Avalon had disappeared.
Yes, she’d gone MIA in the past, hunkering down over a hot bit of gossip and refusing to answer her phone or her page until she’d written the final draft of her column. She considered this professional hibernation, and nobody could convince her to behave otherwise. Even when she missed important events, she didn’t consider it rude. Work was her god. She obeyed the power of gossip at all costs.
But this was different. She’d flaked on turning in anything for two issues, which was completely unlike her. At her lowest points, Avalon still finished her column. During her tenure at the paper, even a ski accident hadn’t stopped her from writing. She’d called her sources from her hospital bed, high on pain medication, gathering the information she needed. Now, Josh was worried. He didn’t expect her to get in touch with him. Not since she’d ended things so abruptly – obviously upset with him for some unexplained reason. But two weeks had passed, and if he could trust his co-workers to be honest with him, then nobody had heard a word.
He tried to hide his feelings, paying attention to the business of the newspaper that generally captivated him. Like Avalon, work balanced Josh’s life, centred him. That didn’t stop him from pretending he wasn’t looking at Avalon’s desk every time he went into the office. Each morning, he asked Alex, as casually as possible, if the man had heard from her, but Alex just shook his head, fingering a cigar and frowning.
The entire paper seemed different without her.
But worse than that, Josh was different, too.
* * *
With Avalon gone, at least temporarily, Alex gave Jessica the assignment she had spent her life dreaming about. From the time that she’d first decided to be a writer, all she’d wanted was a chance to prove herself. Yes, she’d done well on her school papers and on the underground ’zine in Paris. But those didn’t count in her mind. Now, Alex was giving her a real shot.
‘It’s a closed set,’ the managing editor said, handing over the only material he had on the film. Just a single piece of paper in a manilla folder. ‘I want you to write a piece on it. Even if the story is just about how difficult you find it to get any information whatsoever. It’s crazy. In a town like this, there should be leaks, but there aren’t. Even Avalon ran into a wall.’
Jessica’s hands trembled on the file. She wanted to open it. To see what was inside, but she forced herself to wait and listen.
‘It’s no big surprise that the armour is up. That’s always the case with a DeMarco production.’ At the words, Jessica tried hard to keep her face serene. Kelly was on the set. That was her pass. She listened carefully as Alex continued to brief her. He wanted the inside scoop, information about what was really going on behind the gates, and Jessica had a way of getting to the very core of the production. Would Kelly help her? That was an easy answer. He still called every week, ‘just to talk’.
‘I don’t know why,’ Alex began, ‘but I think you’re going to succeed on this one.’
Silent Movies
A DeMarco production is a silent film. Silent in the sense that nobody speaks about what happens on the set. No leaks. No chinks in the bricks. Is that possible? Could there even be a movie where none of the players sells out, nobody plays both sides? The answer is simple: yes and no.
Yes, in the sense that until now, we have heard nearly nothing about the new DD production. And no, because a source has been found. A double agent has come to our side. And here’s the news:
The genre is horror. But this is a horror flick like none other. No ghosts. No slashing killers. Nothing that you’ve seen before. DeMarco pushes limits. That we know. Even more interesting, however, is what we now know about the set. About the reclusive director and the way she handles, and that is manhandles, her actors –
Alex stopped reading to look over at Jessica. He had given her the assignment for several reasons. One, he thought she could handle it. Two, there wasn’t anyone else he would trust with the piece. Three, he really wanted to know what was up with Jessica and Kelly. Based on the way she’d written her review of Todd’s band, he knew that she’d put herself into the article, would explain, perhaps, where she was romantically without him having to ask. Yes, it was obvious to him that Kelly was spilling information. But if that was the case, then the two must still be together, right? Even after Kelly’s fling with Avalon. As if sensing his questions, Jessica started talking.
‘Can’t tell you who,’ she said. ‘But my source is good.’
He nodded, then said, ‘I’ll read the rest. If I can print it, how do you want your name?’
Jessica thought for a moment, and then said, ‘Red Riding Hood.’
* * *
Sasha was with Dashiell again. She wasn’t sure exactly how it had happened. She’d spent the evening planning on confessing her situation to Jessica. State the fact that although she’d told Jessica she was doing night shoots, in actuality she’d been stripping again. Trying to slide together enough money to finish her film.
But Jessica hadn’t come home, out on some hush-hush assignment, and Sasha had been left pent up, with words waiting to come out but dammed up inside her. Wanting to talk to someone, anyone, she’d found herself dialling the number Dashiell had given her the last time he’d seen her. Calling and saying her name. Just her name. Then waiting to see what he would do. Leaving the decision up to him. If he said, ‘Sasha who?’ she’d know not to bother him. Sasha was no psycho. She’d never stalk him, never turn into one of those women she read about in what she personally had nicknamed Avalon Granger’s Misery Column.
No, she’d let Dashiell make the decision. And it was a big one. She understood easily if he didn’t want to play the game that she was offering. Because there was much more involved now than simply stretching out a one-night stand.
He loved her roommate, and she loved her roommate, so why couldn’t she let him alone? Simply get drunk until she couldn’t see straight and pass out? That’s what other people might have done in a similar situation. That’s what she’d have done before meeting Dash. But not now. Having sex had reminded her of the fact that she liked sex, and had missed it. Dashiell had awakened her libido. She needed warmth, human touch, another being.
And she needed someone who didn’t mind being filmed.
* * *
‘Explain it to me again,’ Dashiell said, smiling broadly at her, the skin at the corners of his eyes crinkling with obvious good humour. Sasha took a moment to drink in his expression. He seemed genuinely interested in what she had to say, and he also appeared excited at the prospect. His excitement fuelled her own, as well as clouded her ability to think straight, and she had to work to figure out how to make her desires clear.
‘I don’t know,’ Sasha stuttered, finding it hard to put into words what she had in mind. ‘It just turns me on.’
‘Directing. That’s what you do.’ He laughed now, and his laughter was sweet. Not mean-spirited at all. ‘But most people I know like to take a break from their job when they’re in bed.’ He was playing with her, teasing and pushing buttons. All right, so that was not exactly true. She was the one pushing the actual buttons. Playing with one of her high-tech cameras. Setting it up on the tripod, but still issuing directions to her man. She couldn’t help herself. When she had the camera anywhere near her, the commands spilled freely from her subconscious and out of her lips. Directing was in the very inner workings of her mind. It was what made her tick.
‘What will you do with the film?’ Dashiell asked next. She saw in his eyes the cunning that had kept him safe to this point in his life. The carefulness about himself, his reputation, his ego.
‘I don’t care. You can keep it. We can erase it. I just like the light on –’
‘You’re afraid of the dark.’
‘The red light,’ she corrected him, now joining him on the mattress and pointing to the tiny light at the side of the recorder. They were in his minuscule apartment, sprawled on the pull-down bed. It was the perfect setting for what she had in mind. Not exactly seedy, but bare bones. Nothing to detract from what they were going to do or how they were going to do it.
If she couldn’t focus on her film, at least she could focus on fucking.
* * *
She would be fine. Avalon knew that. She would pull herself together. Snap out of it. All those little platitudes that people said when someone was going through a break-up. Of course, she wasn’t really. She’d never considered Ian or Josh her boyfriends. But that didn’t make her feel any better.
Jessica had managed to console her for a short time. But once the girl had left and the moving van had arrived the next day, Avalon felt herself slipping away. Falling into a nothingness that frightened her. She was lucky, so lucky, when the phone rang. Screening her calls, she’d heard Lily leaving a message.
‘Tip for you, Avalon,’ the woman had said. ‘Call –’
But Avalon had picked up the phone, and before Lily could tell her what information she’d uncovered, Avalon had said, ‘I need –’
‘What do you need, Ava?’
‘I need your help.’
That had been two weeks ago, and Avalon was still ensconced in Lily’s tiny Laurel Canyon apartment. She knew she must be frightening people, but she couldn’t bother with what other people thought right now. All she could concentrate on was her own mental health. Selfish, perhaps, but Avalon was the queen of self-preservation. She knew exactly what she needed and this was it: Time Out.
* * *
Dashiell discovered that he liked the way Sasha looked in his room. She enlivened the place with her bright red hair and uncontainable energy. Besides, she didn’t seem to mind at all that there was nothing fancy in the furnishings. If anything, she appeared to appreciate the stark surroundings. Not questioning the fact that he’d spent very little money on the decorations. ‘It looks better on camera than a lot of fussy furniture,’ she assured him, now moving to kiss his strong chest, working her way in a line down his tight, well-muscled body.
He closed his eyes at the rush of pleasure, but Sasha wasn’t having any of that.
‘Watch,’ she said. ‘Watch me. Not the camera. Forget it’s there. But watch me.’
Tilting his head to the side, he regarded her with interest.
‘How are you going to make me forget?’ he asked.
‘Don’t you worry,’ Sasha told him, putting one hand on his chest and pushing him back down on the mattress. ‘Trust me. But keep your eyes open. I want you to force yourself to watch every move I make.’
It was a challenge. Dashiell understood that. And as always, he rose to the challenge, this time physically. Watching Sasha, he sucked in his breath as she moved to the bottom of the bed, and then licked her way up the line of his naked legs. She lingered at the indents of the muscles on his thighs, trailing her tongue along the cut ridges. Watching as she headed directly for his already towering erection, he couldn’t wait to feel her mouth on him. That moment before she parted her lips and introduced him to the heat of her mouth, that was sublime. Then it got even better as she met the head of his cock and gave it a warm, wet French kiss. Her tongue licked around the knob, then trailed down the length of his rod all the way to his balls. She cradled these in her mouth, bounced them on her tongue, kissed and caressed them.
His gaze flickered over to the camera, but Sasha immediately chastised him. ‘No,’ she murmured. ‘Pay attention to me.’
This was something new. Yes, he’d played with a video camera before. But at the time, he’d been the one cajoling his girlfriend to put out for the camera. Now, he was the star, and he enjoyed every single frame.