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Epilogue
All day a weight has been sitting in my stomach. Today is the day. Our movie is set to show at seven tonight in the main theater. We’ve been distracting each other by exploring the city all morning, but after lunch, we split up.
“Let her swim in the pool for a few hours, and then she’ll be out the moment you’re back in the room,” I tell Joan.
She places a hand on my forearm. “You’re going to do great. They’ll love the movie. Don’t worry about Lizzie. We’re going to have a little girls’-night-in after we wear ourselves out at the pool.”
Maybe I should be worried about Lizzie, but there’s just not enough room in me. Even though Joan means well, her words don’t even scratch the surface of the dread hanging like a muck on all my thoughts.
“Thanks,” I say, but I’m not looking at Joan. My eyes are on the wall of the hotel dining room, but what I’m seeing is an imagined scene of tonight. Though I’m awake, my nightmare hasn’t stopped playing on repeat in my head. But Joan misinterprets my dead stare.
“And if you’re worried about what’s going to happen to him, don’t. He’s going to get what’s coming to him.”
Him.
Jeb Eli.
The sexual abuser who has had his fingers on far too many women in Hollywood, and from the way he was caressing Lizzie’s hair that last night at Cory’s grand house, I’m terrified of what he may have done to children as well.
He’s been in police custody for months now, but a high profile case like his isn’t over in a single day at court. It’s been a long time coming, but the proceedings are finally wrapping up, and the final verdict is supposed to come out today. But today in the US, means sometime tonight in France, so I’ve got another heap of anxiety to pile on the worries already searing holes inside me.
All I can think of is the what ifs. What if our movie is a flop at the festival tonight? That means we’re certain not to get a national release in theaters, much less an international one. Which means that Cory will be well and truly out of a job. Our mutual dreams will die because one sexual predator turned all of Hollywood against us.
Then there’s Jeb himself. What if he’s not found guilty? He’ll be released, free to roam once more. And I can only imagine that he’ll have vengeance on his mind. He must know it’s me who started this Internet campaign against him. Which means that he’ll turn his sights on us. And while I normally wouldn’t be afraid of a single man, as sociopathic as he may be, he’s the nephew of a mob leader. A mob leader who was killed because of Cory’s father’s betrayal. While Jeb might have been satisfied with tanking Cory’s career before, now I fear that he’ll be looking for more of the traditional type of revenge. The kind that ends with us in the trunk of a car or ‘swimming with the fishes’, as those cliché mob movies say.
“Mom, don’t forget,” Lizzie says after bouncing out of the dining chair and sidling up next to me. She’s buzzing with energy.
“Forget what?”
“Are you serious?” Lizzie says with a huff. “You promised you would take some video for me today at the festival. Remember?”
I shake my head to clear it of the detritus. “Oh, that!”
“Yes, ‘that’.” Lizzie crosses her arms. “If I can’t go, I at least want you to bring back some good video for my movie.”
&nbs
p; “I’ll get tons of footage, ok?”
Lizzie nods at this and then bounds off behind Joan to change into her swimsuit. Back in our suite, Cory and I have the room to ourselves. We should take this type of opportunity for an ‘adult session’, but even with Cory standing in just his boxers as he changes into his tux, I’m about as far from turned on as possible.
“You going to get ready?” Cory asks.
This snaps me out of my thoughts. “Yeah,” I say and head to the bathroom to touch up my eyeliner.
“It’s going to be great, you know,” Cory calls from the main room.
“Yeah,” I say again without soul.
“They’re going to love you.”
This is the hardest part for me. Because while I can believe in Cory’s proven movie-making skills, mine are far from adequate. The night before we boarded the plane, I finally brought myself to watch our movie. Up to that point, all I’d seen were little clips while we were actually filming. Never a finished product.
And I was worse than I could have imagined.
I thought that my voice wouldn’t sound so grating on my own ears after it was processed and turned into an actual movie, but I was wrong on that. Just as I was wrong to believe that I could actually act under Cory’s directing and Sarah Park’s tutelage. And that was sitting alone on the bed, watching the movie on a laptop screen. Tonight it’s going to be projected a hundred feet high and picked apart by thousands of critical eyes while I’m stuck in the same room, imagining their judging thoughts.
Cory’s working on his bowtie when I finally start slipping into my dress. It’s a gorgeous couture thing that I actually didn't borrow from Sarah this time.
