“To live up to my end of the bargain. Maybe this will make up for some of the times I fell short.”
Lila sighed. “You didn’t fall short.”
Cobie shook her head, “I did. In a lot of ways. But thank you for not bringing them all up right now.” Then she leaned in to kiss her softly on the cheek.
“Cobie, please,” Lila whispered.
“Just take care of yourself, okay?”
Lila nodded. That was the whole point, wasn’t it? Everything she’d ever done was to take care of herself. She was the only person up for the job, so she stepped back when all she wanted to do was hold on. She kept silent when she wanted to call out, and she stayed still as Cobie walked out the door, no matter how badly she ached to go after her.
Then she forced herself to turn and walk up the stairs instead of watching out the window as Cobie drove away. She could handle only one thing at a time, and the stairs were all she had to focus on at the moment. Each one felt like her own personal Everest. Her limbs grew heavy and her breath shallow. By the time she reached the second story, she couldn’t imagine climbing another flight, and even if she did, what good could come of sitting in the studio. Love songs weren’t an option for her today. Maybe they never were.
She wandered down the hall, getting only as far as the living room before she could go no farther. She would have preferred to make it all the way to the soft ottoman, but the lethargy cemented her joints, forcing her to ease onto the closest surface. The piano bench was unforgiving, but at least she had to stay upright instead of sinking into full oblivion. She should probably be thankful for the reminder that music never let her down, but right now, music also served as a reminder of everything her career demanded of her.
She sighed heavily and placed her fingers on the keys, then let them go slack. She didn’t even have the energy to tinker. But as she reached up to fold down the music stand, she noticed an envelope resting there. The front read “Lila” in bold, efficient script.
Remembering Cobie’s mention of a peace offering, she slipped her finger under the loosely fastened flap and slowly pulled out the enclosed papers. The first page read,
“Dear Lila, I’m sorry I didn’t always make your job easy. Maybe this will make up for that a little bit. Go ahead and tell people you wrote it about me. I’ll play the bad guy, because believe it or not, I want only the best for you. Cobie.”
Lila flipped to the next page, and her breath caught. She recognized the words as song lyrics even before she read them. The title simply said, “Miss Me.”
You know all the moves,
You know all the right plays
You charm the whole word
With mysterious ways
You know what’s cool
You embody what’s hot
You like what’s hip
And baby, I’m not
So go ahead and move on
Chase the next trend
Go on and see
What’s around the next bend
But you’re gonna miss me
Baby, you know
You’re gonna miss me
After I go
You’re flash and sizzle
You’re sparkle and shine
You’re a star in the sky
That was never really mine
But I’m not what you want
I’m just what you got
You’re looking for chic
And baby, I’m not
So go ahead and move on
Chase the next trend
Go on and see
What’s around that next bend
But you’re gonna miss me
Baby, you know
You’re gonna miss me
After I go
I could’ve fought beside you
Could’ve turned wrong into right
I could’ve held you forever
And stayed strong through the fight
But you’re in fashion
You own every endeavor
And I’m just the one,
Who could’ve loved you forever
So go ahead and move on
Chase the next trend
Go on and see
What’s around that next bend
But you’re gonna miss me
Baby, you know
You’re gonna miss me
After I go.
Lila’s fingers fell on the keys once more. This time, not only did they have the energy to play, they also knew the notes. The melody flew out of her as if the words themselves set the tune. It only took three run-throughs to confirm her fears.
She had her love song.
She could record it. She could make it a hit and sell millions of copies the world over. But could she bring herself to perform it every night knowing full well the song was about her?
She recognized the truth there. She’d claimed to seek it. She’d said she told it, professed to live it in all the places that really mattered. Perhaps that was why she had to go forward. No matter what other choices she’d made in her life, she had always prided herself on always singing the truth. But never before had the truth hurt so badly.
Chapter Fourteen
“She what?” Stan leaned closer to the speaker on his phone in case he hadn’t heard the information clearly the first time his receptionist had spoken the words.
“Cobie Galloway messaged to say her cell phone reception is spotty in the Catskills and if you have any time-sensitive offers, you should email her.”
“Right.” He dropped the paper he’d been holding as the implications of one seemingly innocuous statement sank in. “Can you please ask Ms. Levy to join me at her earliest convenience.”
“I’m already here,” Mimi declared as she pushed open the glass door with her shoulder, her arms full of tabloids and entertainment magazines.
Stan didn’t smile. He merely leaned close to the speaker once more and said, “Hold my calls,” before disconnecting.
“Cobie finally got in touch?” Mimi asked, dropping the stack of papers onto his desk.
“Barely. She texted my receptionist. Did Lila call you?”
“No, and Felipe isn’t talking either, but he’s not happy about something.”
“That’s so unlike her.”
“Felipe? He’s got a femme streak, but I think he still identifies as a he.”
Stan rolled his eyes. “I meant Lila. It’s not like Lila to be out of contact for days after a major press push.”
“Oh.” Mimi sighed and looked up at him for the first time. The dark circles under her eyes showed faintly through her concealer, and her frown lines etched even through the work of gifted technicians.
These little tells didn’t make her any less beautiful, but they did make him wonder if she could see similar signs of strain in him. He shook his head. They both had enough to worry about without adding their vanity to the list. “Cobie’s in the Catskills.”
“She ran out on her?”
“Or Lila threw her out.”
“It’s too soon.” Mimi leaned against his desk.
He sifted through a few of the gossip rags, noting that many of them had begun to suspect Cobie and Lila weren’t living together anymore.
“But for them, for Cobie and Lila. They should have had more time.”
“They should have fought for more time,” he said, not sure if he felt disappointed in Cobie for not seeing that or disappointed in himself for caring enough to have an opinion on his client’s romantic relationships beyond a publicity stance. “But at the end of the day, they both did their jobs.”
“Maybe that’s all either of them really know,” Mimi said, sadness creeping into her voice. “Kids in this business, they are their jobs. I just thought maybe Cobie might be the one to show Lila something more.”
“Maybe she did. Maybe Lila didn’t like what she saw.”
“Or maybe Cobie was too unyielding to give Lila the space she needed to—”
“Hey now.” He cut in wi
th a twinge of defensiveness. “I never saw Cobie doing any pushing. That was your girl in the driver’s seat.”
“Not the last time she was here. You saw her. She didn’t make a single unreasonable demand.”
“And that’s the best compliment you can give her? No wonder Cobie’s hiding in the mountains.”
Mimi sighed. “Maybe she’s hiding in the mountains because she got her heart broken.”
The thought made his stomach clench. “And Lila hasn’t called you because she’s not ready to move on or make light of a break-up that feels too much like a break-up?”
Mimi didn’t respond, but her eyes were hazy and unfocused.
“Hey,” he whispered, reaching for her hand. “You can’t do this for her.”
“I know,” she whispered.
“They’re both adults, a fact they staked their careers and reputations on proving.”
“I know.”
“And they did their jobs.” He lifted up one of the papers for emphasis. The headline read, “What’s Next?” over a picture of Cobie and Lila. “They did what they set out to do from day one. Now all you and I can do is try to capitalize on the fall-out.”
Mimi sighed, pushing off the desk and straightening the jacket of her red pantsuit. “I’ve already booked Lila in the Jungle Studios with a full team of techs and producers for the next two weeks.”
“And I’ve got a meeting with Warner Brothers, Sony, and Paramount in the next two days to pitch Vigilant as a full package treatment.”
“Good.” Mimi nodded resolutely, then shifted from one three-inch heel to the other, undercutting her determined posture.
He wanted to soothe her, to tell her they’d done what they could, that they were good at their jobs. Both statements were true, and they’d always been more than enough. But for some reason, this time the words felt flat, even as they left his mouth. “We can’t give them what they won’t admit they need.”
Her brightly painted lips curled up in a way that made his heart give one unexpectedly loud thud. “Why not? I do it with you all the time.”
“Mimi, what are you going to do?”
“Nothing,” she said breezily as she strolled toward the door, but as she pushed it open once more, he could have sworn he heard her add, “Yet.”
• • •
“Cheers.” Talia lifted her champagne flute and relaxed into her Adirondack chair on Cobie’s back deck.
“Isn’t it bad luck to toast a contract that hasn’t been signed yet?” Cobie asked, even as she clinked the glass with her own.
“Hell if I know. It’s been years since I’ve signed a movie contract.”
Cobie had signed more than a few in that time, but somewhere along the way, she’d lost her excitement about doing so. Vigilant would be the first one to bring back some of that joy if the project went through.
Plenty of things could still go wrong in the next couple of weeks. Stan was working around the clock to hammer out the details, but it did seem as though all the major components were in place. Talia had been granted top billing in the screenwriting department, and the treatment had sold as a package deal with Cobie in the lead role. As far as she knew, no one had balked at the condition. She and Talia had also stipulated the importance of a female director, and each of the competing studios had agreed, though they’d made their own requests as to who that would be. The producers weighed in on that front as well, but so far, all the names being tossed around met with Cobie’s approval.
“I’m still pulling for Sophia Coppola,” Talia said as if reading her mind.
Cobie smiled as she stared off across the little valley. The vista had recently reached the tipping point from brown to green. Spring came later to the Catskills than it did to much of the country, but the mountains always made the wait worthwhile.
“Patty Jenkins would be good too.”
Cobie nodded.
“And Jodie Foster rounds out my top three.”
Cobie might have rearranged the order or made a few additions, but she didn’t argue any of their merits. She hadn’t had to argue about much of anything really. Everything came together much easier than she’d anticipated— if a multi-month dating charade that left her heart broken and her pride battered was considered easy. She’d been out of the city for nearly a month, and still the mountains had not fully healed her. She tried to pretend that fact didn’t worry her, just like she pretended not to notice Lila hadn’t called or released the song she’d written. But even with all the practice she’d had of late, she still hadn’t perfected the art of lying to herself.
“Oh, and we have to get the designer who did your Vale costume for the party. What’s her name?”
The question jarred her back into the moment, but once again. all trails of thought led back to Lila somehow. “Addie Hammels.”
“Never heard of her. Where’d you find her?”
“Lila found her.”
“Oh,” Talia said. “Sorry.”
“Why?”
“Didn’t mean to bring up she-who-must-not-be-named.”
“I’m fine. You can bring her up and say her name.”
Talia made a face as if she’d eaten something sour and then shook her copper-topped head.
“Really, it’s fine,” Cobie said. “Lila, Lila, Lila.”
“Don’t turn around three times, or she might appear.”
Cobie laughed in spite of a little twinge in her gut suggesting she wouldn’t totally hate that option. “You were talking about the designer, though, right?”
“But do we want to use her if Lila owns her?”
“The costume was on point,” Cobie said. “Besides, just because Lila collaborated with her doesn’t mean she owns her.”
“Fine, then who is she? What’s she like? Who does she normally work with?”
Cobie shrugged. “I never met her.”
“She didn’t fit you?”
“No. Lila did all the sewing.”
Talia arched one eyebrow so high it disappeared under her bangs.
“But this Addie woman did the design. Lila was adamant she get full credit.”
“The great one shared credit with someone else? Who is Addie Hammels, and where did she learn the art of sorcery?”
Cobie wanted to argue, to defend Lila. She shared none of Talia’s animosity, but she wasn’t naïve either. For Lila to have a hand in something and not want her share of the headlines was highly suspect. “I’ll admit, something never added up there. Lila insisted I give this Addie all the praise, despite the fact that Lila played a major part in the design production.”
“Maybe they’re lovers.”
The idea made Cobie’s stomach turn but didn’t make sense either, not with the way Lila had kissed her that night. Then again, a lot of other things that had happened between them didn’t fit with the way they’d made love either. “I don’t pretend to understand why Lila does what she does, but I have a hard time imagining she’d take a backseat to a lover.”
“If not love, then money? Fame?”
That seemed closer to realistic. “Lila doesn’t ever do anything she can’t sell, but I’m not sure how an unknown designer can offer Lila something she doesn’t already have in spades.”
“Let’s Google her.” Talia pushed up off the chair and pulled her phone from the pocket of her cardigan.
Cobie sat forward and watched her friend pace over the knotted pine floorboards. Talia was still beautiful even though the earliest signs of age had begun to show on her forehead and settle on her hips. She was attractive without needing to be made up, smart without being conceited, creative without being insecure, and loyal to a fault. Talia was genuine and trustworthy, and they’d had more than enough sexual chemistry in their day. Why had it been so easy to let go, or to remain friends? Why couldn’t Cobie summon any of the feelings for her that still pulsed in her for Lila? Was there simply too much water under their bridge, or was it something more?
“I’m not finding anything,�
�� Talia finally said. “Not at any of the agencies or schools. The only hit for Addie Hammels and design is some teenager with an arts blog.”
“That can’t be right.”
“No, this kid looks like she was in a cancer hospital.”
Cobie’s heart sank. “Let me see.”
Talia handed her the phone. Sure enough, one of the first pictures was of a young girl in a bed, her head bald and a series of tubes and wires extending from her arm.
“That can’t be her,” Talia said. “Right?”
Cobie clicked on the photo gallery tab and thumbed through several pictures, each one growing increasingly dark. The figure in the drawing turned angrier, lonelier, more haunting. Her heart hammered with each swipe until suddenly she stilled. There was the drawing of Vale’s costume in black and white and gray. She silently handed the phone back to Talia, who studied the screen for a second before sitting down again.
“What does it mean?” Talia asked.
Cobie shook her head.
“There’s a number. I’m going to call.”
Cobie waited as patiently as she could, trying not to jump to conclusions. Not that she had any conclusions. Nothing made sense. A teenage girl? Well that sort of made sense in that the demographic fit with Lila’s appeal. But a cancer hospital? Where would they have even met? And why wouldn’t Lila have just told her?”
“Hello, I am trying to get ahold of a representative for Ms. Addie Hammels,” Talia said into the phone. “Oh, I see. May I ask who’s representing her?”
Cobie waited, watching her green eyes widen.
“No. Thank you. I already know how to get ahold of them.”
Talia hung up the phone and tossed it on the table before downing the last of her champagne. “So she’s a minor, but she’s got a legal guardian who doubles as her creative representation. That lawyer can be reached at the office of Levy and Levy.”
Cobie sat very still for a long time as an idea began to form, only a loose connection on a complex timeline, but it nagged at her brain. “Can I see her website again?”
Talia handed her the phone, and Cobie scrolled through the blogs, back to about the time she and Lila had started their charade. From there it only took a couple entries to find what she was looking for. A post titled “Out of time” started with the line, “Looks like the cancer didn’t kill me this time, so I’m off to conversion therapy. I don’t know. I think I would have rather had another round of chemo.”
In Development Page 29