Her Leading Man (39 page)

She regretted her anger immediately, when both
Paul Gabriel and
Martin turned to gawk at her.
“It’s not that hot, Christina,” said Paul. “Is it
that
time
of the month, dear?”

She wanted to slug him. Irate, she swiveled her
head. “No! It’s
not
that
time of the month
, damn
you!” When she saw he was grinning at her like a
eat in the cream
pot, she realized he’d deliberately
baited her and huffed indignantly. “Paul,
you’re a
fiend.”

“
I do my best.” He buffed his fingernails on
hi
s
Egyptian costume and fluttered his
eyelashes.

“
You play women better than I do,”
Christina
grumbled.

Martin had resumed his march to the set. Christina
was sorry to see
that he looked somewhat pouty.
That, as she well knew, was her fault, because
she’d
barked
at him. She felt guilty until she bucked herself
up with the thought
that
turnabout was fair play. Martin
had upset the apple cart this
morning. She’d only
tilted it a little bit this afternoon.

When she saw her grandmother, who had been
resting during the
filming of the bathtub scene, walk
onto the set, threaten Pablo Orozco with
her cane
until he gave her his chair, sit, and glare around
her
as if she
owned the world and didn’t
understand why
all these other people had invaded it,
Christina’s heart
crunched
painfully. All she needed was for Gran to
create a disruption.
There had been far too
many of
them already today.

Wishing she could rush over to Gran and give her
a
lecture
,
and knowing she couldn’t and that
it
wouldn’t
do any good if she could, Christina had a
hard time concentrating on the scene
she was about
to play. Phineas Lovejoy called everyone to take
their
marks.
She watched Martin pick up a tray laden with
goblets and a pitcher he was
supposed to carry into
the banquet.

Although she tried not to, she heard the squabble
going on between her
grandmother and Pablo
Orozco.

“
Quit bellyaching,” her grandmother demanded
of
the
actor. “I’m an old lady and you’re a young man.
Even if you did manage to fall
off a camel and break
your arm,
you’re still obliged to be polite.”

Trust Gran to use
her
age as a bat to beat
the
man with.
Not that he didn’t deserve it.

“
I am polite,” Orozco said, beating
his chest with
a fist. “I am Orozco.”

He rolled the R in his name as if it were a fine
wine
.
Pretty fancy talk from an Italian
butcher’s son
from the Bronx. Christina told herself not to be
petty.

“
You may
be Orozco, but you’re still an ass.”

“
I’m
injured,” Pablo pointed out.

“
That
was your own damned fault,” Gran retorted.

“
Your grandmother is a woman after my
own
heart,” Paul. Gabriel murmured at Christina’s
side.

“
She’s about to drive me crazy,” Christina
admitted.
“
I’m afraid she’s going to get Pablo
so mad,
he’ll
interrupt the scene, and then we’ll never get today’s filming over
with.”

“
Places!” Lovejoy called
,
shooting an admonishing
glance toward the old lady and the young
man, who
looked, from Christina’s perspective, to be squaring
off for
battle.

She knew who’d win. Nobody—but nobody—bested Gran, provided
they fought fair, and
Christine
didn’t think even
Pablo would dare hit an old woman
.
And that, as
Christina well knew, was because Gr
an
depended upon the American male’s superior
attitud
e
toward women as protection.
Somehow that didn’t
sound right to her, but she
wasn’t in a mood to think about it now.

Martin stomped over to the two reclining figures.
“I swear to God,
Christina, someday your grandmother’s
going to go too far. She just hit Pablo
with
her
cane!”

“
Good heavens, did she?” Christina craned
her
neck to see around Martin, who’d blocked her line
of
vision.

Sure enough, Pablo, red-faced and irate, was jumping
up and down on one
foot, and uttering incoherent
words—Christina assumed they were oaths—as
her
grandmother looked on smugly.

“
Yes, she did. I swear, the woman ought to
be
locked up.”

Christina felt her lips tighten. “She was. You’re
the
one who
bailed her out, remember?”

He frowned at her. “I had to, in order to get you
out. I couldn’t very
well leave her there, could I?”

“
Not if
you wanted me to finish this picture.”

“
Exactly.” Martin set the tray down with a
rattle
and started to retie his striped cotton belt, which
had
slid down
his lean hips “This is stupid.”

Christina chose to ignore his last comment. “But
that’s only because
women are oppressed, and Gran
and I were arrested while fighting for the
honorable
cause of women’s suffrage.”

“
Mercy
me, I do believe a spat is in progress.”

Paul showed no embarrassment whatsoever when
Christina and Martin
both cast angry glances his way.
He only smiled, rested his chin on his
hand and his
elbow on his couch, and gave them both a fey finger
wave with his other
hand.

Turning away from him, Martin said, “I thought
the two of you
wanted to be treated as equals to
men.”

“
Of
course, we do! That’s the whole point!”

“
Then I think you ought to teach your
grandmother
some form of proper behavior. If a man went around
whacking people with
a cane, he’d be locked up as
a menace to society and never let loose to
injure
people
again.”

Sitting up in anger, Christina
cried,
“That’s
not
fair, Martin! Gran uses the
only
power
available to
her as a woman. A man wouldn’t have to
hit
people i
n order to get
recognition.”

Even though the argument rang false in her own
ears, Christina
resented Martin’s sarcastic glance.
“Right. Tell me another one.”

“
Blast
you, Martin Tafft, it’s the truth!”

“
Nonsense. If women want to be given the
vote,
they’d be wise to behave in a rational manner. I
neve
r
heard of Saint Susan B. Anthony battering and
bullying
her
way to the ballot box. She’d probably b
e
horrified to hear about your grandmother’s
shenanigans.
As I understand it, Susan B., while a
fighte
r
and indefatigable nuisance, behaved with
propriety
even when she was out rabble-rousing.”

He was right. Damn him. As she watched
he
r
grandmother and trepidation boiled like acid in
her
breast,
Christina suffered another enlightenment experience.
It wasn’t a pleasant
one. By golly, Gra
n
didn’t fight fair. Never had. Never
would. And
Christina didn’t approve, either.

“
And,” Martin continued relentlessly, “her
behavior
puts the lie to a good many of the
philosophi
es she
espouses
with
such
vehemence.
If she
truly aspired to be
treated as
men are treated, she
ought to play by the same rules.”

“
But—but—” Christina sucked in a deep
breath
.
“Darn it all, Martin, she’s only
doing what she has
to do in order to get what she wants. She—she
. . .”
Blast it, she was a mean-tempered shrew,
was
what she
was, and Christina couldn’t pretend otherwise.

Martin tied another knot in his belt and yanked it
tight. Stooping to
pick up the tray again, he snapped,
“That’s what children do all the time.
Doing whatever
they damned well feel like doing in order to get
what
they
want. That’s why people invented discipline. Because
the world would be
total chaos if everyone did
what they decided they were
entitled to do without
regard to the
feelings of others.”

“
Oh, now, really . . .” But Christina couldn’t
think
of a sound argument to fling back at him—mainly
because she knew he
was right, at least about Gran.

Instead of letting the subject dro
p
as a
gentleman
should, however, Martin went on. “Anyhow,
I saw what she did.
Are you going to try to tell me
that it’s fair for a woman to deliberately
bait a person
whom she knows can’t strike back without being
considered
a
degenerate cad? Can you imagine what the
feminists would say if Orozco had
belted
her
back?”

“
Orozco is a reptile.” Christina wished she
were
still a child so she could hit Martin Tafft. Of
course,
she’d
be proving him right about this argument by
doing so, and that would never do.
The thought appealed
to her mightily, however.

“
Yeah?
So what does that make your grandmother?”

Martin had never scowled at her in so angry
a
manner. His expression made Christina want to
scream, cry, and
kick him, all at the same time.

“
Children, children,” Paul intervened, “I think
Mr.
Lovejoy is becoming slightly exasperated because
you’re causing a
delay in the filming.”

Martin whirled around, and Christina looked up
too. Sure enough,
Phineas Lovejoy, a terrible frown
on his face, was headed straight at them.
“Blast.”

She wanted to fight some more; to come to some
kind of conclusion
to this conversation which, she
sensed, was very important to the future
of any relationship
she’d ever hope to have with Martin. But
she couldn’t do it.
She had her benighted job to do
instead.

“
Very well, Martin Tafft. We have to film this
stupid
picture now, but this
conversation isn’t over yet.”

“
You bet
it isn’t.”

She couldn’t seem to give it up. “I mean it,
M
artin.”

“
So do I.
”

He sounded as though he did mean it, and Christina
had to bite her
tongue to stop herself from flinging
more remarks at him Actually, in a war
between
her
grandmother and Pablo Orozco, Christina didn’t
know which party was worse.
Orozco was a pile of
dog poop, but her grandmother was one of the most
difficult human
beings, male or female, in the entire
universe.

Which had nothing to do with
Egyptian Idyll
. She
managed to school her countenance into a
semblance
of
slave-girl simplicity, and to lie back down on her
couch. She hoped to
heaven Mr. Lovejoy wouldn’t
scold her. She wasn’t sure she could accept
more
criticism without blowing up.

Christina feared the truth of that indicated a side
t
o
her
personality that could use some work. Damn
Martin Tafft for being right! It
wasn’t fair of Gran
to use the very tricks and ploys she despised as
male
-
fostered
symbols of female oppression in
order
to get
her own way. Christina knew it. Gran probably
knew
it, too,
although she’d never admit it
.