Darcy in Hollywood

by Victoria Kincaid

  “Apparently there were limits to the friendship. You know the Darcys are real blue bloods. Hollywood royalty descended from a branch of the Vanderbilt family.”

  Elizabeth nodded. Everyone knew that Darcy’s mother was a famous movie star and that his father had been an award-winning director before he retired.

  “I made the fatal mistake of dating Darcy’s sister, Georgiana. We went out for two months in high school, no problem. But then her family found out. They cut off all ties with my parents and threatened legal action if I ever went near Georgiana again. Darcy even punched me.” George rubbed his jaw as if remembering the pain.

  “That’s terrible! Just because you loved his sister?”

  George shrugged. “I guess I wasn’t what his parents had in mind for her.”

  “How did she take it?”

  His mouth twisted. “I don’t really know. I never saw her again. I called her, emailed, texted, but she never responded. I realized later that her parents probably made her change all her accounts. And they took her out of the country; they really wanted to get her away from me. All of this was years ago, though. She’s an adult now. I figure she can get in touch with me, but they must have convinced her that I’m the scum of the earth.”

  “That’s terrible!”

  “Yeah.” He sighed. “Although, it made me a stronger person. And who knows? If they hadn’t done that, I might not have become an EMT, and then I wouldn’t have met you.” He gave her a coy smile.

  She raised an eyebrow. “Are medical personnel supposed to flirt with their patients?”

  “Not usually, but it’s acceptable if they’re exceptionally pretty.” His smile could have coaxed anyone into mischief.

  Elizabeth laughed. “You’re incorrigible!”

  After he checked her vital signs on the monitor, his face grew serious. “I would advise you to stay away from Darcy; he’s not a good person.”

  Elizabeth made a sour face. “I noticed that. Unfortunately, I’ll be a PA on his new movie, so I can’t avoid him altogether.”

  “In the Shadows?”

  “I didn’t realize there was already buzz about it.”

  “Are you kidding? Anything with Darcy. Even after the scandal, his fans are true fanatics. They think he’s a nice guy.” He gave her a knowing look. “Just wait until word gets out that filming has started. Teenage girls will cluster around the studio gates just hoping to get a glimpse of him driving in or out.”

  Elizabeth couldn’t imagine being that attached to someone she didn’t know personally. “Where do people find the time to be obsessive fans? I mean, don’t they have jobs and families? Seriously, I’d need to squeeze in my obsessing between 7:00 and 7:15 a.m.”

  George’s hearty laugh was very gratifying. He wasn’t a Hollywood actor expecting special treatment. She would take a genuine person over a movie fake any day.

  He glanced out the window as the ambulance slowed down. “We’re pulling into the hospital.”

  Elizabeth wriggled around until she could reach the cell phone in her back pocket. “Why don’t you give me your number? I can’t promise anything, but if the casting director is looking for an actor and you fit the part, I’ll put in a good word for you.”

  George’s eyes lit up. “You would do that for me? That’s…wow, I’m so…touched.”

  It was a little thing, but Elizabeth got a warm feeling when she was able to help someone out. “It’s the least I can do. You’re taking pretty good care of me.”

  “I do that. Especially with the pretty ones.” George winked at her just as the ambulance rumbled to a stop.

  ***

  Since Darcy was so late to the reading, there was only one seat available at the conference table—and it was beside Caroline Bingley. She wouldn’t be Darcy’s first choice, but at least she wouldn’t fangirl over him.

  Subconsciously he mapped out a route to the seat that would avoid the maximum number of people, but he wasn't surprised when it proved to be ineffective. First, the costume designer stopped him to set up a time for a fitting. Then an actor wanted to give him a screenplay he’d written—with a part just perfect for Darcy. This happened not infrequently, and Darcy never knew what to do with the screenplays; he didn’t even have time to read the ones his agent sent him.

  Just when he thought his way was clear, Lydia Bennet—apparently still riding the high of meeting him at the scene of a car accident—drifted into his path. “Oh my God! Can I tell you that I am so excited to work on a film with you? I mean, I’ve met Tom Hanks and Leonardo DiCaprio, and I once saw Colin Firth talking on his phone in an airport. But this, this is on a whole different level! I can’t tell you how many times I’ve watched Ramon and Julia! The costume party scene! The first kiss! I just die every time I watch it! I’d love to talk to you and hear the behind-the-scenes stuff. My friends would be so jealous! My sisters will just turn green—I mean envy green, not nausea green. Even my mom… My mom is like your biggest fan—after me, of course—”

  When she finally took a breath, a bit like a soldier pausing to reload a gun, Darcy took ruthless advantage. “I’m happy you liked the movie. Thank you. But I believe the director wants to get started.”

  Lydia batted her eyelashes at him. “Okay. But we’ll have to sit down for a long chat really soon, okay?”

  Not if I can help it. “Of course. We’ll be working together for weeks; there’s no rush.”

  “So true!” Her voice was awed as if he had uttered a pearl of great wisdom.

  Darcy hurried to his seat before anyone else told him how much they loved Ramon and Julia. The truth was, he hated talking about that movie. It had catapulted him from a B-list to a mega A-list star who could command millions for each movie. (Surely he would be able to do so again once the scandal had passed.) But he hadn’t wanted to make the movie, didn’t like it, and never wanted to watch it again.

  Darcy had become an actor because he wanted the challenge of meaty dramatic roles. The jazzed-up, kitschy Romeo and Juliet knockoff had taken Shakespeare’s plot but none of the bard’s brilliant language or in-depth characterization. The movie had been set in Manhattan, where the feuding families owned competing corporations and the star-crossed lovers went to rival private schools.

  Josh, Darcy’s agent, had convinced him to do it because he believed—correctly—that it would raise his profile. But Darcy had barely been able to utter some of the cliched, over-the-top dialogue without laughing or choking. It hadn’t helped that the costar playing Julia had been jealous of Darcy’s success. When they weren’t on screen, she had treated him like a three-day-old baloney sandwich she’d found under the seat of her car. Naturally, the internet had been awash in rumors of an on-set romance, and Darcy had endured endless questions about their “relationship” during the press tour.

  For years afterward, most of the screenplays Josh received had been romances—all of which Darcy rejected. He didn’t want to get pigeonholed, pandering to teen girl fantasies. Fortunately, he was a little too old now to play a teenager, so at least they had stopped sending him screenplays set in high schools, but sugary romances still poured in.

  He was grateful to Ramon and Julia for juicing his career, but it had created an impression he’d been trying to overcome for years. As Lydia’s reaction demonstrated, it wasn’t easy.

  There were about twenty-five people around the conference table, mostly actors with speaking parts. Tom and another producer sat at the head of the table, and some of the production crew occupied chairs against the walls. The director, Roberta Perez, sat beside Tom. Darcy had shaken her hand upon arrival. Although she hadn’t made a lot of big-budget movies, Darcy had admired her films for years and was thrilled to be working with her; she was notoriously picky about her actors.

  Darcy would be playing Dr. Eric Thorne, a straight-laced ER doc and recovering alcoholic who encounters Jordan, a transsexual teenage girl who arrives at the hospital badly beaten. As Thorne helps her with her recovery, he overcomes his pre
judices and fights to get Jordan the treatment she needs during her transition. At the end of the movie, he’s able to convince Jordan to testify against the guys who beat her and helps establish her in a new life.

  The screenplay was filled with complex drama that Darcy could sink his teeth into, and Perez’s involvement had provided added incentive. The writing was crisp, and the pacing kept the movie bumping along. But he still had reservations about the script. Personally, he often found the story…tiresome, full of noble people trying hard to do the right thing and talking earnestly about their emotions.

  Yeah, audiences ate that stuff up with a spoon, but it was all so…fake. Nobody in the real world cared so much or talked that way. Hell, you were lucky if anyone in your family gave a shit. Just look at the way Elizabeth Bennet’s family had treated her. But movies weren’t supposed to be real, were they?

  Darcy had originally planned to turn the movie down. The script was too treacly, the subject matter too controversial. And it was an indie production that would only pay him industry scale. The French Resistance movie had been big-budget and prestigious—with Oscar written all over it. Darcy had received Best Actor nominations twice; he wanted to win.

  Then Palm Springs had happened. The part in the spy movie had gone to Bradley Cooper, who was all wrong for it. Other offers had dried up. Josh said he should be grateful that In the Shadows, the little indie picture, still wanted him.

  Grateful!

  It was a bitter pill to swallow. Not as bitter as the weekly drug tests, though. What an indignity—when he had never done anything more than a little weed in college. But the drug tests were necessary for the movie’s insurance coverage, and Darcy couldn’t object without revealing more than he wanted, so he would have to live with it.

  Darcy hadn’t really worked in the year since Palm Springs, and he knew Josh was right when he said this was his chance to demonstrate how he was a sober, serious-minded actor who showed up at the set on time and turned in a great performance. In another year or two, hopefully the stigma would fade, and the big studios would notice his terrific performances in movies like In the Shadows.

  At least I’m working, he reminded himself. If he didn’t do this movie, it would only confirm Darcy’s status as box office poison.

  Of course, crashing his car on the first day probably hadn’t been the best way to show everyone he’d turned over a new leaf. Stupid stereo.

  As everyone waited for the read to start, the room was filled with a general buzz of conversation. Caroline leaned toward Darcy’s chair, flipped a long lock of straight, pale blonde hair out of her face, and drawled in his ear. “I wouldn’t be doing this movie without you.”

  Darcy shrugged. Very likely the movie wouldn’t get made without him. “I’m glad you’re on board,” he said neutrally. It wasn’t a lie. Caroline might not be his favorite person, but she was a good actress and was well-suited to the part of his love interest.

  She lowered her voice, although the noise level meant it was unlikely anyone could overhear. “The script is a bit…sweet for my taste.”

  He nodded his agreement but didn’t say anything. He requested a few alterations to make it less sentimental, but there was nothing he could do about the essential sweetness at the movie’s core.

  “I mean,” Caroline continued, “people don’t behave like that in real life. Ultimately everyone is out for themselves.”

  Darcy didn’t disagree. Hollywood loved to make movies about selfless do-gooders, but the town itself was full of competitive, grasping people. Such was life; you didn’t get anywhere if you didn’t have sharp elbows. In a way it was comforting to have someone else confirm his impression of the story.

  But the screenplay was good, even brilliant in places, and addressed a timely topic. Audiences would love it—at least Darcy thought so. Tom and Roberta hadn’t treated him like he was radioactive, so he was happy to stand behind them.

  “My agent thinks it has Oscar potential,” Darcy said.

  Caroline made a face. “Of course, it does! People love a good sob story. It might even give me a Best Supporting nod. Off the B-list and onto the A-list.”

  That was one difference between them. They were equally cynical about the movie business, but he cared about critical acclaim. He wanted to be proud of his work and craved admiration from people who recognized difficult acting challenges. Caroline only sought fame and fortune.

  Whenever Darcy started sensing a kinship with Caroline, he shied away. A bit like touching a frog, it left him feeling slimy and disgusted. She represented everything Darcy didn’t like about Hollywood: the fakery, the jockeying for position, the shallowness, the fixation on appearance. Closing in on thirty, she was already talking about plastic surgery.

  Finally, a hush fell, and Tom Bennet welcomed everyone to the table read of In the Shadows. The producer launched into a rambling speech that referenced his past films such as The Zombie Ate My Homework and Captain Succotash, a movie with the tagline “The world’s tastiest superhero.”

  Darcy didn’t appreciate the reminders. Bennet was a bit of a Hollywood anomaly. A prolific director of B movies, he was a positive genius at raising money; he somehow always inspired others to open their wallets for whatever film he was making. What he didn’t have was talent. His movies, mostly cheap horror flicks, tended to be hack jobs that earned both cult followings and the scorn of critics.

  But In the Shadows was a very different kind of movie, and Bennet would be producing, not directing. Darcy wasn’t sure how Bennet had become attached to a serious indie project, but the man’s daughter, Jane, would be playing Jordan, the other lead. No doubt, once Roberta Perez and Darcy himself were attached, funding had proven to be a lot easier.

  Finally Bennet’s ramblings petered out. It was curious that the man was so good at raising money—or anything, really. With his perpetually rumpled suits and vague expressions, he always resembled someone who had wandered into the wrong place.

  Fortunately, Perez spoke next. Her comments were as incisive and on point as Bennet’s had been diffuse and confusing, reminding Darcy why the movie might succeed. She mentioned the importance of the subject, the timeliness of the theme, and how many moviegoers would empathize with the main characters. By the end of her speech, Darcy was more enthusiastic about the project.

  The next step was to have each person at the table introduce him or herself. Darcy focused his attention on each speaker, attempting to ignore the stares of starstruck actors. Ugh. It was bad enough to encounter such reactions at the coffee shop or airport, but from his fellow actors? Didn’t they have any self-respect?

  Jane Bennet spoke. Slender and wide-eyed, she was perfect for the role of Jordan. Young enough to make a convincing teenager, she had her blonde hair in a pixie cut that emphasized her gamine qualities and suggested androgyny. Darcy hadn’t worked with her before, although she had graduated from Yale Drama School a year after he had.

  Caroline, however, listened to Jane’s quiet words with a curled lip. She leaned toward Darcy, helping herself to one of his armrests. “Mousy doesn’t begin to describe her,” she said sotto voce in his ear. “I don’t know if she can carry this picture.”

  Darcy hid his annoyance. He’d seen Jane Bennet’s movies; she had serious acting chops, although this would be her biggest role by far. “I’m looking forward to working with her,” he murmured, shifting his weight away from Caroline.

  But he jumped when a toe touched his calf. Damn it! Caroline was running her sandal-clad foot along his leg, under his pants. Giving her a sidelong glare, Darcy cleared his throat meaningfully, but she just smirked at him. Sliding his leg out of range, he made a show of focusing his attention on the introductions.

  Charlie Bingley was speaking. With a perpetually innocent expression, endearingly crooked nose, and shaggy blond hair, Charlie was a fellow Hollywood heartthrob, although he hadn’t quite reached Darcy’s level of stardom. He also happened to be Caroline’s brother, but Darcy tried not to ho
ld that against the guy; the truth was that the siblings didn’t have much in common.

  Charlie was great fun, with an almost instinctive knowledge of the best Los Angeles clubs and the hottest Hollywood parties. Privately, Darcy thought his friend’s acting skills could use a little…polishing; he didn’t have Darcy’s level of classical training, and it showed.

  “I’m playing Stuart Nickels, the caring but bumbling director of the homeless shelter where Jordan stays.” Charlie’s smile revealed his trademark dimples. “I assure you that any caring I manage to demonstrate is completely due to the script while all the bumbling is likely to be my own.”

  Everyone laughed, charmed as always by Charlie’s aw-shucks demeanor and self-deprecating wit. The guy sometimes suffered from actor-itis: the almost pathological compulsion to have other people notice him. That had never been Darcy’s problem—he was happy to do his job and go home at the end of the day—but the affliction was surprisingly common in Hollywood.

  Lydia Bennet introduced herself with a great deal of hair flipping and giggling—and a thorough recitation of every movie she had ever appeared in, devoting much time to her “greatest achievement”: a bit part in her father’s recent movie, My Hovercraft is Full of Eels.

  “I’ve been rehearsing my lines for In the Shadows,” Lydia announced with a smile in Darcy’s direction. He did not return it; every movie set had at least one starlet who thought the way to fame was through his bed. “I think it’s vitally important to try out different line readings in advance.” She assumed a very solemn expression—presumably getting into character—and intoned, “That will be $17.50,” closely followed by, “We don’t sell meatloaf.” The earnest “emotion” in her voice required Darcy to hide a smile.

  With the exception of Jane Bennet, the entire family seemed completely devoid of talent—or even common sense.

  Then it was Darcy’s turn to introduce himself. “I’m William Darcy, playing Eric Thorne, and I’m looking forward to working on this project.” No other introduction was necessary. He didn’t need to be witty or charming or self-deprecating; they all knew who he was.