“You look beautiful, Tanya, and so relaxed and happy.” She had pulled a pale blue cashmere shawl over her shoulders, and it was perfect with her eyes, draped softly around her. “You look like a Madonna,” Douglas said, admiring her like a painting. “I love these days, before we start a film, when everything is beginning, when we have no idea what we'll capture yet, what magic will enthrall us. Once we start, our days are full of surprises, all of which are unknown right now. I love watching it unfold. It's like life, only better, because we control it.” That was always an important element to him, Tanya could sense that. Control was essential to him.

Jean Amber walked over to talk to them, eating an ice cream sundae and a cookie. There had also been soufflés made to order, and baked Alaska. Max said the flames always made him want to toast marshmallows over it, but they didn't last long enough. He looked like the sort of person who would do that, unorthodox, funny, comfortable with himself. He was known to have a fondness for whoopee cushions, which he used on the set during breaks. He had an outrageous sense of humor, which Douglas didn't. Douglas was far more serious, and thought the sets should be kept quiet and in control, and lunch breaks spent with people studying their next scenes in the script. He was like the headmaster, and Max the funny, warm, outrageous teacher who had a profound affection for kids. To him, no matter how old they were, the actors were all his children, and they loved that about him. They treated him like a father, and respected him profoundly, both for his skill with his craft which was incomparable, and his kindness, which was equal to it. Douglas was far tougher and had to worry about insurance and budget. He kept his eye on the shooting schedule, and rode actors and directors when things were getting out of hand. His movies were so tightly run and meticulously budgeted, he never let them get out of control. Max did often. He loved spoiling his actors, and thought they deserved it for hard work and a job well done. He was all in favor of cast parties, particularly one like this. Douglas did a hell of a job on that score.

The party lasted till nearly one, as people who had worked together before found each other with delight and amazement at their good fortune to be working on the same film again. They were like kids at camp, happy to find camp friends from the previous summer. Or regulars on cruise ships, who were thrilled to find people they had sailed with before. It was all a matter of luck who you found working with you on a movie. Douglas and Max were particularly good at building casts with talented, compatible people who worked well together. They both felt this one would, and Tanya was a welcome addition. Everyone she had met that night was thrilled to have her among them, and several had read her book, which genuinely touched her. Several of them told her which were their favorite short stories in the anthology, so she knew they had really read it, and weren't just saying it to be polite.

The general atmosphere that evening was one of warmth and excitement. Everyone was happy about this film. It was a star-studded cast, and everyone knew Max's directing was flawless. They all agreed they were lucky to be there, on this cast, and luckier yet to have been invited to Douglas's house for dinner. Everything about Hollywood had a dream-come-true quality to it. It truly was the Magic Kingdom, and they were the chosen people, the luckiest of all to have risen to the top in Hollywood, and luckier still if they stayed there. But for now at least they were riding high. There were a handful of top Hollywood actors and actresses in the movie. And there were no important guest stars who'd be showing up later. Max liked a cohesive cast that worked together in harmony for the duration of the entire film. That created an atmosphere of benevolent cooperation, which only happened if the cast was together constantly and knew each other well. They really became a family then, and Tanya could already feel it. It was happening. Someone had sprinkled fairy dust on them. It was beginning. In fact, it had begun.

Max offered to drive her back to the Beverly Hills Hotel afterward. He didn't mind, and Tanya hadn't brought her limo. She had been given one for the duration of her stay, but she felt guilty keeping the driver sitting there all night, when all she was doing was going back and forth to the hotel. She had planned to take a cab, which she mentioned to Max, as he put a finger to his lips and silently scolded her.

“Don't say that. Douglas will take your car away. And why not keep it? You need it.”

She said goodnight to Douglas after that, and thanked him for dinner and a lovely evening. She felt like a schoolgirl saying goodnight to the headmaster. He was in an animated conversation with Jean Amber, who was disagreeing with him vehemently, although goodhumoredly, about something. She was telling him how wrong he was.

“Can I settle an argument for you two?” Max volunteered, always happy to help.

“Yes,” Jean said staunchly. “I think Venice is much more beautiful than Florence or Rome. It's much more romantic.”

“I don't go to Italy for romance,” Douglas said, teasing her and loving it. He had no problem at all being surrounded by beautiful women. He had made a career of it. “I go for the art. The Uffizi is my idea of heaven. Florence wins hands down.”

“The hotel we stayed in there was awful. I was stuck there for three weeks on location.” She said it with the broad experience of a twenty-five-year-old, although one who had traveled widely, more than most, while making movies, but she saw little of the towns and cities where she worked. She never had time. They came to work on a movie, and left immediately after to go to another location. It was a very narrow focus on the world, but better than none. Tanya would have loved her kids to meet her, and hoped they would in time. She seemed like a lovely young woman, and she knew her children would be wildly impressed to meet her.

“I prefer Rome myself,” Max offered, confusing the matter further. “Great coffeehouses, good pasta, lots of Japanese tourists, and nuns. You see more nuns in Rome, and I love the old habits. You don't see them anywhere else.” Tanya laughed at his comments.

“I think nuns are scary,” Jean commented. “I went to Catholic school when I was a kid, and hated it. I didn't see any nuns in Venice.”

“Then clearly that's a point in its favor for you. I kissed some girl under the Bridge of Sighs when I was about twenty-one,” Max added. “The gondolier scared the hell out of me when he said that meant we'd be together forever. She had bad skin and really bad buck teeth, I had just met her. I think that traumatized me for Venice. It's amazing what colors your feeling about a city. I had a gallbladder attack in New Orleans once, and I've never wanted to go back since.”

“I made a picture there, on location,” Jean nodded sympathetically. “It sucked. Really humid. It screwed up my hair the whole time.”

“I lost mine in Des Moines,” Max said, rubbing his bald head, and they all laughed.

Tanya thanked Douglas for the evening then, and a few minutes later she and Max left. He drove her back to the hotel. She had had a surprisingly good time.

“So how are you liking Hollywood?” Max asked her conversationally. He liked her a lot. If she hadn't been married, he'd have put the make on her. But he had too much respect for the sanctity of marriage, and she didn't look the type to screw around. She was a nice woman, and he was looking forward to working with her. Like Douglas, he had great respect for her work, and Max liked her as a person.

“It's a little crazy, judging by some of the people I talked to tonight, but it's fun,” Tanya answered him honestly. “I've been down here a lot for my soaps, but this is different.” It had impressed her to meet so many big stars that night. She'd never done that before, except for the regulars on the soaps, who were minor celebrities in their own right. Though very minor in most cases. She had met the big guns tonight.

“It's definitely its own special little world. It's a very incestuous community, in the movie business anyway. Making a picture is like taking a cruise, it's a tiny little microcosm of the world, and has nothing to do with real life. People meet, instantly become friends, fall in love, have affairs, the movie ends, it's all over, and they move on to something else. It feels like real life for about five minutes, but it isn't. You'll see when we start the movie. There'll be five hot romances starting in the first week. It's a crazy way to live, but at least it's not boring.” It certainly wasn't that. She had already noticed several of the young stars flirting that night, most noticeably Jean Amber and Ned Bright, who were the film's two leads. They had been eyeing each other all night, and chatted for a while. She had wondered about that.

“It must be hard to have a real relationship down here, given all that, if you're in the movie business,” she said, as they approached the hotel.

“It is. Most people don't want one. They'd rather play around and pretend they're having a real life. They're not, but most of them never figure that out. They think they are. Like Douglas. I don't think he's had a serious relationship since the Ice Age. He goes out with women for a while, usually fairly important women, but I don't think he ever lets anyone get close. It's not his style. He's all about power and big business, and buying art, I guess. I don't think he's interested in love. Some guys are just like that. Me, I'm still looking for the Holy Grail,” he said, smiling happily. Tanya really liked him. Everyone seemed to. He had a huge heart, and it showed. “I never go out with actresses. I want some nice woman who loves bald guys with beards, and wants to rub my back at night. I went out with the same woman for sixteen years, and we were perfect for each other. I don't think we ever had a fight.”

“So what happened?” Tanya asked, as they stopped under the awning of the Beverly Hills Hotel, which was home for her now, although it didn't feel that way yet. She wondered if it ever would. She still felt out of place here, and not fancy enough to be staying there. She felt like a fraud, and surely not a star.

“She died,” Max said quietly, still smiling. The memory of her still warmed his eyes. “Breast cancer. It was the shits. There'll never be anyone like her. She was the love of my life. I've gone out with some other women since. It's not the same. I'm okay. I get by.” He smiled. “She was a writer, too. She wrote miniseries in the days when they were a big deal. We used to talk about getting married, but we never needed to. We felt like we already were married in our hearts. I still go on vacation with her kids every year, between pictures. They're great people. Two boys, both married. They live in Chicago. My kids love them, too. They remind me of her.”

“She sounds like a nice woman,” Tanya said, sounding sympathetic as they sat in his car and talked. He drove a beat-up old Honda, in spite of the big fees he made for directing movies. He had no need to show off. It wasn't his style, unlike Douglas, with his fabulous house and incredible art. She had been impressed. Anyone would have been. She'd never seen paintings of that caliber outside a museum.

“She was nice,” Max said of his lost love. “So are you.” He smiled at her. He liked who and what she was. The kind of person Tanya was was written all over her. He had liked her the moment they met, and even better tonight. She was genuine and solid, which was rare in Hollywood. “Your husband is a lucky guy.”

“I'm a lucky woman,” she said, smiling wistfully. She missed Peter a lot. They had lost the comfort of daily physical contact, the warmth they shared at night. It was a lot to lose. She was anxious to call him as soon as she got back to the room, although it was late. She had promised she would, even if she woke him up. She had talked to him and the girls before she went out. They were doing fine so far, and she was going home in two days. She could hardly wait. “My husband is a great guy.”

“Good for you. I hope I meet him sometime. He should come down during the filming, and bring your kids.”

“He will.” She thanked Max for the ride and hopped out. And then she remembered her lunch with Douglas the following day. He was meeting her at the Polo Lounge, which was convenient for her. “Are you coming to lunch tomorrow?”

“No, I'm meeting with the cameramen, to discuss equipment with them.” Max used a lot of complicated, unusual lenses to achieve the effects he was famous for, and he wanted to be sure he had them all on hand. “Douglas likes getting to know people individually. I'll catch up with you next week, when our meetings start. Have a nice weekend with your kids.” He waved as she got out and he drove off, and she smiled on her way back to the bungalow. He was going to be great to work with. She wasn't as sure about Douglas. He still unnerved her, although she had liked him better tonight. He had seemed less scary to her, viewed in his natural habitat, where he was visibly more at ease.