The Perfect Christmas (7 page)

She sensed Jeff’s respect that she could hold her own.

‘Every agent, manager and motherfucker in LA was after this Brit. How the hell did you get him to sign with you, Greene?’

Zoe thought about her trip to London. She remembered the taxi ride to Hugh’s little house and the desolate, drunken state in which she had found him. She had been shocked. The guy was so self-destructive he made Hemingway seem like a lightweight, but for some reason he had trusted Zoe. She had cleaned him up, brought him back to LA in secret, and rented him a secluded, light-filled house in Malibu where he could write, and dry out.

She hadn’t even told Maggie Hugh was in LA. All she knew was once she heard his story, she knew he had to get out of London.

‘He trusts me,’ was all she said with a shrug.

Jeff nodded and shook his head. ‘You know I’m gonna try to screw you on the backend deal,’ he said.

‘You can try, but I doubt you’ll succeed,’ she answered, and for a brief moment, she saw respect in his eyes.

‘Come and see me tomorrow. I’ll get my assistant to call yours,’ he said.

‘So we have a deal?’ Zoe asked.

‘No, we don’t have a fucking deal! I asked for a meeting, not to fucking marry you.’

Zoe resisted the urge to punch him in his handsome face.

‘Okay, then you won’t mind if I go and meet with Harvey before you?’ she asked, using one of her last cards.

Jeff stared at her, making her feel like she was twelve years old again and under the eyes of the social worker.

‘Jesus, you’re a bitch, Greene,’ he muttered under his breath.

‘Why?’ she challenged. ‘Because I want what I want? You get to be ambitious but I’m a bitch? I’m disappointed in you, Jeff. I thought you were better than that.’

Actually this was a lie. Jeff could be a misogynistic prick, whose three ex-wives would all testify to this fact, but Zoe wanted to give him a chance to dig himself out of his gender-biased grave.

To his credit, Jeff took a moment and then looked at Zoe,‘Yes, you’re right, that was unfair. You’re not a bitch, you’re just a pain in the arse.’

Zoe laughed, despite herself. ‘You have no idea how big a pain in the arse I can be.’

Jeff put his hand out over the table. ’You’ve got a deal,’ he said. ‘Bring yourself to my office tomorrow to discuss the terms.’

Zoe took his hand in hers, feeling the smooth skin of a man who worked behind a desk all day.

‘Thank you, Jeff, you won’t regret it. This movie is going be a huge hit.’

‘It fucking better be. If it’s not, I’m gonna blame it all on you and you’ll never eat lunch in this town again.’

Zoe smiled. ‘That’s okay, I don’t eat lunch anyway,’ she said, and without a backwards glance, she walked out of the room that everyone wanted to be inside.

Outside, in the crisp midnight air, she handed the valet parking attendant the ticket for her Jaguar and shivered not from the cold, but from the feeling that there was something exciting in the air.

She laughed as she got into the car and she thought about Jeff saying she was to old for him. The last thing she wanted to be the next Mrs Beerman, no, she wanted something bigger than that; she wanted to be the next Jeff Beerman.

After nearly twenty years in Hollywood, Zoe Greene had finally got the break she needed, and she wasn’t going to let anything stand in her way.

2

Maggie Hall was careful not to trip over the train of Penelope Cruz’s enormous silver ball gown as she maneuvered through the room to gain a better view of Zoe’s conversation with Jeff Beerman.

The room was buzzing with celebrities catching up, wait staff trying to keep up with the request for drinks and powerbrokers shaking hands and comparing egos.

Maggie was a people watcher, which was part of what made her a brilliant actress, but she wasn’t trying to play either Jeff or Zoe in a new role. She knew there was something going down, and – given Zoe was both her best friend and her manager - automatically assumed it had something to do with her.

But Zoe had already left the table by the time Maggie got a decent view and she was left talking to Gwyneth Paltrow about colon cleanses.

Damn you, Zoe, she thought, at least tell me which project Jeff wants me for so I can prepare.

Did she need to lose weight or gain it? Change her hair colour from blonde to brunette? Change her body shape with four hour a day workouts?

Transforming herself came naturally to Maggie - she’d being doing it for nearly thirty-seven years. It was being herself she sometimes had trouble with, she thought wryly.

‘Maggie?’ she heard and saw Will MacIntyre standing in front of her. His Spanish girlfriend, Stella, glared at Maggie as though she were the worst person in the world, which, to Stella, she probably was.

Will’s appearance had rescued her from more colon conversation with Goop about her poop, so she turned and smiled at him brightly. On paper they had been the perfect couple, but things had never been so easy behind closed doors.

‘If it isn’t William the Ex,’ she said archly.

‘You look beautiful,’ he said, his eyes scanning Maggie in her lilac strapless gown. For a moment she felt bad for Stella, whose face fell at Will’s words.

Stella was sexy, a tumble of dark hair, breasts and curves, but Maggie was tall and willowy, and often described as a classic beauty. Tonight her blonde hair was drawn into a sleek chignon accentuating her high cheekbones and piercing blue eyes. And though her Nordic looks afforded her an enviable elegance, Maggie knew it was her trademark smile, the one that warmed her face and lit up a room, that earned her at least fifteen million dollars a movie, plus a cut of the backend. Zoe had once famously said that when Maggie Hall smiled, a person would buy whatever she was selling, commit a crime, or even give up their firstborn just to keep the light in the room.

She ignored his compliment, not because it wasn’t pleasant but because she knew he only said it to annoy Stella, who was now glaring at Maggie as though she was putting a curse on her.

‘How’s Elliot?’ She asked after Will’s son. ‘He hasn’t returned any of my calls.’

Will shrugged. ‘Still in his room, playing video games.’

‘He’s too old for games,’ said Stella impatiently, ‘He’s twenty three, he needs to be out in ze world.’

Maggie shot her a look that make Stella toss her head but turn away from Maggie’s dislike.

Yes, Elliot needed to get back out into the world but the kid did have a reason to stay inside for a while, she thought tenderly. She may not have birthed Elliot but she loved him like her own child.

’It’s been six months since the transplant. Haven’t the doctors said he can go back to college?’ she asked.

‘He doesn’t want to,’ said Will looking exhausted just talking about it, ‘He doesn’t want to do anything.’

She and Will had only been divorced for eighteen months, and while Maggie was still single, Will had wasted no time in finding a replacement. Someone younger, someone who would no doubt give him the child they had fought about throughout their marriage.

‘We have Elliot,’ she had argued at the time. ‘He needs us, and we can’t bring a child into this home when he’s so sick.’

Her argument contained a thread of truth, but what she didn’t say was that she was just didn’t feel ready to have a child with Will. She thought her body would tell her that the time was right to be pregnant but it never did and when Elliot’s congenital heart condition had worsened over their eight year marriage, the idea was parked permanently.

But she couldn’t stay in a loveless marriage, not even for Elliot. Eventually she realised she didn’t love Will, and Elliot wasn’t enough of a reason to stay.

She she tried to stay in Elliot’s life, but Will’s anger at her leaving him made it difficult to see Elliot, but she knew her wanted to see her, and that she was the closest person he had to a mother. ‘Do you want me to talk to him about it?’ she asked. ‘He won’t return my calls but I can come over and I can stage a care-frontation.’

Stella rolled her eyes, and Maggie resisted the urge to slap her.

‘I see Zoe’s been doing the deal with Jeff,’ said Will, obviously trying to change the subject and taking a large sip of his wine.

The
Vanity Fair
photographers were circling, looking for a good candid photo of the past couple and the new girlfriend. Maggie took care to smile, radiantly, as she asked, ‘What deal is that?’

But before Will could answer, Arden Walker swept into the circle.

‘Hello darlings,’ she said, but Maggie noticed she only kissed Will, touching his face in a way Maggie knew made him uncomfortable by the way his eyes blinked too many times and his jaw tensed.

Poor Will, she taught, Arden Walker would never take no for an answer, she had ambition and charisma in spades, something that poor Stella didn’t have.

Arden worked her charisma the way Stella worked her body, and right now she was clinging to Will’s side like a lemur.

Will and Arden had made a film together, a big budget action movie, two years earlier, when Arden was a mere twenty years old. Will had played her father. The film had done well at the box office, although Elliot and Maggie had watched it at her house and laughed at Arden trying to make a mediocre script sound like Chekov.

Maggie glanced at Arden’s ensemble for the evening, a mess of black leather and tulle, with a black lipstick that only accentuated her thin lips. It wasn’t that Arden was unattractive, she had a certain Euro-chicness about her with her blue-black hair, it was just that she looked mean. Elliot once said, she looked like she would throw a sack of kitten in a lake and not turn back and somehow Maggie agreed with him. Elliot knew people, it was a shame his father didn’t have the same sixth sense.

Arden pushed in between Stella and Will. ‘Is it true you’re going to be my new leading man?’ she asked. ‘We might be the next Julia and Richard,’ she purred.

Maggie rolled her eyes. She knew Arden was hoping to topple her from her pedestal and had gone from playing edgy, asexual roles to a recent part in a romantic tragedy.

‘Arden, what are you talking about?’ Will asked impatiently, draining his wine and waving the empty glass at a waiter for a new one.

‘I had lunch with Zoe’s old assistant Josh,’ she said knowingly. ‘He told me all about the film.’

Maggie, Will and Arden all shared a manager, but Zoe was and would always be Maggie’s closest friend and confidante.

‘According to Josh, Zoe wants to know if I was interested in the role. I knew she was seeing the big four studios, but I kind of guessed she’d go with Jeff, he’s a class act, despite what people say about him as a person.’ She looked at Maggie pointedly. ‘I always think it’s important to judge people on their talent, not their reputation.’

Maggie smiled. ‘I always think it’s important not to judge people,’ she said politely.

Arden looked like she knew she had lost that round and she turned back to Will and touched his chest with one black leather gloved hand.

‘Let me know if you’re going to be my leading man, Will, I certainly hope so,’ she said in a feverish voice, which made Maggie glance at Stella and make a face. Stella smiled wanly and Maggie felt sorry for her for a moment. It wasn’t easy being with Will. Women loved him, and girls like Arden would always be using him for the next career move.

But what was the role Arden was talking about?
Her brain was screaming. Will was a superb actor, at the top of his game right now. If there was a film he was being considered for, Maggie wanted to know. The only part of their marriage that worked was when they talked about work and although Zoe managed both of them, Maggie still felt proprietary towards Will and his career moves.

The movie he made with Arden had been something Maggie and Zoe had thought was a bad idea, which proved to be true at the box office. She didn’t want Will to make any more stupid choices, god knows he had made enough of them over the years.

Arden swanned off towards Bradley Cooper, Maggie turned to Will.

‘What role is she talking about? She seems thrilled to have the chance to work with you,’ Maggie said, in an imitation of Arden’s breathy delivery.

Will scoffed and took a large slug of wine, ‘As I said to Zoe, if you think I’m interested in the book that was responsible for ending my marriage, then you’re kidding yourself.’

Maggie gasped. ‘Zoe’s casting
The Art Of Love
?’

‘Casting?’ exclaimed Will, ‘She’s trying to produce it as well, which is why I guess she was sitting with Jeff. I heard she signed that sad sack writer you love so much.’

Maggie clutched the stem of her glass and nodded. ‘Excuse me,’ she said and rushed to the bathroom.

Pushing open the door, she was grateful to see the plush bathroom was unoccupied except for the bathroom attendant.

Zoe had signed Hugh Cavell six months ago? She wanted to produce
The Art of Love
and hadn’t told her? Why hadn’t she asked her to be involved? They did everything together.

This was how they had rolled for twenty years and now Zoe was keeping secrets.

Christ, she was the one who had introduced Zoe to the goddamned book.

It was the most profound and beautiful book about love that Maggie had ever read, not that she had read many books, but hell, in this one she cried, bought copies for everyone she knew and then left her marriage.

She wanted what the author and his wife had had
in The Art of Love
, and nothing less.

The author had nursed his wife through cancer, had seen her through her best and worst and he spoke of his wife in a way that Maggie doubted any man had ever spoken of her. It was her greatest desire to meet Hugh Cavell and learn from him everything she needed to know about love, and how to have a decent relationship.

She had even told Zoe all this. It was only now that Zoe’s reaction made sense.

‘Maybe he doesn’t want to be some sort of relationship guru,’ she had said. ‘He’s just a journalist who wrote a memoir, I don’t think he’s really able to offer anything else beyond this.’

Zoe must have already met him by this stage.