The Stars Trilogy (8 page)

But of course, she kept all her grudges to herself. Hollywood was a small community and word got around pretty fast. She didn’t want to antagonize people so early and earn unnecessary enemies.

Patience. She had to work her way up and get along with his co-workers and avoid getting in conflict with anyone at all costs.

Dare irritably dropped the script he was reading at the center of the conference table. “Is that what I’m paying you for?”

Egon Sheffer and Peter Ward, two young hotshot scriptwriters fresh from winning an Oscar in a collaborative work last year whom he was paying big to write his dream script for his debut big-budget movie, looked nervously at each other.

“That’s the best we can do, Dare,” said Egon.

“I’m not making a movie about two small-town drug addicts who accidentally find fame by robbing a freakin’ bank. Are you fucking kidding me?”

“But…this is Oscar material,” protested Egon, clearly insulted.

He smiled mirthlessly. “Fuck the Oscars. I don’t need them. I want a movie they do not approve of but cannot ignore for fear of losing credibility. Can you give me that?”

Egon breathed deeply, trying to maintain his composure. “What exactly do you want, Dare? This is the third script we’ve written for you and frankly, we are at a loss. We don’t know what you’re looking for.”

“Okay, thank you for your time. A person from my office will contact you and settle the payment.”

Minutes later, he was ranting at his agent/manager/publicist. Kelsey liked multi-tasking. It was her choice of drug.

“That’s a bunch of crap! Aren’t there any good scripts in Hollywood anymore?”

Kelsey, who was sitting with her legs tucked under her butt in the sofa made a face. “Not when you’re the anal of the century.”

“I’m not being anal. Those young guns think they can just write a stupid script and expect to win an award. Where the hell’s Speedy when you badly need him?”

“Give the poor man a break, will you? He said you’ve been harassing him too much he can’t think straight anymore.”

He felt guilty. “He didn’t say that, did he?”

“He did, too. He called me up to extend his apologies because you won’t take them. The guy’s burned out, Dare. Leave him alone. You’ll find your script somewhere else.”

“I don’t know. Nobody writes like Speedy. Everything I’ve read so far was devoid of real substance. These writers write stories thinking of the actors who’d play the lead. That was no doubt written for me, tailor-made for me and it was manipulated to fit my acting and my image. It’s just another Dare Montgomery crap, like the ones I’ve done before.”

Kelsey arched her brows. “Which made a combined worldwide earnings of 9 billion dollars, I should remind you.”

“But this is my movie, Kels, my baby. I want a story that I’ll be challenged to put on screen, something real, you know, not rehashed plots pretending to be socially conscious with the sole intention of getting the attention of those snobs. I don’t want that. I want to make a movie that I love. I haven’t really made one that I truly loved, Kels.”

Kelsey sighed. “Darling, you’ve been in this hiatus for more than a year now. Your fans miss you.”

“I did a few movies last year.”

“Those crazy cameos you did for Sasha Baron Cohen and Ben Stiller don’t count in my book. It’s time to shoot your next movie, you know, the kind that your fans are dying to see again? The boys at Universal called up. They want you to play the next Bourne.”

“Why me? I’m identified with Jack Logan.”

Kelsey shrugged. “I don’t know. They don’t care, I guess. They want you. Do you want it?”

He stood up to face the sunrise in the vast multileveled terraces of his modern Hollywood Hills mansion. He closed his eyes, feeling the soft heat of the morning sun on his skin. “I don’t know. I wish to play characters that really speak to the soul, not just to the gut.”

“Yes, I get you there but—”

“What’s the latest with the Wachowskis?”

“I heard they just bought the rights to Dave Mitchell’s Cloud Atlas. Lana’s writing the screenplay.”

“What about Shane Black?”

“I thought you wanted substance?”

“Kiss Kiss Bang Bang was good.”

She made an unladylike snort. “Not at the box office.”

He sighed heavily. Kelsey went to stand beside him. They didn’t only have a professional relationship but a friendship, as well. He trusted her implicitly.

“Dare, you should really think about your career path. I know you’re kind of burned out and you’re looking for something new in your career…something more exciting and challenging. But while you’re doing that, searching and stuff, you should not neglect your star and your fans. You have to do this Bourne movie. It’s huge.”

“Why are they replacing Matt?”

“I heard the story is not about Jason Bourne, just something related to him, so another actor can play the lead.”

“Who’s in the running for it?”

“None that I know of yet. They’re willing to wait for six months for you until you’re ready to shoot. But you have to make a commitment.”

He nodded. “Give me this week to think about it, okay?”

Kelsey touched his shoulder gently. “Dare…what is bothering you? Can I help?”

He sighed again. “I’m sorry, Kels. I know you just want the best for my career. Really, I’m so grateful for your help all these years. But I’m…I’m not happy anymore.”

“I wish I can help you. I’m helpless when you’re like this.”

He glanced at her and smiled. “How’s Drew?”

She cheered up at the mention of her other famous client, Drew Arroyo, a world champion race car driver for Ferrari. “Oh, he’s doing great. Blissfully married. Desiree is due to give birth anytime next month.”

“Glad to hear that. I’m happy for Drew.”

“You should think of starting your own family, too, you know?”

He didn’t answer.

“I may need to visit them soon. Drew’s endorsement contracts are up for renewal. I’m also negotiating his new endorsement for this Japanese car brand.”

“Sure, Kels. You need a vacation anyway.”

“Will you be fine? I may need to be away for like a month. I’ll pass by Italy first. Drew’s in Maranello right now preparing for the British Grand Prix.”

“Take your time. I’ll just holler on the phone when I really need you.”

“You know what, I’m tempted to look for some mail-order bride for you. That way, she’d come with strict specifications. Maybe you’d stay married for more than two years.”

He chuckled. “I want an Asian. A real one from Asia, not one who grew up in America.”

Her brows arched. “Why, what’s wrong with us Americans?”

“You want an honest answer to that?”

“Yup, and it had better be good.”

“Well, since you asked for it…American women are… complicated.”

“Complicated? Why do I think it’s a euphemism for something that I would kill you for?”

He grinned. “There you go. One word and you go all frothing-in-the-mouth on me.”

She rolled her eyes. “I am not! So, why an Asian now?”

“I heard that Asians are…uncomplicated.”

She pushed his shoulder. “And I have the feeling they’d kill you, too, if you define the word further!”

“What, I just want peace and quiet. Simple. Uncomplicated. Is that bad?”

“No, it’s not bad. But knowing you, simple and uncomplicated translate to docile and submissive. You don’t have to go to Asia to find the breed, darling. They’re crawling in Hollywood and you’ve been getting exactly the type all these years. But your simple is not their simple. Complicated? Nah. They’ve never had the power to complicate your life because they needed you more than you needed them. You haven’t been hanging out with the women that you truly want.”

He scratched his nape. “Kels, I’m not really up for your Gloria Steinem philosophies today.”

“Oh darling, you’ve never been in the zone with Gloria. And what a shame, because I think you two will get along just fine.”

He laughed. “Tell that to my one million disgusted ex-fans.”

“Nah. They just don’t know you as much as I do.”

He put his arm around Kelsey’s shoulders and kissed her hair. “So, do you know a reliable and discreet Asian mail-order bride agency?”

Laughing, she smacked him in the back. “You’re hopeless! By the way, how’s your divorce going?”

“Boyd’s taking care of it.”

“Gabby has been talking to the press a lot. You’ve-dumped-her-for-this-starlet-with-fake-everything is her favorite sob story.”

He shoved his hands inside his jeans pockets. “Which is the absolute truth.”

“So, who’s got Taylor now?”

He grinned. “Tom Wallace, a VP at Olympus. Taylor’s got another movie and she’s in the lead on this one.”

“She didn’t waste much time, huh?”

“Actually, I saw Tom in the rest room and he complimented me on my hot date. I know Tom from way back. He’s hard-working, straight-talking but a generally nice fellow. Told him Taylor and I are not really together and indirectly gave him encouragement to make the moves on her.”

“Wow. That’s so nice of you match-making for your floozy.”

He chuckled. “Anyway, at the Vanity Fair party, Tom went to work on Tay. I ignored her for the most part and chatted with Meryl Streep, but Tay didn’t seem to mind. An hour later, I told Taylor I wanted to go home. She looked so disappointed I was cutting short her good time with the crème de la crème of the business. I told her she could stay if she wanted to. Guess what happened?”

“She dumped you for Tom?”

“Excuse me, nobody dumps me.”

She rolled her eyes. “So, how did you dump her?”

“I sweet-talked Meryl into giving my gift to Taylor with the I-had-a-great-time note. I asked Ken to get me a set from Tiffany’s quick. Meryl is Tay’s idol and she’d been asking me for an introduction all night which I was saving for last. Then I left the party. Taylor called me up shortly. She thanked me for the gift and told me not to worry about her because she’s got new friends now. She won’t miss me for long, I suppose.”

“Wow, using Meryl to dump your floozy is quite unique, Dare. A master stroke. Remind me to call Dame Judy Dench to do the honors next time.”

“Come on, she’s gone. You should be happy now.”

“Nope. Because of that little bloodsucker, Gabby’s gonna rip you for more in your divorce settlement.”

“It’s okay. I’m willing to give her more, just to make her feel better.”

She sighed. “Why do you even marry anyway?”

He looked at her innocently. “What else? I don’t wanna look like an aging playboy who chases after young women. So, I marry and then hook up with young women.”

Kelsey shook her head. “My God, you’re really damaged, Dare.”

“I know. That’s why I’m helping you manage my terrible, terrible reputation. Marriage makes me appear more grounded and stable. Unfortunately, I’m not so lucky in that department. But a heartbroken, freshly divorced guy is easier to sell than say, a dirty old bloke like George. Don’t quote me on that.”

Kelsey laughed. “You’re not a dirty old bloke. You’re only thirty-three.”

“Don’t remind me. I feel ancient.”

“I hope one day soon, you’ll fall in love. Really fall in love. Then it will serve you right.”

“Yeah? You think I can still be saved from my descent to the pits?”

She turned serious. “You’re so worth saving, darling.”

He shook his head, smiling at her tenderly. “You do love me, don’t you?”

She hugged him. “Very much.”

She turned around to leave.

“Where are you going?”

“To google about Asian mail-order brides.”

He chuckled.

After Kelsey left, Dare became pensive. He wasn’t worried about the matter with Gabrielle. His third soon-to-be ex-wife would talk to his bank account. What was bothering him was Alana. She’d been calling him a lot since she got out of the hospital. His first ex-wife seemed to be in a depression of sorts. He might be inclined to believe those rumors of drug and alcohol abuse now.

Alana would cry on the phone.
“Dare...I’m so lonely...so lonely...I’m alone. Nobody loves me.”

He didn’t know what to say every time. Especially if she would latch on subjects he’d rather not talk about.

“Dare...do you still hate me? Have you truly forgiven me?”

He’d reassure her that he had. That she should move on. And she would cry, her sobs echoing in the hollowness of his soul.

But if he would be truthful to his conscience, he may have forgiven Alana but he had not forgiven himself.

For choosing her over Faye.

The elevator doors opened. Someone was inside.

Celine smiled when she saw it was Ben. “Good evening, Ben,”

“Hello, Celine.”

“You’re early tonight.”

“Think I’m coming down with a flu.”

Concerned, she touched his forehead. He felt warm.

“Are you okay? Have you taken anything?”

Ben shrugged. “I’ll just sleep it out. Been pressured at work lately. How have you been? You don’t seem like your usual cheerful self, my dear,”

She sighed. “I think I’m giving up, Ben.”

“How come, pumpkin?”

“I got fired from my job today,” she said glumly.

“Why? What happened?”

“Some guy’s been wanting to get in my pants for weeks now. He implied something like if I didn’t sleep with him, I’d lose my job. He tried to get really lucky with me today so I let my knee get acquainted with his errr...family jewels.”

Ben was sympathetic. “Good for you. Don’t let anybody treat you like that. Lots of lowlifes in Hollywood, kid.”

“Yes. But unfortunately, he’s chummy with an assistant director so there goes my job, too.”

Ben patted her shoulder. “We’ll get you another job. I’ll help you. I have connections.”

Her shoulders sagged dejectedly. “I don’t think my dream will ever come true. I’ve tried and tried and tried but our paths just won’t cross. Maybe it’s time to give up.”

Ben fell silent. He was squeezing and rubbing his arm up and down.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

He nodded. “Yeah, yeah…”

The elevator dinged on their floor. She stepped out of the lift. She paused when Ben didn’t follow. He remained standing there, leaning on the wall, massaging his chest. She went back to the lift and pushed the ‘open’ button. “Aren’t you coming?”