Viveca was pleased with herself. Crashing the audition had been a brilliant idea. She’d hoped to get the scoop about her competition, but she’d come away with something even better: a role with one of the hottest directors in Hollywood, and at a time when she’d had no new part on the horizon. She’d been picky since Paris Fling, not wanting to follow that triumph with a bad career move. It was tricky having pulled off a departure role. If she were to do another light musical comedy, it would be seen as a commercial move, just cashing in on her newfound success. Another comedy role would be nothing new, just a pale imitation of what she’d just done. She might even be offered Paris Fling 2, a complete sellout. A meaty character role was just what she needed. And she’d be playing opposite Tessa Tweed, a chance to show her up in a head-to-head competition. There were tricks to upstaging another actress, and Viveca knew them all. Tessa Tweed would never know what hit her.
Bruce was out in the home gym doing his exercises when she got back to her house. Viveca had outfitted the rec room just for him. Daily workouts were an important part of his regimen. Structured physical activity went a long way toward taking the edge off his post-traumatic stress. Barbells, floor mats, a chinning bar, punching bags (both speed and weight), a stationary bicycle, and an outdoor lap pool gave him all the physical activity he needed.
Bruce was cooling off with a moderate jog on the treadmill when Viveca came in. He slowed the machine, hopped off, and hugged her, not noticing how sweaty he was from the workout. It was the sort of social cue he was always missing.
“So, what happened?” he said. “Did it go well?”
Viveca extricated herself from his clutches. “It went very well. I got a job.”
“What?”
“I got a part in the picture.”
“In a Tessa Tweed picture?”
“Not her picture. Peter Barrington’s picture. It’s about a bank robbery.”
“That’s her picture. I saw her talking about it on TV.”
“I’m sure you did.”
“Will you be talking about it on TV?”
“I’m sure I will.” Viveca exhaled. “You’re sweaty. Go swim your laps.”
“Okay.”
Bruce went out the door and dove in.
Viveca went into the kitchen to make herself a drink. She was going to have a lemonade but decided on something stronger. She got out the blender and started whipping up a margarita.
It was amazing how Bruce could do that; send her crashing to Earth with some offhand comment. Yes, she’d be talking about it on TV. As would everybody else.
Damn.
She had taken a part in a film with Tessa Tweed. An excellent strategic move in terms of showing the public who was a better actress, but that wouldn’t come until later, long after the Oscars. Right now the only public perception would be that she had taken a supporting role. In a Tessa Tweed picture. God, those words grated. Why did he have to phrase it that way? Unfortunately, Bruce often put his finger on the simple truth. And that simple truth was what the immediate public reaction would be. Viveca Rothschild playing second fiddle to Tessa Tweed.
What an image to put in the minds of Oscar voters who had yet to cast their ballots. Would Academy members be influenced by the public perception? Of course they would. Academy members could be influenced if the wind changed. Otherwise she’d already have an Oscar.
This had to be handled with kid gloves.
Viveca went to the phone and called her publicist. “Annie, sweetheart. We’ve got to get out a release.”
Annie laughed. “Don’t we always.”
“No, this is serious. I just signed on to do a picture.”
“I heard.”
“You heard?”
“That’s why I’m the best publicist in Hollywood. I’m on top of things. That’s what I do.”
“We’ve got to get out a release, and it’s important it resonate the right way with Oscar voters. The wrong publicity could cost me a win.”
“Nothing’s going to cost you a win, kid. I tell you, you’re a lock.”
“I signed on to do a picture with Peter Barrington at Centurion Studios. We need to put out a release, and it must be before the studio does.”
“Not going to happen.”
“Why not?”
“The studio beat you to the punch.”
“You’re kidding.”
“I’m reading their release now.”
“Shit.”
“Hey, I don’t know what you’re worried about. They did a perfectly adequate job. Not as good as I would, but all things considered.”
“Damn.”
“What’s the matter?”
“We can’t have Oscar voters getting the idea that Tessa is a star and I’m a supporting player.”
“That’s not the tenor of the release.”
“‘The tenor of the release’? Don’t give me biz-speak. What does it say?”
“Nothing that’s going to hurt you with Oscar voters. It says ‘Oscar Nominees Tessa Tweed and Viveca Rothschild to Co-Star in New Film.’”