Exposing Alix (10 page)

A modern wonder in white stucco and steel, the house
flowed in narrow rectangles up and down a sprawling hillside, with expansive
views of the city at every level. A series of connected pools surrounded three sides
of the building, and the gurgle of the moving water filled the quiet night.

Gunther met her at the front door. His short, white-blond
hair was neatly spiked from his head, his round, smooth cheeks cherubic as
always. He wore dark pants and a black silk T-shirt that showed off his
physique, which, despite being in his mid-sixties, rivaled many of the actors
cast through his production company.

“I wondered when you were going to show up,” he grumbled.
“I finally had to call the studio to see if you had arrived.”

Alix ran around the side of the car and let him envelop
her in a hug. “I’m sorry. Ryker kept me…busy.” The warmth of his grumble made
her smile. No one cared about her the way Gunther did. It still felt like a
small miracle every time she saw him, and she wondered where her life might
have taken her had he not insisted she join his film class.

Gunther held her shoulders and stepped back a pace. “What
on earth are you wearing? Don’t tell me Ryker’s already got you prancing around
town in your minidress. That’s a second-date dress, not a first!”

Alix rolled her eyes. “It wasn’t for him,” she said. “I
was trying to blend in. Jeans didn’t seem like the right message.”

“And the message would be…take me, I’m yours?” Gunther
planted his hands on his hips and glared. He had made millions scaring actors,
directors, and agents with that stare, but Alix knew there was nothing behind
it. At least, when applied to her.

“I thought you wanted me to go out more. Weren’t you just
saying that?”

“Not without me,” he snapped. “Not with Ryker Valentine.”

Alix tucked her hair behind her ears and slipped her arm
into the crook of his elbow. “I see you’re feeling very paternal tonight. Shall
we pour you a cup of warm milk and tuck you off to bed?”

He snorted but allowed her to lead him back into the
house. “Make it a gin and tonic, and then we’ll talk. Now, how was your
flight?”

“A bit bumpy. But I survived.”

They walked a step down into a sunken living room. A thick
white shag rug tickled her toes through her sandals. The room was stark, white
and steel, with an enormous black-and-white picture over the mantel of a large
fireplace. The picture was of a man and woman kissing, their faces half hidden
by the woman’s hair, which whipped around them as if stirred by a strong wind.
The man’s hands cupped her jaw. Her shoulders were bare, their edges blurred by
movement.

Alix winced when she saw it. “Haven’t you taken that down
yet?”

“Oh, hush. It’s some of your best work,” Gunther reproved.
He walked over to a wet bar on the other side of the room. “Martini?”

Alix shook her head. “Not unless you want to peel me off
the floor in an hour.”

“You can always stay here, you know.”

“I know. But I’m already checked into the hotel.” And
she’d never felt comfortable here. She didn’t need to say it out loud. He
understood. The opulence made her feel like she was trespassing in someone’s
museum. At least hotels didn’t pretend to be a home.

“I can’t believe you would pick a hotel over me,” Gunther
said.

“It’s the Hotel Bel-Air.” Alix grinned. “How could I turn
down such luxury?”

“You’ll stay here on the weekends, at least.”

Alix inclined her head back toward the picture. “I heard
from them a month or so ago. Apparently they’re expecting.”

Gunther gave a look that acknowledged her blatant attempt to
change the subject, but he did not argue further. “Did you film the
conception?”

She shot him an annoyed look as she slid into a chair that
wasn’t nearly as comfortable as it appeared. “Gunther!”

“I’m just asking,” he said innocently. He looked back to the
door as if expecting someone to follow behind her. “Where’s the puppy?”

“One of the local kids is dog-sitting. This is no place
for a dog. At least, a full-size dog.”

Gunther shook his head. “Can you believe those things they
dress up in sweaters and call dogs these days? Now Rex, he’s a real dog.”

“You just like him because he’s German.”

“Of course. Tell me, what did Ryker think of him?”

“I don’t think Ryker’s a big fan.”

Gunther smirked. “I didn’t think he would be.”

Alix sighed. “I will never understand men and their
practical jokes.”

“It’s a sign of respect, really. But enough chatter. How’s
my movie? Is there any hope?”

Alix dropped her head against the back of the chair. “You
didn’t tell me our leads hated each other.”

“Hate is such a strong word,” he said. “Besides, I didn’t
know it had gotten that bad. At least, I didn’t know until I saw that scene.”
He shuddered. “I still can’t believe Ryker wasted actual film on that. I should
have fired him on the spot. How is he, by the way? It’s been a week or so since
I’ve been on the set. Is he holding up? Do you think you’ll work well
together?”

He handed her a glass of club soda with a slice of lime.
She took a sip and let the bubbles tickle her nose as she considered her words.
“Well,” she said carefully, “it’s early to say. But I am a little concerned
about him.”

“How so?”

“You know how he feels about sex?”

“I have some idea,” Gunther said, a trace of irony in his
voice. “He’s a bit disillusioned, you could say?”

“Hmm. Disillusioned would suggest he had some illusions at
some point. I’m not so sure about that. He’s adamant about sex not being a
romantic endeavor. I can’t help but think that’s influencing the film.”

Gunther poured a healthy measure of gin into a shaker.
“It’s inevitable. I told you he thinks love is a fantasy. He makes no secret of
that.”

“And you still went with him for this film? It’s fairly
important to the story, Gunther.”

“He’s so good otherwise, it seemed worth the risk. I
thought he could contain it. He had such good ideas for the film. No one today
does drama like Ryker. And I thought casting Lena and Jake Redburn together was
sheer genius. When they’re working well together—well, they just pop.
It’s remarkable.”

She stared down at her glass, picturing the scene she’d
viewed earlier that night, and then the dark light in his eyes, afterwards,
when he’d touched her. “There’s certainly some powerful chemistry there, if we
can only channel it in the right direction. But it’s more than the acting. That
scene…” She shuddered. “He shot in low-angle and high-angle and used Jake’s
point of view throughout. It felt dark. Claustrophobic. I didn’t say anything
because Ryker was already upset about it. It wasn’t just the absence of
romance—it was more.” She looked up at Gunther. “Tell me, you know all
the gossip. What am I really dealing with here? Is he a woman-hater? Did he get
dumped at the altar? Have a wife who fooled around on him?”

Gunther sat across from her and set his martini glass down
on a glass-topped coffee table. He pulled the olive from his glass and popped
it in his mouth before taking a healthy slurp. “Is your interest personal or
professional?”

“Professional!” she said, wishing she could somehow douse
the hot blush that immediately covered her cheeks.

“Are you sure?”

Alix did not meet his eyes. “Yes.”

“If you say so.” He eyed her suspiciously. “He eats little
girls like you for dinner, Alix. Just keep that in mind.”

“Gunther, I am
not
a little girl. I know how to
deal with men like Ryker.”

“Alix, you’re not nearly as tough as you think you are.
You’ve had experience with cheap bastards like Reece Fawcett and teenage boys.
You haven’t been with anyone like Ryker.”

Reece was the last guy she’d dated in film school. She’d
thought things between them were going great, and then he’d suddenly stopped
returning her calls. He told her later it was because was tired of dating a
frigid virgin.

The ironic thing was that she was the furthest thing from
either frigid or virginal. Forget that the men had been jerks, every last one
of them, and that she’d been desperate for love. The fact was, she’d had sex
and plenty of it. Driven by a constant hunger for affection, beginning at the
tender age of fifteen she’d tumbled through a series of horrible relationships,
none of which had given her what she’d really needed.

Years of reckless behavior had caught up with her when she
was seventeen. She hadn’t even known she was pregnant until she’d spent days
having cramps, and then started bleeding. With a foster parent who was more
likely to give her the back of a hand as a loving hug, she’d kept it all to
herself. When the bleeding wouldn’t stop, she’d been forced to check into a
hospital. Gunther had been the one person she’d trusted enough to call for
help.

And right then and there, she’d made a commitment: no more
sex without love.

When Gunther arrived to take her home with him, she told him
about her vow, perhaps seeking absolution, or perhaps simply needing to talk to
someone about how stupid she’d been, and how determined she was not to make the
same mistake again. He’d taken in her flurry of words with a gentle, loving
nod, making no attempt to question her youthful resolve.

Now, the whole thing seemed like such a joke. No sex
without love? She might as well say no sex, period.

“I’m here to work on a movie, Gunther, not get involved.
You know that better than anyone. So tell me the scoop. What’s his story?”

Gunther shrugged. “I wish I knew. There is no wife that
I’ve ever heard about. No engagement either. In fact, I’m not sure I’ve ever
seen him with the same woman more than a few nights in a row. As far as I know,
he’s a confirmed bachelor, but that’s hardly unusual around here.”

Alix leaned back and sighed. “Perhaps he was born without
a heart.”

“He’s estranged from his family. That may have something
to do with it. His mother was unmarried when he was born, and there are always
plenty of rumors swirling around about who his father might be. He grew up in
South Central and moved out of the house when he was a teenager.” Gunther
sipped his drink. “Who knows. Whatever the reason, you’ll have to find some way
around it.”

“Great.” She stared at her hands. “I’ve got actors who
hate each other and a director without a heart.”

Gunther smiled. “If anyone can turn this movie around,
it’s you.”

“I’m not sure why you think that. I haven’t worked on a
movie for years, and it’s not as if I was ever a genius when it came to film.
Frankly, I think you may have overestimated my abilities.” She meant to say it
wryly, but the words that emerged held a hint of panic.

Gunther, always attuned to her real feelings, turned
sharply toward her. “What’s this nonsense? Did Ryker say something like that?”

She shook her head, regretting the attempt at a joke.
“It’s just…forget it. I’m just tired.”

She had known from the start that Ryker didn’t want her on
the set and didn’t believe she had anything to offer to the film. But tonight
she’d heard first-hand just how cynical he was. The more she thought about it,
the more depressed she became. In the clip she’d seen, Lena and Jake looked
worse together than anything Ryker had directed in the past. And now that she
knew how intractable Ryker was, her task seemed almost insurmountable.

But she could hardly say that to Gunther—the very
person who had insisted she be there.

His voice softened. “Alix, this is Gunther. Tell me what’s
going on.”

She closed her eyes and ran her fingers through her hair.
“It’s going to be an uphill climb. You know that, right? I don’t want any
expectations that I can pull off some kind of miracle. I’m just supposed to
film the romance, Gunther. I don’t know how to make it.”

“Nonsense. You did exactly that a hundred times over when
we worked together.”

“No, I didn’t. I took actors and put them in bed together.
I added some pretty lighting and a woman’s perspective, and you’d think I
reinvented the wheel. This is different. There’s real emotion at play here.”

“You understand emotion,” Gunther said softly. “You
understand what it means to be hurt. I’m not sure Ryker does.”

She grimaced. “Great. So I’m supposed to be the emotional
conduit for the entire movie? Thanks. That makes me feel much better.”

He chuckled. “All right,
liebling
, perhaps we
should change the subject. How’s the book coming?”

She wadded her napkin and threw it at him.

“Not a better subject?”

She paused and studied the bubbles rising in her glass.
“Lately I just feel…” She sought for the right word. “I feel stuck. I don’t
know how I’m going to turn around your movie when I can’t even get my own work
right.”

“I thought you were almost done. One or two more couples,
you said.”

She stood and paced to a wide bank of windows that looked
out over flat pools of water sparkling with moonlight. “No. You were right.
It’s more than that. The truth is, I don’t know how to finish it. Something’s
missing, and I can’t figure out what. I keep taking more pictures, and they’re
all wrong.”

“Sometimes you just have to pull the plug,” Gunther said.
“Know when to quit.”

“No,” she snapped. “I’m not quitting. I’m going to figure
it out. I just need time.”

He held up his hands. “Okay, okay. At least give yourself
a break. Forget about the book and think about
Salva’s Revenge
.
I’m
betting one hundred thousand dollars and one month that you can fix it. I have
faith in you, my dear, even if you don’t.”

“Thanks.” Alix drained her glass and gazed back out the
window. “Thanks a million.”

By the time Alix arrived at the
studio the next morning, Ryker was already there, peering through a viewfinder
from various positions around the set and mumbling to himself. She tried to
ignore the leap of her pulse when she saw him, taut backside outlined by a snug
pair of tan chinos, dark hair reflecting the bright studio lights.