and he had a genuine smile she was learning was rare to come by in this town.
She thought of Will, who’d been less than enamoured with news of her moving out to LA. ‘I’m not sure,’ she replied.
Marty made a face. ‘That means no.’
‘It does?’
He picked something out from between his teeth—a remnant from lunch, perhaps—and examined it before sucking it off his fingers. It told Stevie all she needed to know about how powerful Marty was. He didn’t need to impress; his name spoke for itself.
‘Sure it does.’ He linked his hands across his belly. ‘From here on in it’s about who you’re associated with. Stevie Speller spells class, she spells … sophistication. Some boyfriend you couldn’t give two craps about ain’t gonna cut it.’
‘Who said I don’t give a crap about him?’
‘I said two craps. You might give one: you’re still with the bozo. Do I know him?’
‘No.’
‘Good. The ones I know are the ones that cause me trouble. Take my advice and stay single. It’ll make my life a hell of a lot easier, not to mention yours.’
‘OK …’
‘With your looks and talent,’ he said matter-of-factly, ‘there’s no place to go but up. That accent right there’s gonna have every major studio shitting money out their asses to sign you.’
She laughed. He didn’t.
‘You heard of Xander Jakobson?’ Marty asked.
‘Yes.’ He was a thirtyish actor-turned-director, quite handsome. He’d been nominated last spring for an Award.
‘I want him to see you.’ Marty rolled up his shirtsleeves. ‘His new project’s got your name all over it.’ There was a knock on the door. He looked up, distracted. ‘Yes?’
A pretty blonde opened the door. ‘Rita Clay called. I told her you were in a meeting but she made me promise to ask you personally to return it.’
Marty pinched the bridge of his nose. He stayed like that for several seconds before saying, ‘Thank you, Jennifer.’
When his secretary had gone, he turned to Stevie. ‘In the middle of a complicated negotiation,’ he said by way of explanation. Stevie shrugged; it was none of her business.
‘Xander Jakobson?’ she prompted.
‘See what you make of the script, I think you’ll like it. Let me get on to him. I’m sure we can strike a deal.’
On impulse she asked, ‘What do you know about Linus Posen?’
Marty sat back and narrowed his eyes. One whole wall of his office was glass and outside the green tops of palm trees quivered in the warm breeze. ‘Why d’you ask?’
Stevie shrugged.
‘I know you’re not gonna be working with him any time soon,’ said Marty.
‘Oh?’
‘You met him?’
‘In New York, last year. He offered me work. I thought I should mention it.’
‘What kind of work?’
‘He didn’t say. He gave me his card but I never called.’
‘You know what line he’s in?’
As far as she knew Linus directed mindless action blockbusters. She told Marty so.
‘That’s right,’ he said, and she detected a note of caution in his voice. He let the silence hang before adding, abruptly back to business, ‘So it’s not what we’re going for.’
‘I didn’t think so.’
‘Good,’ said Marty. ‘Take my advice, it’s what you pay me for, and steer well clear.’
When Stevie got back to her apartment, Will Gardner was waiting for her. Bibi’s brother was due to arrive this afternoon and her first reaction was one of annoyance. Couldn’t Will have called?
‘Hello, beautiful,’ he said when she exited the cab, drawing her into his arms and planting a kiss on her lips. She didn’t know what to say.
‘What are you doing here?’ she asked eventually.
‘Do I need a reason other than this?’ He looped his arms around her waist and kissed her again. Stevie was hot and her top was clinging to the skin on her back: she wanted to get in the shower, change into a baggy T-shirt and sit by herself. It had been a hectic week and she realised now that Will was the last person she felt like seeing.
She didn’t want to be a cow about it. ‘Come in,’ she said. ‘Sorry it’s a bit of a mess.’
The apartment was in a basic, unfussy compound, laid out like the motels she had seen in films: a one-storey cream building that formed an L-shape around a central shared swimming pool. She doubted if the novelty of a pool would ever wear off. Since arriving she’d adopted a routine of early-morning swim followed by a healthy breakfast and a review of the day’s scenes.
Inside, Will helped himself to some apple juice out of the fridge, which he drank straight from the carton. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and pulled Stevie into an embrace. She felt yucky and wanted to change, but Will’s touch was all over her, his tongue in her mouth, sticky from the juice. Maybe if she slept with him now she wouldn’t have to later.
As they had sex he delivered a virtually non-stop stream of accolades, such as how gorgeous she was, how much he’d missed her, what a great body she had, how she was the hottest lay in the world. It felt wrong. Stevie had never been vocal during sex—and, besides, what was she meant to say back? Thank you. Now would you please hurry up and come? She realised then that Will had always been more into this than she was, despite what he’d said in the beginning. Breaking up would be horrible, but it was unfair to keep stringing him along.
Afterwards, he showered. Stevie took the opportunity to call Bibi. While Marty King hadn’t expressly said anything negative about Linus Posen, his remarks had unnerved her. Bibi hadn’t seemed herself recently: she wasn’t the sparky, carefree girl Stevie had met in New York.
Her friend picked up on the fourth ring. ‘Steve! How’re you?’
Stevie pulled the bed sheet up and lay back. She could hear the steady thrum of the shower, the change in rhythm as Will’s body moved beneath it. ‘Did you know Will’s here?’
‘Wow. I thought you guys were taking it slowly.’
‘So did I.’ She sighed, rubbing her temple. ‘What’s new?’
‘Well,’ began Bibi, ‘I was all set to call you, actually. I’ve got something I’ve been just dying to tell you! ’
Stevie sat up, willing it to be a successful audition. ‘Go on, then, spill!’
‘I’m moving in with Linus!’ Confused, Stevie waited for more. ‘He’s relocating to his house in Beverly Hills, and I’m coming with him! What do you think? Isn’t it incredible?’
‘Really?’
‘Yes!’
‘I didn’t even know you were dating.’
‘We kind of are, we kind of aren’t.’ Bibi cleared her throat, and for the first time in their acquaintance Stevie detected something forced in her enthusiasm. ‘We’re sleeping together. I mean, I don’t know if I’m the only one. But truthfully I don’t mind too much! And he must really like me, right? To ask me to come with him, I mean. Because the stuff I’ve been doing up till now hasn’t been great, but Linus says that once we’re in Hollywood he’s putting me in touch with all the major casting agents and when he starts spreading the word then it’s practically definite