The Show (34 page)

Macy ordered the black cod and seaweed salad, and Austin got them a huge plate of assorted sushi that looked incredible, like a platter of glistening jewels. The food arrived quickly but Macy found she was too nervous to eat. Austin got straight to business.

‘Your father is dying.’

Macy shrugged. To her, Per Johanssen had died a long time ago.

‘He has terminal lung cancer and is now in the very final stages,’ Austin went on. ‘He wants to see you.’

‘Wants to see my money, more like,’ Macy scoffed. ‘What’s he after? Better medical care? Round-the-clock nursing? Some expensive new drug?’

Austin frowned, apparently taken aback by her callousness.

‘There are no drugs,’ he said quietly. ‘And Per doesn’t need money.’

‘What then?’ Macy heard herself getting angrier. ‘Absolution? I’m sorry, but he can’t have that either. Was that the important message? That he’s dying?’

‘No.’ The lawyer speared a California roll with a chopstick and demolished it in a single bite.

‘What then?’

Austin wished he could tell her. He liked Macy enormously. Had liked her from the second he saw her, and not just because she was ridiculously sexy. She reminded him of her father, a man whom Austin Jamet admired greatly and had come almost to love. It was true that Per Johanssen was a client, but he was also more than that – and
so
much more than his daughter gave him credit for.

Like most children of divorce, Macy had been raised exclusively on one side of the story. Her mother’s. But heartbreak, alcoholism and depression could all play havoc with the truth. There was another side to Macy’s family history, and it was Per’s place to tell it to her. If she gave him the chance, before their time ran out.

‘He’ll tell you himself, when you see him. This is his address.’

He pushed a piece of paper across the table. Macy unfolded it.
St John’s Hospice, Santa Monica.
Macy passed it back to Austin.

‘Tell him no.’ The anger had dissipated. Macy sounded sad and a little weary. ‘I’m sorry. I know you’re trying to do your best for him. But it’s too late for that.’

Sensing correctly that it would be counterproductive to push her further tonight, Austin ordered more sake and changed the subject. He wanted to do the best he could for Per. That was why he was here, after all. But he was also very attracted to Macy, and more than a little intrigued. At first they made small talk about LA, and their different perspectives on the city.

‘I went to the East Coast for law school,’ he told Macy. ‘Froze my ass off. When I graduated I moved back here first plane I could catch. You can’t beat LA for the weather. Or the women.’

Macy raised a sceptical eyebrow ‘I don’t believe for a moment that you’re that shallow, Mr Jamet.’

‘You don’t?’ Austin grinned.

‘There must be more to LA than that. More that pulled you back here.’

Austin looked suddenly serious. ‘Not really. I’m not that close to my family. We grew up in Venice, but it was totally different back then. No million-dollar beach shacks or artists’ studios or Abbot Kinney restaurants charging eighty bucks for a steak.’

‘What was it like, then?’ Macy sipped her wine.

‘Tenth grade. Two kids in my algebra class got an F on a test. Went home, got beaten up by their dads. Real bad.’

Macy shrugged. ‘That happens.’

‘Uh-huh. Next morning they walked into class and blew the math teacher’s head off.’

Macy gasped.

Austin speared another roll and flashed her a naughty smile. ‘We all got As in algebra after that.’

After forty minutes, Macy felt as if she’d asked him a thousand questions and he’d answered all of them. And yet by the end she still knew almost nothing really important about him.

‘Your turn.’

Austin pushed the molten chocolate cake towards her, but Macy declined.

‘Tell me about Macy Johanssen.’

‘You look like a man who does your research,’ Macy teased. ‘Didn’t you read my file?’

‘Oh, I know your résumé,’ said Austin, proceeding to rattle off Macy’s date of birth, education and career highlights. It was more than a little unnerving. ‘But I don’t know
you
.’

‘I’m an open book,’ Macy lied. ‘Ask away.’

‘OK. Why’d you move to England? Were you running away from something here in LA?’

‘Not at all,’ Macy stiffened. ‘I thought
Valley Farm
would be a good career move. And it was.’

‘A good personal move too, by all accounts,’ said Austin. ‘I understand you’re getting married?’

‘That’s right.’ Macy reached her arm across the table, showing him the ring. Austin took her hand, resting her slender fingers on his flat, warm palm, like a delicate flower resting on a lily pad.

‘That’s quite a rock.’

Macy smiled.

‘He’s English?’

‘Very.’

‘And you like living over there?’

‘I love it,’ said Macy. ‘The Swell Valley, where we shoot
Valley Farm
, is like something out of a fairy tale. Seriously, I don’t think Hans Christian Andersen could have dreamed this place up.’

‘But?’

Macy frowned at him. ‘What do you mean “but”? There are no buts.’

Austin frowned back at her. ‘Come, come now. If we’re going to be friends, you’re going to need to be straight with me. You’re in town to sell the show in the US, correct?’

Macy nodded.

‘So you want to move back here?’

‘For a while maybe,’ Macy said defensively. ‘I want to spend time in both places.’

‘With your very English husband-to-be?’

‘That’s right. What’s wrong with that?’ Macy bristled a little. More fool her for getting into a Q&A with a lawyer. Austin was making her feel as if she were on trial.

‘Nothing,’ he said breezily. ‘I heard you Skyping back at the house. He sounded like a nice guy.’

‘You were eavesdropping?’

‘Actually, you were projecting,’ Austin said gently. ‘It was almost like you wanted me to hear how affectionate you guys were. How happy.’

Macy blushed. Gosh, he was observant. ‘Don’t be silly.’

An awkward silence fell. Austin pulled a smokeless cigarette out of a box in his pocket and offered one to Macy.

‘Do you vape?’

She shook her head and laughed. ‘I used to. I gave up when I moved to England. My God, I haven’t seen one of those in a while.’

She remembered how horrified Eddie Wellesley had been the night she first met him, when she’d offered him a smokeless cigarette after they slept together.
Jesus, did I really sleep with Eddie?
What a long time ago that seemed now.

Austin inhaled deeply, a cloud of steam snaking softly from between his lips.

‘You’re not sure about him, are you?’

It took Macy a moment to realise he was talking about James.

‘What? Of course I’m sure,’ she said. Her stomach gave an unpleasant lurch, as if someone had opened a trap door beneath her feet and she’d just plunged through it.

‘Is there someone else?’

‘No!’

‘Someone at work?’

Macy pushed her plate away and folded her arms. This game had stopped being fun. Who was this man, to ask her such personal questions, and make such wild assumptions about her life?

Realizing he’d gone too far, Austin apologized. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. I guess it’s force of habit, the probing questions. Kind of an occupational hazard.’

They managed to finish the evening without incident, but the earlier ease between them had gone. Macy felt upset, as if she’d been tricked into revealing more of herself than she meant to. At the same time, it bothered her that this man, this complete stranger, should make the same observation that Eddie Wellesley and Santiago and others had made to her. Austin’s words hung in her head now like an accusation:

‘
You’re not sure, are you?… Is there somebody else?… Somebody at work?
’

She was pleased when the bill came and it was time to leave. Even more pleased when her phone informed her that her Uber driver was only one minute away. Outside, the cool night air blowing off the Pacific ruffled Macy’s hair and soothed her spirits. Really, what did it matter what Per Johanssen’s handsome lawyer thought about her?

‘This is me,’ said Austin, as the valet brought round a gleaming, midnight-blue Aston Martin. ‘May I offer you some advice, Macy? In case I don’t see you again?’

‘It’s a free country,’ said Macy.

‘Go and see your father, before it’s too late.’ He slipped into his car, stretching out his long legs in front of him with the same, easy grace with which he seemed to do everything. ‘And don’t get married unless you’re absolutely sure.’

Macy opened her mouth to say, ‘I am sure.’ But while the words were still forming, Austin drove away.

All the way back to Laurel Canyon, Macy felt her mood worsen and the tension in her body increase. What a horrible evening! What a mistake to have gone, when she could have been at home doing something useful, like preparing for her pitch meetings. On top of it all, Laura was arriving tomorrow. This would be the first time the two women had been alone together without Eddie or Gabe there as a buffer. Just the thought of Laura’s hostile, critical presence at these important meetings was enough to drain what was left of Macy’s confidence like a lanced boil.

In a few short hours, all the joy she’d felt at being back in her home city had gone, to be replaced by something very close to dread.

Thanks for nothing, Austin Jamet.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Amazingly, Macy slept well. Waking at six, she went for a run through the canyon, had another incredible shower and a light breakfast and by eight o’clock was at her desk, working on the pitch. For once, the words and ideas seemed to flow out of her. This was easy! She knew what she loved about
Valley Farm
. And she knew what viewers loved about it. All she had to do was stand up in front of the network execs and tell them exactly that. How hard could it be?

By the time she stopped typing at two o’clock, she was so awash with confidence and a sense of achievement that she decided to take the bull by the horns and go and meet Laura’s flight herself. That way she would look eager and co-operative and she could head off any negativity from the start. It would also give her a chance to brief Laura on the way to Shutters on the Beach, the fancy hotel in Santa Monica that Eddie had booked her into, and generally love-bomb her producer to such a degree she’d have no chance to find fault with anything.

We’re going to sell this show
, Macy told herself, over and over, listening to Kiss FM as she tore down the 405 towards LAX.
We’re going to sell this show and make a fortune, and I’m going to be famous again. This time next year, everyone in America’s going to recognize my face, just like they do in England.

It was only as she was pulling into the parking structure at Tom Bradley International Terminal that she realized she’d forgotten the Skype call with James that they’d scheduled for this afternoon. Oh, well. He would understand. She’d call him later, once Laura was settled at her hotel, and explain.

When she got into the arrivals hall, the screens told her that the Heathrow flight had already landed. The first-class passengers were already beginning to drift through the double doors.
Perfect timing.
Nipping into the Ladies room, Macy went to the bathroom and tidied her hair with her fingers. She hadn’t had time to put on any make-up, rushing on an impulse from her desk to her car, and was still in the casual striped maxidress and flip-flops that she’d pulled on after her shower. Not that Laura would care.

She contemplated buying a bunch of flowers, then decided that was overkill. Grabbing a bottle of water from the kiosk instead, she found a spot right in front of the barriers and waited. Seconds later, the double doors swung open. For the second time in twenty-four hours, Macy felt the invisible trap door give way beneath her. For there, sauntering into the arrivals hall with a small suitcase, looking tired but as gorgeous as ever in an old pair of jeans and a white linen shirt, was Gabe.

The moment he saw Macy’s face, he burst into a grin.

‘What are you doing here?’

‘I could ask you the same thing,’ said Macy. Suddenly horribly conscious of her make-up-free appearance and shapeless dress, she didn’t return his smile. ‘Where’s Laura?’

Gabe’s face darkened. ‘She couldn’t make it. We had a row, actually. A big one. She refused to fly out so I decided to come instead.’

‘Oh!’ Macy was ashamed at how cheered she was by this news.

The truth was she really needed
Valley Farm
’s creator at these network pitches, or at least one of the show’s producers. Besides being another warm body in the room, Gabe didn’t add much value to the meetings, especially as he would not be a part of any US-based presenting team. Macy ought to feel furious with Laura for bailing without even letting her know. But anger was the one emotion she could not seem to find, looking at Gabe’s kind, funny, familiar face.

‘Are you taking me to my hotel then?’ he asked Macy.

‘That was the plan,’ she said, looking down so he wouldn’t see the shadows under her eyes.

‘Great,’ said Gabe. ‘You can fill me in on who we’re meeting on the way. And I’ll fill you in on Laura.’

By the time they pulled up outside Shutters’ famous coral tree, Macy’s buoyant mood of this morning had completely deserted her. First, her agent, Paul Meyer, had called just as they were pulling out of the airport to tell her that not only had NBC cancelled their Tuesday meeting but that ABC had pulled out of the running again.

‘Someone in their commissioning department belatedly read a British newspaper,’ Paul told Macy ruefully. ‘I’m sorry, Macy, but you know the score. These guys are so risk averse, they’re all looking for a reason to say no. Lady Wellesley just handed them a whole bunch.’

‘But that’s ridiculous! She has nothing to do with the show! Even Eddie’s only an EP, for Christ’s sake.’

‘You’re preaching to the converted,’ Paul told her. ‘Don’t panic. Showtime and HBO and Netflix are all still in the mix. And Fox. You and Laura just need to charm the pants off them.’