Picture Perfect. Kate Forster
She asked. It was always best to be straight up with people, she had realized over the years, even if they found it confrontational.
Jeff took a moment to answer, and during those seconds Zoe felt herself fly backwards in time and space and she was outside, hearing the chickens roosting for the night, cold, alone and hungry. The emotional memory of her body always betrayed her, she thought, as she tried to remain present.
‘Greene?’ Jeff’s voice jerked her out of the chicken coop and back onto the side of the highway. ‘Did you hear what I said?’
Zoe blinked and breathed away the anxiety in her chest.
‘No, I didn’t, can you repeat it please?’ she asked, trying to keep the edge out of her voice.
‘I said, there isn’t a problem, as long as we keep costs down,’ he said. ‘Why don’t you come in now and we can go through them together? I have your contracts here too.’
‘Really? That was quick, even for you,’ she said, thinking aloud.
‘I know a good thing when it’s offered to me,’ said Jeff, sounding as though he didn’t have a care in the world. ‘I had my lawyers draw them up last night.’
They must have loved that, thought Zoe. The night of the Oscars and they had to work? By all accounts, Jeff was a punishing man to work for, exacting and relentless, but there was no doubt he was brilliant and to learn from him was a once-in-a-lifetime chance.
And she didn’t know if one of the larger studios would give her a producer title if she asked. Time was running out. If they didn’t move now, then the momentum of the book would be lost.
‘I’m on my way,’ she said.
Before she pulled out into the morning traffic again and headed back to Hollywood, Zoe dialled another number.
‘Zo.’ Maggie’s voice was groggy. ‘What’s up?’
‘I need your help,’ said Zoe as she did a U-turn. ‘But it’s a secret so you have to promise me you won’t tell anyone.’
There was a silence on the end of the phone and then Maggie’s voice came through clearer this time.
‘When have I ever let a secret of yours out into the world?’
Maggie’s voice was terse, but this deal meant everything to Zoe at this moment. She needed someone she could trust and who was nearby in Malibu.
‘I know, but listen this is a big one,’ she said.
‘Has it got something to do with casting The Art of Love?’ said Maggie.
Zoe gasped. ‘How the hell did you know that?’
‘Will told me,’ Maggie answered crossly.
Damn you, Will, thought Zoe. He used any chance he got to needle his ex-wife, even privileged information like the initial casting discussions for The Art of Love.
‘He really shouldn’t have done that.’
‘It was actually Arden Walker who spilled first. She claims she’ll be playing Simone opposite Will,’ Maggie said in a tight voice.
‘What? She isn’t Simone. The movie hasn’t been cast yet. Hell, we don’t even have a studio on board!’ said Zoe, exasperated.
‘But the unofficial casting has begun?’ Maggie demanded.
Zoe made a face at the road ahead. The book was her baby and she wanted to bring it to life, the last thing she needed was Maggie and Arden fighting over a role, and causing drama.
‘No. I only asked Will because Hugh mentioned he liked him as an actor, but nothing more than that. Arden’s kidding herself if she thinks she’s right for this role.’
‘Arden thinks she’s right for every role,’ said Maggie wryly and Zoe laughed.
‘This isn’t funny, Zoe. I’m really hurt you didn’t tell me. You hadn’t even heard of that book before I gave it to you! ‘
Zoe sighed. ‘I didn’t tell anyone, I promise. It wasn’t personal, it was business.’
‘But you told Will,’ Maggie argued.
‘Yes, I admit that, but I had to see if he was interested before I went to the studios, so I could take a big name with me. I was going to talk to you about it, but I had to do the deal first,’ Zoe tried to defend herself.
‘I’m a big name,’ said Maggie, her voice sounding small. ‘You could have taken me.’
Zoe could have used Maggie as bait for the studios, but Will was an even bigger star at the box office, and she knew Maggie was too old to play Simone even if Maggie didn’t realize it yet.
They needed someone new, younger and without any expectations from the public. Someone audiences could easily fall in love with and identify as Simone. They needed to create a star.
‘Mags, I know you hate me right now, but I need your help, I’m going to tell you something no one knows, not my assistant, not even Jeff. Can you help me or not?’
Maggie was silent while she weighed it up. She loved to be included in anything, a legacy of having so often been left out and overlooked as a child, she would regularly remind Zoe.
‘Okay, I guess I’ll help,’ she said eventually. ‘But believe me, I’m still pissed at you.’
‘I know, hate me later, but help me now. I promise I’ll make it up to you,’ Zoe pleaded.
‘Go on then.’
‘Okay, so the thing is, Hugh Cavell is in LA,’ said Zoe. ‘He’s been here for about six months.’ Zoe paused. ‘He’s, ah… he’s been drying out.’
Maggie didn’t say anything, so Zoe continued.
‘He just did four months in Promises and he’s trying to stay on track. But he’s pretty self-destructive, Mags. I don’t like to leave him alone for long periods of time.’
‘Jesus,’ breathed Maggie, ‘that’s awful. I had no idea he was such a mess.’
‘If your wife died of brain cancer and you became a millionaire from the story of your grief, wouldn’t you feel kind of bad?’
‘I guess,’ said Maggie quietly.
‘You guess?’ Zoe started to laugh and Maggie joined in.
‘I don’t know, I suppose so,’ said Maggie. ‘What do you need me to do? Author-sit for you? Just so you know, I’m expensive.’
‘I do know, I write your contracts, remember?’
Zoe had checked in on Hugh every day via phone or email, and usually Hugh was fine, but he had sounded odd yesterday when she’d called. She didn’t want him to fall off the wagon when they were so close to what she wanted.
‘Where is he and what does he need?’ Maggie sighed.
Zoe gave Maggie the address in Malibu. ‘But don’t talk to him about the book,’ she warned.
‘What? How can I not? You know I love that book,’ cried Maggie.
‘I know, but he doesn’t.’
Hugh would roll his eyes whenever the book was mentioned. He said he felt uncomfortable about the hype around his wife’s death, that his readers were the ravens on the carcass of his marriage. He said he wished he had never written the book but then he took the film deal, which Zoe never quite understood. She had tried to understand it at first, but eventually she gave up trying to prise open Hugh’s armour.
She saw it was a façade of self-protection covering enormous grief. She understood grief, she had wanted to tell him, but she didn’t. She never told anyone about her own loss. Managing other people’s lives had suited her to a point, that way