All the Stars in the Heavens by Adriana Trigiani Page A

the business of hope, with plots centered on get-rich-quick schemes and love stories that brought riches along with wedding vows.
    The art deco sets, layered confections of gleaming floors and vaulted ceilings, had audiences gazing up in aspirational wonder. Never mind that the Great Depression was in full force, with breadlines, unemployment, hunger, and need. The movies showed that dreams were as potent as reality. For a nickel, you could escape.
    David Niven felt slightly guilty that he had access to the one placeon earth that appeared to be unaffected by world events. It was as if the endless California sun beamed down on him, and only him, lighting a bright path to potential riches and romance.
    â€œYou’re going to do all right. You have wet eyes, Niven.”
    â€œI’m a crybaby, sir?”
    â€œNo. The best cinematographer told me that wet eyes are the one requirement of all movie actors. The eyes make the close-up. And yours are big and blue, which doesn’t hurt.”
    â€œI suppose every actor needs a gimmick.”
    â€œYou know what I like best about acting?”
    â€œThe ladies, sir?”
    â€œNope.” Gable threw the line into the water.
    â€œOh, I see. Fishing?” Niven said the word in such a way that it made Gable chuckle.
    â€œAnd hunting and golf. I work for everything in between. The time off.”
    â€œYou work to live.”
    â€œExactly.” Gabe smiled.
    â€œMy mother always says that’s the key to being happy. Don’t live to work, work to live. Of course, I hardly think my mother ever thought much about pursuing happiness. She rather thought it was a bird that landed on you. It was luck.”
    â€œI agree with your mother.”
    â€œA charwoman can be wise and better read than any queen.”
    â€œYour mother was a charwoman?”
    â€œNo. She just used to say that.”
    â€œEngland is far away. You can make up your backstory with any details you want. You wouldn’t be the first actor to pretend that he came from royalty. The front office will cook your humble beginning and make fancy jam out of it.”
    â€œOh, you make it sound so easy. Is acting as much fun as it looks?”
    â€œIf the director is enjoying his work, then I’m enjoying mine.”
    â€œHow about the leading ladies?”
    â€œThey’re all right.” Gable grinned.
    â€œI should say so, sir.”
    â€œI can’t figure women out, and I guess that’s what keeps me interested.”
    Gable surveyed the surface of the water. He tugged on the line gently. Niven stood at the ready to assist, marveling that Gable did not shrink against the vast horizon, but met its line. Other important actors and successful producers had rented the boat—Niven had swabbed for them too—but none stood out against the mighty ocean quite like this man. Gable was over six feet tall; he made the cruiser, with its wide deck and hefty sails, look like a dinghy.
    Despite Gable’s stature, there was an earthiness to the star that made him approachable, more field soldier than general. Niven decided Gable was impossibly likeable. This was a man he could envision becoming his friend, but only if he could one day be his equal.
    Suddenly the boat creaked and leaned. Gable’s reel bent, as he pulled back with steady force. Niven watched as Gable commandeered a ten-foot marlin out of the water, a swift arrow against a cloudless sky. With one graceful twist, Gable pulled the fish onto the deck, where it thrashed defiantly.
    â€œThrow the baby back,” Gable said. “We’ll keep this one.”
    David scooped the bin up to the rig and dumped the baby marlin back into the water, where it disappeared into the foam of the surf. “Lucky bastard.” Niven sighed. He hoped to be as lucky as the fish that got away.

    Gable walked across the MGM lot on his way to his bungalow. Robert Leonard, his current director on his new film, After