I'm Glad About You(96)

“It’s not a matter of taking turns, Van,” Roger informed her with his professional kindness. “We’re really trying to get to some basic communication skills. That’s all we’re trying to do.” Kyle continued to breathe. The wounded calm was easing, but more slowly than he had feared it would. He realized that he might be able to open his eyes without entirely losing whatever it was that was standing there with him.

“I’m feeling sad,” Kyle said. “I feel very sad.”

He opened his eyes. Roger’s tiny office seemed to be glowing. He realized that this was just a trick of the light: The walls were paneled in a lovely blond wood; it was 5:30; the sun was going down, and light was flowing through the venetian blinds on one side of the room and bouncing off a large, simple mirror on the other. The dust motes hovered, reverential. Van, in her ever-white dress, was caught in a halo of light. The news that Kyle was sad seemed to have completely unmoored her. The silence extended between them in the golden room.

“I hear that you are sad, Kyle,” she admitted, finally. Her own disappointment entered the room and sat down with them. “I am sad too.”

“I hear that you’re sad, Van,” Kyle told her. “And I feel sorry that I have made you sad.”

She nodded. Roger for once kept his mouth shut. The light floated over them like a blessing. Then she sighed.

“Okay, so we’re both sad,” Van announced, with a sudden impatience. “So what? I mean, isn’t that the point, that we’re both sad and why should we stay married if we’re both so f*cking sad?”

Roger thought about this, and answered for both of them. “One step at a time, Van,” he said. “One step at a time.”





twenty-four





LAST STOP CAME and then it went. All the wrangling with the studio had taken its toll; the air of trouble had settled on the movie itself, and the critics generally categorized the whole enterprise as an entertaining mess which didn’t live up to the fun of its premise. Lars was lightly rebuked for making yet another cynical action movie. On its opening weekend the movie cleared forty-two million domestically and a hundred and twelve worldwide, which was considered a disappointment for the studio and an embarrassment for Gordon.

And then an article appeared on an entertainment website, a scandalous exposé of the real reason that the promise of Last Stop had floundered and then fallen into chaos. The fault, apparently, lay with Alison Moore.

It was a good old-fashioned character assassination. According to the blogger—who Alison had never heard of—the reviews missed the truth of the matter, which was that Alison’s lack of talent and experience was actually what sank the film. Alison was an arrogant, narcissistic flirt who thought that everyone was in love with her. After failing publicly to seduce the movie’s star, Colin Cudahy—pictured with his wife and their newborn baby—she tried to seduce every one of the young bucks playing the black-op sidekicks. One of those young bucks was anonymously quoted as saying, “It was embarrassing! She was in a relationship with Lars—who got her the job—and then she was all over the rest of us. We didn’t know what she thought she was doing.” Someone in hair and makeup reported that Alison was completely unprofessional, always showing up late and eating up hours in the makeup trailer, and that it was impossible to please her with regard to her costumes. “She totally thought the movie was about her,” this person whispered. “We were all like—sorry, isn’t this your first film?” Of course the wig incident was recounted, and new, more damning stories were told. One nameless source described how Alison endlessly tried to suck up attention from the press. “Anytime there were reporters around, you could lay money that she would be falling all over them,” this person claimed. “Colin was really nice about it. This was a big picture for him, he’s a producer on it! And actually they did not want to hire her but he said no, she’s the one. But I don’t think he’ll ever work with her again.” An unnamed studio executive delivered the coup de grace. “Her performance was just bad. Why do you think they did so many recuts? The whole editing process turned into a hash.”

And so a sloppy piece of so-called journalism sprinkled with the unholy perfume of insider gossip was blasted onto the internet, where it was picked up and re-reported and retweeted tens and hundreds and thousands of times.

Alison first heard about the story from Ryan. “We need to talk about a publicity thing that’s come up,” he said.

“What kind of publicity thing?” Alison asked. She assumed it was some red carpet event, a gala or a screening, some party that they wanted to sprinkle with young celebs.

“It’s actually this thing that’s just come up on the internet. Nothing serious, but I don’t want you hearing about it the wrong way.”

“A thing?”

“A story. It’s just a lot of very negative stuff about Last Stop. You need to be prepared, there’s going to be some noise coming at you.”

“The movie’s been out for three weeks, isn’t that ancient history?”

“Absolutely, that is the position to take. The whole thing is stupid, and no one’s even heard of the reporter, who is clearly some sort of complete hack. And it’s on a website no one’s ever heard of. It will come and go, you really have to just ignore it.”