Hardy 02 - The Vig by Lescroart John

Author:Lescroart, John [Lescroart, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Shared-Mom, Suspense, General, Fiction, Mystery & Detective
ISBN: 9780451219152
Google: 9urLNjPPBH8C
Amazon: 0451219155
Publisher: Signet
Published: 1990-01-02T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

It didn’t feel like he’d thought it would-seeing your own images up there on the screen, your words being spoken by people who pretended to care about them. In his imaginings, the scene always had him sitting next to Maxine, both of them puffed with accomplishment, she up there filling the screen with her beauty and talent, he for the idea, the words, the artistic vision behind it all.

But now the reality was so different. As it always seemed to be lately. He was slumped in his easy chair, smoke curling from a cigarette in his left hand. Courtenay and Warren sat on the couch, the room rearranged for the screening. And Maxine? The only place Maxine lived-on the screen -didn’t seem real anymore. And yet that was all that was real.

It was his first movie. This was the final cut with sound before the music was added. There was beer and champagne in the kitchen sink for afterward. Other acquaintances, friends, reclined or sat Indian-style on the floor, watching Maxine say his words, do his bidding, live the part he’d created for her.

The doorbell sounded and he half turned to see someone he didn’t recognize, a man, enter and sit on the floor. Ray Weir put him out of his mind. This film, unreal though it might be, was all that was now left of Maxine. He should pay attention.

He wanted to stop the reel and just look at her. God, she was… had been… beautiful. He supposed he still loved her. No. He knew he still loved her, always would. She had been his friend and his muse. She had been what had separated him from the other drones cranking out words and scenes and treatments.

Okay, so the movie wasn’t exactly an ‘A’ feature. You made compromises when you started out, when you needed a credit or two for credibility. Everybody in the business understood that.

Those earlier scenes, nearly doing it with Bryan-their friend who played the stepfather-they were pretty tasteful, Ray thought, although Warren had done a good job of making it seem they were really screwing. But Maxine had told him about it after they’d shot that day, about the angles they’d had to use to look real and still avoid-she’d said, “You know, penetration.”

But this was to be only the first step in a long career. They were going to do it again-an entire work, an oeuvre of films by Ray Weir, starring Maxine…

They weren’t too old, in spite of Maxine’s giving up on it. That was all Rusty Ingraham’s doing, that negative stuff, the change in her.

He squirmed in his chair. In the room’s flickering light, he saw the film had everyone’s attention. Bryan was there. No girlfriend with him of course. Warren had his arm around Courtenay, who had done a fine editing job. The print was good and clean. This was a professional effort -screenplay by Ray Weir.

They couldn’t take their eyes off Maxine. But it was his story that was holding them.

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