Page 28 of Second Act
He followed her into the bedroom then and took out his suitcase. He pulled his tuxedo out of the closet. He had brought it to England, but hadn’t worn it since the last Academy Awards, right before he got fired. She packed for him, while she tried to figure out what to wear. She didn’t have time to buy a gown. She pulled out the only long black dress she still owned. She had saved it but never worn it. It wasn’t exciting, but it would do. She finished packing, put her suitcase in the hall next to his, and then got into bed and held him. He looked upset and she gently stroked his face until he fell asleep. She hoped everything would go well in LA. She didn’t want him to get hurt again. He didn’t deserve it. And his resistance to going told them both that the wound was still deep and hadn’t healed. Maybe it never would.
Chapter 14
The flight to LA took off from Heathrow at ten o’clock the next morning. The three of them were traveling first class, at the producers’ expense, Dash and Andy. The stars, Marilyn Gray and Godfrey Hunt, were meeting them there and had gone ahead a few days before. They were going to stay at Andy’s house too. Andy was quiet when they got on the plane. Violet took her seat next to him. She had texted Timothy, the butler at Andy’s LA house, that morning, to tell him five of them would be arriving. Andy had sent Wendy an email to tell her he was going and invited her to come. There would be a dinner before the ceremony, and as nominees, they were given a table. Violet had seen it on TV, but never been there. This was a big deal for her and for all of them. She was proud of their movie, and proud of Andy for deciding to go. She knew better than anyone how hard it was for him.
Andy slept for the first half of the flight. Violet didn’t disturb him and covered him with a blanket. Then he woke up and had lunch,and after that he watched a movie. He didn’t talk to Violet and Dash. He was viscerally upset about going back to LA. He felt sick whenever he thought about it.
It was a long flight, eleven hours, and an hour before they landed, Andy sat staring out the window, lost in thought. Then he turned and smiled at Violet.
“I’m sorry I’ve been such a pain in the ass about going. It’s humiliating to go back. It’s like reliving what happened a year ago.” He had never faced it then. He had hidden in his house for two weeks and then fled to England. Now he had to go back and face them all, all the jealous and the naysayers, and people who had predicted his career was over and that he’d never get a comparable job, and he was too old. He had proven some of them wrong and written an outstanding screenplay, which showed that he had talent. But he wasn’t returning in victory. He wasn’t back as the head of a studio. He had made an indie movie, which wasn’t nearly the same thing. He wasn’t back on top, and he was sure he never would be again. Those jobs just didn’t open up very often, and nothing had changed in the past year. The heads of studios didn’t give up their jobs unless they were terminally sick, died, or got fired.
When the plane landed, Andy looked tense. They were met at the door of the plane by the airline’s VIP team and escorted through customs rapidly. Violet had been to LA with Gabe, and to New York, but it was different coming with Andy. LA was his previous kingdom. Now he was only a deposed king. He was no one, which was how he felt.
The butler had hired a driver to pick them up at the airport, since Andy no longer had one. The last one had been provided by thestudio. The driver had come to the airport in Andy’s Bentley. All along the way in the airport, airline staff had greeted him and welcomed him back to the States. The customs officials had done the same, and a Homeland Security officer shook Andy’s hand. Watching how they addressed him, and the natural grace with which Andy handled it, began to show Violet just how important he had been, and still was. He was like a visiting dignitary or an ex-president. He hadn’t been forgotten by any means. Far from it.
“Maybe no one told them I got fired,” Andy whispered to her as they got into his car.
“Maybe they still think you’re important, because you are,” she whispered back, and Andy didn’t answer. He hadn’t known what to expect on arrival. But he had also previously had one of the largest private planes at LAX waiting on call for him at all times. People didn’t forget that. Some of them had been surprised he was flying commercial now.
It took them an hour to get through LA traffic and get to the house. Marilyn and Godfrey were already there, waiting for them to arrive. What staff he had left were lined up in the driveway to greet him. They could see the pool as they entered the house, and Dash whistled, as Marilyn and Godfrey came to greet them.
“Not bad, Andy,” Dash said, and Andy smiled, as Timothy, the butler, gave Andy a warm welcome. A light meal had been set out for them in the dining room, and the maids bustled around and took the luggage to the rooms they’d been assigned. Timothy informed Marilyn and Violet that hairdressers, makeup artists, and manicurists had been arranged for them before the awards dinner the following night.
“You run a very smooth, elegant operation here,” Dash complimented Andy. Dash was wearing a wrinkled suit, the only one he had, a T-shirt and sneakers, and his hair was a wild mane of dark tangled curls. He hadn’t shaved in five days. Andy was used to the way Dash looked, and he looked no worse than anyone else in Hollywood these days. Godfrey Hunt looked impeccable and like a movie star in a blazer and white jeans and alligator loafers. Marilyn looked glamorous in white pants and a pink sweater with an Hermès bag. She got to keep her costumes on most pictures. Violet had traveled in jeans and a black leather jacket, with her dark hair pulled back.
“I didn’t know your house would be this grand,” she whispered to Andy, looking embarrassed, as she ate one of the impeccably trimmed sandwiches that had been left for them on silver trays. “I don’t have anything fancy to wear.” She was beginning to wonder if he was going to be embarrassed going to the awards with her in her plain black dress. Marilyn had borrowed a dress from Dior in London. Dash had bought a tuxedo off the rack at Saint Laurent the day before. Godfrey had his own, made to order for him in Rome, and Andy’s was from his London tailor, who made all his clothes.
The others wandered around the ground floor, admiring the art, and Godfrey stopped in front of Andy’s parents’ movie posters. “I love his movies,” he said reverently. “I’m a huge fan. You too?” he said, and Andy smiled. He loved seeing the familiar posters again. He had missed them.
“He was my father,” Andy said simply. Godfrey hadn’t made the connection with the same last name and felt foolish, as he stared at Andy.
“Oh my God. He was one of the all-time greats. I’ve seen all his movies.”
“Me too,” Dash said. He already knew about Andy’s father. Violet looked at them carefully too, realizing not only that Andy had had an important job, but that he was a member of Hollywood royalty, and no one could take that away from him. Being in LA with him gave her a glimpse of what his life had been like before he left. He exuded power and was an important man here. In England he was able to get lost in the crowd now if he tried hard enough. In LA, there was no way he could. She understood now why he hadn’t wanted to come, but she was glad he had. He needed to be reminded that this was who he was, and had been long before he was the head of Global Studios.
They all went to their rooms and Timothy told them that dinner would be served at eight o’clock, and they were welcome to swim before that. They had opted to stay home that night, and dinner had been ordered from Andy’s favorite Mexican restaurant.
When he got to his room with Violet, she looked around his enormous bedroom, at the antiques and the art, the framed mementos, and sat down on the bed. It was late for them with the time difference.
“Your house makes my old house look like a shack,” she said, and he laughed. “Did your daughter grow up in this house?”
“No. I gave her mother the house she grew up in. I bought this one after the divorce. It’s my bachelor pad. I used to entertain a lot here, before I got too busy.”
“It’s an incredible place. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather go to the ceremony with some movie star? You can always say thatMarilyn is your date, and I’ll just go with Dash.” She meant it, and he could see how shy she felt. She didn’t feel equal to his lifestyle. She didn’t have the clothes for it and didn’t want to embarrass him.
“As my mother used to say, Dash looks like an unmade bed. You’re here with me, and I’m proud to be going to the awards ceremony with you. I’ll walk the red carpet with you, Vi, not some movie star. You’re my star.” He had grown up in the spotlight and it was second nature to him. Being a studio head was part of it, but his own history and who he was were a bigger part, she saw now. When he ran away to England after he was fired, he forgot who he had been before Global Studios came into his life. No one could take any of that away from him. He was a star in his own right, without being a studio head. She reminded him of it while they showered and dressed for dinner.
“I forget that sometimes,” he said, as he thought about it. “I like being in Europe because I can disappear. I can’t disappear here.”
“You don’t need to. You can be you, whether you’re head of a studio, or writing a screenplay for a movie. You get to do whatever you want to do. People are always going to be jealous of you, because of who you are and who your parents were, how you live and what you drive. You don’t need to hide anymore, Andy. You can be whoever you want and do what you want,” she said gently, as he buttoned an immaculate white shirt, and put on jeans and brown suede shoes, and she put on jeans and a red sweater with red flats.
He was happy she was there, and it felt good to be home. He had forgotten how much he liked his house. He had been gone for so long. They walked down the stairs from his bedroom holding hands, and out onto the patio where the others were waiting and drinkingmargaritas Timothy had made. They were delicious, everyone agreed. Dash was swimming, but the others were dressed. Dash reminded Andy of a big friendly Labrador who would shake his mop of wet hair and get them all wet. He and Violet helped themselves to margaritas and sat down with the others. There was heat coming from the floor of the patio and it was comfortable sitting outside.
“If I had this house, I would never leave LA,” Dash said, as he toweled off after his swim. Timothy appeared, handed him a terry-cloth robe, and Dash helped himself to one of the margaritas and looked blissfully happy in a lounge chair.
Andy had gotten an email from Wendy when he landed that both her children and their nanny were sick, and she wouldn’t be able to come to LA, but she’d be watching the awards on TV.
“I guess turnabout is fair play,” he said quietly to Violet when he got the email. “I never went to any of her awards ceremonies either. Her mother did. I was always working. I don’t think we’ll win anyway.” But he wanted Violet and Wendy to meet one of these days. He and Violet would have to go to New York.
