The Wisdom of Perversity by Rafael Yglesias

into a torturer; our brave heroine who is left dysfunctional by his torture; and her husband who is forever branded as a coward for betraying her. The movie is about trying to resolve the past for all three of these damaged people. At one time or another Aries has been each of them. He isn’t doing this story to reclaim his reputation or make excuses. Aries lived without a family from seven to thirteen. At thirteen, he got into film school. He boarded there, a child among adults, and there he learned how to act, how to write, how to operate a camera, how to direct. He grew up at last, up and out of the terror of his childhood, all the while surrounded by people who wanted the same thing: to make movies. They became his family. And they are still the only family he can rely on. He’s making this picture with us, with members of his family, to heal himself.”
    Veronica’s supple features transformed in a instant from skepticism to wonder. “To heal himself . . .” she whispered.
    â€œTo heal himself,” Brian repeated.
    Her eyes glistened with tears. Brian felt a heart stopping stab of pure pleasure.
I’ve moved her. I’ve moved her with my words,
he congratulated himself, then immediately conceded the possibility:
And she’s a great actress.
    â€œWell . . .” Veronica looked contrite. “I thought I was cutting my fee in half because you can’t expect a big audience for a political drama. I didn’t realize I was doing psychotherapy. Now I’m ashamed I’m asking for any money at all.”
    Brian chuckled.
Tears in her eyes and steel in her heart.
“You should bill Blue Cross,” he said.
    She grinned. He noticed a single freckle nestled below the strong line of her jaw, as dark as chocolate.
Oh, no,
he thought with horror.
I’m starting to memorize her body.
He averted his head, pretending to look for a waiter.
What should I ask for—a side order of saltpeter?
    Instead he saw their producer approaching. The legendary Gregory Lamont strode with the harried confidence of a man who had been head of a studio at twenty-four, four-time Oscar-winning independent producer by thirty-three, bankrupt by forty-five, and now in the up-ramp of a comeback at fifty. He was wearing a blue blazer over a gray crew neck cashmere sweater too tight for his swelling belly. He completed his out-of-date semicasual Hollywood look of the cocaine eighties with tailored jeans and gaudy cowboy boots—a handcrafted souvenir of his top-grossing picture,
The Yellow Rose.
    â€œHow’s lunch so far?” Gregory asked as he sat down in an empty chair between them at their table for four. He smoothed his eyebrows with the index finger and thumb of his right hand, then pinched his nostrils, and lastly stroked his mustache—a nervous tic that was irritatingly familiar to Brian.
    â€œThanks to our brilliant writer, lunch is excellent,” Veronica said.
    The producer turned from Veronica to Brian, following the flight of the movie star’s compliment to its object. “He
is
brilliant.” Although seated, he buttoned his blazer as if the announcement demanded a more formal dress code. “I have good news,” Gregory said. “Aries is available to have our video-conference call now. We can do it from my office, two blocks crosstown. I’ve arranged a car.”
    â€œOkay. But we haven’t had our entrées.”
    Gregory nodded, took a moment to consider this information, and declared, “And, of course, you want your entrées.”
    â€œI know I’m supposed to keep my figure, Gregory, but even for a light lunch this is the anorexic special.”
    Gregory announced grimly, “I’ll see about them.” He stood and walked confidently toward the swinging service doors.
    â€œHe’s actually going into the kitchen?” Brian wondered aloud.
    â€œMaybe he’ll make our food. Gregory’s a good cook. Used to make