Chapter One
The sound of the coffee grinder working was the only thing that could be heard in my spacious kitchen. I sipped on what I already had; the fourth cup that morning. But after another night sitting up in my study, pouring over my script, all the coffee on this planet couldn’t bring me back to life.
I gazed up at my wife, who shuffled around the kitchen island like a zombie, her hair hanging around her face and down her back in frizzy knots, her wrinkled nightshirt covered in wine stains, her eyes framed in smudged makeup from last night.
Finally, the coffee grinder stopped. I stood up and made my way to the machine, running my fingers over the dark marble countertop on the way there. There was no question I would miss these.
Her rose-petal perfume caught my nose as I brushed past her. “You want some?”
She grunted, then made a movement I could best interpret as shaking her head. “You shouldn’t have any either.”
“Is that where we are?”
“What?”
She still hadn’t looked at me since she came out of our bedroom.
“You telling me what to do?” I sucked in the smell of hot caffeine, the steam alone speaking to my body.
She scoffed. “I figured out I couldn’t do that a long time ago.” She yanked open one of our black wood cabinets and pulled out a mug. She then reached over me, grabbing the coffee pot and pouring it for herself anyway.
I stood with my back leaning against the countertop, reluctant to put distance between us again. “What is that supposed to mean?”
She rolled her eyes, sipping her own coffee. “I’m too tired for this bullshit.”
“You were out all night…”
“You would know a lot about that wouldn’t you.”
“I can’t believe you.”
“You should try harder.” She slammed the mug on the counter, the contents spraying out.
I clenched my jaw. She really had a knack for making my stomach turn. “Is that really necessary?”
“Is what?”
I gestured at the divorce papers on our breakfast table. They still sat where they had been gathering dust for weeks now, daring me to confront them, to confront this, the end of a marriage that lasted over ten years. What was I supposed to do with myself now? I gazed around at the spacious kitchen that opened up to the living room, the big, white sectional we had argued for months over, the bay windows that overlooked all of Los Angelas, the little trinkets and art pieces we had picked up after this trip or that. All of it would be gone soon. A memory. What was I supposed to do with that?
She bit her plump lip.
I cocked my head at her. She had a way about that; being the biggest devil on the planet, then doing that one thing to remind me of how we used to be.
“I don’t see how I can go on like this at all.” She said.
“Because you’ve fallen in love with someone else.”
“Because you never loved me to begin with.”
There it was, the elephant in the room. I opened my mouth, a distinct act to try to deny it. That’s what I always did, denied it. But this morning, as I looked into Marianne’s eyes, saw the steady determination in them, the frankness in them, I realized I had to let it go. Had to let her go.
***
After dropping our daughter off at nursery school, I made my way to the Beverly Hills hotel later that morning, my chest feeling heavy from all of this. I couldn’t believe that this was my reality now. I couldn’t believe my whole past led to this moment of decision. As I sat in that mid-morning traffic, my mind started wandering to the difficult things. What would I do about my daughter, Ally? How do I explain to her that mommy and daddy don’t share a home anymore, a bed?
I shook my head and those thoughts away with it.
Finally, I was pulling into the parking lot of the Beverly Hills. I parked the car and went up to the hotel room I had booked for the auditions. The stuffy, antique space had already been outfitted for this purpose. A desk had been placed in the room. There were about five people in the room; the screenwriter, producers and my casting director, Clara.
She smiled at me when I opened the door, wagging her ponytail around. I could tell from the shadow in her grey eyes that she had seen the magazines and heard the news. All of the sudden my dead marriage was of everyone’s concern. “Good morning, David.”
The rest of the people in the room murmured their own greetings as I sat in my place at the desk. “Who do we have today.” I hated the way my voice cracked.
Clara sat next to me. “Ivanka Berta, Sarina Emmie, Alexandra Durn, and Laila Rhodes.”
I lifted my head at that last name. Laila Rhodes. I had known her four years ago. She was my nanny for two years when she first moved to the city. I remembered hearing that she had wanted to become an actress, but what kind of tricks could she have turned for four years to end up on my casting couch that quickly.
“Which one first?”
“Laila.”
I couldn’t explain the way that my heart skipped a beat at this. I wanted to see her again, that was obvious, but it wasn’t until I was about to that I even realized how much. I blinked, letting my eyes stay shut for a little longer than a second as I remembered her on the last day I had seen her, her raven hair tied up in a ponytail as she bounded down the front staircase with that box of odd things she had deposited in our house over the years
It was Marianne’s decision to let her go. I was sad to watch it happen.
There was a knock on the door.
Clara stood up and went to the door. I glanced over to see Laila, just as radiant as ever, her young skin glistening in the dim lighting, her lips covered in red lipstick, her eyes wide with excitement.
I needed to have a moment alone with her, I knew it as surely as I knew my relationship with Marianne was over. A smile played on my lips as she walked from the door to the center of the audition space in front of my desk.
She gazed down at me, a smirk on her face and not an ounce of fear in her eyes. “Begin.”
I didn’t want to like her audition. Quite frankly, I hoped she would fail. As she embodied the character I had dreamed about for over two months, I realized I was about to put myself in the worst position of my career.
“Thank you.” I put my hand up before she was done. I had heard everything I needed to hear. I didn’t look up at her as she left the room.
“Clara,” I said as I scribbled down some notes on her resume.
“Yes?”
I could almost smile at her feigned ignorance. “You did this on purpose.”
She shook her head. “She’s talented, and you know it.”
I sucked in a ragged breath. My heart throbbed in my chest. I wanted just five minutes alone with her. “I can’t take her.”
Clara shook her head, a knowing smile on her face. “That’s not fair.”
I set my jaw, the temptation far too much. “What are you doing to me?”
She shrugged. “I’m helping you make a movie.”