Coming Attractions by Rosie Vanyon

protests. But she was afraid—frightened he would undo two years of
healing, terrified he would sully the legitimacy of the film.
    “Cara, listen to me... I’m a
producer. Of course I want to see the film be a commercial success. Naturally, I’m
looking for a return on my investment. But not at the expense of the film’s veracity.”
    “Bullshit. You want love scenes.
Nudity. Sensationalism. You want to tip the balance so that my mother ends up
looking like a greedy slut. You have no interest in the facts. You only care
about the money. Sex sells. Isn’t that what they say?”
    “Jeez, Cara, I hardly think taking
a lover turns Alessandra into a slut. It makes no sense that she would go
thirteen years without a man—not without some driving reason. Having her
celibate for the whole film without some first-class incentive is going to
alienate audiences. A love interest humanizes her. You yourself said there was
a lot you still didn’t know about her. How can you know she was chaste the
whole time? It makes more sense to give her a man. We can do it tastefully.”
    “There is just no way you can have
her fuck some bloke without her looking cheap. It’s tacky. It’s tawdry. It’s
exactly what Mia was afraid of.”
    “It doesn’t have to be tacky. What
about us—you and me—last night? This morning? That was hardly tacky. That was
beautiful.”
    “How do I know you weren’t just
screwing me to soften me up for this conversation?” she spat.
    “I can’t believe you just said
that. Can you really devalue what we shared that way?”
    “There’s nothing to devalue. It was
just a stupid mistake.” She was shouting now. “And you can’t make major changes
without my consent. It’s in my contract.” Stung and battered, she ran from the
room.
    ****
    Levi swiped a hand over his face,
rubbed his eyes, and leaned back in the ergonomic chair with an unhappy sigh. He’d
sure as shit screwed that up, he thought. Cara was right. He couldn’t make
major changes to the script without her consent. But was adding a love interest
a major change? Unfortunately, he didn’t have time to drag through the courts
finding out. He was on a deadline that had nothing to do with production costs.
    Cara’s script was the best thing
that had ever crossed his desk. It was as close as anyone could get to a sure
bet when it came to the box office. But it needed to be zsuzsed up to ensure
success—more action, more violence—and more sex.
    He thumped his fist down on the
script. Cara was dead right when she said his priority was the money. In fact,
until he had actually met the beautiful and tempestuous writer, the money was all he had been focused on.
    Maybe if she had stopped shouting
for long enough to hear his point of view, they could have worked something
out. But that would mean actually sharing his perspective, he realized. It
would mean clawing open the past and hauling out all the pain and guilt and
wretchedness. It would mean trawling through his whole miserable history,
parading the shambles of his life in front of Cara, and emasculating himself in
the process.
    He ran a hand roughly through his
hair.
    Hell, if that’s what it took, that’s
what he would do. This movie needed to happen. It needed to happen his way. And
it needed to happen now.
    ****
    The smell of baking bread finally
lured her to the back kitchen. It seemed Levi was quite the cook.
    “Just because we disagree about the
movie, it doesn’t mean we can’t eat together,” he told her evenly, indicating
the two places set at the table. “Please. Sit. Red or white?”
    Tentatively, she took a seat,
admiring the way he’d laid the table. He’d dredged up a crisp white linen cloth
and clearly troubled himself to iron it. He’d found some pink candles and blown
glass candle holders. Even with mismatched silverware and shonky vinyl chairs,
the setting was delightful. There were fresh flowers floating in a crystal bowl
as a centerpiece.
    “You’ve gone