Deception

LOS ANGELES

“I like her reaction here. Keep that, but cut the pause before his speech. He gets a little self-indulgent building up to his angry outburst.”

Stan was in Doug Meyer’s editing room looking at the day’s shoot. Doug was his best and most trusted editor. Stan had made sure he would have him on the feature.

“Don’s going to shit when he sees it.”

“Let me worry about that half-baked ham. The network forced him on me and now the rest of us have to live with him. If they only knew what we go through every week to make him look like he’s not doing a poor man’s Brando. He fights me on the set but there’s nothing he can do about what happens in this room.”

“Just sayin.”

Stan knew that Doug was right, but he could always handle actors, even Don Lazlo, who was the worst actor he had ever been forced to deal with. What he couldn’t handle was remembering last night and what he had done to Lila. It was unforgivable. He was relieved that Howard was meeting with investors today. He was alone with Doug, so he didn’t have to put up with any superfluous comments, objections, or casual bantering that only extended editing time and rarely improved the show. Doug had little or no ego and just made the cuts as he was told, which was why Stan hired him whenever he was available.

Last night had been a nightmare. Stan had hoped that that was all it had been, but one look at Lila’s battered face this morning shattered that illusion. He stood silently by her bed in one of the spare bedrooms where she had chosen to spend the night and could not fathom how he could have lost control so completely. He had always thought of himself as not having a violent bone in his body—good old Stan, full of jokes, the life of the party, and always able to inspire a fierce loyalty in his crew. So what the hell was he doing pounding his fists into a helpless, hundred and ten-pound woman? Thinking back on it sickened him, and he felt the bile rising from his stomach into his throat.

“What did you think of the cut just before the pan down the beach?” Doug was asking him. “I wasn’t sure if the hair matched the close-up.”

“No, it was fine…just fine.” He was barely aware of what he was seeing on the monitor.

He had heard that cocaine could lower your boiling point a little, but he didn’t see how the small amount he had snorted last night could change the entire makeup of his personality. And when he really thought about it, if Lila hadn’t started screaming at him, he wouldn’t have become aggravated enough to hit her. Any man would have had a hard time restraining himself.

Yesterday, after a great deal of thought and soul-searching, he had come to the conclusion that as much as he loved Lila, as much as her beauty still fascinated and excited him, there wasn’t much left of their marriage. They hadn’t had sex in months and any warmth that she had sparingly shared with him in the beginning had slowly died down into barely tolerant indifference. He didn’t want to live like that anymore. Coming home and looking at that face used to be a joy. Now he looked for any excuse to avoid it. He admitted to himself now that he may have been too blunt with her last night, but he was sick of the playacting that went on between them. He was up to his eyeballs in that at work and he didn’t need it from his own wife. But hitting her after she started screaming at him, that wasn’t who he was. After he finished the feature, the booze, cocaine, and Lila would all have to go. Meanwhile, he would placate her and keep her off his back so he could work with a clear head.

Stan’s cell phone rang. Still distracted, he took it out of his pocket and answered. He heard Moe’s voice. “He’ll be in from Vegas tomorrow. If you can promise that there won’t be any blowback from the bruhaha with Lila, he’ll be happy to start accommodating you again.”

“Tell him he’s got it and ask him where he wants to meet.”

He hung up, happy that at least one of his problems had been solved. “Doug, let me see that last cut again.”

Doug made a few clicks on his computer and brought up the scene. Stan relaxed and concentrated on his work. Everything was under control, he assured himself. He finally felt like his life was headed in the right direction.

****

Lila hated not being perfect. She had been perfect ever since she could remember. No matter what else she had lacked in her life, perfection of face and body was not among them.

She examined herself in her bedroom dressing table mirror with the seasoned eye of a veteran nitpicker and was appalled at what she saw. Several layers of foundation, concealer, and powder were beginning to cake on her face, but heavy makeup was the only way to hide the yellow and blue discolorations. But there was no time to take it all off and start over again. Josh was due any second. She hadn’t wanted to see anyone until her face returned to its natural, flawless beauty, but the recording session had been scheduled for next Monday and every day of rehearsal was important. Missing one day was all she could afford.

At least the swelling had finally gone down. She looked closer at the skin around her eyes. Thank God, no wrinkles yet but as soon as the first one appeared, she would immediately have a laser peel to get rid of the offending crevices. Having a face that looked old and wrinkled was such a terrifying prospect, it turned her cold with fear if she allowed her mind to dwell on it. The doorbell mercifully ended her dark ruminations and she smiled as Ingrid opened the door and she heard Josh’s footsteps coming down the hall.

****

“Just remember what I told you; try to draw the words out smoothly and don’t enunciate so clearly. Think lazy and feel free to add the curly-cues like I did on the demo.”

She was standing in front of the piano near the boom box while he sat on the bench facing her.

Lila laughed. “I feel like a real jazz singer when I add extra notes. Do I really sound okay?”

“Like Ella Fitzgerald.” Forgive me Ella, Josh thought.

She poked him in the chest with her finger. “Don’t bullshit me, mister…I’m not quite there yet, but close!”

Lila’s voice had sounded a lot better than he had expected. She must have been working her ass off all day yesterday despite the pain from the bruises on her face. When he had looked at her more closely and seen the patchwork she had done to cover up the evidence from something they were both pretending never happened, the rage that he had had to keep suppressed threatened to boil to the surface again. But he knew he had to stay calm for her sake. She needed acclamation now, not more harsh rhetoric.

“You’ll do fine on Monday. You’ve got your own soft, sexy sound.”

She sat next to him on the piano bench and they looked at each other intently, not sharing their thoughts. Josh felt her thigh pressing close to his and he knew if he stayed one second longer, it would be a terrible mistake. He stood up and pulled her up into a friendly hug, then held her at arm’s length. “Keep doing the exercises, practice breathing, and trust yourself that you know the song backwards and forwards. We’ll be recording it several times and take the best cuts, so you have nothing to worry about. I won’t let you out of the studio until I have what I need. Okay? Trust me?”

“Like nobody else, ever.”

He released her with a quick smile and walked quickly down the hall.