I'm with Cupid (15 page)

“Corliss,” Max said, putting his hand on her shoulder, “the network is okay about them
getting married
. If they spin it right, the American TV-watching public would find it romantic. But one thing the network is not fine about is them
getting a divorce.
”

Corliss stepped back. Her mouth fell open wide. The thought had never occurred to her. Tanya was a good Catholic girl, for one thing. And Trent, well, Trent was and always would be simply too whipped to contemplate a divorce. “Max, that's so—so—cynical of you. I think they really love each other.”

Max didn't look persuaded. “I give them two weeks before one of them files papers—and
that
is something the network does not want to see happen. Or me, for that matter. Can you imagine what it would be like for me to direct
divorced people
? I can barely get my parents in the same room on my birthday.” Max moved away from Corliss, raising his hands in the air again, trying to get back into
his zone
.

None of this had occurred to Corliss. And now it was too late. There was no stopping the high-speed train that was Tanya and Trent's wedding. In fact, it had already left the station.

She then approached Max cautiously. She'd been hearing so much about the wedding plans in the last few days and she knew she had to be straight with Max. “I know you're already in
your zone
and all, and there's only a couple minutes until we begin filming, but there's something important you should know.” Max rolled his fingers for her to proceed quickly. “Right.” Corliss took a big breath of air and spat it out without stopping: “Okay the thing is not only are Trent and Tanya getting married no matter what
you
or
anyone
says, they already got the license
and
they are appearing on
Ellen
tomorrow afternoon to announce the wedding date
and
they've sold the photo rights to
People
magazine
and
they really hope they can convince you to allow them to get married on this very soundstage by converting it into a tropical Puerto-Rican-themed paradise! They also want you to host an engagement party at your house, nothing too big, maybe a few hundred people, sponsored by another magazine, of course, which I think would be a nice gesture.” She held her breath waiting for his response.

Max didn't say anything for a full moment. Corliss was beginning to get dizzy the longer he withheld comment. “They're going to be on
Ellen
tomorrow?” he said finally.

“Uh-huh,” said Corliss, still not knowing if he'd heard the full story.

“Well, that's very interesting,” he replied in a clipped voice. “I had drinks with Ellen last night at the Chateau and she didn't say a thing.” He looked hurt. “And I thought I was very close to Ellen. I once took her girlfriend Portia to the Beverly Center to buy a jogging bra. Gestures like that aren't small.” He tilted his head up. “Well, I guess you never know who your friends are in
this
town.” He looked at his perfect cuticles as if he would cry.

“Um, Max, did you hear what I said? About Trent and Tanya? Getting married and wanting to have the wedding here? Big tropical splash? Hello?”

Max sighed. “Yes, I heard, Corliss. I guess there's nothing we can do if they have a license and they're going to tell the world tomorrow afternoon on daytime television. The only thing we
can
do is spin it for all the press it's worth—and hope the marriage sticks.”

Corliss exhaled. “I think that's wise, Max. Besides, how can anyone come between two people so obviously in love?” She looked over to where Trent and Tanya were now giggling and wrestling on the floor.

Max shook his head. “My definition of love doesn't involve nearly so much horseplay.” He watched as Trent flipped and pinned Tanya. “Now please make sure Anushka, Rocco, and our two lovebirds are in their places, Corliss. I'm ready to shoot their scene.”

“Righto, Max,” said Corliss, who then saluted and motored off.

“I'm so sorry, Max!” said Tanya with a big frown from under her hooded terrycloth robe. “I totally heard the vase crash into the mirror, which I know was totally my cue, but then I got a call from Jasmine who's doing the catering for my wedding. And she's all like, ‘Do you want ganache in the cake?' and I'm all like, ‘What's
ganache
?'” Tanya crumpled up her face like
ganache
was the craziest word she'd ever heard.

Trent smiled his crooked grin at her. “Isn't she, like, fierce?”

Anushka and Rocco stood by, glaring at the love-mad couple. The camerawoman kept tapping her watch, trying to remind Max about her podiatrist appointment. And Corliss was just off-set, giggling at everything that came out of JB's mouth.

The inside of Max's head was not a good place to be at this moment. It was a dark, small space where strange, discordant music played on badly tuned violins. “Um, Tanya,” he said with all the pretend patience he could muster. “Why don't we try it again, but this time—”

“One sec!” Tanya shouted, putting a finger in the air and answering her phone for the umpteenth time in the last two hours. “Hello?” She covered her phone and announced to everyone: “Ohmygod, it's Marishka, the florist, and she is, like, so totally impossible to get a hold of! And I want lilies, and she's saying orchids, and I'm like, no way!” Tanya took the call, jabbering off into a corner of the set.

The camerawoman stepped forward. “I really have to go, Max. My arches fell yesterday, and I have to be fitted for corrective shoes.”

“Just a few more minutes?” Max pleaded.

“You'll recall I have to take the bus because my car's still in the shop getting the egg yolk taken off. If I don't make the twelve-twenty bus I could be on arch support for the rest of my life.”

“But we've only done three takes . . .” Max protested.

“Not my problemo,” said the camerawoman, lumbering away from her camera and heading off the set. “Call my union.” Just then Corliss threw her head back at something JB said and laughed/snorted so loudly that it echoed throughout the soundstage. Max winced and felt a crick in his neck.

“Max,” said Rocco, gesturing to where Corliss and JB stood giggling with each other, “the level of seriousness on the set has reached the proverbial low. Is there nothing that can be done to keep ‘professionalism' the byword of the day?”

“Whatever, SAT boy,” said Anushka wearily. “I'm standing here bald as a cue ball, just waiting for you to say
action
. It's Bridezilla and America's Next Top Husband over here who are gumming up the works.”

Trent grinned his crooked, love-drowned grin. “She just wants things to be, like, perfect.”

Max massaged his temples with his thumb and forefingers and made a mental note to call the Scientology Celebrity Centre to see if they could get him another counselor.

“For your information,” said Rocco to Anushka, “it's not Trent and Tanya who are permeating the air with non-professional behavior.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” said Anushka, the color rising in her face. “I'm the picture of professionalism! Here on time, knowing my lines—acting with
wooden
actors who'd rather be, I don't know, maybe
directing
?”

Rocco seethed. “That's no business of yours, Anushka.”

“And who your cousin text-messages is no business of
yours
, Rocco!” exploded Anushka, her big hoop earrings jangling. “I know you turned Patrizio against me! You've always had it out for me. And what did I ever do to you, you overeducated muscle boy?” Anushka tore off her bald cap, threw it at Rocco's feet, and stormed off.

“Anushka!” Max was about to head after her when he heard Corliss laugh/snort again from somewhere off-set. His head snapped in the direction of the sound and he got another crick. “Corliss!” he shouted, way up in his girly register.

“Yes, Max?!” Corliss said, appearing instantly. “Is everything okay?”

“No, Corliss. Everything is not okay. I've got one star talking cake, another talking nonsense, another tossing her bald cap, another speaking in a vocabulary that's way beyond my comprehension, and a camerawoman on a bus to her podiatrist.” Max counted to ten in his head (but in Spanish, as he was trying to get a date with Jessica Alba). It seemed to calm him down. But then something else occurred to him. Something that very much did
not
calm him down. “And what are you and JB giggling about? Whenever I need you lately you're off in some dark corner, tossing your head back and laughing way too loudly at something JB is saying.”

Corliss blushed deeply. Max looked at Rocco and Trent. They looked away. JB rushed in with that big, open, how-did-I-get-here face he sometimes had. “Heard m'name! Is my order up? Remember, I wanted fries with that shake!” Corliss gave him a face like “
Not
a good time.”

“Wait a second,” said Max, beginning to do the math in his head as he looked at their faces. Was there something going on between JB and Corliss after all? Could Corliss possibly be going behind his no-dating edict to date JB? Would she really betray his authority that way? Ignore the edict from above? Flout UBC company policy? It was all too much for Max to consider. “I have to lie down in my trailer . . .”