by Mario Puzo
“You’re right,” Steven said. “They’re so expensive to make we have to sell them to both sexes. Our tag marketing line will be ‘Condom of the Stars.’ How about that for a name? Star Condoms.”
The movie and their affair were both huge successes. Athena had successfully climbed the first rung of the ladder to stardom, and each picture she made over the next five years solidified that success.
The affair, as most star affairs go, was also a success but naturally short-lived. Steven and Athena loved each other with help from the script, but their love had the humor and detachment made necessary by his fame and her ambition. Neither could afford to be more in love than the other and this equality in love was death to their passion. Also there was the question of geography. The affair ended when the picture ended. Athena went on location to India, Steven on location to Italy. There were phone calls and Christmas cards and gifts, they even flew to Hawaii for a weekend of ecstasy. Working together on a movie was like being Knights at the Round Table. Searching for fame and fortune was looking for the Holy Grail, you had to do it on your own.
There had been speculation that they might marry. Of this there was no possibility. Athena enjoyed the affair but always saw its comic side. Though she made it her business as a professional actor to appear more in love than Steven, it was almost impossible for her not to giggle. Steven was so sincere, so perfect as an ardent and sensitive lover, that she could just as well have gone to one of his films.
His physical beauty could be enjoyed but not constantly admired. His constant use of drugs and liquor was so controlled it was impossible to pass judgment. He treated cocaine as a prescription drug, alcohol made him more charming. Even his success had not made him willful or moody.
So it was a great surprise when Steven proposed marriage. Athena refused with good humor. She knew that Steven screwed everything that moved, on location, in Hollywood, and even at the rehabilitation clinic when his drug problem got out of control. He was not a man she wanted to have as a semipermanent part of her life.
Steven took her refusal well. It had been a momentary weakness springing from an excess of cocaine. He was almost relieved.
Over the next five years, as Athena shot up to the top rank of stardom, Steven began to fade. He was still an idol to his fans, especially women, but he was unlucky or unintelligent in picking his roles. Drugs and alcohol made him more careless in his work habits. Through Melo Stuart, Steven had asked Athena for the male lead in Messalina. The shoe was now on the other foot. Athena had approval of her costar and she gave him the role. She said yes out of a perverse sense of gratitude and because he was perfect for the part, however with the proviso that he did not have to sleep with her.
During the last five years Athena had had short affairs. One had been with a young producer, Kevin Marrion, the only son of Eli Marrion.
Kevin Marrion was her age but a veteran of the movie business. He had produced his first major film at the age of twenty-one and it had been a hit. Which convinced him he had a genius for movies. Since that time he had produced three flops, and now only his father gave him credibility in the industry.
Kevin Marrion was extremely good-looking; after all, Eli Marrion’s first wife had been one of the greatest beauties in the business. Unfortunately his looks iced out in the camera and he failed all his screen tests. As a serious artist his future was as a producer.
Athena and Kevin met when he asked her to star in his new film. Athena listened to him in rapt wonder and horror. He talked with the particular innocence of the very serious-minded.
“This is the best movie script I have ever read,” Kevin said. “I must tell you in all honesty that I helped rewrite it. Athena you are absolutely the only actress that deserves this role. I could have any actress in the industry but I want you.” He looked sternly at her to convince her of his sincerity.
Athena was fascinated by his pitching of the script. It was the story of a homeless woman living on the streets who is redeemed by the finding of an abandoned infant in a garbage pail and who then goes on to become the leader of the homeless in America. Half of the film consisted of her pushing the shopping cart that held all her possessions. And after surviving alcohol, drugs, near starvation, rape, and a government attempt to take away her foundling, she goes on to run for president of the United States on an independent ticket. Not winning, however—that was the class of the script.
Athena’s fascination had really been horror. This was a script that would require her to be a homeless, despairing woman in a desolate background in old clothes. Visually, a disaster. The sentimentality was rank, the intelligence level of dramatic construction, idiotic. It was a bewildering, hopeless mess.
Kevin said, “If you play this part, I will die happy.”
And Athena thought, Am I crazy or is this guy a moron? But he was a powerful producer. Obviously sincere, and obviously a man who could get things done. She looked despairingly at Melo Stuart, and he smiled back at her encouragingly. But she could not speak.
“Wonderful. Wonderful idea,” Melo said. “Classic. Rise and fall. Fall and rise. The very essence of drama. But Kevin, you know how important it is for Athena after her breakthrough to select the proper follow-up. Let us read the script and we’ll get back to you.”
“Of course,” Kevin said and handed both of them copies of the script. “I know you’ll love it.”
Melo took Athena to a small Thai restaurant on Melrose. They ordered their meal and flipped through the script.
“I’ll kill myself first,” Athena said. “Is Kevin retarded?”
“You still don’t understand the movie business,” Melo said. “Kevin has intelligence. He’s just doing something he is not equipped to do. I’ve seen worse.”
“Where? When?” Athena said.
“I can’t recall offhand,” Melo said. “You’re a big enough star to say no but you’re not big enough to make unnecessary enemies.”
“Eli Marrion is too smart to back his son up on this one,” Athena said. “He must know how terrible this script is.”
“Sure,” Melo said. “He even jokes that he has a son who makes flop commercial movies and a daughter who makes serious movies that lose money. But Eli has to make his children happy. We don’t. We say no to this movie. But there’s a catch. LoddStone owns the rights to a big novel that has a great role for you. If you turn Kevin down, you may not get that other part.”
Athena shrugged. “This time I’ll wait.”
“Why not take both parts? Make it a condition you do the novel first. Then we’ll find an out on making Kevin’s picture.”
“And that won’t make enemies?” Athena asked him smiling.
“The first picture will be a big hit so it won’t matter. Then you can afford to make enemies.”
“Are you sure I can get out of Kevin’s picture afterwards?” Athena said.
“If I don’t get you out, you can fire me,” Melo said. He had already made the deal with Eli Marrion, who could not give the direct no to his son and had chosen this way out of the disaster. Eli wanted to make Melo and Athena the villains. And Melo didn’t mind. Part of any movie agent’s job was to be the villain in the script.
Everything worked out. The first part, the film of the novel, made Athena an absolutely first-rank star. But unfortunately the consequences made her decide on a period of celibacy.
During the sham of the preproduction of Kevin’s movie that would never be made, it was predictable that he would fall in love with Athena. Kevin Marrion was a relatively innocent young man for a producer, and he pursued Athena with unabashed sincerity and ardor. His enthusiasm and his social conscience were his greatest charm. One evening, in a moment of weakness compounded by the guilt she felt about betraying the picture, Athena took him to bed. It was enjoyable enough and Kevin insisted on marriage.
Meanwhile Athena and Melo had persuaded Claudia De Lena to rewrite the script. She rewrote it as farce and Kevin fired her. He was so angry that he became
a bore.
For Athena the affair was convenient. It fitted in nicely with her working schedule. And Kevin’s enthusiasm was pleasurable in bed. And his insistence on marriage even without a prenuptial agreement was flattering, since he would inherit LoddStone Studios one day.
But one night after listening to him talk incessantly about the movies they were going to make together, a sudden insight flashed through Athena’s mind: “If I have to listen to this guy one more minute, I will kill myself.” Like many kind people exasperated into being unkind, she went all the way. Knowing she would feel guilty, she made it a package. In that moment, she told Kevin that not only would she not marry him, but she would not sleep with him anymore and that also she would not appear in his movie.
Kevin was stunned. “We have a contract,” he said. “And we’ll enforce it. You are betraying me in every way.”
“I know,” Athena said. “Just talk to Melo.” She was disgusted with herself. Of course, Kevin was right, but she found it interesting that he was more worried about his movies than his love for her.
It was after this affair, her film career assured, that Athena lost interest in men. She remained celibate. She had more important things to do, things in which the love of men had no part.
Athena Aquitane and Claudia De Lena became close friends solely because Claudia was persistent in her pursuit of friendship with women she liked. She first met Athena while rewriting the script of one of her early movies, when Athena was not quite yet a great star.
Athena insisted on helping her with the script, and although this was usually a scary process for the writer, she proved to be intelligent and a great help. Her instincts on character and story were always good and nearly always unselfish. She was intelligent enough to know that the stronger the characters around her, the more she would have to play with in her own role.
They often worked in Athena’s home in Malibu, and it was there they discovered they had many things in common. They were athletes: strong swimmers, top amateur golfers, and very good on the tennis court. The two of them played doubles together and beat most of the male doubles on the Malibu Beach tennis courts. So when the picture finished shooting, they continued their friendship.
Claudia told Athena everything about herself. Athena told Claudia little. It was that kind of friendship. Claudia recognized this but it didn’t matter. Claudia told of her affair with Steve Stallings. Athena laughed delightedly and they compared notes. They agreed, yes, Steve had been great fun, great in bed. And so talented, he was a marvelously gifted actor and a really sweet man.
“He was almost as beautiful as you,” Claudia said. She generously admired beauty in others.
Athena seemed not to have heard. It was a habit she had when somebody mentioned her beauty.
“Is he a better actor though?” Athena said teasingly.
“Oh no, you’re a really great actor,” Claudia said. And then to provoke Athena into revealing more of herself, she added, “But he’s a lot happier person than you.”
“Really?” Athena said. “That may be. But someday he will be a hell of a lot unhappier than I ever will be.”
“Yeah,” Claudia said. “The cocaine and booze will get him. He’s not going to age well. But he’s intelligent, maybe he’ll adapt.”
“I don’t ever want to become what he’s going to be,” Athena said. “And I won’t.”
“You’re my hero,” Claudia said. “But you’re not going to beat the aging process. I know you don’t drink and booze or even fool around much but your secrets will get you.”
Athena laughed. “My secrets will be my salvation,” she said. “My secrets are so banal they’re not even worth telling. We movie stars need our mystery.”
Every Saturday morning when they were not working, they went shopping together on Rodeo Drive. Claudia was always amazed at how Athena could disguise herself so that she would not be recognized by fans or the clerks in the stores. She wore a black wig and loose clothes to disguise her figure. She changed her makeup so her jaw seemed to be thicker, her lips fuller, but most interesting of all, it seemed as if she could rearrange the features on her face. She also wore contact lenses that changed her brilliant green eyes to a demure hazel. Her voice became a soft Southern drawl.
When Athena bought something, she put it on one of Claudia’s charge cards and then reimbursed her with a check when they had their late lunch. It was wonderful to relax in a restaurant as complete nobodies; as Claudia joked, no one ever recognized a screenwriter.
Twice a month Claudia spent the entire weekend at Athena’s Malibu beach house for swimming and tennis. Claudia had let Athena read the second draft of Messalina, and Athena had asked for the lead role. As if she were not a top star and Claudia should not be begging her.
So when Claudia arrived in Malibu to persuade Athena to go back to work on the picture, she felt some hope for success. After all, Athena would not only ruin her own career but damage Claudia’s.
The first thing that shook Claudia’s confidence was the tight security around Athena’s house, in addition to the usual guards at the Malibu Colony gates.
Two men with Pacific Ocean Security Company uniforms were at the gate of the house itself. Two additional guards patrolled the huge garden inside. When the little South American housekeeper led her to the Ocean Room, she could see two more guards on the beach outside. All the guards had batons and holstered guns.
Athena greeted Claudia with a tight hug. “I’ll miss you,” she said. “In a week I’ll be gone.”
“Why are you being so crazy?” Claudia said. “You’re going to let some jerk of a macho man ruin your whole life. And mine. I can’t believe you’re so chicken. Listen, I’ll stay with you tonight and tomorrow we’ll get gun permits and start training. In a couple of days we’ll be sharpshooters.”
Athena laughed and gave her another hug. “Your Mafia blood is coming out,” she said. Claudia had told her about the Clericuzio and her father.
They made drinks and sat in the stuffed chairs that gave them a view of the ocean that was like looking at some deep blue-green portrait of water.
“You can’t change my mind and I’m not chickenshit,” Athena said. “Now, I’ll tell you the secret you wanted to know and you can tell the Studio and then maybe you’ll both understand.”
Then she told Claudia the whole story of her marriage. Of Boz Skannet’s sadism and cruelty and deliberate humiliation and of her running away. . . .
With her astute, storyteller mind, Claudia felt there was something missing in Athena’s story, that she was deliberately leaving out some important elements.
“What happened to the baby?” Claudia asked.
Athena’s features arranged themselves into a movie-star mask. “I can’t tell you anything more about that right now, in fact what I did tell you about me having a baby is just between you and me. That’s the one part you mustn’t tell the Studio. I trust you with that.”
Claudia knew she couldn’t press Athena on this. “But why are you quitting the picture?” Claudia asked. “You’ll be protected. Then you can disappear.”
“No,” Athena said. “The Studio will only protect me while the picture’s shooting. And that won’t matter. I know Boz. Nothing will stop him. If I stay, I’ll never finish the picture anyway.”
At that moment they both noticed a man in bathing trunks walking up from the water to the house. The two security guards intercepted him. One of the guards blew a whistle and the two guards in the garden came running around. With the odds at four to one, the man in the bathing trunks seemed to retreat slightly.
Athena was standing up, obviously shaken. “It’s Boz,” she said to Claudia quietly. “He’s doing this just to scare me. It’s not his real move.” She went out onto the deck and looked down at the five men. Claudia followed her.
Boz Skannet looked up at them, his eyes squinting, his bronzed face painted by the sun. His body, in the bathing trunks, looked lethal.
He smiled and
said, “Hey, Athena, how about inviting me in for a drink?”
Athena gave him a brilliant smile. “I would if I had poison. You’ve broken the court order—I could have you locked up.”
“Nah, you wouldn’t,” Boz said. “We’re too close, we have too many secrets together.” Though he smiled, he looked savage.
Claudia was reminded of the men who came to the Cleri-cuzio feasts in Quogue.
One of the guards said, “He swam around the fence from the public beach. He must have a car there. Or we can have him locked up.”
“No,” Athena said. “Take him to his car. And tell the Agency I want four more guards around my house.”
Boz still had his face tilted up, his body seemed to be a great statue rooted in the sand. “See you, Athena,” he said. And then the guards led him away.
“He is frightening,” Claudia said. “Maybe you’re right. We would have to shoot cannons to stop him.”
“I’ll call you before I flee,” Athena said, making it actressy. “We can have one last dinner together.”
Claudia was almost in tears. Boz had really frightened her, had reminded her of her father. “I’m going to fly to Vegas and see my brother Cross. He’s smart and knows a lot of people. I’m sure he can help. So don’t leave until I come back.”
“Why should he help?” Athena said. “And how? Is he in the Mafia?”
“Of course not,” Claudia said indignantly. “He’ll help because he loves me.” She said this with pride in her voice. “And I’m the only person he really loves except for my father.”
Athena looked at her with a frown. “Your brother sounds just a little shady. You’re very innocent for a woman working in the movies. And, by the way, how come you sleep with so many men? You’re not an actress and I don’t think you’re a tramp.”
“That’s no secret,” Claudia said. “Why do men screw so many women?” Then she hugged Athena. “I’m off to Vegas,” she said. “Don’t move till I get back.”
That night Athena sat on the deck and watched the ocean, black beneath the moonless sky. She went over her plans and thought fondly of Claudia. It was really funny that she could not see through her brother, but that’s what love did.