Fast Glamour Read online

Did I know anything? I circled the sand with my hand on my hip sucking in air. Fucker. Of course, I knew exactly who would pull a stunt like this.

  “You got your breath back?”

  I pulled in a long breath. Dad would do anything in his power to make certain The Lady’s Regret never got made and that included stealing my project’s director. I took a large gulp of air. “It’s about rushing The Legend Kills into production so The Lady’s Regret doesn’t get made.” I sucked in another lungful. “Dad doesn’t want The Lady’s Regret made.”

  “Damn,” Cami said. “I kind of hoped it was my skills as a shooter and not bullshit politics that prompted his offer.”

  My heartbeat slowed and my breathing was near normal. “It’s both,” I said. “You’re an awesome shooter. They’d be lucky to have you.” I paused. How could Cami say no to a hundred million dollar budget and a sure thing at the box office? “Look, I understand. You have to take it, how many times do you get offered a billion-dollar franchise—”

  “Take it? I already said yes to you. But who will produce The Legend Kills? I mean Sterling, you’re awesome, but you can’t be on two sets at once.”

  “He’s rushing the next Legend film into production. Soft prep next week. Either I do it or I’m out as President of Legend Films.”

  “Wow,” Cami said. “So we’re both getting the hard sell.”

  “Yep.”

  “Two offers that no one wants to refuse. You and me and The Legend Kills.”

  “Really unwise to turn your back on a direct offer from the President of Production.”

  “So whatcha’ gonna do?” Cami finally asked.

  “I know what I want to do,” I said.

  “Me, too,” Cami said. “I’ll see you at my mom’s place in four hours?”

  A smile widened across my face.

  “Yeah, let’s go make this fuckin’ film.”

  Rhiannon

  I’d left Mama alone in the house all night. She would have risen with the sun and seen Sterling’s car parked in front of the guesthouse then. I pulled a white linen dress over my shoulders. The eyelet fabric was loose and the hem fell to my ankles. My intent was to breakfast with Mama and then work the rest of the day. Visions swirled through my head. Pictures of people and landscapes. The need to capture the pictures in my mind with my brush consumed me.

  “Did you eat before Sterling left?” Mama asked. She stood beside the stove, her crutches under her arms.

  “Mama, please, let me make breakfast.”

  “I have enough for three, I didn’t know that he’d left until after I began.”

  She scooped the eggs onto an indigo-colored platter. I took the platter from her and also the plate that held the toast. We both walked to the table and sat down. She poured a coffee for me from the carafe on the table. An oily queasy feeling settled in my stomach and I wanted neither the meal nor the coffee.

  “He left pretty early,” Mama remarked.

  She skirted around her questions to see what bits of information I might feed her. I did not wish to play these games. I wanted to return to the studio and begin my work. A shiver tore through me—or a cry. A deep well of sadness thickened in my chest. Sterling had left. If I could get to my canvases and my colors I need not think of Sterling and last night and the stained history that lived between him and me.

  “Mama,” I said, my voice a hush. My eyes danced around the kitchen that opened onto the front of the house and the view into the front yard. I looked up and met my mother’s gaze. Anxiousness hovered around her eyes, tense lines around her mouth as though it took all her concentration to hold fast to her words. Words of worry, of concern, words of caution and disagreement over my actions. A sigh escaped my lips. I did not wish to share any of last night with Mama. And yet … “Sterling may leave his father’s company.”

  Her eyebrow twitched upward. Would this satisfy her?

  “Steve won’t like that,” Mama said. “He prefers to control those whom he loves. Why would Sterling do that?”

  The reason as to why Sterling wanted to leave would make Mama unhappy. She, too, disliked The Lady’s Regret, the script written by my father for Joanne Legend.

  “He’s making The Lady’s Regret,” I said.

  Mama’s coffee cup stopped at her lips. She recovered quickly and looked down at her plate of eggs and lifted her fork. “ But why?”

  “Because it’s a beautiful piece,” I said. The beauty of the piece was inherent in the words, but unfortunately many of the Legend and Bliss families were aware of the true inspiration for the deep love story. Many but not all—“Amanda and Sterling still don’t know.”

  “I’ve not told them,” Mama said. Her teeth crunched through her toast. She tilted her head toward the view out the back window. “I couldn’t have told them then, and I certainly won’t speak ill of their mother now.”

  At fifteen, I couldn’t begin to understand the pain that must have devastated Mama with the loss of so many things: her husband, her best friend, her marriage, her children all within one summer. Normal family life was disrupted and turned upside down. The waves of life threw our ship upon the rocks. Now, a grown woman, I could understand some of her pain at losing almost everyone she loved and held dear, but I would never fully appreciate the sadness that must have come close to destroying her.

  “I did what I had to for the friendship I shared with Joanne, and because I love Amanda and Sterling as though they are my own. I have no regrets and I would do all of it again.”

  The memory of a happy Mama laughing with my father and holding his hand shifted through my mind. My heart broke. I stood to clear the dishes.

  I gazed out the window once more. The hills of Malibu enchanted me, but the ghosts of my adolescence still haunted this place.

  Chapter 8

  Sterling

  Elizabeth Montgomery knew how to live. Up the coast on the rocky shore outside Montecito, her house clung to the side of a cliff. Though her children had scattered, she had remained in the big house that was warm and open and full of sunshine and pictures of the adventures of her children and now-deceased husband.

  “It’s quiet now,” Cami said, “but you should hear this place when we’re all home.” She dropped her car keys on the big round wooden table in the foyer. We’d driven up the coast together.

  “Cami?” Elizabeth’s voice called from the far side of the house.

  “It’s us, Mom!” Cami called back. We walked through the front two rooms and out the back doors to a giant deck that soared above the yard. Just beyond the green grass below was the beach.

  Elizabeth sat at the table with her laptop open, surrounded by paperwork. She stood and caught Cami into a big hug. “You don’t come home enough,” Elizabeth said. She kissed Cami on the forehead. “You could always move back in, I’ve got plenty of room.”

  “Mom, that would be one long commute,” Cami said. While Elizabeth didn’t expect Cami to move home, I suspected she’d be thrilled if she did.

  Elizabeth turned to me. Her silver hair hung to just below her chin. She had sharp blue eyes that smiled. Her face remained beautiful even with the marks of age.

  “Sterling,” Elizabeth said and hugged me. “It’s been too long since I’ve seen you.” She pulled back and examined me from top to toe. “I think you were only sixteen when you were last here. You are looking well,” she said. “How’s Amanda? I hear there is another Legend wedding in the works.”

  “She’s happy and the gallery just opened—”

  “I was so sorry to have missed it! I had a charity event in Santa Barbara or I would have come down. Please tell her I will be down soon. I can’t wait to see what new young artists she’s found. I’d love to find something for the main room.”

  “I’ll let her know. She’d love to see you.”

  We settled into the seats at the long outdoor table.

  “So you’ve driven all the way up here to see if I’ll finance your film,” Elizabeth said.

  Sh
e was a direct woman, had always been. I remembered that from the visits we’d had to their house as kids. “Cami’s told me about the script, The Lady’s Regret. I know of it,” she continued. A smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “I suppose your father is most displeased.” She sipped her tea and said the part about Dad not liking the project with a hint of a smile.

  “He’s trying pretty hard to convince both of us to let it go. Have you read it?”

  “Years ago,” Elizabeth said. “When Tom and Joanne were still working on the project they came up here a number of times to work. The project was …” She searched the horizon as if looking for her words. “… intense. If I remember correctly, that was a very intense time for Joanne, and she was pinning her hopes of a comeback on the script. And Tom’s career was soaring at the time.”

  “I remember Amanda and I stayed with Gayle a lot when Mom would go away to work.” I scanned the beach, watching the waves. “But I didn’t know she came up here with Tom.”

  “Our property stretches very far up the coast. We have three guesthouses, and they stayed in one for a couple of weeks.”

  “That would have been late spring, early summer, just before Mom was diagnosed.”

  “Yes,” Elizabeth said. “But, yes, I have read the script in the roughest of forms. Cami sent me the final version not long ago. If Worldwide is trying to convince you to take other projects, will their offer to take foreign still stick?”

  “Our sales rep doesn’t care. He already has offers for foreign with or without Worldwide.”

  “And the actress? You need someone with foreign value for the female lead,” Elizabeth said. “Whom will you go to?”

  I looked at Cami and her lips turned up. “I slipped it to Jennifer Laredo on Friday. We just got off the phone with her and she loves the script,” Cami said. “We should hear by tomorrow.”

  Elizabeth sat back in her chair. “That would create quite a package. And the budget is three to—”

  “Six,” Cami said. “I’d feel comfortable at four point five. Foreign will come in at one point five and twenty-five percent tax credit and domestic is still on the table. We need around two in equity.”

  “Tell you what,” Elizabeth said. She pressed her index finger to her lips. “I’ll reread the script and if I like it as much as I remember liking it, I’ll put in the equity. I’ll even be a one-stop shop. I’ll cash flow the entire project. Just to make things simple.”

  “Mom? You’d do that? But I’ve brought you scripts before and—”

  “Darling, this script has history and it has Jennifer Laredo. Nothing in film is a sure bet, but The Lady’s Regret? With you directing, and Sterling producing a Tom Bliss script with Jennifer Laredo starring? This one has all kinds of opportunities. I will say, though, that I don’t want just an executive producer’s credit on this, I want a full freight producer’s credit.”

  “Really?” Cami asked.

  “I won’t be on set,” Elizabeth said. “But when the film wins the Oscar I do so much want to see the view from that stage.”

  After dinner, Cami and I climbed into her car and headed to Los Angeles.

  “How will you tell your Dad?”

  Cami zipped through a tight curve on Highway One. I clutched the door handle; I was used to driving fast, but not to sitting in the passenger side while someone else zipped down the road.

  “I was just wondering the same thing,” I said.

  “He isn’t going to be happy,” Cami said. “I’ve never seen him unhappy, but I’ve heard all about it.”

  “That’s because you haven’t yet directed a Legend film. When you do—”

  “If I ever do,” Cami corrected.

  “Right, if you ever do, and, by the way, by directing The Lady’s Regret you are seriously jeopardizing any chance you have of getting an offer to direct a Legend film.”

  “Oh, I know,” Cami said. “I got the call from my agent earlier today. He gave me the talk about making smart choices and how a film at a studio with a budget of nine figures puts me in a much different level and blah, blah, blah, blah.”

  “And you said?”

  “And I said thank you and hung up the phone.”

  “Because you want to make The Lady’s Regret.”

  “Yes,” Cami said. “And with a mother like Elizabeth Montgomery, I hate it when people tell me that I can’t do something. I have this obscene little quirk to my personality that when somebody tells me not to do something I actually want to do it even more.”

  I smiled at Cami’s words. “I know exactly what you mean.”

  Changing the subject, I said, “I never knew that my mother and Tom came up to your Mom’s to work on the project.”

  Cami shifted in her seat. “Yeah, I kind of remember it. I think I was like fifteen or sixteen that summer. They weren’t at the house much. Maybe twice … for dinner? We were always so busy as kids. That place was mayhem when we were all teenagers. I know it seems big and quiet now, but put seven of us inside that house plus Dad? Jeez, I’m surprised Mom didn’t go shack up in one of the guest houses for the summer. Any idea why your dad hates the project so much?”

  “I have theories,” I said. “The first one being that it was Mom’s attempt to step out from behind Dad’s shadow. She stopped acting when I was born and all our lives revolved around Dad’s career.” I scrolled through my text messages. “Plus, you know, this is the first project that I would be doing without him. I’m sure the project brings up some difficult memories for him, since the whole thing seemed to come together the same time we found out that Mom was sick.”

  “That’s a pretty perfect storm,” Cami said. “I can understand why he wouldn’t want to revisit all that.”

  “Yeah,” I continued to scroll. I was hopeful that I’d missed a call or a text while we’d been at Elizabeth’s house.

  After the way I’d left things this morning with Rhiannon, I knew I wouldn’t hear from her. She would bide her time amongst her canvases and paintbrushes waiting for me to call her. But I couldn’t call. I wasn’t ready to hand over my heart to her when she couldn't even tell me if she planned to stay in California.

  When we were young we’d been so open and so available to each other. After she left without saying good-bye, she destroyed that ability for us to be vulnerable with each other. I couldn’t get back to that place with Rhiannon unless she could be honest with me and with herself about her intentions. Where did she plan to live? Where did she plan to stay? To get involved with Rhiannon was just too dangerous for me until I knew she knew what she wanted.

  But there were no texts or calls.

  “You ready to go indie?” Cami asked. Her words interrupted my thoughts.

  “We won’t say anything until we hear from Jennifer.”

  “Nope. Just sitting on this until she attaches.” Cami looked away from the road and a broad grin spread across her face. “She’s going to attach. We are going to have one of the best actresses in the world on our film with me directing and you producing. Man, this is going to be one wild fucking ride!” Cami smacked her hand against the steering wheel.

  “Yeah,” I said. “One wild fucking ride.”

  Malibu edged by us and then Santa Monica. Cami turned up onto Ocean Drive and zipped south to Venice. She pulled to a stop in front of my place.

  “Looks like you’ve got company,” Cami said. “This won’t be good.”

  I looked up from my phone. There, leaning against the back of his Porsche with the license plate that read Webbz, was Webber Connor and, no, he didn’t look happy at all.

  Chapter 9

  Rhiannon

  “How is work going?” Amanda asked. As we wandered through a boutique in Malibu, Amanda reached out and caressed a long skirt with a fuchsia floral print.

  “That would look nice with your skin,” I said as I followed her around the shop. Clothes didn’t really interest me, but Amanda was my close friend. I wanted to spend time with her. Our friendship was the kind tha
t, even though we’d not seen each for years, we were able to pick up as if I’d never left L.A.

  “I can’t seem to concentrate,” I said.

  Amanda turned to me and her eyes held a question. “Has this happened before?”

  I shook my head no. “I can picture what I want to paint, but when I sit, I just stare at my canvas. All that comes are the most horrible paintings. I loathe them. I feel so … I feel so rudderless in my work.”

  Amanda exited the shop into the sunshine and I followed her. She slipped on her sunglasses, as did I. “What is the focus of the new series?”

  “I wanted to do Venice Beach, but it won’t come. The pictures simply won’t come to me.”

  “Maybe with Gayle and her leg and then coming back to Los Angeles? Maybe you’re simply overwhelmed by all the changes.”

  I could hear the words she wasn’t speaking. I wondered if she knew that Sterling had stayed with me. That he’d left me aching and wanting him.

  “Sterling’s place in Venice is beautiful. I’m certain he was sincere when he told you that he’d show you around. Perhaps being in Venice would help get rid of this block you’re experiencing.

  “Maybe,” I said. “But I don’t want to leave Mama right now. She’s very independent, but I love taking care of her. Especially after being away for so long.”

  We walked into another boutique, this one filled with baby clothes. Amanda lifted a tiny sailor suit. “Isn't this adorable!” she cooed.

  “Oh my goodness, Amanda, are you?”

  “Me? Oh no, no.” She smiled and said, “I mean we haven’t even had the wedding yet. The timing would be off and—”

  “Those things don’t always wait for the right time,” I said. “Sometimes they simply happen.”

  Amanda turned to me and tilted her head to the side. “Do you think you’ll have children?” We strolled out of the shop.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “Once upon a time I would have said yes. But now, with my painting and everything … Besides, I’d like to find love first.”