Virtuous(55)

“I totally understand. It’s a safety issue more than anything.”

“Yeah, in a way. Besides,” I say, trying to lighten the mood, “it’s hardly a hardship to fly private. You’ll see what I mean in a couple of minutes.”

Because I fly out of here often, I have a routine with the charter company. They’re waiting for me, and we’re able to drive right up to the waiting Gulfstream. If there’s any benefit to celebrity, it’s moments like this when we’re given the ultimate VIP treatment with the car and our bags dealt with quickly and efficiently.

The pilots introduce themselves to me, shake my hand and tell me they’re big fans.

“We’re expecting a relatively smooth flight today, Mr. Godfrey,” the captain says. “There’ll be some bumps over the Rocky Mountains, as usual, but nothing major.”

“Sounds great, thank you so much.”

“See you in LA,” the first officer says as they return to the cockpit to prepare for departure.

The flight attendant, Jacob, takes our coats and encourages us to get comfortable in the side-by-side leather seats where they want us for takeoff. Afterward, we can move to the plush leather sofa and get really comfortable.

“This whole thing is crazy,” Natalie says when we’re alone. “I bet no one would complain about traveling—ever—if everyone could do it this way. No lines, no waiting, no security.”

“It does have its perks.”

Right after takeoff, Jacob proves my point by emerging from the galley with flutes of champagne and a tray of cheese, crackers, grapes, strawberries and chocolates artfully arranged.

“Are you nervous about this weekend?” Natalie asks as we enjoy the snack and the icy champagne.

I glance at her, not entirely sure what she’s asking. Am I nervous about spending the weekend with her? No, I’m thrilled.

“I mean the Globes,” she says, apparently tuning in to my internal debate.

“Not really. I mean, it would be nice to win and be recognized for the work, but if I don’t, my life will still be great on Monday.”

“That’s a good way to look at it.”

“That’s the only way to look at it.”

“For what it’s worth, I think you should win. Camouflage is your best work to date. No question.”

“Really? You think so?”

“I do. It was brilliant.”

“May I be entirely honest and do you promise never to repeat what I’m about to say?”

Her smile lights up her gorgeous face. “By all means.”

“I agree with you. It’s the best work I’ve ever done, and I really, really want to win that Globe.”

“Ah, now the truth comes out!”

I played a larger-than-life Special Forces officer who sustains devastating injuries in Afghanistan and has to rebuild his life from the ground up. It’s loosely based on a true story. “Making that film was the experience of a lifetime. Spending time at Walter Reed with injured service members, witnessing their struggles to regain their lives, to learn to live without some of the essential elements of who they were before… It was life-changing for all of us.”

“I loved it. Every second of it. I think I saw it five times.”

“Really?” I’m amazed and flattered to know the film I’d poured my heart and soul into for two years had connected with her.

“Really. I could see it a hundred more times and never get enough. It was beautiful. Everyone in it deserves awards, but you… You were just…” She shakes her head. “Transcendent.”

It is, without a doubt, the single best compliment I’ve received in a career filled with unreasonable adulation, and I’m touched to my very core. “Thank you,” I say gruffly. “Means a lot to me coming from you.”

“You must hear it all the time.”

I shrug that off. “It’s just words coming from others. The people close to me are the ones who matter. My parents had a lot to say about that film, too, and I won’t soon forget any of it.”

“They must be so proud,” she says with a note of wistfulness I can’t help but hear.

“I hope they are. Their voices are always in my head, that’s for sure. I consult with my dad on every project before I agree to do it. He’s my touchstone.”

“I’m very excited to meet them.”