The Director's Cut (10 page)

“You mean, you
bribed
him?” I am shocked.

James smiles a little and shakes his head. “No
, Issy, I didn’t bribe him. I don’t go in for illegal acts,” he adds.

“Then what?”

“I negotiated a story swap,” he says. “I promised him an exclusive interview.”

An interview? James
told me didn’t do interviews anymore.

“I thought you hated interviews?”

His mouth sets in a grim line.

“They’re not my favourite
thing.”

“And that’s all it took?” I ask slowly. “An interview with you? To make him drop a story about us?”
This seems very unlikely.

What has James promised?

James leans forward and kisses my nose.

“
Shhh,” he says, “I don’t want you overthinking this. I would walk over hot coals, Issy, to protect you. In comparison, an interview is easy.”

He gives me a half
-smile at this, and I don’t know whether to be mad at him.

“
Did you find out anything more, about where the leak came from?” I ask.

James eyes darken.

“No,” he says shortly. “Not really. Although we can presume it was the same mystery person who made the first leak.”

“
Why do you think that?”

“The leak
was made using the same phone – the same number. The reporter was good enough to share that with me. Newspapers track things like that,” he adds.

“Then can’t the reporter give you the phone number?”

James shakes his head resolutely. “Journalists have gone to prison rather than give up their sources, Issy,” he says grimly. “I know better than to even ask.”

I am quiet for a moment, turning this around in my mind.

“Do you have any more ideas who it might be?” I say eventually.

“I have a few ideas,” says James.

I am thinking through the crew. Aside from Natalie, Callum, and I, we have Will on security and around twenty crew members. Natalie’s entourage was mostly left in London, with the exception of a hair and make-up expert and her downtrodden personal assistant.

“Would someone get money?” I ask
. “From leaking information?”

“Only if a story runs,” says James, “but yes. They would stand to make tens of thousands, if they brokered the right deal.”

“Do your press people think it’s someone who knows that?” I ask. “Is it someone who knows how to make deals with the press?”

“I don’t have that information yet,” says James, but he’s looking at me ad
miringly. “I’m expecting a full report tomorrow.”

“What do we do in the
meantime?”

James’
s mouth sets in a hard line.

“We wait and hope whoever’s doing this messes up.”

By the time we arrive
back at the car, I can hardly believe what a carefree couple we were only hours ago.

As he opens the door to let me in,
James is brooding and silent, clearly turning over in his head how best to track down the press informant.

I’m still wondering what to make of it all. I’m new to this, so I don’t really know if this is commonplace. But something about James’s reaction suggests
this is serious.

O
nce he sees me safely belted, James pops the gear and races out onto the Barcelona roads.

Whoa. This is fast
. Something about James’s driving tells me more about his mood, than his silence.

I throw a nervous glance his way, and he sighs and slows fractionally.

Now that I’m not watching the Spanish streets hurl past at quite the same pace, I have more space to reflect.

I let myself tussle over the mystery of the leak.

Who might it be?

My first thought would always be Natalie.
Since she has an addiction to press coverage. But since James says it’s the same person making the leak, it couldn’t possibly be her.

I flick my mind back to our conversation outside the chalet. There’s no way she could have phoned through a leak to the press without me seeing it.

My thoughts turn to Natalie’s personal assistant. Poor, downtrodden Carol. Could she be leaking information?

Carol isn’t as self
-obsessed as Natalie. Maybe she drew a different deduction from the truck which filled my chalet with flowers.

I decide it’s an unfair suspicion. I’m only considering Carol because she’s associated with Natalie. I have no more reason to suspect her than anyone else in the crew.

I let out a little huff of air, frustrated with the whole situation.

James glances to me for a second, and then turns back to the road. I resume my thinking.

How horrible, to be betrayed by someone and not know who. It must be worse for James. He’s worked with this crew before, and he obviously trusts them. It would be terrible if one of them has started leaking information.

Then again, there is a lot of money at stake. Maybe the temptation of thousands of pounds is too much, even for an honest person to bear.

James turns to me again.

“Are you nervous about the actor’s meeting?”

“I was,” I admit, “but it seems as though there might be bigger things to worry about.”

James returns his eyes to the road.

“Once we’ve found out who the leak is, we’ll have nothing to worry about,” he says. His tone is unreadable.

“In any case,” he adds. “I have some news about the
movie.”

Oh?

“I was hoping to be able to tell you in a more relaxed fashion,” he says, his face serious. “But the latest leak has rather put paid to that.”

“It’s ok
, James,” I say, touching his forearm. “Whatever I need to know, just tell me.”

My heart has started to beat slightly faster. I know the scheduled meeting
tonight will involve his Berkeley Method. But I don’t know the details. Is he about to tell me it will be worse than I feared?

“I told you I would
reveal who the male lead is at the meeting,” he continues. “But I may as well tell you now.”

My heart slows almost instantly.

The mystery male lead. I had all but forgotten about it.

“Who is it?” I’m not as excited as I usually would be, given the circumstances. But I’m still keen to know.

“Until about a week ago, I was still seriously considering Michael Bass,” he says slowly.

Michael Bass. Gorgeous. Screen God.
Am I glad it’s not him? It’s hard to know.

“But on measure,” continues James, “I think that would create too many problems with Natalie.”

The other slated male leaps to mind. It must be Shane Peters then. I’ve seen Shane in a couple of movies. He’s known as a bit of a bad boy.

“So you’ve cast Shane?” I conclude.

“No,” says James, still concentrating on the road. He lands his green eyes on mine. “I’ve decided against Shane as well.”

“Who then?” I ask. “Someone unknown?”

“In a manner of speaking.” He takes a deep breath. “It’s me,” he says. “I’ll be playing the male lead.”

“You?”

James plans to act in his own movie?

I have to admit, it’s less of a surprise than I might have imagined.

I think on some subconscious level, I must have suspected this would happen.

The question is
, how do I feel about it?

“That sounds like a challenge,” I say carefully.
Because I honestly don’t quite know how to take this.

“Yes,” answers James shortly. “But you understand why it’s necessary.” He says it like it’s not a question.

“I do?”

James smiles. “I could hardly watch another man kiss you and retain a professional job to my directing.”

I smile at this.

“Oh James. You can’t possibly be suggesting changing your whole movie because you’d be jealous of a screen kiss.”

“I’m not,” he says quickly. “Well,” he revises, “
if I’m totally honest, that was a small part of the decision. But not all of it,” he adds hastily, his eyes on mine again.

Then he faces forward, and his face sets, as though what he plans to say is difficult for him. I wait for a moment, giving him space to speak.

“I started out in acting,” he says, “when I lived in Hong Kong. A long time ago.”

I say nothing, letting him get the words out.

“I went into direction because it gave me more control,” he continues. “And after I developed my method…” he pauses for a moment, “I realised I wasn’t ready to give that level of honesty to my work. So I stayed out of acting.”

“And now?” I ask quietly.

“Now I’m ready,” he says. His voice sounds determined. “Things have changed. I think I can be more open.” His eyes seek out mine. “You’re a big part of the reason.”

His words bring a surge of joy.
I’m so proud that I’ve helped him become ready to open up.

But
the happy feelings are quickly replaced by a strong jet of fear.

Does this mean
I’ll be expected to open up too?

I’d pushed the idea of his acting method to the back of my mind. If I’m honest, I’d lied to myself, pretending it wouldn’t be the confessional I feared.

Now he’s telling me, it would be exactly that.

James is
prepared to give more. To tell more. Using his method.

Am I
willing to do the same?

“What’s wrong
, Issy?” he asks.

“Nothing… I.”

I realise, suddenly, what he’s giving me. And a few happy feelings spill over. A little.

“I’m touched,” I say, “that you feel you can be more open.
Because of me. I didn’t know I’d had that effect on you.”

“I hope you never know the effect you have on me,” he says. “You might realise that you
could take full advantage.”

He’s smiling now, and the moment to voice my fears has passed.

“Are you ok with this?” he says. “Could you act alongside me?”

“Do I have a choice?” I keep my tone light, to deflect attention from how I’m truly feeling. But James seems to pick up on my uncertainty.

“Yes. I could still cast Shane. He’s already told me he’d come at a moment’s notice for one of my movies.”

I don’t want that, I realise. I don’t want to be kissing another man in front of James.
Even a screen kiss.

But do I want to act with James. A memory of the first audition is burned on my brain. Acting with him. It was so… intense.

“Don’t cast Shane,” I hear myself saying. “I want you.”

“Interesting choice of phrase.”

“It’s true.”

“I need you to think about it carefully. I can’t change things once it’s all set. For one thing, it would look suspicious.”

“Yes,” I say determinedly. “I do want that. I want to find out more about you. Every last bit of you.”

But do I want you to find out about me?

Lost in thought, I hardly notice when we pull up at the hotel.

And despite my troubled mood, I am at least able to acknowledge that James has once again picked a fabulous spot.

The hotel is on one of Barcelona’s incredible plaza-style squares. It’s an enormous old building, built in the neo-classical style, with a grand façade and intricate stonework.

“Wow,” I say, as we slow to enter the underground car
park of the hotel. “This looks amazing.”

James blinks and turns to look at me. Clearly
, his mind was elsewhere.

Poor James.
First the stalker, now this press leak.

“I’m glad you like it,” he says. But his voice sounds distracted. I feel my stomach tighten. Is this going to be a real problem? We’ve only just dealt with a dangerous stalker. In comparison, surely a newspaper leak couldn’t be so bad? But something about James’s demeanour warns me that he’s taking this very seriously.

I sigh as the car enters the car park.

It’s like everything else in life
, Issy
, I tell myself, drenching up a familiar motto, which I often use in times of trouble.
One foot in front of the other.
Just keep going forward
.

Chapter 11

All the actors are assembled in one of the hotel conference rooms, which has been temporarily convened for rehearsal purposes.

After we got back, James and I just about had time to shower and change in our separate rooms before making it down to the scheduled meet
ing.