Darling Sweetheart Read Online Free PDF Page A

‘how do you know where I grew up?’
    ‘What do ya think of Peter Tress?’ he countered, ushering her back inside the ersatz library, where he took up a pose against the fireplace. He rapped it, as if to check it really was marble, then fixed his eyes on her. He uses those eyes, she thought, to pin people down, like butterflies in a display case.
    ‘What do I think of Peter? Gosh. He’s great.’
    ‘Ya think so?’
    ‘I loved his last film,’ she offered.
    ‘Yeah, but this is a much bigger movie we’re makin’ here. Do ya think he can handle it?’
    ‘I’m sure we’re all feeling our way a bit, but–’
    ‘Two weeks of shootin’ and ya think we’re still feelin’ our way?’ He looked as if he might pounce, like she’d been a bad butterfly.
    ‘Uhh… what I meant was I’ve been trying to find my own feet…’ The hallway door opened and Talbot returned with a tray bearing a single glass of beer, which she accepted, nodding her thanks.
    ‘But what d’ya think of Tress?’
    Emerson was obviously getting at something, so she chose her next words more carefully. ‘Peter is great. I wish I had the same confidence in myself as I do in him.’
    ‘Oh yeah?’
    ‘I’ve been rehearsing like mad, trying to get Roselaine.’ She gave a small smile. ‘Actually, I thought maybe you’d invited me up here tonight to fire me.’
    ‘No way!’ he guffawed. ‘You were great today, kiddo! You don’t
need
to rehearse to get Roselaine!’
    ‘It’s nice of you to say so, but I’m–’
    He pressed on, as if she hadn’t spoken. ‘You don’t need to rehearse; all ya gotta do is fall in love with me.’
    ‘What?’
    ‘I said, ya gotta fall in love with me.’
    She flushed. ‘Oh yes, I see what you mean – Roselaine falls in love with Bernard.’
    ‘No! Not our characters! I mean you, Annalise Palatine, have gotta fall in love with me, Harry Emerson!’ She felt her face flare up, but there was no escaping those eyes. ‘Who is Bernard?’ he demanded.
    ‘Sorry?’
    ‘Who is Bernard?’
    ‘Bernard is a twelfth-century crusader who realises that–’
    ‘Don’t be stupid!’ he barked. She flinched. ‘Bernard ain’t no crusader – Bernard is me!’ He smiled like a cartoon wolf with big, perfect teeth. ‘When ya get to my level, kiddo, ya don’t actany more! It don’t matter who I am – a soldier, a spaceman, a secret agent – the audience pays to see Harry Emerson!’
    ‘I suppose…’
    ‘Bruce Willis!’
    ‘Eh?’
    ‘Bruce Willis always plays Bruce Willis, right? Clint is always Clint, just like Marilyn was always Marilyn! You follow?’ Dumbly, she nodded. ‘Good! So now ya see why fallin’ in love with Bernard is the same as fallin’ in love with me!’
    ‘I think so…’
    ‘Lemme ask ya somethin’ – how would ya like to win an Oscar?’
    ‘I…’
    ‘When I said you deserved an Oscar for your last movie, I wasn’t bullshittin’, but since that was just some liddle British indie thing, it ain’t gonna happen. But when
Heresy
opens next year, the studio will spend millions on marketin’ alone and if you and me set that screen on fire, they’ll sink millions more into pushin’ for a few of those little gold statues!’ He suddenly leaped forward, seized her arms and skewered her with those eyes. ‘Annalise! This is what Peter Tress does not understand! To hell with the script – you and me, we gotta set that screen on f
ire!’
He glanced down; in his enthusiasm, he had forgotten she was holding a glass of beer. Her hand and the floor were now beer-soaked. ‘Oh shit… I’m sorry… TALBOT!’ The butler materialised almost instantly. ‘Take Miss Palatine to the john and get me Frost down here, asap!’ Wordlessly, Talbot relieved Annalise of the near-empty glass and led her to a door off the hallway.
    She washed her hands. The bathroom was bigger than the kitchen of her apartment. She studied her reflection, but her reflection seemed rather alarmed, so she practised