“Janie.” It was Daniel sitting in a shadow. He was thumbing through a book.
“Where am I?”
“In Cedars-Sinai Medical Center. Ssh, just relax, don’t exert yourself.” He took my hand and squeezed it gently.
“I’m in a hospital? Why can’t I remember getting here?”
“Because you fainted.”
I tried to sit up but then slumped back down into the comfort of the pillows. “What’s wrong with me?”
“You’re suffering from stubbornness, disobedience, and willfulness.” He said this deadpan, no trace of a smile.
I stifled a giggle. “Seriously, Daniel, why am I here?”
“You’re anemic. They gave you a drip to bring your iron levels up. You’ve not been eating your spinach, obviously. I should have known—so slim and pale—you need to eat more, Janie, and take care of yourself better. Have you been feeling dizzy, your heartbeat fast or irregular, shortness of breath, cognitive problems, and so on?” He sounded like a doctor, and his expression was deadly serious. All he needed was a clipboard and a white coat.
I cocked a knowing smile. “All of the above.”
“Shit.”
“Definitely cognitive problems; definitely lack of reasoning and rational thought.”
“Really?” he said. He didn’t catch my irony. Too busy playing doctor.
“If I’d been thinking straight,” I told him, “I never would have kissed you at that meeting, and I certainly wouldn’t even be contemplating doing The Dark Edge of Love with you, especially now that you’re offering yourself up as my leading man.”
He tried to contain a smile. “So you will work with me again?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Well, your wicked sense of humor has returned, Janie, so I can only assume you’re feeling more chipper. Still, you need to rest—we can talk all this over tomorrow.”
“I’m a bit tired, but I really don’t need to be in a hospital! Where is everyone, anyway? Where’s the doctor, where are the nurses?”
“The nurse has gone for a break. The doctor will see you on her rounds tomorrow morning. I insisted you stay here the night, just to make sure your B-12 and iron levels return to normal. Well, not your normal, as they were far too low, but a normal person’s normal.”
The door flew open. “Hey, I figured I’d get ten minutes before they chucked me out. Man, it’s dark in here. Where are your gatekeepers?” It was Star bursting into the room with a huge box of chocolates and a basket of fruit. “No point bringing flowers if you’ll only be here a night. That’s what they told me on the phone. Hi, Daniel, we met a long time ago at the Vanity Fair Oscar party.”
He stood up. “That’s right. You won that year for best actress for Skye’s The Limit.” They awkwardly shuffled about, not knowing if they should kiss cheeks or shake hands, although Star’s arms were full, so the two of them kind of blew kisses in the air. The type of greeting I knew Daniel hated with a vengeance. Well, Star blew kisses, he sort of half winced, half smiled.
“Well, I’ll be off then,” he said. “Nice seeing you, Star.” He bent down and let his head rest beside mine and breathed me in, inhaling my hair. I was glad I’d washed it that day or I would have felt awkward. He stayed that way for several beats as if he just didn’t want to leave me but felt forced to because of Star’s presence. His lips rested on my cheek without actually kissing me. Then he finally whispered, “Please take more care of yourself, Janie. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you. See you tomorrow.” He squeezed my limp hand and then left the room.
“Only five more minutes,” a voice said, peeping through the doorway. It was a whippet-thin nurse wearing horn-rimmed glasses. She looked like she belonged in another era. “You need some light in here.”
The room flooded white with hospital glare, and the nurse disappeared. I was still reeling from Daniel’s apparent one hundred and eighty degree turn. Desperately concerned. Personally involved. Invested in me. As if I were his bona fide girlfriend.
“I had a heart attack when they told me you were here, even though I heard it wasn’t life threatening,” Star said, ripping open the chocolate box.
“Who let you know?”
“Pearl.”
“This whole thing’s pretty crazy. I had no idea at all that I was anemic. I mean, years ago I suspected, and I had myself checked over, but they told me I was fine.”
“That was a surprise, seeing Daniel here.” Star popped a chocolate into my mouth and then chose one for herself.
“He was here when I woke up,” I said, the toffee in the chocolate sticking between my teeth. “Am I allowed to eat these? I mean, it doesn’t mess with my sugar levels or something, does it?”
“The more you eat right now, the better. You’re not diabetic, you’re just anemic.”
“Anyway, he was staring at me, watching me sleep. If I wasn’t so crazy about him I would have been creeped out.”
“Yeah, well, he is kind of giving you mixed messages.”
I nodded. Star was right. “The latest message is that he’s going to play opposite me in the movie, as well as directing—he’s back in the picture, in more ways than one. Simon got fired. Cal got fired. Damn it, I forgot to ask Daniel about Cal! I’ll call Cal later. Crap! All this has been so crazy and intense!”
Star stopped chewing. “What? Daniel wants to direct the movie again? And play the leading role? I thought he didn’t want anything to do with Samuel Myers!”
“Samuel Myers has given him artistic and creative control and is going to let Daniel do whatever he wants now.”
“Which is?”
“Shoot the sex scenes in black and white and make it all arty and classy. Or so he says.”
Star grabbed a bunch of grapes. “I can see why you’re all riled up about him. There’s no denying that he’s very hot. Jeez, did you see his eyes?”
“I know,” I said helplessly. Those eyes that had been my undoing for all these years. Those eyes that ripped through the very fabric of my being. “You think I haven’t noticed?”
Star shoved five grapes into her mouth at once. “So you’ll do the movie, right? I mean you have to.”
I told her the whole story, about how the no-nudity clause would be null and void and how I’d be Daniel’s pawn, putting my trust in him completely if I said yes.
She moved onto an apple. Something told me the fruit hamper and chocolates were her breakfast, lunch, and dinner. “Stop being so fussy. Just do the goddamn movie already and enjoy yourself.”
“This is a far cry from your earlier advice, Star, when you warned me to keep away from him because he was fucking Natasha Jürgen lookalikes.”
“This is work. He’s got great artistic taste and is very respected as a director. The movie will be well received and look great. Just be professional about it. Think of it as a job—which it is.”
I remembered what Daniel said about Star—that she was a veteran, born into this world. Strong. Not fazed by anything. Wished I could be more like her. “So how does it work, exactly, on set, when you do heavy sex scenes?” I asked.
“Well, the set will be closed. That includes everybody except the director, cameraperson, sound, and wardrobe.”
“Wardrobe? But I’ll be naked except for my privacy patch and nipple pasties!”
“You’ll have your own personal costumer, who’ll be there with a robe to cover you the second you need it, in between takes, don’t worry.”
I nervously twiddled a lock of hair. “There are BDSM themes in this movie—stuff like that.”
“Believe me, it’s so technical—as you discovered already—that it’s just like any other day of shooting. The only difference is you’re almost naked. First day is awkward and then it’s a breeze.”
“The real reason that’s killing me? I’m so obsessed with Daniel and I know working with him every day . . . kissing . . . and these sex scenes and . . . well, I’m going to fall even harder, and I know he’s still in love wit
h his late wife and he’ll never—”
“Janie, he’s really into you, I can tell.”
“You think so? I’m so crazy about him, it makes me sick. I mean . . . literally sick. Look at me.”
“You can’t blame Daniel for your lazy eating habits.”
“You noticed, huh?”
“He’ll come around eventually, you’ll see. The good thing is you’ll be able to keep tabs on him because you’ll be seeing each other every day. As director and leading man? Trust me, he simply won’t have time in his schedule for fucking Natasha Jürgen lookalikes.”
STAR LEFT, AND THE NURSE gave me a sponge bath, and then my dinner. My period had ebbed away so at least I didn’t have to worry about that. I mulled over what Star had said; she was right. I needed to be professional. Think of it as a job and nothing else. I grabbed my phone and scrolled through my messages. Two from Star, one from Pearl, one from my dad saying how excited he was that we’d be seeing each other (when was that arranged?), and one from Will announcing they were coming for a visit. News to me. But I missed them and felt a surge of excitement. Even though New York wasn’t far from Vermont, I didn’t get to see them that often. I hadn’t told them I was in the hospital, and by the sound of both messages, they had no idea I was here. As far as I knew, nobody had their numbers to call them, anyway.
There was a text message from Daniel wishing me a good night’s rest. I wondered why Cal hadn’t gotten in touch and then reminded myself of how badly he’d been treated. Perhaps he felt betrayed by me in some way. We still hadn’t spoken since yesterday. I’d call him—we needed to talk, and up until now, I simply hadn’t had a chance.
Cal answered on the third ring.
“Janie,” he said, “so sorry I didn’t call.” He was apologizing? I felt instantly guilty.
“Cal, so great to hear your voice. I’m sorry I haven’t called either, but I got taken to the hospital—nothing terrible, don’t worry.”
“I know,” he said.
“Oh, really? Who told you?”
“I was just leaving for the airport when there was a commotion and they called 911 after you fainted. There was nothing I could do; my plane was set to leave.”
“Yeah, Daniel told me. He sent you to New York in his private jet.”
“Cool, huh?”
“Cool? Cal, you were basically fired from the movie, how can that be cool?”
“You didn’t hear?”
“Hear what?” I asked, confused. Cal sounded like he was about to explode with happiness, I could hear his big grin over the phone, wrapped like a ribbon, around his voice box.
“I got a major TV role. The lead in a pilot that’s going to be shot in Vancouver.”
I exhaled a gust of relief. “That’s incredible! Great timing, what a coincidence!”
“Well, not really, Daniel got me the part.”
“He’s the director? I don’t understand.”
“No, silly, how can he be the director when he’s already doing The Dark Edge of Love? His friend, who’s the producer, owed Daniel a big favor, and he cast me with no audition, just from my video clips of work I’ve done. Isn’t that amazing? I mean, The Dark Edge of Love was huge but this is five times the money, plus I get to keep my Dark Edge of Love fee, plus extra severance on top, courtesy of Pearl’s generosity—she didn’t have to do that—my agent was amazed. So I’m, like, stinking of fragrant roses right now. If the TV show’s a hit, it could run for years. Everyone knows the kudos is with TV now, with shows like Breaking Bad and Game of Thrones . . . film has lost its power.” He was almost breathless with delight. He’d obviously forgotten all about our road trip to Santa Barbara.
He rambled on, “My part is great, too. I play a corrupt cop who also sees visions . . . you know like Christopher Walken in that movie, The Dead Zone? Well, it’s like that, all mixed up with politics, a bit like House of Cards meets The Dead Zone, meets whatever that show was called with Patricia Arquette, but my part is kind of like—”
“When were you going to tell me all this?” I cut in, a little hurt. He hadn’t even texted me. I was the last to know! And, as for Daniel procuring this part for him, why hadn’t Daniel told me himself what he was up to?
“Sorry, Janie, I just felt a little weird, you know? I guess a bit guilty getting special treatment from Daniel. I see what you mean—he’s very cool, very generous.”
I wanted to enlighten him to the fact that Daniel had ulterior motives, that his “generosity” was laced with selfish intentions, but didn’t want to wound Cal’s pride. “You know Daniel will be replacing you as my leading man?” I said tentatively. “I mean, he himself is going to act opposite me.”
“Yeah, I know, good luck. Hey, Janie, I’ve gotta go, have to be up at the crack of dawn—a car’s coming for me so I need to get some shuteye.”
“You’re already about to start filming?”
“Have to go shopping with Wardrobe.”
The ego of every actor. I’d forgotten that. It seemed all Cal was interested in was himself and his part. He hadn’t even asked if I was okay. “Well, have fun, keep me posted. And congratulations, Cal.”
“Thanks, see you around, Janie.”
I pressed END and felt a lone tear fall down my cheek. See you around. So much for Cal being boyfriend material! Typical actor behavior. Self-centered. I’m-alright-Jack.
My mind wandered back to Daniel. He obviously did care about me; his manipulative hiring and firing proved it. I knew he felt something for me. But still, I did not want to be his rebound relationship. Just because his late wife was dead and gone did not make me number one in his eyes. He’d told me, to my face, I was the last person in the world he wanted a relationship with. His words: “I’m feeling very angry right now. I’m in no state to have a relationship, least of all with you,” ricocheted in my brain. I wished I could fast-forward time. Be the sophisticated actress I would be five years hence, when Daniel would be mentally free of Natasha Jürgen and all her beauty, glamor and sophistication, and the lost child they would have had together, and be ready for someone like me. No, not someone like me. Me.
Me, me, me, me!
Calm down, Janie, get a grip.
I decided I needed to come clean. Tell Daniel how I felt. Clear the air. Confront him about his fuckathon. After all, I was about to get up close and personal with him, what if he’d caught a sexually transmitted disease on his rounds? That flimsy cock-sock he’d be wearing and the miniscule thingy to cover my girly bits would hardly protect me from raging genital herpes or Hepatitis C. I’d insist he get tested and insist that he keep clear of other women until we’d finished filming. I could even get my lawyer to write it into my contract.
Yes! I’d do the role, but on certain conditions.
I mentally made a list of my limits:
• No sexual relations with anyone else during filming.
• Mandatory testing for STDs and HIV, with rights to see the doctor’s report with my own eyes.
• No tormenting me with sexy talk about fucking me or spanking me. (Or had I imagined that)?
• No kissing me off set or whispering sweet nothings in my ear.
• No cameras or videos allowed on set during filming, other than the main cameras.
• Everyone who is connected with the movie to sign a non-disclosure agreement.
As I was embellishing my mental list by the second, polishing any tarnish off the fine details, my phone rang. There was breathing down the line. At first I thought it was the wrong number, then a dirty caller, then Daniel making a sexy call (wishful thinking), and then I realized it was my brother Will.
“Janie, we’re on our way.”
“Right now? You caught a plane already? Talk about giving me notice. I didn’t even know you were planning on a visit!”
“I can do numbers. I can gamble. I can do numbers. Want to go to Vegas. We can meet there.”
“What? Vegas? What are you saying, Will? No! Just, no!”
�
��Dad thinks it’s a good idea.”
My father had always been somewhat irresponsible, my mom the organizer, the fixer, the one who thought for the two of them. But this? This was crazy.
“Will, there are so many things you can do with your life, but going to Vegas and gambling is not one of them.”
I had visions of Will being beaten up by the mafia for winning too much money in clandestine ways, left to bleed in a gutter somewhere. Worse, shot in the head. It was true he was clever with math—like a sort of computer, but his therapist always told us that nurturing that facet of his brain would hinder, not help him. It would cause the creative, “social” part of the brain to shut off. He needed to make friends and interact, not hide inside a numerical cocoon.
“Where are you now?” I asked.
“At JFK, changing planes.”
“What? Why didn’t Dad let me know about this?”
“I told him I’d spoken to you and that you said it was great, that we could meet there.”
“You lied? That’s a lie, Will, I did not say it was okay!”
“We’re on our way to Vegas, on our way to Vegas, on our way to—”
“Put Dad on the line.”
“On our way to Vegas . . . ” he sang, and then he was gone.
I frantically dialed Dad’s cell. It was off. Crap, crap, crap! This was all I needed right now.
2
THE NEXT DAY, after I’d been cleared by the doctor and given a pep talk about how I had to eat more iron-rich foods and take my vitamins, Star came to pick me up from the hospital and took me back to her house. As we drove, she told me all the details about how she had once been kidnapped, amazingly by her brother and some loony Russian, and how she’d fallen in love with her assistant director, who was also acting as her bodyguard—they’d been locked up together, downtown LA. How they were finally freed, but Leo—the guy she loved—got shot, and her brother arrested. I’d read the story once, and seen it all over the news on TV, several years earlier, but had no idea the story had been so complex. It made me understand how vulnerable she was; how, as such a major movie star, she was a walking target. Did I want that kind of attention? The Dark Edge of Love—if it did well at the box office—could change my life as I knew it.
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