Fade To Black Read online

  “I thought our biggest worries would be press who were sympathetic to Wentz, but now it seems like there’s a lot more at risk.”

  “And?” Of course there was more.

  “And I’m not sure doing this movie is worth the risk.”

  “Are you thinking about dropping out?”

  “This isn’t about my involvement, Sloane. It’s about the project itself.”

  “Well, it exists. That’s not changing.”

  “You wrote a lovely script—”

  “Thank you!” She clapped. “Your validation in this moment means everything to me!”

  “—that’s earned a lot of support already. You don’t have to direct the film.”

  “Of course I have to. Who else would bring this story to life better than me?”

  “Maybe any great director who isn’t so close to the material.”

  She glared at him, hating that he might be right. “I have to make this movie.”

  “Fine. But I want to have an honest conversation about the risks.”

  “Only after stewing on it for an hour first, though, right? We can’t ever just get right to it.”

  Miles ignored her. “Wentz is winning right now.”

  “And you think he’s going to keep winning? Why did you agree to the project if you were just going to back out when things got tough, which we absolutely knew they would?”

  “When did things get tough for you? Was it the accident our first day on set? The strike? The—“

  “I don’t need a list, Miles. It hasn’t stopped looping in my head. But thank you for—“

  “If Wentz hurts our daughter, it will be because you invited him into our lives.”

  Sloane felt slapped.

  But Miles still didn’t stop. “That man would never have bothered with any of this if you weren’t feeding your need for revenge or vindication, or whatever it is you think you’ll get from this.”

  “How about a great movie?”

  “I’d love to see it. Maybe someone else should make it.”

  “Why don’t I believe your maybe, Miles?”

  “Maybe because all of your belief is invested in convincing yourself that the risks here are less that they are, and that your fairy godparents are going to make sure that everything turns out okay.”

  “You’re always on me for thinking the worst, now I’m not supposed to have faith?”

  “I’m not always on you for thinking the worst, Sloane. But I can’t have you putting your head in the sand when our daughter’s life is at stake.”

  “And you don’t think that’s being dramatic, at all?”

  “No, I don’t. I think it’s much more dramatic to buckle up for the ride without having the conversation.”

  “Fine, Miles. What do you want me to say? That I need my revenge and vindication more than I need our daughter to be safe? Well, sorry, I’m not going to say that because it isn’t true. Don’t you think I wish I could move on? And don’t you know me well enough to see how much I already hate myself for not being able to?”

  “That doesn’t mean that plowing forward—”

  “It’s my turn.” She waited for Miles to acknowledge her.

  He bowed his head and she continued.

  “Yes, I wish I could move on. But I can’t.” Sloane shook her head, surprisingly in control considering how much she felt like losing it. “Liam Wentz can’t win again. He shut me up the last time and it’s been eating me alive every day since.”

  “I understand that, but—”

  “BUT no matter how much I might want justice, I would never jeopardize Jolie. And you need to give me more credit than that.”

  After a long moment, Miles finally sat on her bed. Then he took her hand. “We both want what’s best for Jolie. I just need us to keep the conversation going.”

  “You have my word, Miles. I don’t care about her safety or wellbeing any less than you do.”

  “I understand that.” He bowed his head.

  “Are you really leaving the project?”

  “Of course I don’t want to go. And if you’re not leaving, then of course I couldn’t do that to you. I will absolutely stay and shoot the hell out of your movie. But I want you to promise that we can both drop the film at the first hint of direct danger to Jolie. Promise—”

  “You have my word. Of course.” Sloane was glad that she and Miles made up, but she also now knew that she for sure needed him to leave. “Thank you for helping me tonight. I really appreciate it.”

  He took her cue, kissing her on the cheek before standing from the bed. “See you on set in the morgen?”

  “See you in the morgen,” she repeated.

  Sloane waited to hear the front door close, then she finally shut her eyes.

  She started to play back the best parts of her day, especially all of those delicious moments with Orson. It was too bad, all the stuff that happened after that.

  Her head was in the clouds.

  Sleep felt like a deep kiss away.

  And that brought her thoughts back to Orson.

  Sloane wished he was there with her now, even though he would probably agree with Miles, thinking she was reckless, not just with her and Jolie, but with all of them.

  Tomorrow she could start to prove everyone wrong.

  Chapter Twenty

  Sloane

  Sloane didn’t want to get carried away with herself, but so far, the day had been amazing.

  She couldn’t pack the paranoia away entirely, suspicion kept wanting to pop up out of nowhere to tap her on the shoulder and remind her that Liam Wentz had eyes and ears everywhere. But for most of that time the roiling emotion stayed under control while she stayed in flow.

  The cast and crew seemed to be working as a single unit for the first time. Sloane imagined the Shellys gathered everyone around and gave them a good talking to. She didn’t care what they did. The results were wonderful. Lila was back and stronger than ever.

  Cassidy nailed every take, without showing a hint of her accent.

  Orson was amazing, too, which was excellent for both their schedule and the overall production, though Sloane hated the creeping realization that he would be done with his scenes soon, then off to something else. A remake of Metropolis, also for the Shellys and Juke.

  Gina, playing Jennifer, was terrific in her first scene, as was Bennett Cole, playing a cinematic version of the man who first destroyed then haunted her life.

  Security was tight, the cast was on high alert, and the Shellys were only a phone call away.

  Best of all, Jolie was with Jake, still on set with her and Miles, to both parents’ relief.

  It was lunchtime. The catering was now coming from Arrivé. Sloane made plates for her and Jolie, since Connor was with his mom and she would probably love a break from hanging out with the Kindergarten Cop.

  Last night’s argument-turned-necessary-conversation with Miles had been a good thing. They were in total agreement about everything, as confirmed by a quick chat before getting going for the day, plus a couple of check-ins along the way.

  At first, neither of them wanted Jolie anywhere near the set and were willing to fight hard to get their way on that one. But after each of them thought about it on their own, they arrived to work with matching conclusions — being on set with them was probably the safest place for Jolie right now, relatively. Only pure paranoia would make them believe that Wentz would blow up an entire movie studio just to silence her film. Considering Jolie had all that security — a personal bodyguard, and two parents who were only a page away — having her anywhere else would be silly.

  She knocked on the trailer door then opened it without waiting for an answer.

  “MOMMY!” Jolie ran to Sloane, overjoyed to see her.

  “I thought we could eat lunch together,” she said.

  “Good to see you, Ms. Alexander.”

  “You too, Jake.” Sloane gave him a nod then showed Jolie the plates, piled with choices for them to share, gl
ad that her daughter was already a foodie, at least when far from places like Pirate Pizza. Fetta-ricotta spinach rolls, a big piece of chicken Florentine, a serving of sole Françoise with lemon butter sauce, broccoli with garlic and oil, penne alla vodka, red potatoes, grilled zucchini, fried zucchini, and shishito peppers.

  “Where’s the dessert?” Jolie asked, so predictable.

  “I’ll go back for dessert. This was all I could carry.” Sloane turned to Jake. “Why don’t you go and grab yourself something to eat.”

  “You sure? I don’t mind—”

  “Of course. Please. We’re fine.”

  Jake nodded, then left Sloane and Jolie alone.

  She walked to the rear of the trailer then sat on the ground, setting both plates in front of her.

  Jolie sat on the other side of their plates, then looked up at her mother while grabbing a napkin and one of the forks. “What do we eat first?”

  “Whatever you want!”

  Jolie looked down at her choices. “Connor’s not here today.”

  “Connor is with his mom.”

  “I know. That’s what I said!”

  “So, what did you do today?”

  “I’ve been working on the Ratatouille puzzle, and Jake played hide and seek with me. I read four chapters of the second Harry Potter and three chapters of the third one.”

  “You’re reading both books at once?”

  Jolie nodded, shoving a piece of fried zucchini into her mouth. “I stopped reading the second one because I remembered that I liked the third one better.”

  “The third one is better …” Something caught her attention out the window. She didn’t know what, only that it bothered her enough to send her side of the conversation with Jolie into autopilot as she stood and went to look outside. “What do you like better about the third book?”

  “Sirius Black!” Jolie exclaimed.

  Nothing out the window, at least not beyond the cast and crew milling about, exactly like she would expect them to. But still Sloane kept looking.

  “What about Sirius Black?”

  “Harry hears about him just before going to Hogwarts. He escaped Azkaban. That’s where all the most dangerous wizard criminals are kept. Ron’s dad warns Harry that Sirius is looking for him, and that makes Harry really, really scared. But Sirius isn’t actually bad, and he was friends with Harry’s dad when they were little. Like Harry’s age. It also has other new characters like Professor Lupin, even though there are always new professors these ones are better, plus the third book has time travel.”

  Jolie delivered her Harry Potter soliloquy with barely a breath.

  Sloane agreed with every word and one day hoped to have a conversation with her daughter about why the third film was the best among them as well. Right now, Jolie didn’t enjoy the Azkaban movie nearly as much as the first two, which broke her mother’s storytelling heart, same as it shattered her cinematographer father’s.

  Sloane sat back down and surveyed what was left of their food. She’d only had a bite of the penne and a forkful of the shishitos before walking to the window, so the dent was especially impressive considering Jolie had been talking almost the entire time.

  “You know Becky?” Jolie asked.

  “Of course I know Becky.”

  “I heard her talking to Thomas Meeno that you got in an accident.”

  Tomosino. Also, to hell with Becky mouthing off in front of Jolie like that.

  Except that she probably wasn’t mouthing off at all, and any confusion her daughter had about what happened was on Sloane for not telling her.

  “I did get in an accident last night.” She couldn’t help herself from stealing another glance out the window.

  “Is that why your face has boo-boos?”

  “Yes,” she admitted. “I told you that we’d talk about it later when you asked about it this morning because the accident made me sad and I didn’t want to think about it.”

  More than that, Sloane didn’t know how to have an honest conversation about what happened. She didn’t want her daughter to believe the headlines if she overheard or saw anything, nor did she want to tell Jolie that she’d been run off the road by someone who might have been trying to kill her.

  “Are you okay to think about it now?”

  NO. “Of course, honey.”

  “What happened? Were you driving?”

  “I was. After having dinner with Orson.”

  “Connor’s Daddy is sooooo nice. Did you know he was in The Realm Has Fallen?”

  “I did.”

  “Can I see The Realm Has Fallen?”

  “You cannot.”

  “Connor’s seen it. Twice.”

  Sloane didn’t believe that he’d seen more than ten minutes of that movie even once, but she wasn’t going to argue about it. “I’m glad. You can see The Realm Has Fallen when you’re old enough.”

  “How old do I have to be?”

  “I don’t know, Jolie. Fifteen.”

  “Promise I can see it when I’m fifteen?”

  “Sure.”

  “So how did you crash the car, Mommy?” She grabbed one of the ricotta spinach rolls.

  Sloane glanced out the window again. But this time she saw something. “It was dark, and I lost control of the wheel. I didn’t see where I was going, so I crashed into a tree.”

  Orson and Miles were standing just outside the trailer in the midst of what appeared to be an awkward exchange.

  “Were you drinking and driving?”

  “I was not,” Sloane said, before amending her statement. “I had a little wine with dinner, but even less than I’m allowed to have.”

  “That’s good, Mommy. Because drinking and driving can kill you.”

  “Yes, it can.”

  “Same for texting.”

  “You’re absolutely right.” Sloane’s side of the conversation was still on auto-pilot.

  “What do you see, Mommy?”

  “Nothing, honey.” She didn’t know, but it was definitely something.

  Sloane returned to her spot on the floor.

  The door opened and Jake reentered the room with two plates, same as Sloane had been carrying, but these were clearly both for him.

  “I’ll be right back,” Sloane told him. “I’m going to get us some dessert.”

  Jake gave her a nod, but was already chewing on something and must not have wanted to speak with his mouth full of food.

  Orson was already gone by the time Sloane was outside. She looked around but didn’t see him anywhere, so she approached Miles instead. “What was that about?”

  “What was what about?” Miles asked.

  But her baby daddy was smiling, so of course he knew.

  “What were you two talking about?”

  “Me and Lila? We were talking about your very picky notes for—”

  “What were you and Orson just talking about. Two minutes ago. Right outside—”

  “Oh, that!” He laughed. “We were talking about which is better between New York and Chicago Pizza.”

  “Seriously, Miles …”

  “I am serious. Despite the claims of your new boyfriend, New York pizza is insubstantial.”

  “Please, Miles.”

  “Okay.” He laughed then looked at her seriously. “Like I’ve already said, Orson seems like a great guy, and he keeps on finding new ways to prove it.”

  “How so? Specifically this time. Nothing about which kind of pizza is better, and I don’t want to hear about any imaginary battles about the superior hot sauce or any other such nonsense. I want the vérité, Miles. What did he say?”

  “He was trying to get a sense of our relationship … Orson wants to make sure he’s not stepping on any toes. He’s serious about you, chérie … I think you should make your position clear to him. Assuming you’re looking for a boyfriend.”

  “You make it sound like high school.”

  “Isn’t it, just a little?”

  “No,” Sloane said, though may
be it was.

  She felt embarrassed but happy. Ready for more work, wanting to continue crushing her day. “I’m going to grab some dessert for me and Jolie. You want anything?”

  He shook his head. “I’m good. We need to—”

  Lila ran toward them, breath heavy, her face flushed with what appeared to be panic.

  “What is it?” Sloane asked, trying to sound stronger than she suddenly felt, glad that she had just seen Jolie and knew she was safe in the trailer behind her.

  “Maybe you should look at the Rummage Report,” Lila said.

  “Or maybe you should just tell me,” Sloane snapped.

  “Wentz has a movie under production …”

  “He always has a movie under production. Many movies,” Sloane said. “What’s the real story?”

  “The movie is called All Smoke, No Fire. It’s described as ‘an intense drama about a man who is falsely accused of sexual assault.’”

  “A bit on the nose, isn’t it?” Miles said. “The title, I mean.”

  “It’s well under way, and will almost for sure come out before ours.”

  “How is that possible?” Sloane exclaimed.

  “Because he’s scrambling. Throwing spaghetti against the wall.” Miles shrugged. “Maybe this is a good thing.”

  Lila shook her head. “Not with this cast.”

  “Who’s in it?” Sloane shook off a serious chill.

  “Some big names.”

  “I gathered. You mind being specific?”

  Lila swallowed and told her. “Gabriel Douglas.”

  “Goddammit, you’ve gotta be kidding me.” She pinched her temples, trying to think.

  Gabriel Douglas had a few stinkers in his catalog, but he hadn’t made anything less than phenomenal in years. He had been nominated for an Academy Award three times out of his last five times in front of the camera, and stepped off stage with the Oscar twice.

  Like Sloane needed any further proof that she was going to end up with a legendary disaster. The movie that was supposed to serve as a launching pad for the rest of her life would be a punchline instead. This was her Cutthroat Island, her Hudson Hawk, her Adventures of Pluto Nash.

  Her phone buzzed with a text.

  She took out her phone and looked the screen.