Impossibly Tongue-Tied (11 page)

Nathan had tried,
he really had
, to keep things just friendly with her, too. But how do you brush aside the fawning attentions of the victor of
FHM
's “I'm Made If I've Laid…” online contest three years straight?

How do you shake off the urge to pull her close to you, after she's brushed up against you time and time again—
on purpose?
Particularly when you know what that purpose
is
…and you want it badly, too?

How do you avoid a boner when you're spending hour-after-hour, day-after-day (
for two weeks straight already!
) trading heart-wrenching dialogue, staring deep into those limpid, lust-laden eyes, and kissing that tantalizingly moist mouth…

…in front of an all-seeing camera, while an all-knowing crew hovers around, just waiting for the inevitable:
your fall from grace
.

It had finally happened today, just before their lunch break on the set.

All morning long, Kat had been arguing with Hugo over his direction of a scene she claimed was the one nearest and dearest to her heart. In fact, she insisted tearfully, it was
the very scene
that had sold her on the script in the first place, because in it, she was supposed to be yearning—forlornly,
longingly
—for the unattainable:
Nathan.

That is, Nathan's character, Artemus.

To help her “reach transcendence” (as she put it), she asked for Hugo's approval to do the scene in the nude. (This request was a first for any A-list actress, and didn't Hugo just know it!)

Certainly, Kat insisted, if that were the case, it would just
have
to take place on a closed set. And of course, Nathan, even though he wasn't supposed to be in the scene, should be on hand—“for inspiration” was how Kat put it.

“
Hmmm
…Yeah, okay, Kat, but you realize that I had planned on shooting it as a close-up, right?” asked Hugo, who was now at the end of his rope. He certainly didn't need
this
shit, and on his birthday, of all days! Nope, what he needed was a very dry Grey Goose martini, along with one of Ago's mouthwatering burratas, a hunk of barely charred rib eye…and afterward, to hit the sack with Lucinda, some Liquid Silk, and that Wavy G dildo she'd grown fond of since their little getaway in Cabo…

…And to forget about this on-the-set diva and her newest obsession.

Hugo knew that Kat's demand to close the set for this little indulgence of hers was just one more way in which she could be a pain in his ass. Why should everyone except Hugo, his cameraman, and her makeup and hair slaves be told to take a coffee break while she put on a private show for her new boyfriend? What was this, some tawdry back alley Hollyporn production over in Chatsworth?
Come on
already!

“That's not the point.” Kat pouted. “I need all my emotional facets in primo form, and Nathan is my—well, he's my
muse
. Aren't you, my dearest?” She looked over at the object of her desire with the tenderest of glances.

Having been put on the spot, Nathan turned beet red. Certainly he didn't want this laid at
his
feet, no sirree. But there it sat, like a turd on the tips of his brand-new suede Bruno Magli loafers.

“Really, Hugo. If it will help—well, I…I don't mind.”

Yeah
, thought Hugo,
I'll just bet you don't.

Fuck it. They were already behind schedule by two days, due to Kat's insistence that the first thing they shoot be the script's three love scenes—
ad nauseam
, as it turned out, since she found something to complain about after each take. He had indulged her in this, but enough was enough already! For sure, this was one Hugo Schmitt production that would
never
garner an Academy nomination. However, it was a slam-dunk for an
Adult Video News
award for, say, “Best All-Sex Release.” Or, more likely, “Best Sex Comedy.”

Well, now at least Archie Hardaway would have that nude scene of Kat he coveted, and without having to lay out a plug nickel of bonus money for her to do it, either!

Hugo didn't know why, but that pissed him off. And he didn't like being pissed off on his birthday, considering that it didn't look as if Kat's crap would end anytime soon. At least, not until she finally got her way…

…With Nathan.

So why not?

Resigned to all their fates, he turned to the object of his star's affection. “Look, Nathan, can I talk to you for a moment? Just the two of us.”

Puzzled, Nathan nodded and followed Hugo off the set, into the postproduction office. He didn't know why, but he
was uncomfortable with Hugo's silence and the way in which the director was sizing him up.

Finally, Hugo came out with it. “You know, Nathan, Kat is…
quite fond
of you.”

No shit
, thought Nathan, but he kept silent to hear where Hugo was going with this.

“I'll be honest with you: I've never asked an actor this before. Heaven knows it's none of my business, but if you level with me, it might go a long way to—well, in saving this production. And, for that matter, my ass.”

A crease of concern crossed Nathan's noble brow as the thought of his first feature film going up in smoke entered his mind. At this point, he was willing to do anything to keep from fucking this up.
Anything
.

“Sure, ask away.”

“Are you boffing her?”

Nathan turned white. “No! Of—of course not!”

Hugo paused, then stared him right in the eye as he asked, “Well,
would you like to?
”

The kaleidoscope of emotions that crossed Nathan's face said it all:

Hell, yeah, I'd
love
to jump her bones!

But she'll eat me up alive—and don't I know it!

Not to mention that I'd hate myself in the morning for doing it…

But if you, Hugo Schmitt, are giving me permission to go for it—and, of course, it will save all our asses…

Then shouldn't I be able to live with this decision—for the sake of our art, I mean?

Of course I should…Damn right, I should…

THEN HELL, BRING IT ON!

…As long as it stays our little secret.

Right, thought Hugo, sure, our little secret. Yours, mine, and Kat's…not to mention the hundred or so others in Hugo's tight-knit merry crew.

“Look, guy, no harm, no foul.” Hugo put his hand on Nathan's shoulder for moral support. “Hey, think of it as a little birthday present, from you to me. Or if you prefer, an early one from me to you. We'll break for lunch now, I think. You and Kat can, er, ‘rehearse' in her trailer. We'll be ready to shoot again at, say, one-thirty. Just tell Kat that the scene gets played
as written, as previously discussed, no bullshit.
”

Sure, Nathan understood. All of a sudden he was excited…
and scared
.

In a matter of minutes—more like an hour or so, considering his staying power—
Nathan's life would be changed forever.

And so would his marriage.

Then another thought hit him: “Uh, Hugo, what about Kat? Won't she—be mad that we aren't doing it her way?”

Hugo shot him a look that said it all:
Are you a sucker, or what?

“Trust me, she
is
getting her way. Eventually it was going to happen. At least, this way, I'll get the picture I want, too.”

And you'll get your first piece of A-list ass. So enjoy it, kid.

Despite the guilt, the initial performance anxiety, and an old football injury, Nathan did enjoy it.

Again. And again. And a fourth time, too. In the sack, Katerina McPherson was everything he had fantasized she
would be: innocent yet sultry, playful
and
knowledgeable…and best of all,
insatiable
.

 

That is, he enjoyed it until he got home and hit the shower, where he could curse himself for betraying Nina without being heard.

When Nina awoke the next morning, he had already taken off for the set. But he had also left her a note that read, simply, “I will always love you with all my heart. Nathan.”

After that, her headaches went away.

 

 

The men's room in Ago wasn't the most convenient place to take a meeting, but it was the best that Sam and Hugo could do, considering that Hugo and Lucinda were perpetually in lust these days, and therefore joined at the hip whenever they were together. So whenever this noted regular or that celebrity patron came in to relieve himself of too much great food and good wine, Sam and Hugo's fervid discussion about the shenanigans happening on the set came to an abrupt halt. This was met with more than a few raised eyebrows, but Sam couldn't care less. Between the interruptions, he garnered from Hugo that Nathan had, on that very day, finally succumbed to the onslaught of Katerina's ardent advances.

Not only that, but apparently the kid was quite a cocksman, or at least, from initial indications anyway, he was living up to her ravenous expectations: After their inaugural tryst at lunch, at every subsequent break the two of them had stolen off to Kat's dressing room to continue their lovemaking marathon.
They'd also been the last to leave after the shoot wrapped that evening, and Hugo fully expected a formal complaint from studio security any moment now. Surely the night watchman had quit making his rounds in order to park himself outside Kat's trailer for the duration of his shift, having discovered that their ecstatic moans were the perfect accompaniment to whatever issue of
Hustler
or
Playboy
he had to keep his hands busy.

“How did I know they'd go at it like a couple of horny tomcats?” Hugo whispered frantically, over the grunts and flushes of two Hollywood heavy hitters, who had obviously overindulged themselves on the ziti special. “It makes me wish I hadn't encouraged the kid to—”

“
You encouraged him
! Hell, Hugo, why did you go and do that for? Nathan's got a wife and kid!”

“He does? Shit! I just assumed…he's so young and all…and, to be honest, it's not like he put up much of a fuss…Well it's spilled milk now. Or
something
.”

They both shut up quickly as the door opened again. Sometime later, when a guy they both recognized as a Lakers guard finally did his business and left them alone again (w
ho knew that the dude would need a full five minutes to drain that lizard of his!
) Sam said, “Okay, okay. I guess I'll have to get in both their faces and set the record straight, before this whole situation ruins the project.”

“I'd appreciate that, Sam. I've talked with Kat until I'm blue in the face, and Nathan seems to melt like Jell-O whenever she's around. Of course, who can blame the guy?” He smiled wickedly.

“Well,
you
seem to be able to keep it together. So, I gather things are tout sweet between you and Lucinda, huh?”

“Couldn't be finer. I have O to thank for that.”

“Yeah, I guess I misjudged her to some extent. She is quite a peach.”

“And quite a fluffer.” Hugo sighed his contentment. “I guess I should just call and check in…not that I need a 'refresher' or anything…you know,
strictly
as a buddy. We haven't talked in so long. How about you?”

“Me?” Sam was a bit startled by the question. “I—well, um, to tell you the truth, I talked to her just yesterday, you know, only to say hi. That's all.” He was embarrassed that anyone, even Hugo, knew he was talking to a phone sex operator.

As if Sam Godwin needed to talk to a PSO. Heck, not him!

“See?
See?
What'd I tell you? You know, she's a really sweet gal—”

“Big deal. Lots of women are ‘sweet.' So what?”

“Well, you've got to admit it, phone sex is a lot less of a—I dunno,
hassle
than dating.”

“Thanks, but no thanks. It's still a cheap thrill, and you still have to pay for it. I prefer a warm body,” Sam retorted. “But unfortunately, the one I prefer most already has a permanent bed partner.” Although, from what Hugo was telling him, not for long.

“That's too bad…. Jeez, I never had you figured for ‘the other man' type, you know, wait your turn until some little Malibu matron crooks her finger in your direction so that you'll come running—”

Just then there was a bang on the door. The two of them heard Lucinda hiss, “Hey, I'm concerned about you two! And so is half of Hollywood, so you better get out here and let everyone know that I've got nothing to worry about!”

Hugo's kiss confirmed this to her. However, feeling that he
owed Sam something, Hugo made the decision to call O later that night.

But it would have to be
really, really
late that night. After all, it was his birthday, and Lucinda had promised him a
very
special surprise when they got home…

 

HUGO: Hi, darling. How ya been?

O: Hugo, my man! How's it hanging? (
She gives a sly chuckle
) You know I meant that rhetorically, right?

HUGO: I feel honored that you even asked. Things are…they're wonderful! Really. Lucinda and I couldn't be happier right now.

O: Wow. Awesome. True love makes my heart sing, you know?

HUGO: You said it…(
Sigh
) Wish I could say that was true for our old friend Sam.

O: Sam? Why? What's up with lover boy?

HUGO: That's just it…He's…well, he's got this tendency to choose women who are…well, shall we say, he picks them for
all
the wrong reasons.

O: (
Laughing
) That doesn't surprise me. Then again, I'd say that's true of about ninety percent of all guys. And believe me, women aren't immune to that fate, either.

HUGO: Keep that in mind, the next time he calls. Frankly, I think you two would make a cute couple.

O: Oh? What makes you say that?

HUGO: Just something he said. About how you're the most interesting woman he's met in a long, long time. Coming from him, that's a high compliment. Besides, I have a hunch about you two, and I'm usually right about these kinds of things, so don't write it off.

O: Hugo, if I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to set us up. The next thing I know, you'll be encouraging me to flirt with him, or something.

HUGO: (
Now he was the one laughing uproariously
) O, darling, the last thing I'd ever tell
you
is how to get a man to sit up and take notice of you. You've got that down pat.

O: Let's hope so, hon. Otherwise I'd have to close up shop.

HUGO: No worries there. Gotta run, sweetheart. But remember, if he calls—

O: I know, I know. Keep an open mind. It will be interesting to see if Sam can do the same. Have a good morning, handsome.

 

The following week, in Jake's Sage Oak “Parent Pack” was a small envelope, addressed to both Nathan and Nina. In it was a handwritten invitation, which read:

Finally,
thought Nina.
We're in!

So in, in fact, that on Friday, Mr. Pickering himself was waiting for her when she drove up to collect Jake and Plum so
that he might personally escort her into his inner sanctum that very afternoon.

As with all children whose parents were “taking tea with the headmaster,” Plum and Jake had already been plucked from the curbside cattle call and lovingly relocated to “The Kinder Garden”—a lush, well-appointed, and well-supervised playground, that, as described in the SOA Handbook, was “conducive to enviable hands-on learning experiences, both stimulating and calming, that pique our students' curiosity and seemingly insatiable desire to know ‘why.'”

This wonderland had been strategically placed right outside the two-story atrium window in Mr. Pickering's library, where, each afternoon, the parents attending the afternoon tea could point out, boast about, and coo over their precious progeny.

Because Becca had, on at least a few occasions, actually graced the school with her presence, Plum was no stranger to the after-school protocol of the Kinder Garden. However, Jake was only allowed to step foot into it during the prescribed forty-eight-minute “activity hour,” wedged in between his “Junior Ethicist” and “Stock Market Mini Math” lessons on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and, on Tuesdays and Thursdays, between violin lessons and the “Maid en Español” super-intense language course (which was chock full of easy-to-learn terms deemed helpful for ordering about Latino help staff, such as
“Haga por favor mi desayuno”
—“Please make my breakfast”—and
“Quisiera que usted ahora dibujara mi baño”
—“I'd like you to draw my bath now”) so of course the little boy was thrilled to pieces for this extra time on the Gazebo Play Loft, the faux rock-climbing wall, the Turbo Toob Slide,
and the sandbox filled with authentic sugary white sand, imported from Destin, Florida.

Jake demonstrated this by throwing a bucketful of the sand in the face of Tre Hanover (a.k.a. Lawrence Walter Wrigley Hanover III), to Mrs. Hanover's horror.

And Nina's too, for that matter.

As she ran to the window to motion Jake to stop his rampage, an arm reached out to stop her.

“Don't worry. Time-outs are short in the Kinder Garden. Otherwise the parents would take their kids home immediately, and Pickering wouldn't have time to pump us for gossip. Besides, Tre started it when he stole Jake's dump truck.” This reassurance came from the freckle-faced redheaded woman whom Nina knew only as “Ben's mommy,” from the school's last Earth Day extravaganza and fund-raiser.

At that function, Ben and Jake had played emperor penguins who had been separated from the birds' breeding ground when the ice shelf it nested on had cracked due to global warming. The two boys had been directed to stay “stranded” in the back of the tableau while the other penguins told this sad tale. Instead, Jake and Ben stole the show by acting, however inappropriately, like seals, which got them big laughs and a whopping two thousand dollars in donations for that cause. (“A ham, just like his pa,” proclaimed Nathan proudly between yelling “Encore! Encore!”)

“I'm so relieved it wasn't all Jake's fault.” Nina laughed nervously. “Otherwise I'd feel guilty about being inside while he's being incarcerated.” She made sure to take just a dainty nibble of her German chocolate cake. It wasn't until after she picked up the gooey concoction that she noticed that none of
the other mommies was likewise indulging, but had opted to sip tea instead. Their sacrifices were obviously paying off: not one of them was any less buff than Uma Thurman mid-
Kill Bill II
. And although Nina was a size 4, she felt pudgy next to this pack of Pilates princesses.

As if reading her mind, Ben's mommy stuck her finger in the icing of Nina's cake, put it in her mouth, and gave a blissful sigh.

“Sorry. Just couldn't help myself. Glad
someone
finally broke down after all these months and took a piece.” She wiped her finger on her low-riding Hard Tail yoga pants and stuck out her hand. “We haven't been properly introduced. My name is Casey Cattrall.”

Nina stuttered back, “Nice to meet you. I'm Nina, uh, Harte.”

Of course Nina knew the name Casey Cattrall! To put Ben's mommy's face with it, though, was something she hadn't done before now. Casey was
the
Casey Cattrall, as in wife of Jarred Cattrall, Oscar and Golden Globe winner twice over. As in Casey Cattrall, producer in her own right, of the third-largest grossing box office film of last year, which had been based on a truly inspiring story of female empowerment.

Casey and Jarred were also perennial contenders in
People
magazine's “Hollywood Hottest Couples” list. Their marriage was considered “one of the happiest in tumultuous Tinseltown” by practically every celebrity magazine's standards.

“Hey,” said Casey. “Have you met some of the other people here?” She herded Nina over to Susannah Myers, a very pretty, very skinny brunette with a husky voice and infectious smile, whose husband was an independent producer; and Jill
O'Keefe, a willowy blond who had retired from a highly rated sitcom to be a full-time mom.

“I think it's time to blow this pop stand,” murmured Susannah. “We're taking the kids over to my place, in Brentwood. Tea is okay, but I'd like something with more of a bite to it, like an appletini. Would you and Jake like to join us?”

Nina wouldn't pass it up. Besides, she told the others, Nathan had already left a voice mail that he'd be home late from the set. “He's playing opposite Katerina McPherson,” she said proudly albeit a bit shyly. She didn't want to come off as if she were boasting.

Upon hearing this, the women exchanged glances.

“Kat McPherson, eh?” Casey wrinkled her brow.
No Botox there, thank God.
“Have you visited the set yet?”

“Uh, no,” Nina replied sheepishly. “I didn't know I was allowed to.”

“Don't wait too long,” counseled Casey firmly. “It's
always
a good idea to meet the leading lady. And the sooner the better.”

Seeing the four of them head for the door, Brad Pickering made a beeline for Nina. He was just about to ask her if she had enjoyed his generosity (in the hopes that she would say she had—when she spoke next to Mr. Cahill, that is) when suddenly the sound of little voices chanting, “
We want cake TOO! We want cake TOO!
” was heard emanating from the Kinder Garden. Having noted his mommy's chocolate bounty through the window, Jake had decided it was time that he and the other students lobby Headmaster Pickering to bend one of the cardinal laws at SOA:
no sugar-laden foods for the children.