Nantucket Gala (A Nantucket Sunset #12)

Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

June 1985

Nantucket Island

T he limousine pulled up outside The Hutton Hotel to a kaleidoscope of flashing cameras. Sophia clutched Francis’s hand, watching his face for some sign of how he felt. Throughout the drive, he’d been quiet, too quiet, as though his mind was elsewhere. But when she finally asked, “Darling, how are you?” he beamed out the window and almost didn’t answer.

After a long moment of silence, he answered, “I’m feeling ready, darling.” But his voice sounded far away. And although Sophia sat entrenched in the back of the limo beside him, she found that she’d never felt so lonely in her life.

What was going on?

But when the door opened, Francis got out first, smiled triumphantly at the paparazzi, and helped Sophia out. Sophia matched his smile as best as she could, but the happiness felt trapped elsewhere. It couldn’t fully reach her eyes. As she and Francis walked up to the entrance of the Nantucket Gala, she felt thousands of flashes and heard thousands of questions.

It’ll be over soon , she told herself. We just have to get enough money and get out of here.

It was all for the purpose of art.

It was all for the film.

Suddenly, she and Francis were led to the table of honor at the far end of the elaborate courtyard. What looked to be fifty tables with white tablecloths were set up in front of a stage, and servers were passing out glasses of champagne and appetizers. Everything smelled of fish. Sophia’s stomach heaved, and she thought she might have to run to the bathroom and throw up. But there wasn’t time.

Suddenly, she noticed several photographers in the corner of the courtyard, surrounding someone and calling out questions. Sophia craned her neck to see none other than Natalie Masterson. Natalie had gone overboard yet again for her outfit, wearing a low-cut black dress that showed too much of her back and far too much of her very long dancerly legs. Now, her smile was electric, and she looked as though she flirted with every single member of the paparazzi. Sophia flared her nostrils and held Francis’s hand tighter. Why on earth had she made that introduction? Why had she thought Natalie would be perfect in The Brutal Horizon ?

Sophia had met Natalie back in 1977. They’d been cast as sisters and rivals in a World War II-era student film, both agreeing to it because they had little else to do and because they’d been impressed that the director was a woman. By then, Sophia had already written scripts and dreamed of a better life in the film industry. But she was still banking on where her beauty could take her.

During filming, Sophia and Natalie had struck up a friendship, one built upon frustrations within the industry and annoyances at the Los Angeles dating field. Both of them wanted to get married and have children, that was true, but at the same time, they wanted to have iconic careers like Elizabeth Taylor or Katharine Hepburn. They struggled with guilt; they struggled with knowing what to want and how to get it.

After filming, Natalie had met someone and told Sophia she thought she might marry him one day. She stopped acting for a few years; she stopped answering the phone. In fact, Sophia thought maybe Natalie had either dropped off the face of the earth or returned home. When she tried looking her up, she had no luck.

By the time Sophia met Francis and became Francis’s mistress and later married him, Sophia and Natalie were completely out of touch.

That was, until that fateful night in Cannes.

Francis and Sophia were at the Cannes Film Festival to support A Sacred Fig . The year was 1983, and Sophia had just finished writing a script she felt sure was the best she’d ever written: The Brutal Horizon . Freshly married to Francis and fresh-faced and freshly immune to any of life’s turmoils, Sophia threw herself into Cannes celebrations, going with Francis to every party they were invited to. And there wasn’t a party they weren’t invited to. Mr. and Mrs. Francis Bianchi were key players that year.

It was at one of these parties that Sophia ran into Natalie Masterson.

Natalie was there with her new boyfriend, the handsome actor Dean Chatterly. Immediately when Sophia saw him, she was struck with the realization that Dean was far more handsome than Francis. Not that that really mattered. Sophia loved Francis with everything she had. She loved his mind. She loved his spirit. She loved his fame. Dean was up-and-coming, but people said his acting wasn’t up to snuff. People weren’t sure if he was going to go all the way. But Natalie didn’t seem to care about that.

When Natalie and Sophia saw one another for the first time, they shrieked and jumped and laughed on that beautiful beach. Natalie screamed again when she saw Sophia’s engagement and wedding rings.

“I’ve been following you in the news!” Natalie said. “You’re Queen Bee of Hollywood! My sister!”

Sophia cackled. “Where have you been? You disappeared!”

Natalie explained that her fiancé had left her for someone younger and wealthier. “I didn’t know what to do, so I hid out for a little while, moving often, biding my time. I did a few commercials for money, which is how I met Dean Chatterly. Look at him! Isn’t he divine?”

Sophia agreed he was a dish.

“But why are you here?” Sophia asked.

“A director is courting Dean,” Natalie explained. “He wants him in his next picture. He says he’s going to be a big star.”

Sophia congratulated her. “Do you think you’ll get married?”

Natalie snorted. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be stupid enough to get engaged again. You can’t trust men, Sophia. Surely, you know that by now?” Her eyes glinted strangely. Sophia wasn’t sure what to think.

And then, as though he’d been summoned, Francis’s arms wrapped around Sophia’s waist, and he kissed her neck. Sophia giggled and leaned against him. “Hi, darling! I want you to meet someone. An old friend, Natalie Masterson.”

Francis extended his hand. “Charmed.”

Natalie shook it. “It looks like you’ve made my sister very happy.”

“Sister?” Francis’s eyes widened.

Sophia giggled. “We played sisters in a film together.”

“Oh? Any good?” Francis asked.

“It wasn’t bad!” Natalie said, throwing her head back. “Of course, that was the last film I ever performed in. Maybe it was the end of my career!”

“Why would it be?” Francis asked.

“Exactly what I was thinking,” Sophia said.

Suddenly, Francis was distracted, bucking away to say hello to a producer friend. Sophia and Natalie settled into their private conversation again, at ease without the famous director there.

Sophia was struck with an idea. “Listen, I’m not supposed to say anything, but Francis just finished writing a new script. I’m sure if I told him to, he’d watch your audition.”

Natalie’s cheeks were cherry red. “You don’t have to do that for me, Sophia. I’m no charity case. And I’m getting old. I know that.”

“You’re not a day over twenty-five,” Sophia corrected her. “And you look twenty-one, tops.”

Natalie smiled. She said she’d appreciate it. “But if it doesn’t work out, no hard feelings. I promise you that.”

Now, two years after that fateful night in Cannes, Sophia watched Natalie out of the corner of her eye. It was hard to believe that after a series of auditions, auditions that had included some of the top-grade actresses in the business right now, Francis had opted for Natalie. Sophia told herself that it was partially due to Natalie’s lower monetary rate. She doesn’t demand such a high salary. She’s just starting out. After Natalie had learned she’d gotten the gig, she’d called Sophia and thanked her over and over again. “You saved me, Sophia. I don’t know how to repay you.”

Sophia hadn’t known what to think.

At first, she’d congratulated Natalie and thanked Francis for choosing her “friend.”

But she’d found herself stirring with unhappiness.

Natalie would be a world-famous actress after this.

I’d be nothing but Francis Bianchi’s wife.

It seemed tremendously unfair.

Now at the Nantucket Gala, Sophia and Francis sat as guests of honor at the long table near the stage. A glass of champagne glinted before Sophia, but she didn’t dare touch it. The baby. Because of the flashing cameras, she put a pretty smile on her face and pretended to be listening to whatever Francis was saying to Bernard, who sat across from them. Greta appeared a few minutes later, wearing a burgundy gown that brought out the darkness in her eyes. It was hard to believe that only a few hours ago, she’d been the portrait of a homemaker. Now, she was sultry and fabulous.

Natalie pulled away from the paparazzi and began to walk toward Sophia’s table. Sophia tried to remember the last time she’d seen her. Six months ago? Probably. It had been right before rehearsals had begun for The Brutal Horizon . Francis had wanted his actors to feel the intensity of their characters, even before they’d generated enough funds to make the entire movie. He’d wanted the film to have the same artistry as a play, which meant at least five hours of rehearsals per week, sometimes more.

Sophia hadn’t attended rehearsals. She’d stayed home and begun work on her next screenplay. Sometimes at her desk, she felt trapped in the chaos of her churning creative thoughts.

Sometimes she’d wondered what Francis was really up to.

Natalie was getting closer and closer. Sophia thought about running away. Why was she so frightened of this beautiful woman? They were once very close friends. Wasn’t I the one who stopped returning her calls? Sophia couldn’t recall the answer to this last question. Maybe Natalie had stopped calling first.

Sophia forced her eyes away from Natalie and pretended to listen to Bernard. But suddenly, Bernard was on his feet, striding up to the podium in the center of the stage. The crowd quieted, and people took their seats. Changing direction at the last minute, Natalie hurried to her table, where she sat next to the main actor in The Brutal Horizon . Once there, she leaned over to whisper into his ear. He laughed.

Everything Natalie did seemed easy and free.

Bernard was already talking at length about his “ex-mentor and dear friend, Francis Bianchi.”

“Tonight, we honor one of the greatest directors ever to play the game,” Bernard said. “It is a great travesty of our time that great artists like Francis are no longer granted the funds to make their next films. During this era of blockbuster features, we get watered-down pictures and sloppy storytelling. We get bad acting and action flicks. I ask myself, what will that do to our society? What kind of ruin will that bring?

“When I sit down in front of a Francis Bianchi motion picture, I know myself to be in good hands. I know I’m about to be whisked off on a stupendous journey of love, philosophy, and fear. Every single question humanity has ever been plagued with finds a focus on Francis Bianchi’s works. And for that reason, we are gathered here today to ensure he can make The Brutal Horizon . I ask, as a writer and an artist but also as a simple man in the world, that you pledge as much money as you can to this mission. If we show the production companies how much we want artistic features like The Brutal Horizon , maybe they’ll change their tune. Maybe, in some small way, we’ll change the world and the future of art.”

Everyone applauded. Sophia brought her palms together and held them like that. Her ears were ringing. A strange, sinister feeling was dropping from her chest to her stomach.

“Let me call Francis himself to the stage!” Bernard said, extending his arm. “Welcome the next master of storytelling!”

Sophia felt a horrible lurch in her gut. Almost as though someone had reached inside and pulled. Sophia gasped, but nobody could hear her over the thundering applause.

The baby.

Tears filled her eyes.

What was wrong with the baby?

But Sophia couldn’t get up and run to the bathroom. Right now, she was trapped at the table, smiling prettily up at her handsome and famous husband. If she ran away now, the paparazzi and all their guests would think something was amiss. Maybe they’d really think they were having marital problems. And they weren’t! Not really. Why did she have to make everything so difficult?

Pain churned in her lower stomach. She placed her hand near her pelvis and thought, It’s okay, baby. Look at how handsome your father is. Look how much everyone loves him. You’re safe here. Stop this pain. Stop whatever this is. Please.

Her cheeks ached with her smile.

The applause quieted. Everyone was captivated with Francis, their handsome director.

“I am overcome,” Francis said. “On behalf of myself and my beautiful wife, Mrs. Bianchi, I thank you for your attendance here, for your pledge of support, and for your interest in the future of storytelling. I still remember the first film I ever saw as a boy. The year was 1944, and war was on everyone’s mind. The idea that you could go into a little dark room and be transported to new lands, different storylines, and different dreams floored me. It captivated my attention for months. All I did was dream about that film. The fact that I’m able to make my own pictures now is beyond my wildest dreams. The Brutal Horizon is a story very close to my heart, one that came to me during a very difficult and dark period of my life.”

It never came to you , Sophia thought darkly as her stomach twisted. You didn’t know anything about it until I showed you the script.

Suddenly, she felt like a fool.

The pain grew more and more powerful. But Francis’s speech was never-ending. It seemed he had a thousand people to thank. It seemed he had a thousand childhood stories to tell.

It seemed he couldn’t get enough of the sound of his voice.

Please, baby , Sophia begged. Please, be all right.

But she was beginning to think her luck had run out.