Heartthrob (39 page)

“
What
?” Kate felt herself start to unravel.

“It’s no big deal. It wasn’t working for me to have Reginald Brooks win in the end. So after Moses is caught and he’s being brought back for the second time, Jane and Laramie intercept the wagon and overpower the driver. It’s kind of fun. It’s kind of a chase scene, and there’s even a little bit of humor in it and—”

“No!
Absolutely not!
” She was shouting so loud, she could see his hair move. All around the set, heads were turning. She saw Jed step toward her. She snatched the script from the script supervisor and smacked it against her hand for emphasis. “This is the story I wrote! And
this
is the way this story ends. It’s not about chase scenes or cheap laughs. It’s about love and sacrifice. It’s about Moses being caught again, and Jane being willing to give up her entire life, willing to marry Brooks, a man she knows is a beast, to save the life of the man—this slave—that she loves. And it’s about Laramie having come alive enough again to sacrifice the land he loves so much, the land he’s promised his father he’d never sell, the land where he first met Sarah, the land where in his dreams her ghost still walks—because he knows that land will buy both Jane and Moses their freedom. He knows Brooks wants the land that badly.

“Brooks doesn’t win, you idiot!
Laramie
wins, because he steps toward the future and finally separates himself from the past. He wins because
he gets his life back!
”

Silence.

It was silent on the entire set, except for her own ragged breathing.

Victor finally spoke. “
You
wrote this script?”

Kate exploded again. “God help me! Out of everything I’ve just said, that’s the one thing you have to focus on? Yes.
Yes
, Victor, I wrote this script.”

“But I’ve read some of your scripts and …” Whatever
he was going to say, he wisely didn’t say it. “Well, I’m impressed, but I still don’t like the ending. Look, just read through the scenes I wrote—”

“No. The entire story drives to this ending.
My
ending. This is not up for discussion, this is not up for change!”

“Kate.” Jed was beside her. “Maybe now isn’t the right time to—”

She spun to face him. “What do
you
know about when it’s the right time and when it’s not? For you, it’s never the right time. God forbid
you
ever let yourself get angry! But I
am
angry, goddamn it, and I don’t care if everyone on this set knows it! In fact, I
want
them to know it! And I’m going to have this out with Victor right here and right now, so just
back off.
”

She turned back to Victor. “Here’s the deal. You shoot the ending to this movie the way it was written. If you don’t want to do that—”

“I really don’t.”

“Fine. Then, I’m going to have to fire you.”

Victor looked like a fish, his mouth opened in shock. “You can’t do that. We’re a week and a half away from being done! Who are you going to get to direct at this point?”

“I’ll do it myself,” Kate bluffed. “You found it easy enough to step into
my
shoes and rewrite the ending. I’m sure I can do the same and direct the last few scenes, no problem.”

She could feel Jed beside her, his tension almost palpable. But when he spoke, his voice was even. Of course. He was always trying to keep things calm, always trying to keep the peace. “Kate, stop and think. What you’re saying could kill this project right now.”

Kate ignored him, focusing all of her energy on staring Victor down.

“How could you want to change my ending?” she said softly now. “How could you do to me the exact same thing
that was done to you during
Teardrop Twenty? The Promise
isn’t a movie about justice, Victor. Don’t try to make it something it’s not. And don’t get frightened because there’re no chase scenes or explosions at the end. Please trust me and do this my way.”

Silence.

Something shifted in his eyes. “Or you’ll fire me.”

Kate nodded, dead serious. “Yes.” It was true. She would rather kill the project than settle for some cheap, fake ending.

She looked over at Jed, and realized she was not going to settle, across the board. She wanted it all.

Or she wanted nothing.

J
ed was alone.

For the first time in months, he was completely alone.

When they’d finished filming, early in the evening, he’d searched for Kate, but she’d left the set.

Without him.

Annie was gone, and Victor was, too. There was no one of authority on the set.

So Jed walked back to his trailer. Alone.

It was quiet inside. It was spooky, the fading light throwing odd shadows around.

He turned on all the lights.

The silence was overwhelming, and he switched on the boom box, and one of Kate’s CD’s came on. Garth Brooks. He switched it off and went into the shower.

But Kate wasn’t there when he got out.

And she
still
wasn’t there, waiting for him at eight o’clock, outside the church where his AA meeting was held.

He tried not to want a drink, tried not to feel anything at all.

He headed over to the Grill for dinner, but Kate wasn’t there, either.

But Annie was.

He wended his way through the crowded room, not even bothering to stop and get a tray. She was sitting alone, and didn’t seem surprised to see him.

“I’m starting to get really worried about Kate,” he said, not even bothering to say hello. “Have you seen her?”

“She’s in the production office,” Annie informed him. “I was about to head over to your trailer—she asked me to give you a message. I stopped by earlier, but you weren’t there.”

“I was at a meeting.” Something major must’ve come up. Maybe Victor had reconsidered. He’d given in that afternoon, when faced with Kate’s crazy threats. But maybe now he was having second thoughts.

Annie pushed a tendril of curly red hair behind her ear. “She asked me to tell you that you’re on your own until the end of the shoot.”

Jed stared. “What?”

Her thin lips curled up into one of her rare smiles. “You heard me. I think she figured she had so much luck throwing her weight around with Victor today that she was willing to face the financial backers’ wrath over
you
if and when it came. But we’ve only got ten more days. It’ll all be over before we know it—and certainly before the backers know what’s going on down here.”

“I’m …?”

“You’re on your own,” Annie told him again. “Lordy, Lordy, you’re free at last.”

Jed knew he should feel happy. Kate finally trusted him. At least he thought this meant Kate finally trusted him. But it had been so long since he’d let himself feel anything, all he felt was numb.

And if having Kate’s trust meant losing her arms around him at night, well, damn, he didn’t think he wanted it.

*   *   *

Kate was miserable.

Victor poured himself another glass of wine. “You weren’t really going to fire me, were you?”

Kate sat with her head on her arms on top of the conference table. “Yes.”

“If this movie is a complete failure at the box office, it’s going to be totally your fault.” He took a sip of wine. “You know that, right? I’m going to make sure everyone knows I wanted to change the end to make it more commercially viable.”

“Everyone knows, Victor. They were all there on set this afternoon, listening to me scream.”

“But if the movie’s a success,” he pointed out, “I’ll get all the credit. And believe me, I won’t even mention the incident in my Oscar speech.”

“Yeah, but you better believe I’ll mention it in
mine.
”

Victor laughed and refilled her glass of wine.

“I can’t believe you wrote that script. You
really
wrote that script?”

“Yes.”

“Without any help?”

“That’s right.”

“I’m impressed.” He took another sip of wine. “And proud of you.”

Kate managed a wan smile. “Thanks.”

It was nearly eleven o’clock. She tried to imagine what Jed was doing. And then she tried to make herself not care. She groaned.

“Look, if you’re this miserable,” Victor said, “go be with Jericho. What good is punishing yourself?”

Kate lifted her head. “I’m not punishing myself. I’m being kind to myself. I don’t need him. I won’t let myself need him.”

“Well, if you can really figure out how to do that, write a book. It’ll sell faster than you can say ‘Times List.’ ”

“I knew it was going to end,” she said, as much to convince
herself as to convince Victor. “It was inevitable. The shoot’s almost over, it’s not as if I ever thought we had any kind of a future. All I did was end it a little bit sooner than I’d expected. I got all I hoped for out of him, anyway—a brilliant performance. I’d have been a fool to want anything more.” But she had been a fool. God, she’d been
such
a fool…

“Gee, and I thought you cut my leash because you trusted me. Instead I have to find out through eavesdropping that you’re ending our relationship?”

Kate turned to see Jed standing in the door.

Victor stood up. “And … I’m outta here.”

Kate waited until the door to the outer office closed behind Victor. “Are you angry with me?” she asked hopefully.

He was. She could see that he was, but as usual, he was refusing to feel it. He came into the room and sat down across from her at the conference table. “I don’t know what I am.”

Her hope died. “Yeah, that was a big part of my problem.”

“There’s ten more days,” he said quietly. “If you were planning to end things between us after the shoot, why not stick to your original plan? I want those ten days, Kate.” He took a deep breath. “I want more than that, but if that’s all you can give me …”

She fought the urge to cry. “You want … more?”

He looked exhausted and empty, and it was the emptiness that broke her heart as he steadily met her gaze. “Yeah. I guess I was kind of hoping … I don’t know, that … I guess that it wouldn’t have to end.”

“Do you honestly think that we could sustain a long-distance relationship that’s based on sex?”

He looked down at the table. “Is that really all you think our relationship is based on?” he asked carefully.

“Yes.”

He looked up at her, his voice still so matter-of-fact.
“Wow, I wish you’d told me sooner, because I definitely don’t feel that way.”

Feel. The word shouldn’t be in his working vocabulary. Kate closed her eyes, praying that the emotion and anger boiling inside of her wouldn’t make her say something stupid. “How
do
you feel?”

“I, um …” He cleared his throat. “I thought you knew. I mean, I thought you loved me, too.”

Kate didn’t say anything. She couldn’t say anything, for fear that she was going to lose the red wine churning in her stomach.

“I do, you know,” he told her. “Love you. I know I’m screwing this up and saying it really badly, but … There it is.”

“Actually,” she said, “the dialogue was quite convincing—the hesitation, the humbleness. Another stellar performance. So what’s supposed to happen now? A Hollywood happy ending? You say the three magic words, and I’m supposed to just believe you and fall into your arms?”

Her words were hurting him—she could see it in his face. Except, it was all part of the act. There were tears in his eyes, but they—like his words—were no more real than the glycerin some actors used.

“Kate, I know you love me, too.”

“How can I?” she asked. “When you won’t let me know who you really are? I thought I knew, but …” She stood up, reaching for the glass in front of her, topping it off from the nearly empty bottle of wine. She slid it across the table, toward him, and some of the wine sloshed over the sides. “Here. You might as well start drinking again. At least if you drink, you’ll feel shame. That’s got to be better than the
nothing
that you let yourself feel now.”

He stood, too, and as she watched, he struggled to keep his voice even. “Kate—”

“Save the acting for the final scenes of the movie, Jed, because, frankly, I just don’t care anymore.”

Kate thought that maybe,
maybe
that one was going to do it, but instead, he turned and walked away.

And she knew, for her own sake, for her own peace, her own sanity, that she’d done the right thing.

But knowing that didn’t stop her heart from breaking.

Susie was crying.

At first Jed thought the sound was his mind playing tricks on him.

It had been five days since Kate had set him free. Five days filled with an urge to drink—a craving that was nothing compared to how badly he missed Kate.

Kate—who didn’t trust him, but who simply had stopped caring.

Three weeks ago, even before
Mean Time
hit big, he’d truly had it all. He’d been too stupid to realize it—like most things in his life, he hadn’t figured out its importance until it was gone.

Kate had loved him. She’d loved him from the start. That first time they’d made love may have truly been just sex for her, but after that … He knew despite her past, she was too much of a good girl to indulge herself in a relationship based purely on the physical. And if that weren’t enough proof, well, he’d seen her love for him in her eyes. She was a lousy actress. She couldn’t hide the truth if her life had depended on it.