Second Chance Reunion

by Irene Vartanoff

  Leona was as good as her word. Twenty-five minutes later, a four-wheel drive vehicle came barreling down the road.

  The window rolled down. Lucas was at the wheel.

  “Get in,” he called. He didn’t turn off the motor.

  She ran down from her shady spot under the ledge.

  “Thanks,” she said, climbing into the front passenger seat. “What should we do about the Jeep?”

  “You have the keys?”

  “Yes.”

  “Let’s get the hell out of here.” He turned the utility vehicle around and drove madly back up the road.

  Sara struggled to attach her seat belt buckle, which felt very necessary the way Lucas was driving. When a sharp turn practically threw her into the windshield, she said, “Could you take it easy?”

  Lucas turned an angry face on her. “You made me revisit the place where Jennifer died. Do you think I care if you’re a little uncomfortable with my driving style?”

  She stiffened. “I’m very sorry. Leona didn’t need to trouble you.”

  “What the hell were you doing there?”

  She sent him an exasperated look. “Trying to get a handle on the location shoot. You’d make my job a lot easier if you told me what you got in the can the last day of filming.”

  “Who remembers? It was a day from hell.”

  “Of course you remember whether all the scenes were shot before the crane shot. As far as I can tell, there are no other scenes that required that particular location.”

  “Why should I bother to tell you anything about Desert Wind? It’s a dead project, as dead as Jennifer is.” He didn’t look at her. His eyes were trained on the dusty road.

  “George wants it finished before he dies. What do you have against that?”

  Lucas slammed on the brakes, sending her toward the windshield. Her seatbelt jerked her to a stop, but her head bobbed forward and back painfully.

  “Why don’t you butt out of what doesn’t concern you?” he yelled. “Why don’t you leave it alone?”

  Her nerves tightened in the face of his titanic anger but she made herself speak. “I want you to be happy.”

  “You’ve got a hell of a nerve. You don’t know me at all.” He threw open the driver’s door and jumped down. Then he took off into the desert brush at a lope.

  “Where are you going?” she called. He didn’t answer. Within seconds he had vanished into the scrubby terrain.

  Now what? Should she call Leona again? Was he gone for good or would he return, no longer hot under the collar, in a few minutes?

  Lucas had been furious from the moment he arrived at the fatal spot. He could have sent someone else. Instead, he came to rescue her, but he was mad at her over it. Was it possible he didn’t know in advance exactly where she was stranded? No, she’d told Leona, assuming that any local would be familiar with the place where a famous movie star died, which would make it easier for the tow truck.

  Lucas had left his door open, and the desert heat poured into the vehicle. She reached over to try to close it. No good. She’d have to get out and go around. When she did, she spotted a snake in the road in front, coiled and upset with their approach. Very carefully and slowly, almost tiptoeing, she walked around the rear of the Jeep to close the driver’s door. After she accomplished her task, she hurried back to her side. The snake was in the same spot. She climbed up and slammed her door. Safe, for now.

  If she left New Mexico having failed, Lucas might never recover the will to resume using his brilliant talent. George would die balked of his last wish. And she would be stuck in the past, still hopelessly in love with a man who might never love her. She needed to finish this film and get on with her life just as much as Lucas did.

  It was hot with both doors closed. Had Lucas left his keys, so she could turn on the motor and get some AC? No, that would be too convenient.

  Their angry exchange had taken them partway to his house, but they were still on a dirt road that looked as if it was seldom used. Was Lucas coming back? Where else was there to go? When he did return, she must press him again to finish Desert Wind. Being in the vehicle together was an opportunity to convince Lucas to cooperate. She must use every chance she got, no matter how angry she made him.

  It was stifling in here. She couldn’t crack the window without the keys. She didn’t want to open the door, because the snake might decide to investigate. Who threw an angry fit in the middle of a desert? How mature was that?

  Finally, she couldn’t bear it any longer. She opened her door and leaned out. The snake had vanished from the road, but it could be nearer. It could be under the vehicle, sliding up to check out the heat of the motor. She slammed the door shut.

  This was worse than when she was stuck at the location site. There, she’d had freedom of movement. Here, she was a prisoner. She could never live in a place with dangerous animals around. How did Lucas stand it?

  His door opened and he hopped in. “It’s a million degrees in here.”

  “I’d noticed,” she said, trying to keep the sarcasm out of her tone.

  “Oh, yeah. I had the keys. Sorry.” His tone was unrepentant.

  He started the engine and the AC went full blast, cooling off her body but not her emotions. Once he set the vehicle in motion she asked, “How far are we from any habitation?”

  “Maybe ten miles.”

  She asked no further questions for the next fifteen minutes. Lucas drove silently, but like a bat out of hell. She didn’t complain about the constant jolting, or the wild turns and swerves he made, biding her time. After they turned into the dirt road that she recognized led to his house, she asked, “How far are we from your home right now?”

  “About two miles. Why?”

  “In case you decide to abandon me again, I don’t want to stifle to death in a hot vehicle waiting for you to return. I’ll take my chances walking.”

  “You made me furious. I had to cool off.” He looked rigidly ahead, not at her.

  “I’m trying to do my job.”

  “I don’t have to answer to you.”

  “Maybe not to me,” she said, and sighed. “But in a contest between you and George for stubborn determination to get your way, I’d bet on George.”

  “Not if the big C gets him first.”

  She sucked in a shocked breath. “That’s a cruel thing to say.”

  She struggled with the seatbelt, slewing her body around as fully as she could to face him. “Do you plan to drag your feet over Desert Wind until George dies? Is that your strategy?”

  “You come here demanding I wrench my life around, for what? George’s ego? That film was DOA five years ago, just as Jennifer was.”

  “Ignoring unfinished business—”

  “Will not end my alienation from my former life.”

  “But it’s a start, don’t you see?” She was practically begging.

  Lucas drew up to the front door. “I’ll arrange for a tow truck for your Jeep,” he said as he opened his door. He turned back to look at her. His eyes held a message she could not interpret. “Tonight we’ll deal with the unfinished business between us.”

  She shivered. What did he mean?

  ***

  After she took a cooling shower, she spent the rest of the afternoon exploring the house and trying not to think about Lucas's last words to her. More push back, perhaps. Or something else?

  Most of the house followed the clean lines of its mid-century modern origin, but in the library, parquet floors and hand-carved dark oak wainscoting were incongruous style choices. The style was strictly late nineteenth century tycoon, with over-the-top ornamentation, dark colors, and massive tables and chairs. The only missing items were the ferns, potted palms, and velvet draperies of that era. Instead, the corners of the room and the window seats were filled with stacks of books. She started reading one of the film texts in Lucas's vast collection.

  She snapped the book shut. It was a luxury to while away an hour reading, one she shouldn’t indu
lge in. Before her next meeting with him, she should marshal more arguments. What other line of reasoning could she attempt? She didn’t want to mention Jennifer Barnes, not at all. Yet the dead Hollywood icon was the lynchpin of this fool’s errand.

  Jennifer Barnes had been utterly beautiful, and famous for being famous. She acted in romcoms and other lightweight fare. She’d been extremely popular in her own plastic part of the movie business. Desert Wind was to have been her first foray into serious acting. Hollywood historians now likened her to Marilyn Monroe, the sex symbol who chose to act in intense dramas after she married an important playwright. Desert Wind was Jennifer Barnes's big moment. Ironically, dying so young had cemented her lost career potential. Especially since no one saw what kind of performance she had given in Desert Wind.

  Probably lame. That woman never had the moral depth to give to a serious film role. Sara itched to get her hands on the film and see for herself. It had to be a travesty. Lucas probably knew that, which was why he didn’t want to finish the film.

  Like many Hollywood projects, Desert Wind took years to come together. In the meantime, Jennifer Barnes's marriage to auteur director Lucas ran its course. She left him for a high-profile affair with David Connor. Lucas divorced her, but she’d been signed to act in Desert Wind. The financing depended on her famous name being attached to the project. She insisted a lead role be given to her lover. At the time, David Connor’s career was just beginning. She’d threatened to pull out unless he was cast. Despite Lucas's top reputation in the film industry, he couldn’t get enough backing to do his project without his two-timing ex-wife to headline it. And her lover. He was stuck with them both.

  Filming at the Hollywood studio did not go well. Rumors of screaming matches on set hit the gossip sites. Jennifer Barnes created commotions, delaying completion of the project. She played on Lucas's jealousy. With only fifty percent of the film shot and tempers already out of control, the entire crew packed up to live under pressure-cooker conditions on a location shoot in New Mexico.

  No one in the crew knew much about New Mexico, and even if they had, they wouldn’t have paid any attention. Weather was always a problem on location shoots. Their job was to get in, get the scenes shot as quickly as possible, and leave. As a result, they ignored the ominous signs of strong winds.

  So much for lolling around reading. She’d long since set the film textbook on a library table while she paced and thought. She took another turn of the length of the library. Why was she waiting for Lucas to change his mind? She must push forward on this project, for his sake and for the sake of her own sanity.

  How many years had she been in love with Lucas? It couldn’t go on like this forever. She wasn’t a naïve child anymore. She was a grown woman who wanted to live a full life as a woman. She had a chance with Lucas right now. She must take it. She exited the library and went in search of him.

  Chapter 6

  By dinner that evening, she knew Lucas was deliberately avoiding her. She’d looked all over the house for him. A few doors remained closed, but when Sara knocked on one, she only found Leona, polishing a mirror. The housekeeper shrugged when Sara asked where Lucas was. Once Sara gave up and entered the dining room, Lucas appeared.

  “Did you go outside in the heat again this afternoon?” she asked.

  “I had some business in town,” he said, with a shrug.

  “Isn’t the nearest town fifty miles from here?”

  “I went north. That town is a hundred miles away.” His bland indifference to her reaction practically dared her to make a fuss.

  Once again, conversation lapsed as Leona served them a lavish meal. The food was high-end Hollywood catering style, healthy vegetables undercooked enough to retain color and crunch, and fish lightly sautéed but not battered. Sara made small talk for a few minutes, to which Lucas replied offhandedly.

  Did he plan to ignore why she was here dining with him? Did he expect her to meekly hang around doing nothing, being an unwelcome house guest—a guest only because George had arranged it? Lucas knew the nearest motel was two hours’ drive away. If she left his house now, she wouldn’t come back. She’d return to California. But she couldn’t give up. George was counting on her.

  Finally, she nerved herself to try again. “Lucas, what portion of Desert Wind remains to be filmed?”

  His expression darkened. “You had to bring that up, didn’t you?”

  “I’m here to do a job, not wander around your home aimlessly.” To soften her words, she splayed her hands in an apologetic gesture.

  Lucas looked down his nose at her. “Do you seriously expect me to talk about my dead wife?”

  “Not if you don’t want to.” She reached a hand toward his across the table, then withdrew it without touching him. “If you’ll allow me access to the work print and the dailies, I won’t involve you unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

  He snorted. “I was the director. Of course my input is needed.”

  “If you adhered closely to George’s script,” she countered, “I can use a copy as my guide.”

  “What if I made changes as I went?”

  Was he suggesting that in Desert Wind he’d veered from his usual directorial habits? “Did you try an experimental approach on this film?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “Who remembers? Maybe.”

  Was his reluctance to unearth it because he knew the film was inferior compared to his others? “If you give me your copy of the shooting script, I’ll check it against the work print.”

  “No.” Lucas stood. He walked toward the door.

  She hurriedly got up from the table and followed. “Lucas, please let me look at the dailies.”

  He turned to face her so suddenly she nearly skidded to a stop. They were very close. The light from the hall illuminated one side of his face, but the rest was in shadow. He studied her.

  “You of all people,” he reached out a hand and gently pushed her hair off her cheek toward her ear, “you know what I suffered. Why bring it up again?”

  “Because then maybe you’ll get over her,” she croaked, finding it difficult to get the words out. She waited for his fingers to touch her lips.

  His hand stilled. “I’ll never get over Jennifer.”

  He dropped his hand and took a step back.

  Suddenly, she was angry. How dare he tease her like this? Raise her desire for him only to distract himself from the memory of a woman who had betrayed him?

  “Never is a long, hard time,” she said, not even trying to hide the bitterness in her voice. She turned away and walked down the corridor toward her bedroom.

  ***

  He might as well have stabbed her in the gut with a dinner knife. She couldn’t take any more right now, yet they’d hardly spoken. When would Lucas open his eyes and admit that he’d wasted his love on Jennifer Barnes? When would he start his life again, look for new challenges and work toward new goals?

  In her room, she called George to report on her lack of progress. To whine.

  George wasn’t interested. “Convince Lucas to finish this film.”

  “I’m trying.”

  “My time is running out. Try harder.”

  “Do you have the shooting script for Desert Wind?”

  “Lucas always shoots the writer’s script word for word.”

  “He hinted he might not have this time.”

  George cursed. “If only I hadn’t been in Europe. I would have insisted on seeing the dailies.”

  “Are they all here? Every bit of them?”

  “Lucas dragged everything he shot in LA to New Mexico.”

  “How do I persuade him to let me at his trove of dallies?”

  “Charm him.”

  “Right. Charm a five-year recluse into doing what no amount of money, fame, insurance company muscle, legal action, or anticipated creative satisfaction could do. Not to mention your influence in Hollywood.”

  His hoarse laugh was refreshing to hear. “You’ve only bee
n there one day. Throwing in the towel already?”

  “I’ll find a way,” she said, hoping she could make good on her promise. George in turn promised he’d send her help. All too soon, she was alone again with her thoughts.

  She started to pace, and thought better of it. She wouldn’t lock herself up in this one room all night. She’d find something to take her mind off Lucas. If she could.

  Her guest room was down a corridor that consisted entirely of guest bedrooms. She’d looked into every one of them earlier today. Nothing interesting here.

  She proceeded to the central living area of the house, where she found a room with several comfortable-looking leather couches and a large television screen mounted on the wall. End tables held lamps whose bright light was welcoming. Native American rugs warmed the hardwood floors while giving the room strong color accents. She sank into one of the couches and found a remote. She could have watched on her tablet in her room, but this larger space was more soothing.

  She clicked through numerous channels until she found one relating Hollywood industry news mixed with gossip. To her shock, the host mentioned Desert Wind.

  “Rumor has it that the film, which was shelved after the tragic death of actress Jennifer Barnes, soon will be completed.”

  The screen flashed pictures of Jennifer Barnes, and then David Connor.

  “We asked superstar David Connor if he’d be available for additional shooting. Connor and actress Jennifer Barnes were an item before her tragic death. He had a small role in Desert Wind, before his leap to stardom in Strange Gifts.”

  Footage of David Connor looking golden even in a conventional tux for the Oscars. Footage of Jennifer Barnes. Then of Lucas, first in formal wear and then dressed casually and wearing a ball cap.

  “Reclusive director Lucas Steel could not be reached for comment. An anonymous source has told Celebrity Tonight in an exclusive interview that Lucas has finally decided to resume his brilliant directorial career.”