this?”
“Of course not! I’ve never done anything like this before in my life. What do you think I am, a criminal?” Her top lip was quivering a little, but she flipped her hair and forced a smirk. “Look, just tell me what you’re going to do and get it over with. Call the police. Blacklist me all over town. I don’t care.”
He was staring at her with both eyes now. “As long as you don’t have to have sex with me.”
“Sex is for love. I don’t care how insane that sounds to someone like you. It’s the way I’m going to live. Even if you offered me a starring role in your next movie and half this house, I still wouldn’t sleep with you.”
He didn’t say anything as he reached for his shoes, but he groaned a little when he put them on. Maybe it was true about the blisters.
When he stood up, she was struck again by how tall he was. Tall and intimidating. She stood up too, but it didn’t help.
“Let’s go.” He waved his hand in the direction of the door.
“Where?”
“Back to the party.”
“Both of us?”
He was already opening the door, and then they were in the hall, crowded with guests. His mother, Margaret, was taking them to the screening room in the west wing of the house. It was time to watch A Silver Dollar and a Gun.
“Would you sit with me?” he said to Lucy.
She was very surprised, but she said okay. At least she’d have a good seat, she thought, though it didn’t turn out to be true. Charles always sat in the back so he could watch everyone’s reactions. He said these closed preview screenings were a farce—no one ever said what they really thought—but he could tell whether the scenes were working by the way the audience breathed and moved in their seats. Too much sighing or squirming was obviously bad, but nonewas bad too. “If the hero is in danger,” he told Lucy, “everyone should be uncomfortable.”
Lucy was uncomfortable, no problem there. Before the movie started, at least half the room turned around to catch a glimpse of her. Later, she would discover that Charles had never had a woman sit with him during a screening. He said he’d never trusted any woman he’d been with not to distract him with false praise.
After the movie was over, he asked if she’d stay at his side while he suffered through the applause and backslapping. When her roommate, Janice, came up to ask what was going on, Lucy shrugged, but Charles said the explanation was simple.
“Lucy is not corrupt.”
Janice’s eyes were on her. Several other people had gathered in a circle around Charles, and they were looking at her too. One of them was the actress Belinda Holmes, who had been the female lead in several of Keenan’s movies.
Lucy wondered if he’d been drinking, but then she realized she’d been with him for more than two hours. Even if he had, it would have worn off by now.
“This girl has moral values,” he said, emphasizing his point with one hand slicing the air. His tone became loud, as if he were giving a speech. Which he was. The crowd around them was growing with his every word. “Too many people in this business don’t even know what that means anymore. Immoral behavior has become so commonplace that they don’t even call it that, they call it ‘looking out for your career. Doing what you have to do.’ There’s no such thing as bad or good, only the next big score.”
The longer Charles talked, the more Lucy thought he sounded like one of the monologues that were considered the “signatures” of his movies. Unlike old-fashioned Westerns, Keenan’s films always contained at least one direct address to the audience, usually by the sheriff. Movie critics loved to talk about the meaning of these monologues, claiming they were really about Watergate, the Vietnam War, feminism, race relations, all the issues of the day. Lucynever really caught any of that. To her, the sheriff sounded like her grandpa, spinning a tale of the old days when good was good and bad
“Of course not! I’ve never done anything like this before in my life. What do you think I am, a criminal?” Her top lip was quivering a little, but she flipped her hair and forced a smirk. “Look, just tell me what you’re going to do and get it over with. Call the police. Blacklist me all over town. I don’t care.”
He was staring at her with both eyes now. “As long as you don’t have to have sex with me.”
“Sex is for love. I don’t care how insane that sounds to someone like you. It’s the way I’m going to live. Even if you offered me a starring role in your next movie and half this house, I still wouldn’t sleep with you.”
He didn’t say anything as he reached for his shoes, but he groaned a little when he put them on. Maybe it was true about the blisters.
When he stood up, she was struck again by how tall he was. Tall and intimidating. She stood up too, but it didn’t help.
“Let’s go.” He waved his hand in the direction of the door.
“Where?”
“Back to the party.”
“Both of us?”
He was already opening the door, and then they were in the hall, crowded with guests. His mother, Margaret, was taking them to the screening room in the west wing of the house. It was time to watch A Silver Dollar and a Gun.
“Would you sit with me?” he said to Lucy.
She was very surprised, but she said okay. At least she’d have a good seat, she thought, though it didn’t turn out to be true. Charles always sat in the back so he could watch everyone’s reactions. He said these closed preview screenings were a farce—no one ever said what they really thought—but he could tell whether the scenes were working by the way the audience breathed and moved in their seats. Too much sighing or squirming was obviously bad, but nonewas bad too. “If the hero is in danger,” he told Lucy, “everyone should be uncomfortable.”
Lucy was uncomfortable, no problem there. Before the movie started, at least half the room turned around to catch a glimpse of her. Later, she would discover that Charles had never had a woman sit with him during a screening. He said he’d never trusted any woman he’d been with not to distract him with false praise.
After the movie was over, he asked if she’d stay at his side while he suffered through the applause and backslapping. When her roommate, Janice, came up to ask what was going on, Lucy shrugged, but Charles said the explanation was simple.
“Lucy is not corrupt.”
Janice’s eyes were on her. Several other people had gathered in a circle around Charles, and they were looking at her too. One of them was the actress Belinda Holmes, who had been the female lead in several of Keenan’s movies.
Lucy wondered if he’d been drinking, but then she realized she’d been with him for more than two hours. Even if he had, it would have worn off by now.
“This girl has moral values,” he said, emphasizing his point with one hand slicing the air. His tone became loud, as if he were giving a speech. Which he was. The crowd around them was growing with his every word. “Too many people in this business don’t even know what that means anymore. Immoral behavior has become so commonplace that they don’t even call it that, they call it ‘looking out for your career. Doing what you have to do.’ There’s no such thing as bad or good, only the next big score.”
The longer Charles talked, the more Lucy thought he sounded like one of the monologues that were considered the “signatures” of his movies. Unlike old-fashioned Westerns, Keenan’s films always contained at least one direct address to the audience, usually by the sheriff. Movie critics loved to talk about the meaning of these monologues, claiming they were really about Watergate, the Vietnam War, feminism, race relations, all the issues of the day. Lucynever really caught any of that. To her, the sheriff sounded like her grandpa, spinning a tale of the old days when good was good and bad
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