gay. Sebastian is their patron saint, after all.”
“‘Their’ saint?” She draped the suit over a chair. “You’re starting to sound obsessed.”
“Don’t use that word.”
“If you’re worried, tell him you invited me here to win me back.”
“I wasn’t implying—”
“Weren’t you? Tell me more about Nadia then. I want to make sure I get it right.”
“His panel is tomorrow. That’s what you’re getting ready for. You wouldn’t even go to the awards dinner with me.”
“Paul.” Her voice softened, and she sat across from him. “You hate yourself for whining and pleading with Fran, so why not practice being strong with me?”
Her fingers found the cameo brooch at her throat. She saw him looking and smiled.
“You wore my Valentine’s Day present,” he said. “So you are here to be with me.”
Her mouth turned down. She unfastened the brooch and set it on the dresser.
“Can I trust you?” she asked, her back to him. “I need to know that you hear what I say to you.”
“Leah, I heard you. Can you hear me?”
Leah. Not a saint’s name either. Leah, an Anglo-Saxon word meaning “clearing” or “glade.” In Hebrew, it meant “weary one.” She did look tired now. Tired of him.
“My name is Nadia here. And the point isn’t to make you feel bad. I didn’t come down here just for you, and you shouldn’t trust anyone who says something like that. Right?” She turned to look at him, brows raised, but he said nothing. She sighed. “Then get me a copy of the Babylon script. All I have is the synopsis.”
He stared.
“Just get it. Then you’ll be settled with me about this.”
“Why is Mercer so important? He’s a gimmick artist, not a director.”
“You’re right. He’s just like anyone else. In fact, he’s very much like you.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean.”
Had he heard wrong? “Really? After the olive, I thought he was going to slap you.”
“I’ll prove it to you, since you’ve dared me. Which means I’ll need your help for a few more days.”
In Greek, Leah meant “glad tidings.” The thought almost made him laugh.
“It won’t take any longer than that,” she said. “I know you like setting challenges. Otherwise you wouldn’t have sent me St. Sebastian .” Paul’s face grew hot, but she only added, “Yes, I’m going to the panel tomorrow, and I’m going alone.”
They couldn’t fight here. The entire floor was rented to the studio’s guests. He went to his room and returned with his copy of the shooting script, which she took and shut the door without a word. He knocked again.
“Leah?” He kept his voice low.
The second hand on his watch crawled around the face four times before he heard a flutter and a clang from her room, as if she had thrown something against the blinds. A magazine, perhaps .
Or a script.
Go back to the Assyrians, and the name Leah meant “mistress” or “ruler.” Paul waited another minute, then returned to his room.
Chapter 3
Friday, March 31, 9:45 a.m.
Paul glanced at the film festival brochure in his lap. The panel on “Story and Symbol in the Visual Narrative” was scheduled to begin in fifteen minutes.
At the front of the conference room, panelists talked to the moderator, a former StarBorn employee named Gloria who was now a film festival coordinator. When he turned to check the en-trance, Leah stood just inside the door by the coffee urns.
“Le—Nadia!” He raised his brochure to catch her eye.
She frowned but came down to accept the seat he’d saved her. Going to the panel alone, she had said. Searching for Mercer was more like it. Glee rose in his chest as he said, “Looking for someone?”
Her eyes were on Mercer, who had just entered with two men, the taller of whom wore a Rolex. They both sported golf shirts and calfskin shoes, and the shorter man’s jaw was lined with manicured stubble. Mercer, in jeans and a fitted black shirt, pinched the bridge of his
“‘Their’ saint?” She draped the suit over a chair. “You’re starting to sound obsessed.”
“Don’t use that word.”
“If you’re worried, tell him you invited me here to win me back.”
“I wasn’t implying—”
“Weren’t you? Tell me more about Nadia then. I want to make sure I get it right.”
“His panel is tomorrow. That’s what you’re getting ready for. You wouldn’t even go to the awards dinner with me.”
“Paul.” Her voice softened, and she sat across from him. “You hate yourself for whining and pleading with Fran, so why not practice being strong with me?”
Her fingers found the cameo brooch at her throat. She saw him looking and smiled.
“You wore my Valentine’s Day present,” he said. “So you are here to be with me.”
Her mouth turned down. She unfastened the brooch and set it on the dresser.
“Can I trust you?” she asked, her back to him. “I need to know that you hear what I say to you.”
“Leah, I heard you. Can you hear me?”
Leah. Not a saint’s name either. Leah, an Anglo-Saxon word meaning “clearing” or “glade.” In Hebrew, it meant “weary one.” She did look tired now. Tired of him.
“My name is Nadia here. And the point isn’t to make you feel bad. I didn’t come down here just for you, and you shouldn’t trust anyone who says something like that. Right?” She turned to look at him, brows raised, but he said nothing. She sighed. “Then get me a copy of the Babylon script. All I have is the synopsis.”
He stared.
“Just get it. Then you’ll be settled with me about this.”
“Why is Mercer so important? He’s a gimmick artist, not a director.”
“You’re right. He’s just like anyone else. In fact, he’s very much like you.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean.”
Had he heard wrong? “Really? After the olive, I thought he was going to slap you.”
“I’ll prove it to you, since you’ve dared me. Which means I’ll need your help for a few more days.”
In Greek, Leah meant “glad tidings.” The thought almost made him laugh.
“It won’t take any longer than that,” she said. “I know you like setting challenges. Otherwise you wouldn’t have sent me St. Sebastian .” Paul’s face grew hot, but she only added, “Yes, I’m going to the panel tomorrow, and I’m going alone.”
They couldn’t fight here. The entire floor was rented to the studio’s guests. He went to his room and returned with his copy of the shooting script, which she took and shut the door without a word. He knocked again.
“Leah?” He kept his voice low.
The second hand on his watch crawled around the face four times before he heard a flutter and a clang from her room, as if she had thrown something against the blinds. A magazine, perhaps .
Or a script.
Go back to the Assyrians, and the name Leah meant “mistress” or “ruler.” Paul waited another minute, then returned to his room.
Chapter 3
Friday, March 31, 9:45 a.m.
Paul glanced at the film festival brochure in his lap. The panel on “Story and Symbol in the Visual Narrative” was scheduled to begin in fifteen minutes.
At the front of the conference room, panelists talked to the moderator, a former StarBorn employee named Gloria who was now a film festival coordinator. When he turned to check the en-trance, Leah stood just inside the door by the coffee urns.
“Le—Nadia!” He raised his brochure to catch her eye.
She frowned but came down to accept the seat he’d saved her. Going to the panel alone, she had said. Searching for Mercer was more like it. Glee rose in his chest as he said, “Looking for someone?”
Her eyes were on Mercer, who had just entered with two men, the taller of whom wore a Rolex. They both sported golf shirts and calfskin shoes, and the shorter man’s jaw was lined with manicured stubble. Mercer, in jeans and a fitted black shirt, pinched the bridge of his
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