The Ayatollah's Money
Page 66
Chapter 66 - Laleh and Shim
When the entire team was in place with all roles assigned, and after the collision of the team and the assassins, Gwen had set the date of opening night - five weeks away. It then had taken Sody two weeks to work out his methods of alternating the filming and the stage play, at which point the process was humming. During those two weeks Shim had been working furiously, sitting up in the balcony, learning to produce rough copy of the screenplay. There was nothing polished about the Kind of Blue method Sody had implemented, and they winged it every day. Then, with two weeks to go until opening night, both Gwen and Roger realized everyone was toasted from working sixteen hours days without a break, and they had to give the team a day off. One, that was it.
When they got home at 9pm, Shim’s mind mush from the pressure of creative output, he said, “What do you want to do tomorrow?”
Laleh thought for a minute and said, “Water. I want to be outside, all day. Can we get a boat and stay out on the water? Tomorrow night too? Then go back to The Hall early the next morning? I want to be away from rooms and computers and music and people. If you had a desert nearby, I’d want to go out there for the day; sleep out in the dunes; get away from it all. But here, out on the water would be great.”
So Shim made that happen early the next morning. He chartered a small cruiser, telling the owner he wanted it anchored out in the harbor on the back side of Fort Sumter. They brought tote sacks of food and wine and a few other essentials down to the marina, and the owner motored the boat out to the place, trailing a dingy behind. He dropped the anchor, hopped in the dingy, and said he’d see them tomorrow at 8am.
It was just what they needed; time together and away from everything and everyone. They sat in captain's chairs on the flying bridge, put their feet up on the console, closed their eyes, let the breeze blow across their faces, and the decompression began. After a half hour, Laleh said, “What are you going to do when the show is over?”
Shim opened his eyes and looked at her, her almost black hair just touching the tops of her bare shoulders, her dark eyes looking at him with a relaxed intensity. God, what a face. What was he going to do? He hadn’t thought about that over the last weeks, having little brainpower available for anything except the writing. He didn’t want to think about it now; he didn’t want to think about anything; he just wanted to relax. But his feelings came up with her question, and they told him a lot. He answered her simply and immediately. “I want to stay with you. I’m in love with you, and want to be with you when the show is done. I don’t have a clue what I’ll do, but I want it to be with you.” And he smiled at her.
Hearing what he said, she closed her eyes and let her head lean against the high back of the canvas chair. She didn’t want to think the thought that came to her, and she didn’t want to say the words that came to her, but she had to. “What about the guys? They’re going to do something. They have to. They were ordered here, and they’re serious. I can’t know about the future with them around. Our future. What we’re going to do.”
Shim found it interesting that he didn’t share her worry. It was interesting because he knew he wasn’t a tough guy. Being self-confident is not the same thing as being emotionally tough; engaging in and staring down conflict. Basically he was a wuss writer who lived vicariously through his characters and stories. He let his thoughts float, and it took him only a few seconds to know why he wasn’t worried. He dropped his feet from the console to the deck, leaned forward and put a hand on her knee. He said, “I’m not going to tell you not to worry, because that would deny your emotions. What I can do is tell you why I’m not worried about those guys. It’s because of the Junes. You’ve only known then for a few months. I’ve known them for a long time, and one of the most important things to them are their friends. Their friends love them, and they love their friends. We’re their friends, and they’ll take care of us. It’s as simple as that. You got a taste of that when the idiots came into The Hall. Jesus, they had three guns on them in the blink of an eye, and if they’d done anything more stupid than shooting Gale with the needle, they'd be dead. Understand that. The Junes can do that sort of stuff. I can’t, but they can. And Jinny’s with them. He and Roger are watching you all the time.” He stopped talking and took her hand. “When I told Roger we were going out here in a boat, he said Jinny would come with us. I told him, ‘no way,’ we want to be alone. I had to fight with him. He said, ok, one day.” He kissed her hand. “I’m not telling you not to feel worried, but I am telling you I have faith in them to take care of the situation. They will, one way or another. And when the show is over, we’ll figure out what we’re going to do. I just know I want to be with you.”
When Laleh had hovered her finger over the mouse button six months earlier in her apartment in Tehran, she knew that if she clicked it, her life would change. And she had done that, bathed in an impression that whatever happened would be an improvement in her life, and a sense that she could manage whatever it was that transpired. And here she was, in the United States, working with a great film director, some fun actors, the Junes and Shim, on a wild artistic project. The sense of confidence she had in her apartment as she debated whether to click or not had not taken into account the possibility of having three Guard Elite Assassination Corps soldiers on her ass, though, because she thought she would be able to cover her tracks completely.
Closing her eyes again and thinking of what Shim had said, feeling the gentle rocking of the boat, visualizing Gwen pulling her gun from under her jacket and assuming the shooters stance in front of assassins, all assuaged her feelings of worry. She let them slide down her back and into the waters of the harbor, replacing them with thoughts and feelings of Shimmey. Nestled within all the craziness surrounding her now was the knowledge that she was in love with him. Nice. She decided she thought him being a writer was a good thing, and was something she wanted to be part of. And she also knew she liked watching Sody do his thing as director. Day in and day out he made things out of nothing, and that was a new world for her.
It was 3pm when she said, “How many bottles of wine did we bring? Do you think they’ll be able to tell if we show up at work tomorrow with hangovers?” Shim smiled at her, and she said, “If one of those idiots shoots me in the boob with a needle, will you kiss it and make it better?”
Shim nodded.