Starbright (41 page)

As Matthew pulled out of the parking lot, Connie turned in the passenger seat toward Beth, who sat in the back. “Well, missy, I heard about your arrival this morning with Aidan. Apparently, it was quite the spectacle.” A mischievous smile graced her face. “Look, I’m not preaching. I’m just warning you that tongues are wagging, so you two better be careful.”

Beth’s cheeks grew red. “Yes, I know. We had a meeting with Mr. Mertz about it already.”

Matthew let out a low whistle. “And you’re still alive to tell the tale?”

“What happened?” Connie gripped the leather headrest and leaned forward.

Beth shrugged. “Nothing. Aidan and I hid behind our costar relationship, knowing Mr. Mertz can’t ban us from rehearsing our lines—which was the excuse we used for spending time together off set and Aidan driving me to the studio this morning. He may have his suspicions about our relationship being more than just work-related, but he has no proof. Ultimately, I decided to continue arriving and leaving with Aidan and see what happens.”

Connie smirked. “I never thought I’d see the day. Elizabeth Sutton—rebel!”

Beth threw her head back and laughed. She liked the sound of that.

Aidan left his Porsche in the parking lot outside the building that housed the read-through and followed Kazan to his rented Cadillac. Whatever their impromptu meeting was about, it had to be important. Kazan was a workaholic, but he never stuck around the studio longer than he had to.

During the drive, Kazan talked about the read-through, commenting on various cast members and the ideas and criticisms brought up at the end of the session. Aidan listened half-heartedly, consumed with thoughts about the Chicago news, the upcoming emotional scenes in
Golden Gloves
, and the meeting he and Beth had with Mr. Mertz.

Aidan wanted to protect Beth from Mr. Mertz’s control more than ever now, but the studio mogul wasn’t her only threat. If he lost his grip on reality like he did during the filming of
Spike Rollins
, he could potentially be even more dangerous to her than her boss.

Aidan had been so caught up in the excitement of working with Beth that he didn’t think about the potential risk to her well-being. He was confident to a certain extent because he was more emotionally stable than he was when he first came to Hollywood, but he also wasn’t cured of his demons. If he got too comfortable, things could go wrong. He always had to be on guard.

Aidan hadn’t visited Kazan’s temporary office on the studio lot before and was surprised by how dilapidated the building looked on the outside. It was one of the older structures on the grounds, reminiscent of a deserted motel in desperate need of a paint job instead of the location of an esteemed director’s headquarters.

The elevator was broken so they climbed the stairs to the third floor. Kazan led Aidan down a barren hallway to an unmarked wooden door with more than a few chips in it and no nameplate. He motioned for Aidan to enter first.

The office was a tiny, stuffy room with one even smaller room leading off it. Kazan’s longtime assistant, Eileen Shanahan, greeted them and offered Aidan coffee. He politely declined.

The reception area looked similar to Kazan’s office in New York: full of cabinets, with barely enough room for Eileen’s desk, and walls covered in dozens of theatrical posters, such as the
Skin of Our Teeth
by Thorton Wilder,
One Touch of Venus
by A N. Rehrman, and
A Streetcar Named
Desire
by Tennessee Williams. Kazan had directed them all—in addition to the handful of motion pictures he had under his belt. Aidan guessed he had hung them up to lend the office a lived-in feel with the comforts of home.

After rifling through the mail handed to him by Eileen, Kazan brought Aidan into the warm, unimposing room in the back. He shut the door and gestured to a low couch situated against one wall.

“Have a seat, kid.”

Aidan sat down. Kazan took a seat on an identical sofa across from him, which had two telephone books stacked in place of a missing leg. The only source of light came from the setting sun, which filtered in through the fire escape that snaked past the sole window in the room. A desk covered with scattered papers and a typewriter stood in front of it. Even after all of his success, Kazan didn’t show off. Family photographs covered one wall of the room while the rest were bare. There was no Oscar or plaques in sight.

“Cigar?” Kazan extended the open box to him.

Aidan shook his head. “No, thanks. I quit all that stuff to help me get in shape to play Joe.”

Kazan pulled out a cigar for himself and placed the box on a nearby table. “You never cease to amaze me, Evans.”

He lit up, sending a sweet, smoky smell across the room, which battled with Aidan’s resolve not to reconsider the offer.

Aidan leaned back in his seat. “I’m still the same guy, just improved a bit.”

“Not a bit. A lot.” Kazan exhaled a dense cloud of smoke on a chuckle. “Anyway, I called you in here to discuss you and Beth. I didn’t want to drag her along, too, because it’s her first day and I can tell she’s nervous. I don’t want to bombard her with more than I have to.”

Aidan reached his arm along the back of the couch and eased down into the worn cushion below. “Lay it on me, Gadg.”

“Look, I know you’re head over heels for this girl, but you gotta make it less noticeable.” Kazan pointed the tip of the cigar at him. “I don’t care who you date, but romantic relationships amongst cast members can make others on set feel uneasy. No one has said anything, but they’d be blind if they didn’t have a hint you two are an item. I just wanted to nip it in the bud before we hit the soundstage.”

Aidan smirked. “It’s that obvious, huh?”

Kazan grinned and puffed some more on his cigar. “The marquees on Broadway are less flashy than the sign you’ve got on your forehead, blinking,
I’ve fallen for Elizabeth Sutton
.”

Aidan chuckled. “Okay, I’ll try to tone it down, but I’m not gonna ignore her or shit like that.” His expression turned serious. “The truth is, Gadg, I love her.”

“Yeah, I figured.” Kazan held up his hands in defense. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for young love—fighting for your broad, the whole nine yards—and I’m truly happy for you. Just remember to be professional. I’m not harping on you. I’m just making you aware. When you’re caught in the thick of things, it’s hard to see your situation objectively. Love is blind, and all that jazz.”

Aidan waved his hand in dismissal. “Don’t worry. I know you’re just watching out for me.”

Kazan studied the smoke that billowed from the end of his cigar. “I gotta say, your girl has got major talent. The camera is gonna love her, and she’s eager to learn the Method, which is great.”

“She’s really excited to be working on this project.”

Kazan took another drag. Smoke left his mouth in a large plume as he exhaled deeply. “So, I heard you dodged a bullet fired by Luther Mertz today.”

Aidan ran his hand through his hair. “Man, word travels fast. The meeting only happened at lunch.”

A smile reached the corners of Kazan’s lips. “When I stepped out of the room mid-afternoon for a bathroom break, I ran into Henry King. Instead of asking about the film, he asked about you and Beth.” He gave a short laugh. “Luckily, the story that leaked is you two are just rehearsing your lines, so everyone has calmed down.”

“Before Beth got hired for
Golden Gloves
, Mertz told her she couldn’t hang around me at all because I’d harm her image. Then we showed up on the lot together this morning and the guy had the nerve to try to haul her into his office alone to tell her to stop associating with me off studio grounds.” Aidan rolled his eyes. “Like hell I was gonna let that happen. So I went with her and put him in his place.”

“Good for you.” Kazan stood from the couch and ruffled his hair. “Luther needs regular reminders that he has no right to order everyone around regarding personal matters, especially someone as sweet as Beth.”

Aidan followed Kazan to the door. He was grateful the director was being straight with him. He despised people talking behind his back, particularly when it involved his relationship with Beth.

“Maybe it was daring of me to drive her on the first day—I mean, she was already nervous about the read-through—but I figured it was gonna happen eventually, so there was no point in putting it off.”

Kazan frowned. “I hate to say it, but this is far from over with Luther.”

“Don’t I know it. He’s adamant in messing with me just because I refused to sign his stupid contract when I first came out here.” Aidan’s face tightened with the memory of their earlier confrontation. “You should’ve seen me with him today. The way he was trying to control Beth—man, he pissed me off so much I could’ve clobbered him.”

Kazan opened the door, the cigar clenched between his teeth. “I know how much Beth means to you. If Luther starts crowding the set with his goons, I’ll make sure he’s aware I won’t stand for it. After all, I made it a closed set for a reason. I don’t want any distractions during filming.”

As Kazan turned to leave, Aidan grabbed his shoulder. “Hey, Gadg?”

He pulled the cigar from his mouth. “What is it?”

“Listen, about Chicago…” Aidan’s voice died in his throat, along with his confidence.

Kazan’s eyebrows furrowed. “What’s wrong, kid?”

“I, uh…” Aidan studied the floor. “I got this personal connection to the city. My father—well, I really don’t consider him my father—but…”

Kazan ground out his cigar in a nearby ashtray. “I knew something was up when I made the announcement. Your reaction wasn’t what I expected.”

“Chicago doesn’t exactly hold the best memories for me.” Aidan gathered the courage to look Kazan in the eye. “Listen, how does one deal with heavy, emotional stuff—like stuff you wouldn’t want to channel into your character even when he’s supposed to be conflicted and full of guilt and anguish?”

Kazan shut the door, affording them privacy again. “Look, Aidan, I wasn’t going to bring it up, but considering where I think this topic is headed, I’m just gonna come right out and say it. I heard about what happened on the
Spike Rollins
set with Richard Rooney.”

Aidan cringed. “Yeah, I figured as much. L.A. and New York are on different coasts, but they share a direct line when it comes to industry gossip.”

“I don’t judge others,” Kazan said, quelling only some of his discomfort. “I mean, we all have issues.”

“I know.” Aidan forced a small smile beneath hesitant eyes. “It’s just that your opinion matters a lot to me. I don’t want you thinking I got any screws loose or something—that I won’t be able to play Joe effectively.”

“The thought never crossed my mind.” Kazan regarded him sympathetically. “I’m not going to inquire into the whys behind what happened that day with Richard, but I’m guessing you’re scared as hell it’ll happen again.”

“I’m sorry I can’t go into specifics. It’s difficult for me to talk about.” Aidan rubbed his hand along the base of his skull. “Anyway, I’ve been dealing with shit better since then—since Beth came into my life—but with her as my costar, I don’t want to risk anything. If I ever hurt her—”

Kazan held up his hand to interrupt. “Method acting is about discovering parts of you that you may abhor, but it’s also about self-control. You have to focus. An actor must expose a part of himself to play a role, but not give himself up entirely. It’s one thing to lose yourself in your character, but another to let your character completely consume you.”

Aidan sighed. “That’s what I’ve always had trouble with.”

“I gotta say, Aidan, I sensed your underlying turmoil long before I heard about the
Spike Rollins
incident—when I first met you, actually—though I have no idea what it stems from. You were so ambivalent; uncertain with yourself yet passionate.” Kazan’s lips lifted a little. “I remember in the beginning, right after your admittance into the Actors Studio, you were scarcely present at our workshops. And when you did come in, you’d sit in the back, a surly mess, and never participate. Other members were intimidated by you, though you were never rude to them, ever. You were quiet and reserved, and I realized quickly it wasn’t because you hated being there. It was because you were always thinking, watching, absorbing as much as you could.

“Then one day, out of nowhere, you raised your hand and asked to be a part of the next scene.” Kazan’s eyes brightened with the recollection. “Lee and I were completely blown away by your performance, more so than during your audition. Everyone in the room was. We all knew we’d witnessed something special, just like the people who watched
Spike Rollins
recognized instantly that you had a tremendous gift and were going to turn the profession upside down in the best possible way.

“I also knew after watching you that you belonged in motion pictures, that your talent wasn’t limited to the stage. Sure, fame is a huge tradeoff, but you were destined for greater things, a bigger audience. I could feel it. You just needed the perfect entry part. So when I heard about the
Spike Rollins
script—how good it was—and Preston Adams’ difficulty casting the lead role, I suggested your name. He said he’d never heard of you, which surprised him because he figured he’d auditioned every young actor in L.A. and New York for the part at the time.