by Terri Lee
“What a perfect evening,” Natalie cooed into Nico’s ear.
“It’s the magic of Positano.” Nico grinned.
He smoothed a strand of hair from her face with a gentleness she’d become accustomed to. She was always amazed by his large powerful hands. Long, strong fingers that still managed to caress her with such gentleness. Hands that could slay a dragon in one move, then gently roll over her body and bring her to ecstasy the next moment.
“Can we just stay here forever?”
“You, my love, can have whatever you like.”
“Thank you.” Natalie grinned. With the legends of sea-gods and nymphs all tangled up in its beauty, Positano had a not-quite-real feel to it. The kind of place that required a leap of faith, if not reason. Yet, Natalie was aware that life had a way of finding its way in. Even in the most idyllic of refuges. She hugged Nico harder.
38 Et Tu Brute
June 30, 1978
Darling Monty,
I’m back home. Funny. Rome is home, now. Two weeks in Positano could never be enough. It was hard to leave, but I tucked a tiny piece of the magic in my back pocket for safe keeping.
Stan pleaded to have Tess for the entire summer, and though it killed me, I couldn’t really say no. Besides, I’m hoping this will store up a little good will as our divorce draws to a close. Perhaps we can end this thing with a whimper instead of a bang. Speaking of ending this thing, the final paperwork was mailed off a couple of weeks ago. Hard to believe, but it’s almost over. Nothing left but the scars. And they too, will fade over time.
Nico was such a doll to whisk me away. After I sent Tess to the States, I felt like throwing myself a pity party. But Positano was exactly what I needed. Days spent in the surf under the Italian sun morphed into long nights filled with laughter and conversation around the table. And… oh… the food! I told you that Nico’s sister, Alessa, was a chef, but I think artist is a better description. Or maybe, magician.
Alessa has the house filled with cooking students for the next few weeks, but Nico promised we’ll be back before the end of summer. And we’ll take Tess with us. I remember thinking as I looked from smiling face to smiling face, that this is what a family looks like. Feels like. I can literally feel the healing taking place inside me.
In the meantime, we have Rome to ourselves. At least for a short period before Caterina arrives home for the summer break. I’m sure that will be another story, but I’m committed to a positive outcome.
You, my red-headed friend, should come for a nice long visit. You know I’ll be rattling around this old place like a bag of bones without Tess and Nora. I could use a bit of your craziness right now. Come over and we’ll do one another’s hair. Ha ha.
By the way, thanks for the packet of mail I had waiting for me when I returned. Loved the clippings, but I’m not interested in the script, Mont. I read it. Only because YOU sent it to me. It’s… good. But frankly, not good enough to bring me back to LA. I’m sorry, honey. I’m not ready. Not yet.
With that, I’m heading off to the market. I’ll finish this up later…
July 1, 1978
* * *
What a difference a day makes. I don’t even know where to start.
I had intended this letter to be filled with nothing but love and healing. Only yesterday I was dancing on Italian sunshine then the postman left a land mine on my doorstep. You were right, Mont. They are going to sue!
Sitting in front of me is a fat stack of papers informing me that the studio has filed a breach of contract suit against me in the amount of 4.3 million dollars!!! What an absurd amount. Obviously, I don’t have that kind of money. It still seems surreal. Words swim on the page as I try to make sense of it all.
The list of plaintiffs is a mile long, starting with Paramount, the production companies and the list of producers including our own dear executive producer, Stanley Graber. Yes, you heard correctly.
And not one hint of this when I talked with him just last week. That fucking Brutus, putting a knife in my back while he calmly pleads for Tess to spend the entire summer in LA.
Against my better judgment, I acquiesced, hoping to bury the hatchet for Tess’s sake. Now I realize Stan had to know about this all along. That smug bastard. With the divorce being final, and Stanley having grabbed more than his share of the money, this conveniently leaves him unaffected financially. The whole thing seems rather well orchestrated to me.
I was so happy when I mailed off my divorce papers; erroneously believing the worst was behind me. But it appears I’ll only be exchanging one lawsuit for another. Honestly, Mont, I don’t know if I’m up for this battle.
Bacci,
Nat
39 Battle Cry
Natty,
If you need me there, I’m on the next plane. If you need me here, I’m all over it. If you need me to put out a hit on someone who shall remain nameless… I’ll set up a meeting with the Godfather in a back alley somewhere. Whatever it takes. (I’m only half-kidding.)
I’m so sorry this is happening now. I was hoping the gossip I mentioned earlier was just that. Gossip. I never heard anything more. Apparently, they did an unusually good job of keeping the lid on this pot. Let’s hope the tight lip syndrome continues while this thing works itself out. There’s still a good chance this case will never see the light of day in a courtroom. You know how these things are, baby.
I’m sending along a list of the best lawyers. The top one is a cut-throat asshole. (My personal favorite.) Chloe and I are meeting this evening to strategize. You’re not in this fight alone. I will launch a media campaign of epic proportions against anyone and everyone involved. You are America’s Sweetheart and America will not sit idly by while their girl is being dragged through the mud. If Paramount wants a fight, then they better gird their loins. (On a personal note, I’ve always wanted to use that line!) You are Joan of Arc with a battalion of righteous warriors behind you.
Call me, we’ll talk it out.
Kisses,
Monty
40 Fresh Start
“So, will you be heading back to Los Angeles?” Anne asked.
“No.” Natalie sighed. “Not yet, anyway.” She was exhausted from the re-telling of events. “That was Nico’s first question, too. God love him, I could see the worry etched on his face.”
Natalie fidgeted with the fringe on the pillow in her lap before tossing it aside with exasperation.
“I’m at a loss. I don’t want to go back to LA. Not yet. Not because of this. I can’t help but feel that somehow, I’m insulated from the madness here in Rome. Unless it actually goes to trial and I have to appear in court—I’m staying put.”
Anne looked up from her notebook with a smile for her client. “I’m very proud of the way you’re handling this.”
“Am I handling it?”
“Yes, you are.”
Natalie shrugged. “I haven’t done anything except hire a pit-bull lawyer to begin the rounds of talks.”
“That’s a great first step. One day at a time. Listen to the good advice you’re getting. And listen to your instincts. You’ve got this.”
“Yeah…” Natalie’s words faded away. “I’ve got something, alright.”
Anne closed the notebook in her lap. “What else is going on in your life? How are things with Nico?”
“Now, there’s something I can talk about for hours.”
Anne grinned. “Give me the ten-minute version.”
Natalie was only too happy to shove Hollywood, lawsuits, and Stan to the back of the closet. With the slam of a door, Nico was the only thing left standing in the light.
“Positano was even more beautiful this time.” Her eyes closed around the memory. “The entire place was in bloom. With Olive and Lemon trees lining the city streets it seems as if the entire place is always ready for a feast.”
Natalie had marveled at the abundance of citrus in the open air market. The rich soils derived from the volcanic eruptions of Vesuvius, playing a
delicious game of give and take.
“That’s a good way of putting it. I love Positano as well.”
“Mmmm…” Natalie nodded with a dreamy smile. “Leandro, Alessa, and the kids were there. Marius and I had some wonderful talks… I really love that boy.”
“And what about Caterina?”
“Ah, Caterina. She didn’t come. She’ll be home in a few days. And to be honest, I’m dreading it. Everything is going so well with Nico; I’m loathe to introduce any conflict.”
“Well let's not look for trouble where trouble may not exist. It's been six months, perhaps Caterina has come to the realization that your relationship with Nico is not a passing fling and she'll be ready to accept the possibility of her father having another woman in his life.”
“Fingers crossed.” Natalie could only hope that the girl had matured during her last semester away at college. Perhaps the two of them could have a fresh start.
Natalie thought perhaps she should have crossed fingers, toes and eyes as well, because six months had not changed Caterina’s demeanor one iota. The tension that had hovered in the air during the Christmas holidays was now a heavy winter cloak in the middle of summer. Natalie chafed under its weight.
An invitation for lunch had seemed like a good idea at the time. An opportunity for the two women to sit in a sun filled piazza, sipping iced tea and getting to know one another without the distractions of Nico or Marius had sounded like the perfect scenario. When Natalie broached the subject over dinner the other evening, she could feel Caterina squirming beneath her carefully crafted reply.
“How sweet of you to ask me to lunch. I’d love to.” Dark lashes blinked rapidly in a display of innocence. “I’m surprised you’re still here in Rome, I was sure Hollywood would have called you home by now.”
The smile was toothpaste ad perfect, leaving Nico beaming at Natalie as if to say, “See I told you there was nothing to worry about.” He might have been oblivious to the blank stare that accompanied Caterina’s words, but the cool glance fell on Natalie’s shoulder and slid down in an icy drip.
Now Natalie could feel the knot of uneasiness gathering in her stomach as she watched the young beauty make her way across the piazza. Head held high, eyes straight ahead, slim hips swaying slowly as she threaded her way through the tables, aware of the appreciative looks cast her way. Italian men were open admirers. Just the other day a handsome bystander had clutched his chest as Natalie walked by and proclaimed; “Bellisima. Grazie Senora. Bellisima.”
“I see you found the place.” Caterina slid into the open seat next to Natalie. “I hope it wasn’t too much trouble.”
“No, I had no trouble at all. It’s lovely.”
“This is one of my favorite spots.”
Caterina set her small purse on the table and looked around the piazza with a genuine smile. It was the first authentic display Natalie had witnessed from her young adversary and a burst of hope accompanied the realization.
“Are you hungry?”
Caterina grimaced. “Not especially, but I could eat a bite.”
“Well I’m starving, so let’s order.” Natalie wasn’t particularly hungry either but ordering and eating would keep them occupied.
Salads arrived just as the pair exhausted the first round of small talk. The young waiter hovered over Caterina, eager to be of service. When she flashed a brilliant smile his way Natalie couldn’t help imagining what Nico’s daughter might look like up on the screen. The camera would fall in love with her.
The meal dragged on, awkward and slow. Conversation erupted in fits and starts. Forks danced on plates, shifting bits of salad from one side to the other. Ice rattled in glasses. Natalie had already drained her list of conversation starters and with hardly more than two-word answers from Caterina, she felt as if she were pushing a wheelbarrow uphill.
A commotion from across the piazza caught everyone’s attention. A few people were standing to get a better look at the scene.
“What do you think’s going on?” Natalie craned her neck in the direction of the crowd.
Caterina turned slowly in her seat and surveyed the scene. “Oh, it’s probably the movie they’re shooting on the next street.”
“Movie?” Natalie could feel the blood drain from her face. “American or Italian?”
“I’m not sure,” Caterina said. “Although it did seem like there were a lot of Americans in the area.” She shrugged her shoulders, dismissing the subject.
Natalie twisted the napkin in her lap as her thoughts swirled around her. If there was a film being shot, the press would be close by. Had Caterina planned this? After all it was she who had chosen the restaurant. But surely…
She could feel the anxiety rising in her chest as she spoke. “I’m not really comfortable being here.”
Caterina glanced over at her, a look of confusion playing across her face. “What? Why?” Then she nodded slowly. “Oh… I get it. If you want to leave, that’s fine.”
Natalie shook her head in frustration, exhausted from the game. “You know, I was hoping we could have a nice lunch and maybe get to know—”
Caterina placed her napkin on the table with deliberate precision. “You thought we could have lunch and become… what…friends?”
“Why would that be out of the question?”
“I’m not really interested in becoming friends. I have one interest, and that’s protecting my father.”
“Protecting your father?” Natalie parroted. “From what?”
“From you.”
And there it was. The truth sitting on the table, between plates of salad and half-empty glasses of iced tea. A hand grenade placed in the breadbasket, waiting for Natalie to pick it up. Clumsy fingers sure to trip the trigger. She took a deep breath, reminding herself that she and Caterina were not peers. The girl might be a brat, but she was Nico’s brat. Any sharp words on Natalie’s part could be blown up and used against her later. Instead, she took a moment to settle her thoughts before proceeding in a measured tone.
“Why would you need to protect Nico from me?”
Caterina rolled her eyes. “Because he’s very vulnerable right now. I would even say susceptible.”
“Susceptible? That’s a strong word.”
“My father needs time to heal—”
“That’s for Nico to decide.”
“You know,” Caterina went on ignoring Natalie’s statement, “I did a lot of research while I was back in the states. A lot of reading—about you.”
“And what is it you think you found out?”
“I know you’re used to people falling at your feet. But this isn’t Hollywood. You think you can just swoop in here on your private jet and take whatever you want?”
“No. I don’t think that at all. Quite the opposite actually. And for the record, I don’t have a private jet.”
Unfazed by Natalie’s reply, Caterina continued like a top wound tightly. Words flinging faster than Natalie could catch them. “You can’t have my father. He’s unavailable. As far as I can see there are only two scenarios. One; you stay in Rome and live the Italian life. Highly unlikely. Sure, it’s all fun and games right now. But it’s not real. It’s not who you are. You’re an actress playing a part.
“Two; you go back to Hollywood, dragging my father with you. I’m not going to let him become the next Mr. Hampton. I don’t want him to end up like your husband, Stanley.”
“Whoa.” Natalie held up her hand in attempt to slow the train and keep it from derailing. Diners had turned their attention from plates of pasta to the conversation between the two women. “Please lower your voice. You’re hurling a lot of accusations my way. Do I get a chance to reply?”
Caterina sat back in her seat; arms folded tightly across her chest.
“Thank you,” Natalie said. “Let me just say this, you can’t possibly believe that you know anything about my real life after simply reading a few magazine articles—”
“I’m not a child and I know mo
re than you think I know.”
“I didn’t imply that you were a child. I’m saying, I’m a real person. Not an image you’ve seen on the screen or read about in movie magazines. When I came to Rome I was in a bad place.”
“Exactly.” Caterina pounced. “The state of your mental health worries me.”
“What?” Where was this coming from?
“The last thing my father needs is another damaged woman to care for. If you truly love him, you’d want what’s best for him.”
Damaged woman. The words were a gut punch, knocking the wind out of her. Natalie’s breath came hard and fast. Before she could recover Caterina was on her feet.
The nineteen-year-old was a gladiator, taking on all comers. Her blows delivered with the coldness and detachment of a woman scorned. Leaning over Natalie, her dark hair spilling over her shoulders, brown eyes on fire, she finished with one last salvo.
“I’ll say it again. I’m not interested in being friends, and I’m not my stupid brother mooning over you like a love-sick cow. My father is my life. He needs time to heal. And I want you to know, if you don’t back off, I’ll do whatever it takes to protect him.”
“Does your father get a say in this? In case you’ve forgotten, he’s in love with me.”
“Maybe.” Caterina straightened to her full height. “Maybe not. But if it comes down to a choice, are you willing to bet on his answer?”
The girl certainly knew how to make an exit, leaving Natalie staring at her back and dodging furtive glances from nearby tables.
41 Chalk Drawings
“She’s spoiled. And it’s entirely my fault.” Nico frowned.
They were sitting in Natalie’s living room after dinner, the tang of lemon chicken still fresh in their mouths. The dance of cooking together was always one of her favorite activities. Gliding across the tile floor. A bob here, a weave there, a tango amongst breaded chicken and roasted broccoli. Her kitchen was a happy mix of music and laughter.