Judith McNaught (9 page)

Zack responded to that sentimental crap by lifting his brows and saying absolutely nothing; Levine loved

him like his own bank account, and he was disappointed because Zack wouldn't agree to do
Pretty

Woman.
Levine didn't try to force the issue, however. The last time he'd done that, Zack had walked out

of his office and made a movie for Paramount and another one for Universal.

"You were never a starry-eyed teenager," he said instead. "You were tough and realistic, but you weren't a total skeptic either. Ever since you married Rachel, you've been changing." He saw the flare of annoyance in Zack's face and hastily said, "Okay, enough sentimentality. Let's talk business. When do you want to start shooting
Destiny,
and who do you have in mind for the main roles?"

"I'll play the husband, and I'd like Diana Copeland for the wife if she's available. Rachel would be excellent for the mistress. Emily McDaniels for the daughter."

Levine's brows shot up. "Rachel's going to have one of her raging tantrums over getting the lesser female role."

"I'll deal with Rachel," Zack said. Rachel and Levine detested each other, although neither of them ever gave a reason. Zack suspected they'd had an affair years ago that ended badly.

"If you haven't already made up your mind about the part of the drifter," Levine continued after a hesitant pause, "I have a favor to ask. Would you consider Tony Austin for it?"

"Not a chance," Zack said flatly. Austin's addictions to booze and drugs were as legendary as his other vices, and he was totally unreliable. His last accidental overdose at the beginning of a picture he was

making for Empire had landed him in a rehab center for six months, and another actor had to fill his role.

"Tony wants to go to work and prove himself,"

Levine continued patiently. "His doctors assure me he's

kicked his habits and he's a new man. I'm inclined to believe them this time."

Zack shrugged. "What's different about this time?"

"Because this time when they rushed him into Cedars-Sinai, he was DOA. They brought him back, but

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the experience has finally scared the shit out of him and he's ready to grow up and get to work. I'd like to give him that chance, a new start." Levine's voice took on a pious note. "It's the only decent thing to do,

Zack. We're all on this earth together. We have to take care of each other, look out for each other. We have to help Tony get work because he's broke and because—"

"And because he owes you a chunk of money for that picture he never finished," Zack speculated flatly.

"Well, yes, he is into us for a sizable amount of money for that picture," Levine reluctantly admitted.

"He

came to us though and asked to work off his debt so that he could prove himself. Since you seem to be invulnerable to an emotional appeal, consider the practical reasons to use him: Despite all his bad publicity, the public still adores him. He's their bad, misguided, beautiful boy, the man every woman wants to comfort."

Zack hesitated. If Austin was really a reformed man, he was perfect for the role. At thirty-three, his youthful, blond good looks had been marred by dissipation, which somehow only made him more appealing to women from twelve to ninety. Austin's name on a marquee was a guarantee of fabulous box office sales. So was Zack's; as a combination, they stood a chance of breaking some records. Since Zack intended to have a sizable piece of the profits as part of his price for making
Destiny,
that had a strong bearing on his decision. So did the fact that even when Austin was drunk he was a better actor than most, and he
was
perfect for the part. On the other hand, using Austin in this film would be a favor

to Empire, and Zack intended to exact concessions from Empire in return. For that reason, he hid his enthusiasm for the idea and said only, "I'll let him read for the part, but I'm not crazy about being a baby-sitter for a junkie, reformed or otherwise. I'll have Dan Moyes call you in the morning," he added, referring to his agent as he arose to leave, "and the two of you can start working out the contractual details."

"This picture's going to cost a ransom to make, with all the locations it calls for," Irwin reminded him, already dreading the price Zack was bound to ask for starring in it and directing it, not to mention the favors he was likely to extract for using Austin in the film. Carefully hiding his enthusiasm for the project, he stood up and shook hands with Zack. "I'm only going along with this deal because you want to do it so badly. I'm personally going to be praying on my knees that it at least earns back what it costs to make."

Zack suppressed a knowing smile. The opening volley of contractual negotiations had just taken place

over a handshake.

Diana Copeland turned down the role of Zack's wife because she had a prior commitment, so Zack gave the role to Rachel, who'd been his second choice. A few weeks later, Diana's plans changed, but by

then, Zack had a moral, and legal, obligation to let Rachel keep the better role. To Zack's surprise, Diana

asked for the lesser part of his former mistress instead. Emily McDaniels eagerly accepted the part of the

teenage daughter and Tony Austin was given the part of the drifter. The minor roles were filled without difficulty, and Zack's favorite, hand-picked film crew was reunited as a team again to work on another of his films.

A month after shooting started on
Destiny,
the word was out that although the filming was plagued with accidents and delays, the rushes—the portions of the film that were sent to the lab for processing each day—were fantastic. The Hollywood gossip mill began to churn out premature predictions of Academy

Award nominations.

Arustling in the grass yanked Zack from his reverie and he looked over his shoulder to see Tommy Newton walking toward him in the deepening twilight. "The crew is on dinner break and everything's

ready in the stable," he said.

Zack rolled to his feet. "Fine. I'll check it out." He'd already done that earlier today, but he didn't believe in leaving anything to chance, and besides, it gave him an excuse to avoid socializing with the others for a

while longer. "We're not going to have a rehearsal tonight," he added. "We'll try for a take right from the

beginning."

Tommy nodded. "I'll spread the word."

Inside the stable, Zack studied the setting for the last major scene. In the past months the story had come to life in front of the cameras, more vibrant and suspenseful than even he had believed it could be—a tale of a woman caught between her love for her daughter and the preoccupied tycoon she'd married and her passionate involvement with a handsome drifter, whose need for her had become a dangerous obsession. Zack had played the part of the seemingly neglectful husband, a man whose financial empire was collapsing and who considers making a deal with drug runners rather than see his wife and daughter deprived of their lifestyle. Emily McDaniels was the teenage daughter who cared nothing for the luxuries her parents provided and who only wanted more of their interest and attention.

The plot was strong, but what really distinguished the story was the depth and richness of the character portrayals, the insight into human nature and needs, its weaknesses and strengths. There were no "bad guys" in
Destiny;
each character was portrayed in a way that Zack knew would have a powerful

emotional effect on movie audiences.

Most of the scenes had been shot out of sequence as was the norm, but because of logistics, the last two scenes about to be filmed were actually the last two scenes of the movie itself. In the one they were about

to shoot, Rachel meets her lover in the stable, where several of their past trysts have occurred. Forced to see him "just once more" because he has threatened to reveal their affair to her husband and daughter if she doesn't, Rachel hides a gun in the stable, which she intends to use to frighten him away. When he tries

to force her to have sex with him, she threatens him with the gun, and, in the struggle that follows, they're

both wounded. The scene was meant to be violently sexual and it was Zack's job as the director to make sure it was
very
sexy and
very
violent.

Looking around, he walked slowly down the corridor that divided the dimly lit stable in half lengthwise.

Everything was exactly as he wanted it: The horses were in their stalls along the wall on his left, their noses poked inquiringly over half-doors as he strolled past. Bridles and riding crops hung on pegs on the

opposite wall; saddles were on wooden racks; paraphernalia for grooming horses and cleaning tack was

in its proper place on a table against the far wall outside the tack room.

The real focus of the scene, however, was on that table at the end of the corridor, beside some bales of hay, where the two protagonists would have their final struggle. The bales were in place, and the gun that

would be used in the scene was lying on the table, hidden among the liniment bottles and grooming brushes. In the rafters above, a second camera was already aimed at the double doors to catch Emily when she rode into the stable after hearing the gunshot, and all the lights were positioned for maximum

effect when turned on.

With his knee, Zack nudged the table an inch to the left, then he shifted a couple of bottles on it and moved the butt of the gun so that a glimpse of it would be in view of the camera, but he did it more out of

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restlessness than necessity. Sam Hudgins, the director of photography, and Linda Tompkins, the set dresser, had already done their usual impeccable job of translating Zack's ideas for a scene into an actual set that was perfectly arranged and complete in every detail, creating exactly the effect Zack envisioned.

Suddenly anxious to get started and get the ordeal over with, Zack turned and headed for the door, his footsteps echoing hollow on the gleaming floor tiles.

Huge floodlights illuminated the side yard where the crew was helping themselves from a buffet and eating at picnic tables or sitting on the grass. Tommy spotted Zack as soon as he walked into the lit area, and at Zack's nod, he called out, "All right everybody, ten more minutes, then we get started."

There was a flurry of movement as crew members stood up and headed toward the stable or went to the buffet table to grab another cold drink. In an effort to trim unnecessary expense from the swollen budget, Zack had kept only the essential crew here and sent everyone else back to the West Coast, including a second and third assistant director and several production assistants. Even without the extra help, Tommy Newton was managing to handle everything with little loss of efficiency.

Zack watched him send his only production assistant over to Austin's trailer, and a moment later, he saw Austin and Rachel both emerge from it, followed by their hairdressers and a makeup artist. Austin looked uneasy and slightly ill; Zack hoped his ribs were killing him. Rachel, on the other hand, walked right past

the crew and Zack with her head proudly high—a queen who was accountable to no one. Emily McDaniels was pacing back and forth in front of her real-life father, practicing her lines with him. With her Shirley Temple dimples, she was sixteen years old and still looked little more than eleven. She glanced up just as Rachel walked past her, and her face froze with dislike, then she jerked her gaze back to her father and continued practicing her lines.

Since Emily had originally liked Rachel very well, Zack

attributed the child's sudden change in attitude to her loyalty to him, and he was momentarily touched by that. He was reaching for a roast beef sandwich from the buffet when Diana Copeland's soft, sympathetic voice startled him. "Zack?"

He turned, his brows drawing together in surprise.

"What are you doing out here tonight? I thought you were leaving for L.A. this morning."

Clad in white shorts and a red halter top with her auburn hair in a French braid, she looked beautiful and

uneasy. "I intended to, but when I heard about what happened last night at the hotel, I decided to stick around today and be on hand tonight."

"Why?" Zack asked bluntly.

"Two reasons," Diana said, trying desperately to make him understand that she was sincere. "One reason is to give you some moral support if you need it."

"I don't," Zack said politely. "What's the other reason?"

Diana looked at him, at the proud chiseled features, the striking amber eyes turning cool beneath thick black lashes, and she realized she'd made it sound as if she pitied him. Unnerved by his unwavering stare and prolonged silence, she finally burst out, "Look, I don't know how to say this … but I—I think Rachel is a fool. And if I can do anything to help, please let me. And, Zack," she finished with great feeling,

"I—I'd work with you anytime, any place, in any role. I just wanted you to know that, too."

She watched as his unfathomable expression turned to grim amusement and she belatedly realized she'd now made it sound as if ambition was behind her avowals of sympathy.

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"Thank you, Diana," he replied with such grave courtesy that she felt even more foolish. "Have your agent call me in a few months when I'm casting for another picture."

She watched him walk away, his strides long and sure, dark blue polo shirt emphasizing wide shoulders,

khaki trousers clinging to narrow hips
…
a lithe, powerful body of hard sinew and rippling muscle, but

with a lion's grace … a lion's eyes
…
a lion's aloof pride. The only thing that spoiled the analogy was his

beautiful, thick hair, Diana thought wistfully. It was so dark it was nearly black. Hushed with

embarrassment and defeat, she slumped against the tree behind her and looked at Tommy who'd been standing beside Zack during most of her speech. "I really blew it, didn't I, Tommy?"