Feast of Saints (5 page)

The responsibility for managing a small contract like Lilly’s normally would have fallen to one of Phillip’s staff of talented agents. However, Jake had asked Phillip to personally handle her contract. Standing here now, thinking that he probably wouldn’t have a reason to talk to her or see her again for a month, he found himself wishing he was personally managing Lilly Rose.

Reluctant to let her go, he stalled. “I take it this means you’ve decided to take this on?”

“Yes. That is, if you still want me to?” she asked. She had been so bold on Friday and so confident and professional this afternoon, he was surprised she let slip the insecurity her question implied.

Jake was developing a lot of wants when it came to her. He was going to have to get control of them, or their professional relationship could be an embarrassing disaster. Maybe a few weeks and a half a world apart from her was a good thing right now.

Closing the trunk of the packed Bentley and beating Wil to the punch to open her door, he said, “I’d hate to have all of our hard work today go to waste. I’ll see you in September.”

Lilly didn’t waste a moment when Wil dropped her off at her bungalow. She began to unpack the tubs containing the molds of Jake’s body parts in her kitchen as Wil brought items in from the SUV.

“Can I help you with those bags outside, too?” Wil asked. Several heavy, dusty bags of dry plaster purchased this morning were sitting on her front porch.

“That would be wonderful. Thank you, Wil.” She grabbed an old sheet from her hall closet and spread it out on her kitchen floor. “Set them here, please.”

When Wil left, Lilly began mixing the plaster that she would use to fill the casts of Jake. She mixed the dry plaster with warm water by hand, her experienced eye knowing just when she’d gotten the right mix of ingredients. When she was satisfied with the texture, she poured the first cast. She reached into Jake’s head to make sure the plaster filled his nose, ears and chin and that there were no air bubbles. Alternating between mixing more plaster when needed and pouring, she completed the rest of the casts.

The waiting was the hardest part. Jake’s parting words about not letting their hard work go to waste kept ringing in her head. The process of removing the alginate molds from the plaster casts would destroy the molds. If the casts turned out well, she could make as many more molds as she wanted from the plaster casts. But if she’d made a major mistake on these first molds, she would have no choice but to reschedule another casting session.

Her stomach turned at the thought. Jake had surprised her today by being much more approachable than the aloof man who sat silently through lunch on Friday. And thoughtful. The turkey, avocado and cranberry relish wrap he sent home with her was delicious.

Although, bending to untie her Dsquared2 Roxy hiking boots, she wasn’t sure how she felt about a man who made fun of her shoes. When you are only 5’1”, selecting shoes can be complicated. Sneakers and Mary Janes made her look like a child. Pumps in combination with her petite size made her look like a kindergarten teacher.

Kyle, her personal style maven, told her long ago that if she wanted to be noticed as a woman, her shoes needed to be tall and dramatic, although he hadn’t said it so nicely.

Sitting at The Mellow Mushroom in Lawrence one night in her junior year at KU, Kyle had rudely interrupted Lilly’s grumbling about her nonexistent love life.

“Lilly, honey, look at you,” he said, casting a mournful eye over her shapeless campus bookstore Jayhawks sweatshirt, blue jeans and Converse sneakers.

“You dress like you’re still in high school, and you look even younger. Drew, there,” he pointed at the guy who worked the cash register, “didn’t charge you for your sub because it’s ‘kids eat free’ night.”

“Yeah, well, he’s stoned,” she’d said. But she took Kyle’s words to heart and, with his guidance, gradually adjusted her style. Fitted tops and belted dresses emphasized her trim waist. V-necks and A-lines elongated her frame. Low rise jeans, snug T-shirts, slim skirts. Nothing baggy. But most of all, the right shoes. Shoes that would bring her closer to eye level with the men she wanted to attract. Luckily, with her tiny feet, she could almost always find must-have designer footwear in her size on final-final markdown.

Stashing the Roxies in her shoe rack, Lilly headed back into the kitchen to peel back the first mold of Jake’s face and head. Revealing the chin first, she was heartened to see the slightly off-center dimple. That level of detail signaled that the rest of the cast was going to be good.

Indeed, all were excellent. An hour later, she’d completely reconstructed Jake’s upper body, having cut, sanded, plastered and sculpted until his head and torso fit together seamlessly. Tomorrow she would call Greg and see about ordering an industrial steel stand to mount plaster Jake in her studio. She needed it steady and immobile so that she could make additional casts over the next few days. She would use the plaster Jakes to start toying with designs for his character’s special effects makeup.

It was one thing to draw concepts on a piece of paper. It was altogether different seeing them on the actor. Having the plaster casts to work with was the next best thing to having the actor try on the makeup. Better, even. The statues didn’t complain, or need to take bathroom breaks.

Chapter 5

Lilly worked in fits and starts over the following days. On Tuesday, Phillip couriered over Chris Nolan’s
Feast
screenplay on the promise that she would exchange packages with the courier and send back the signed confidentiality agreement and contract for the job. Since then, it seemed like every time she started getting into the script her phone would ring. She was still officially on call for post-production work on
Catillac Cats
, so she couldn’t just turn it off.

One of the calls, though, was a welcome interruption. Kyle called from Busan, South Korea, to tell her he had been offered a job in LA starting in the fall at FIDM, the Fashion Institute of Design & Merchandising.

“It’s just for a semester. Is that too long to crash with you?”

“Of course not!” she said immediately. Kyle had visited so often that he’d taken over her attic. Slowly, over the last couple of years, the exposed rafters had been beautifully transformed with paint and fabric interspersed with acrylic light-backed art pieces. Any time he stayed for over a week, he would buy something for the room, until he had created a magical space.

“What will you be teaching?” she asked, truly curious. Kyle had tremendous fashion knowledge, but it was mostly self-taught. He had played around a lot in college. A liberal arts degree from Kansas University with a dubious grade point average didn’t seem like something that would have much cache at the prestigious fashion school.

“Don’t sound so shocked, ye of little faith,” scoffed Kyle. “Actually, those foolish people told me to write my own curriculum. I’m doing a soup to nuts on runway fashion, starting with what it takes to get designs to the runway and ending with their ultimate marketing impact. I’ve already got some guest speakers lined up, but now I’m not telling you who, Miss Poo-Poo.”

“Then I’ll just have to audit the class. It sounds fascinating,” Lilly enthused.

“Now you’re just blowing smoke up my skirt,” chided Kyle.

“I’m not. Your international fashion week escapades will have the whole class enthralled.” Lilly was serious, although the stories would have to be heavily edited before they would be suitable to tell in mixed company.

“When will you get here?”

“Mid-September, if that’s okay? I told them I just couldn’t miss Mercedes.” Mercedes referred to Mercedes-Benz Fashion Week in New York. The semi-annual event was one of the major fashion weeks held around the world along with those in Paris, London and Milan.

“That’s perfect.” She was thrilled to have him but relieved that she’d have a stretch of quiet around the house to work on
Feast
before he arrived.

“The semester starts earlier, but Brad Goreski has agreed to fill in for me the first week and Bill Kaulitz the second. They only loosely fit the curriculum but I don’t think the class will mind,” Kyle cooed demurely.

Undoubtedly not. Brad shot to fame a few years ago as the flamboyant assistant on The Rachel Zoe Project, a fashion-centric reality series on Bravo, before spinning off his own show, “It’s a Brad Brad World.” He and Kyle had met two years ago in LA, and ever since, Brad had been trying to get Kyle to make an appearance on the show.

Brad was a coup, but Bill Kaulitz. Wow. Just wow. Lilly was seriously considering figuring out a way to audit Kaulitz’ class. Kyle must have selected him for his modeling background, but Lilly knew him better as the lead singer of the techno-pop band Tokio Hotel. His style was striking: ultra-dark eyeliner, long hair dramatically styled. His face was more beautiful than most female fashion models.

“Holy cow, Kyle. FIDM’s never going to let you go.”

“Yeah, well, they’ve already offered me an open-ended contract, but I don’t know. You know it’s hard for me to stay in one place.”

Lilly did know. It took all of her cajoling and persuasive powers to get him to stay in Kansas and finish his degree after she left. He’d gotten into a graduate program at NYU, but he only stayed a semester before heading to Europe and beyond.

“Well, I’ve got some good career news, too.” She went on to tell him about
Feast of Saints
and working with Jake Durant.

“Oh. My. God. Way to bury the lead! When did this happen?”

“Last Friday. I tried to call you but I kept getting an automated message that your line was unavailable.”

“That’s Busan for you. Everything that can go wrong has gone wrong this week. Soo Joo fell off the runway and bled all over the Christophe Guillarme Rorschach I had my eye on for you. But wait until you see the Suecomma Bonnies I scored.” Lilly’s mouth watered. Korean shoe designer, Bonnie Lee, was her all-time favorite.

“But tell me more about the film. And Jake Durant.”

She bit her lip in the effort to choose just a few words to capture how she felt. Her thoughts were all over the place and this call had to be costing Kyle a fortune. “It’s overwhelming, and so is he,” she finally said.

“I’ll bet. The man’s a walking aphrodisiac. Does he have a girlfriend? Or boyfriend?” Kyle asked hopefully. Several of Jake’s roles had raised speculation regarding his sexual preferences.

Lilly didn’t like to stereotype, but she was pretty sure Jake wasn’t gay. He was just so… masculine. She quickly put a brake on the direction of her thoughts. He was out of her league. Stratospherically.

“I think he might have a girlfriend,” she said. In her Internet search a few nights ago, she’d come across plenty of gossip items about Jake and other women, mostly actors, and a few models. If the tabloids held any truth, his most enduring love interest was Canadian actress Sierra Nighly.

Before Kyle made any outrageous suggestions about how Jake might improve her nonexistent love life, she changed the topic, bringing Kyle up to date on her brother’s life and the antics of his six year old, Anna.

When they’d caught each other up on the highlights of their lives apart, Kyle, always in tune with her insecurities, so like his own, said, “Don’t sweat the new job. You’re going to knock him dead. By the time I get there, you’ll have Jake Durant wrapped around your pinky.”

She snorted. “I don’t think so. But I’m going to try.” As intimidating as she found him, she did feel like she was doing a fair job of establishing a professional rapport.

“I’ll see you in a few weeks, Tink.”

“I’ll keep the porch light on.” It was something her father used to say.

Talking with Kyle always helped her find her inner strength. If it hadn’t been for him, she probably would have stayed on the farm, where she would have eventually snapped and buried her father on the back forty. Moving away from the farm, and not moving back after college, had been the right decision for her and her father. Whether out of necessity or love, he had remarried and it had mellowed him. Their once rocky relationship had found a relatively easy rhythm. She called him to report in every few weeks and made the trip home at least once a year, at Thanksgiving or Christmas. They were warm holidays, the anger and resentment long gone, on both sides.

Sighing, she went to stand in her studio amidst the growing grove of Jake statues and disembodied limbs on metal stands. She’d covered her desk with thick plastic and on it sat a large block of clay. Using a wire cutter that looked like an oversized cheese knife, she carved a hunk off of the clay and kneaded it in her hand. Standing facing Jake’s white plaster face, she began adding features. Just toying with effects, she used the clay to fill in his broken nose, straightening and sharpening it. She also filled in the dimple in his chin and built out his cheekbones, making his face more triangular than square. On a whim, she sculpted pointy elf ears.

She laughed at the effect. He looked so wise, benevolent. Not at all what was needed for Allegrezza. Moving to the next Jake, she began building out his brow, exaggerating the slight frown he must have had under the alginate. The effect was immediate. Lilly deepened the expression. Oooo. Scary. Now she was getting somewhere. Rolling her office chair to sit in front of the scowling Jake, she pulled out a pad of artists’ paper and a new pack of soft, colored pencils and began drawing. By one a.m., she had papered half of a wall with scowling and benevolent Jakes and some drawings that melded the two together. Yawning, satisfied that she had at least started to get some inspiration, she headed for bed.

That night, Lilly dreamed of Jake. The dream started innocently enough. She stood on the edge of her father’s cornfield. It was a hot summer day and the corn was getting tall. As she looked out over the field into the western afternoon sun, she shaded her eyes and searched for her father’s tractor. Not seeing the telltale plume of dirt and dust that usually followed the tractor, she turned toward the house. Everything seemed deserted. Shutters flapped on the second story of the farmhouse, although she felt no breeze.

As she surveyed the house and yard, the sun was suddenly eclipsed as a great shadow fell over her. Ducking instinctively, like a rabbit hunted by a hawk, Lilly covered her head and neck, not daring to look up. The ground shook around her as something massive landed right behind her. It was so large that its shadow blocked the sun and spread out and around her, darkening the barnyard.

Although the sun’s rays were shielded, the heat was not. The heat continued to grow, emanating from the thing. Sweltering in the heat, she slowly lifted her head and turned to peer at the monster behind her. At first, all she could see was blackness blotting out the sun. Then she registered the color and vibrancy of it – like a burning lava flow – shifting, undulating colors of blackest coal, brick red, gashes of fiery orange, flashes flaming yellow.

The sun’s rays outlined the contours of its shape. There were massive shoulders and wings not fully unfurled yet spanning ten fence posts – eighty feet. Thick legs straddled her as it towered above her. A tail, sharp and whipping, agitated the ground and air, slicing through the corn behind it and kicking up shredded vegetation and dirt.

Lilly looked up into the face, harsh, cruel – uncaring – and recognized those features. She felt the skin on her face and hands begin to blister and boil from its, his, proximity. The heat swiftly became too much, and her clothes and hair burst into flame.

She woke from the dream with a start and a muffled scream. The blankets were twisted around her and her face was buried under her pillow, smothering her. She gasped for air, choking on her scream. Shoving the pillow off of her head, she scrambled to get out of the bed and fell to the floor in the twisted blankets. She frantically patted her face, her hair and her chest. Although drenched with sweat, she was unharmed. Not on fire. Not on fire.

On her second cup of tea, Lilly finally screwed up enough courage to go into the studio to stare down the face of her nightmare. With trembling fingers she reached out and touched the furrowed brow, the straight nose and the full lips. Tracing her hand down his torso, she thought of the tough as nails, scaly skin of the Jake of her dream with his razor sharp features. Lilly picked up a pad of artists’ paper and sketched him several times, scattering the nightmare drawings on the floor as she worked. She drew him in the barnyard. She drew him hovering over her father’s cornfield. She drew him blasting his surroundings with flames. It was a technique she had learned in her teenage years. The more familiar she could make her waking mind with her nightmare, the quicker she could recognize what was happening in her sleep and make herself wake up.

By mid-morning, Lilly was ankle deep in paper. Uncovering her block of clay, she began sculpting the third Jake statue. By dinnertime, dragon Jake stared out at her, placidly immobile. No threat now. Little of what she had done would work for Allegrezza, but she felt better. When she dreamed of him again that night, she was prepared. It was the same dream as the night before. But this time, before she turned to look at him, before he could set her on fire, she willed herself awake.

The following day, she began again on the second bust, going in a much different direction than either the Jake of her nightmares or the first, whimsical, elfin Jake statue. She continued to work with the same statue for the next week. When she wasn’t working on the design, she watched all of Jake’s movies.

He never played a good guy. Two of his early gangster movies were so disturbing that she was forced to turn them off and couldn’t turn them back on until Becky came over, promising to watch them with her in the light of day. They had still scared her half to death.

As she constructed Allegrezza’s features, she could see Jake’s brutal movie characters in the furrowed brow and aggressive chin. She saw promise in the design, but struggled to connect with Allegrezza the brute villain, feeling an odd discordance with it. Three times she found herself recreating the much more angularly vicious dragon Jake features and had to take them off and start over. After the third time, she threw a sheet over the dragon Jake so she wouldn’t be influenced by it while she worked, although he still came to her nearly every night to interrupt her sleep, intent on setting her on fire.

On Wednesday, she was a week and a half into the project and feeling desperate. When her doorbell rang, she was happy for the reprieve. It was Jake’s driver, Wil, bearing two tickets to Tyler’s guest performance at the Geffen Playhouse on Saturday night.

“Tyler was at the house for dinner last night, and asked that I bring these to you, Ms. Rose,” Wil said. “He suggested you might like to bring your niece, Anna.” Lilly had brought Anna to meet Tyler several times during her work on
Fox
and
Cats
.

Lilly picked up the phone to call her brother as soon as Wil left to arrange the date, offering that Anna come over in the afternoon and spend the night. Lionel and Julie were thrilled to have a rare whole night alone.

Saturday afternoon, Lilly shut the door on the disturbing figures in her studio before Anna arrived. The girls spent two hours getting ready, complete with home pedicures. It was a refreshing break having Anna take her mind off of the work on
Feast
. She hadn’t realized how dark her spirits had become.