Smile Number Seven

by Melissa Price

  “Rina?” he said.

  There was a catch in her throat that barely allowed her to utter the words. “Julia’s…leaving.”

  “Leaving?” His face twisted. “Don’t you feel well?”

  Though she answered him, Julia’s teary gaze fell upon Rina. “Right now, I think I’d have to die to feel better.” She turned to Clay. “I’m heading to Malibu to pack some things in my bike bag. I’ll call you to arrange picking up the rest.”

  “You didn’t answer me,” said Rina. “Are you taking the car? I don’t want you upset and riding a motorcycle all the way through the desert at night.”

  “You’re going home?” asked Clay.

  “Best of luck tonight, Rina. You know I’ll always be rooting for you. Someday, when things quiet down, give me a call and tell me I was wrong. You know the number.”

  “Someone better tell me right now what the hell is happening!” said Clay.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Gigi hung up the phone and turned to Rina. “That was Swan. She’s downstairs in the limo, but she said you should take your time.”

  Rina stood before the mirror for a final check, straightening the diamond necklace whose V pointed tastefully toward her cleavage. “I’m so nervous I’m vibrating inside.”

  “Stop scowling,” said Gigi. “You look stunning.”

  Rina turned to her. “Has she called?”

  Gigi shook her head.

  “You would tell me if she had, wouldn’t you, Gigi?”

  “Definitely. Come on, I’ll see you to the limo.” She held the door for the actress, and they entered the penthouse elevator that awaited them. “Clay and I will see you afterward.” She smiled. “I know we’ll be on the edge of our seats right along with you in real time—good luck tonight.”

  “Where is Clay?”

  “He said he had one last errand.”

  Rina drifted to thoughts of Julia riding her motorcycle through the desert at night, then to the memory of how Julia had kissed her goodbye—ending it all so abruptly with a kiss that wasn’t worthy of either of them.

  Gigi gave Rina a final once-over. “Are you all right?”

  “Why did you have to forget to put Julia on the list?”

  “I thought I had. I’m sorry, okay?” Gigi focused on the lit numbers above the elevator door as it descended.

  “Tell the truth,” Rina started. “You’ve had something against her from the start. Why?”

  “Because the more time you spent with her, the more she changed you.”

  “Was that such a bad thing?”

  “You can rehash it later. Right now, it’s time for you to go and have an Oscar-worthy night with your costars, the director, and Swan.”

  The elevator landed. “Now, smile.”

  The elevator door opened.

  “And…entrance.”

  Rina felt every head turn to behold the movie-star-Katarina Verralta as she crossed the lobby. She smiled back at the blur of faces, waved with a gracious “hello” at the cameras.

  The concierge greeted her. “This way, Miss Verralta.” He ushered her through the door from the Roosevelt and opened the limo door. “Good luck tonight,” he smiled.

  “Thank you.” Rina chuckled when she saw Swan’s eager face awaiting her. “Hello, Swan.”

  “Hi, Rina. I can barely keep it together! How are you doing?”

  “I’m a bouillabaisse of emotions from one instant to the next. Worse than the craving for Belgian dark chocolate.”

  “This is so surreal,” said Swan. “I’m nominated, you’re nominated. The film is nominated!”

  “Just to reiterate, we’re not mentioning we met in rehab, right?”

  “Right,” Swan answered. “Besides, I doubt anyone will recognize or want to interview me.”

  The limo pulled forward and took its place in the line to coast to the next block.

  Swan studied her. “Something seems off with you. Are you all right?”

  “No, not really. Julia left me—a few hours ago.”

  “What! Oh, no.”

  Rina nodded and stared out the window.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  Rina turned to her. “Thanks, Swan, but I don’t know how I’m going to do the red carpet interview, let alone fake my way through the ceremony. Will you stand by me tonight?”

  Swan smiled. “Sure. Stay present—and remember what Therapy Brittany taught us about staying in the moment. Nothing happens until you get there.”

  “But we are there.” Rina’s door opened onto the red carpet. She accepted the hand of the young man who offered it and waited for Swan.

  “I can feel the buzz in the air, Rina. I’m so nervous—my heart is racing.” She took a deep breath and forcefully exhaled. “Gotta get rid of these heebie jeebies.”

  Rina let her shoulders fall into position—clicked the internal switch that produced the shine her public expected to see. She heard the voice of interviewer Brandon Coyote as he approached, speaking into his microphone. The camera that followed him broadcast the exchange.

  “The stars are out tonight,” he said. “Here comes Katarina Verralta, looking flawlessly chic.” He extended his arm to welcome her.

  “Why thank you, Brandon!” Rina smiled Red Carpet Smile Number One and returned his air-kiss to her cheek.

  “Congratulations on your tenth nomination, Katarina. A win tonight would be number five on the mantle. Here with you tonight is Swan—the Oscar-nominated screenwriter for your film The Do-Over. Congratulations on your first nomination, Swan. So tell us, where did the name Swan come from?”

  “Actually, Katarina gave me the nickname and it stuck.”

  Brandon pointed the microphone at Rina. “Why Swan?”

  Rina pulled Genuine Chuckle Number Six out of her ass. “Because she was too pretty to be called Duck.”

  Swan laughed. “It’s true, Brandon. I was feeding ducks when we met…”

  “And I have a bad memory for names.” Rina put the issue to bed. Good save, Swan!

  “You look flawless tonight, Katarina—your gown brings back the glamour and magic of classic Hollywood. Who are you wearing?”

  I’m wearing what’s left of Julia all over me. “This is Dior Couture,” she beamed. Rina pivoted to let the camera get its best oblique view of her, allowing the slit over her leg to part.

  “So it was custom-made for you.”

  “Yes.”

  “The V halter neckline, the fabric—gorgeous. And that shade of green makes your eyes look electric.”

  Julia was right—this is my color.

  “Those diamond earrings peeking through your luxurious waves are magnificent, as is that sexy slit on your leg.”

  “Well, thank you, Brandon.” Generic Smile Fourteen—the one with the amused raised eyebrow. “What girl doesn’t love Dior?”

  “Can we get a shot of those shoes?”

  When the camera pointed toward her feet, Rina gently lifted the fabric draped over her leg to reveal her heels with the diamond studs on the ankle strap. The cameraman cut back to Rina’s face.

  “Katarina, what is it you loved about playing this character Dolly in The Do-Over?” the interviewer asked.

  “Her universality. At some point in life I think everyone has the thought: ‘I wonder what would have happened if…’ Dolly gets a chance to pick the one defining moment when she wished she had made a different life choice, and she gets to go back and change it. What Swan brilliantly shows is how everything evolves for Dolly from that moment on. In the end, Dolly surprises everyone, including herself.”

  “I think anyone on a journey of self-discovery can relate to Dolly,” said Brandon.

  “Thank you,” Swan offered graciously.

  “This is certainly a unique film,” said Brandon, “and it’s such a departure from every other role you’ve had. What made you want to play Dolly?”

  “Swan’s portrayal on the page inspired me to want to be Dolly.”

  “In a way she alre
ady is,” Swan interjected. “Meeting Katarina is what inspired the character.”

  “Katarina, I think a lot of people were surprised to see you sign on to an indie non-big budget film,” said Brandon.

  Rina nodded thoughtfully. “Once I read the script, I knew I would be kicking myself forever if I turned it down. I mean, Dolly is so strong and she imparts a unique perspective on life that’s totally relatable. This film’s positive message is that it’s never too late to change, no matter what has happened in the past. But to do that Dolly has to take her biggest risk—believing in herself.”

  “Why do you think people have connected so intensely with this film, Swan?” He pointed the mic at her.

  “Many people are feeling uncertainty about life right now. The Do-Over is, in a way, every person’s journey. We all make mistakes, and I think audiences connect with Dolly’s honesty in admitting she took a wrong turn in life. After facing a mountain of obstacles, Dolly turns it around by doing something she never dreamed she was capable of doing. In that sense, she becomes her own hero.”

  “Can you personally relate to her, Katarina? If you had the chance to go back and change something, would you opt for a do-over?”

  Rina’s face flushed and she fidgeted. Steady. “I would.”

  “Would you like to share what you’d do over?”

  Rina chuckled. “Sorry, you’ll have to wait until I’m old and I write the memoir.”

  Brandon laughed. “Then we’ll leave it right there. Thank you, Katarina Verralta, and Swan—screenwriter for The Do-Over. Good luck tonight.”

  “Thank you, Brandon,” said Swan and Katarina before they walked away.

  “Did I fake it well enough, Swan?” Rina whispered.

  “Fake it? That wasn’t real?” She shook her head. “Damn, you really are a great actress. Devious—but damn good.”

  Chapter Forty-Four

  With a heavy heart, Julia left Rina’s house in Malibu, pointing the motorcycle toward the freeway to head home. She passed the entrance to the interstate and then circled back—three more times—before she abandoned the idea.

  A temperate breeze of late winter mixed with early spring bit her cheeks when she accelerated. She turned onto a boulevard and found herself psychically summoned by the gay gods of West Hollywood. Too distracted for the long ride home, she decided to go to the gay video bar on Santa Monica Boulevard where she was sure the Oscars would be playing on every screen.

  She had resisted the urge to turn on the TV at the house, afraid that if she saw Rina on the red carpet she would break down completely. Now, however, Julia yearned to see the love of her life—needed to root for her favorite star, Katarina Verralta. Needed to know if she would win.

  Julia had second-guessed herself repeatedly about ending the relationship, the gravity of her actions weighing heavily on her. While it was true that she had stood up for herself, she had to think that in doing so she also had taken a stand for Rina and for them as a couple.

  Maybe one day she’ll see it that way, even if it’s too late to do anything about it.

  Although her desire to go back to Rina pulled hard like the force when wind collides with water, she was drowning in a tsunami of emotions that pushed her farther away from her only anchor to all that was good.

  Julia viewed their relationship as a fractured sculpture. Shards that would forever show cracks, no matter how carefully glued in an attempt to make the art appear whole again.

  How long would it take for me to feel imprisoned next time? The time after? She laid rubber and weaved the motorcycle between the cars on Sunset Boulevard the instant the light turned green. She turned off of Sunset onto Larrabee Street and followed it down the hill to Santa Monica Boulevard, where she parked. Julia shook her hair loose from the helmet, letting it spill down over her leather jacket.

  “Hey, pretty lady,” said a wide-eyed millennial as she passed.

  Julia smiled back. She unhooked her saddlebag, latched the helmet to it, and entered Revolver, a video bar. As she had suspected, screens everywhere were broadcasting the Oscars. She ordered a beer, found a seat, and watched the mid-portion of the show, like every other nobody. To her right, two men were discussing the year’s films.

  “Did you see The Do-Over?” said the one closest to her.

  “It was fabulous!” his fake-blond friend answered.

  “I can’t wait to see it. I heard that Katarina Verralta killed it!”

  “She did. I think she should win Best Actress.”

  “Wait—wasn’t she supposed to have been in that other film with Britney Cavell?”

  The blond laughed. “The Big Picture? Yes, but then somehow Emma Thompson wound up playing the part.”

  “Wow, and all three of them are nominated in the Best Actress category!”

  “Rumor has it that Cavell and Verralta had an affair on set. Talk about Hollywood drama.”

  Julia rolled her eyes.

  “Lovers?” said the blond’s friend. “Get outta here. Really? No. I’ve heard stories about Britney Cavell but Verralta’s not gay!”

  Julia sneered, picked up her gear, and found another bar stool as far away as she could. Mesmerized by the big screen over the bar, she watched film clips of Rina and of Britney Cavell—who had become the first person she’d ever despised without ever having met her. The categories crept by, with occasional cutaway shots to Rina laughing at the host’s joke or being a good sport when he picked on her.

  Rina has the perfect expression for everything. In her mind she saw the one she had never seen before today. The You’re Breaking My Heart, Julia. That one—the one that would haunt her forever. Her gut twisted again. This is fucking torture!

  It was long dark by the time the show got closer to announcing the Best Actress category. After that there would only be the last trophy—that of Best Picture—after which Rina would enter the limo to find Julia absent.

  Gigi must be thrilled that I’m out of the picture.

  “Hey, beautiful, can I buy you a beer?” The voice from behind startled her, causing her to teeter on her stool when she whipped around.

  “Clay! What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be getting ready for the limo and the parties…wait. How did you know I’d be here?”

  He took the seat beside her. “I tracked your phone.”

  “You what!”

  “Don’t be mad.”

  “I’m not. I’m impressed. Did Rina send you?”

  He looked into her eyes in earnest. “No, she has no idea that I’m here. She’s devastated, you know.”

  “We both are. For the record, even though my timing sucked, I walked away because I do love her.”

  He scrunched his nose. “I don’t get it.”

  “We can’t go on like this. You shouldn’t have to always be my beard in public. You should see her on the ranch, Clay…”

  “Please. Every time I try to picture Rina on your ranch, I cry from laughter.”

  “She’s so genuine there, and she loves who she really is. She doesn’t love herself here. Instead, she kills any chance of us having a normal healthy relationship and that’s destroying me.”

  “May I?” Clay didn’t wait for Julia to say “yes” before he took a hefty swig of her beer. “Rina’s right about one thing. You are the grown-up in this relationship. Don’t go, Julia. She needs you. Now more than ever.”

  Julia glanced up at the TV and then settled on Clay’s eyes. “She needs this more. It’s done—we can’t have both love and fame the way that things are. No one, not even Rina, wishes harder that it had turned out differently. But the truth is, I don’t exist in her world. At all. I’m invisible. What’s most painful about it is that she is my world.” She killed the last of her beer.

  Clay held out his arm to get the bartender’s attention, pointed to Julia’s beer, and held up two fingers. “Her category is coming up soon.”

  They watched and waited and then waited some more. Finally, the last of the Oscar-nominated songs
was sung and the broadcast went to commercial.

  “Why did you stay, Julia?” Clay took a sip of beer.

  “Because I need to know if she wins.”

  “Will that change anything?” he asked.

  “For her, it will change everything—she deserves that award. Even sweeter to snatch it away from Cavell. I mean, really, after what that woman did to her? It’s so cool that Rina had the guts to leave The Big Picture for The Do-Over.”

  “You were the deciding factor.”

  “What? I was?”

  “Rina couldn’t bear the thought of Britney’s stunts breaking you up. She said she couldn’t go back to Vancouver having you wonder about them being together. She refused to be far away from you.”

  “Really?”

  He nodded. “Then she quit the film. And for you? What changes for you if she wins?”

  Julia shrugged. “I get to leave knowing I held her best interest at heart.”

  “You really are something.”

  “I don’t know about that. I’m a regular girl, deeply in love with a woman who’s way out of my league. Leagues notwithstanding, I believe when you truly love someone, you have to do right by them, no matter the cost.”

  He shook his head and thought for a moment. “You’re worthy of her—she’s worthy of you. Not like Cavell or any of the others. I’ve known Rina for a very long time. You, young lady, are the love of her life.”

  “Here it comes,” she said as she reached for Clay’s hand.

  “Jesus, girl, you have a death grip!”

  “Sorry. I’m nervous.”

  “It’s her hand you should be holding right now, not mine.”

  “In public, I’m more used to holding yours.”

  “Doesn’t she look stunning?” Clay said when the camera cut to Rina.

  “Positively. The most beautiful woman ever created—inside and out.”

  Clay leaned close to her ear. “No one would guess that inside she’s suffering from a broken heart.”

  “Oh, come on, Clay. Don’t do that to me!”

  “And the Oscar for Actress in a Leading Role goes to—” the dramatic pause was excruciating in length “—Katarina Verralta for The Do-Over!”

  Clay and Julia shrieked at the same instant. They hopped off their stools and hugged each other. Julia buried her face in his shoulder and started to cry.