Leslie traveled very simply, and never took an entourage with him. He said he didn't need an assistant as long as the concierge was good, and the Gritti Palace was known for their remarkable staff. He used the hair and makeup people on the set and never brought his own. For a major star, he was surprisingly undemanding and without pretension. He said he preferred less fuss and attention. Unlike Madison, who had brought her own hairdresser, two makeup artists, her sister, two assistants, and her best friend with her. She was known for giving producers long lists of her personal needs and demands before signing a contract for a film. She traveled with a personal bodyguard and a trainer too, and she had demanded that all of them be put up in the same hotel with her. It didn't win her friends on any set where she worked, but she was the biggest female box-office draw in the world at the moment, so no one argued with her. They just gave her what she wanted to keep her from making a scene, which she never hesitated to do.

“It's a little wearing to be around all that,” Leslie admitted to Coco, as they left for the set the next day. Coco was wearing a warm sheepskin jacket in the cool morning air before the sun came up, and a favorite old pair of cowboy boots. She looked fresh and young and beautiful with no makeup on, her big green eyes, and her mane of copper hair. She was everything he admired in a woman, honest, simple, natural, undemanding, without putting on airs. Her goodness and integrity shone from within, which enhanced everything about her. They made a handsome pair as they strode onto the set, and walked into the trailer that had been set up for him, under the arches around St. Mark's Square. She couldn't imagine how they'd gotten it there, but it gave him a place to be, and relax or study between scenes.

The hairdresser and principal makeup artist were waiting for him. They had been hired locally, but spoke good English, as Leslie chatted easily with them and sipped a cup of steaming coffee, and Coco sat quietly in a corner, watching the scene.

Despite the early call, they didn't start shooting until nine o'clock. Breakfast had been brought in for all of them, and finally, there was a knock on his dressing-room door to say that they were ready for him. They had been setting up the lighting till then with a stand-in who took his place for him, a young Italian of similar size and coloring. Leslie was wearing a well-cut black suit and turtleneck for the scene, with black suede shoes. He looked sexy and beautifully put together as he left the trailer in full stage makeup, which hardly showed. He never let them overdo it, and his hair had been meticulously done and sprayed.

Coco watched in fascination as the other actors in the scene appeared. The director took his place next to the cameraman and instructed him. He knew exactly what camera angles he wanted, and spoke to the actors quietly. Coco had been on sets before with her sister, but there was a seriousness and intensity about this, which was new to her. The actors in this film were the biggest stars in the business. No one took it lightly, and they didn't want to miss a shot. There was a fortune to be made if it was a success, and Oscars to be won for extraordinary performances. That was obviously on everyone's mind. There was no fooling around here.

She stood quietly where she'd been told to stand, so as not to disturb anyone, and she watched Leslie carefully as he rolled through the first take of the scene. Madison wasn't in it and it was another hour before she appeared, in a sexy red cocktail dress she was only half-wearing, with a coat over it, with her famous cleavage and her long spectacular legs, and sexy high heels. She went right into the scene with him and had to run across the square. Someone was trying to kidnap her, and Leslie was running after her, trying to rescue her, although she was supposed to have no idea who he was. It was a complicated, intricate plot, and Coco knew the story from reading the script, and helping him learn his lines. She remembered the scene, but it was different here, with actors giving electrifying performances and a tension you could feel. Carabinieri were helping to keep the portion of the square clear that they were using, and someone silently gave Coco a folding chair so she could sit down. She nodded her thanks, and a few minutes later a woman with blond hair sat down in a chair next to her. Coco had no idea who she was, other than that she was someone in Madison's entourage.

“She's good, isn't she?” the woman said to Coco, during a break. “I would kill myself if I tried to run in those heels.” Coco laughed in response.

The woman didn't ask who she was or why she was there. There were so many people on the set that no one bothered to ask. Like the other woman, and everyone else on the set, Coco had a pass on a cord around her neck, which meant she was part of the crew or cast, or someone's entourage. “They look good together, don't they?” the woman said, watching them more closely, as Coco studied them too. She hadn't really thought about it, but they did. Leslie had his arms around Madison in that scene. She was out of breath from running in the scene before, and melted slowly against him when he finally caught her. It made Coco faintly uncomfortable to realize they did look good together, which was why they had been cast for their parts. “Did you see the piece about them in the magazines last week?” the woman asked casually, glancing at Coco again. “They looked hot. Stories like that get interest going in the film. And who knows what will happen by the time they leave here?” The woman grinned. Coco gave her a weak smile, and looked slightly confused as the woman obligingly took a fan magazine out of her enormous tote bag and handed it to Coco to read.

Coco gulped as she saw the picture on the cover. It was a picture of Leslie and Madison kissing, with a headline that ran above it and said, “Too hot to handle. New romance for Leslie and Madison begins in Italy.” Coco didn't want to read it, but was mesmerized by it, and flipped the magazine open to the right page. There were several more photographs of them, two of them kissing, and one where they were both looking startled, as though they'd been interrupted doing something they didn't want to be seen doing. Her stomach turned over as she read it. The article said that he'd broken up with his last girlfriend in May, who'd accused him of being gay. And it went on to say that he looked anything but while diving into a hot romance with Madison Allbright on the set of their new movie, being filmed on location in Italy. The article said nothing about Coco, and her appearance with him in L.A. She handed back the magazine to the woman a few minutes later and thanked her. Coco was feeling sick.

This was what her sister had meant. This was what it was like being in love with a major star, who slept with his costar in every film. They had been there for two weeks. It hadn't taken him long. And there was no denying what she'd just seen in the pictures in the fan magazine. He was clearly kissing her. She felt wooden as she sat there, watching him with Madison now, wondering how he could have had the bad taste and cruelty to invite her to Venice, when he was having an affair with his costar. Admittedly, he had invited her before he left the States, but he could have stopped her from coming if he had any heart at all. And he had made love to her for the past two days. What kind of man would do a thing like that? Apparently, a movie star. It killed Coco to admit it, but Jane was right.

She sat feeling like a robot, watching him do his scenes for the next three hours. All she wanted was to go back to the hotel and pack her bags. To hell with Leslie Baxter. There were tears in her eyes as she watched him. All she wanted now was to go home to Bolinas and cry.

Leslie came to find her when they were finished working, and walked her back to his trailer, where the caterers would serve them lunch. She noticed that he said something to Madison that made her laugh as they left the set, and he put an arm around her and gave her a hug. Coco wanted to throw up as she watched them, but she said nothing as she walked back to the trailer with him, nor once they got inside.

“How did it look?” he asked her, as he took off his jacket and sprawled into a chair with a smile at her. “It felt like shit in the beginning, and I still think the running scene looks stupid, but the director won't give it up. I liked the scene under the arches a lot better. It would look better too if they could get her tits under control.” Coco couldn't believe he was saying that to her after what she'd just read. He had suddenly become someone she didn't know. “I take it you didn't like it,” he said, looking worried, misinterpreting her silence as criticism of his performance, which upset him even more. He was a perfectionist about his work.

“I thought the scenes were fine,” she said quietly, sitting down in a chair across from him. She didn't know whether to tell him what she thought of him now, or wait until they got back to the hotel after work.

“Then what didn't you like?” Her face was suddenly white and drawn. He valued her opinion now, just as he had when he asked her to read the script.

“Actually, what I didn't like a hell of a lot,” she said, deciding to get it over with now and not wait, so she could go back to the hotel and leave before he finished work that night, “was the article someone just handed me on the set.”

“What article?” He looked blank, which disturbed Coco even more. He had always been honest with her, or so she thought, and now he was playing dumb.

“I can't remember the name of the magazine, I don't usually read that kind of crap. It was an article about the affair you and Madison are apparently having on the set. You might have mentioned that before I came over. It would have saved me the trip.”

“I see,” he said, as he dropped his head and stared at his feet, and then he stood up with a serious look. “I can imagine how you feel about it. If you don't mind, I'd like you to come with me for a minute. Am I assuming correctly that the person who gave you the magazine was one of the lovely people in Miss Allbright's entourage?”

“I think so. She never introduced herself. But I saw her arrive on the set with her.”

“Wonderful. That would be either her sister, one of her fourteen assistants, or her best friend from high school, all of whom arrived by private jet from their favorite trailer park.” He had opened the door to the trailer then and gestured for Coco to follow him. She hesitated for a moment, but he looked so ominous suddenly that she didn't argue with him. She walked down the steps and under the arches to a similar trailer nearby, considerably larger than his.

He knocked on the door, and without waiting for an answer, he opened the door, and pulled Coco in behind him. The trailer was full of people, and reeked of cheap perfume and smoke. There were people laughing, others on cell phones, wigs on stands, and she noticed the woman who had shown her the magazine, who smiled at Coco as they walked by her. Leslie walked through them to a room at the back, where he knew Madison hung out to get away from the others. He knocked, and at the sound of her voice, he yanked the door open, and stood glaring at her. She was sitting on a couch with a man wearing an undershirt and jeans, and his arms and chest were covered with tattoos. She looked up in surprise when she saw Leslie.

“Hi there,” she said with an innocent look. “Something wrong?” He had been fine on the set with her that morning.

“You could say that. One of your girlfriends showed Coco that disgusting piece in the fan magazine you invited here last week in order to fuck our lives up.”

“I didn't invite them,” she said innocently. “My press agent did. I can't control who he contacts.”

“The hell you can't.” He turned to Coco, looking absolutely livid. “Miss Allbright, or her press agent, as the case may be, issued an invitation to the sleaziest fan rags in the business to come over here and take our pictures. And someone in the process, we don't know who of course, mentioned to them that Madison and I are having an affair, in order to make them more interested in making the trip over. As it so happens,” he said, turning his furious gaze from Coco to his costar, “I am not having an affair with her, never have, and don't intend to, in spite of her remarkable figure and fabulous implants and extraordinarily beautiful legs,” he said, spitting the words out. “As it so happens, she is married to her hairdresser, who is this gentleman here”—he pointed to the man with the tattoos for Coco's benefit—“who works on every movie with her because it's in her contract, and he keeps a firm and loving eye on her. And furthermore, although it is meant to be the darkest secret on the set in order to keep her sexy image hale and hearty, at my expense in this case, she happens to be five months pregnant. And coincidentally it's an equally dark secret that she's happily married. Now that we've cleared that up, and you've screwed my life up with that bullshit you fed to the press, perhaps you'd like to explain to my friend here that what I'm saying is accurate. And by the way…” He turned to Coco again. “The photographs they took of the two of us kissing were from a scene we shot last week. I don't know who the hell they paid to get on the set, unless it was one of your people,” he said nastily to Madison. “But I don't need that kind of publicity at the moment. I happen to be in love with this woman, and neither she nor I needs or wants the headache from that kind of rumor.” There was practically steam coming out of his ears as Madison looked at him uncomfortably, and her hairdresser husband cleared his throat and walked out of the room. He didn't look the least bit jealous of Leslie, and apparently he had nothing to add to what he'd said. He smiled at Coco on the way out, and went to join the flock of hangers-on in the other room. Fights between costars were commonplace, and Madison got in a lot of them. Her husband preferred not to get involved and kept a low profile since their marriage was a secret. She handled her battles herself.