8:38 P.M.

“TOBIAS, WHAT DO YOU DO?” Conrad asks. He’s ordered another bottle of Merlot and is filling a glass for Audrey, despite her mock protestations. Jessica is glancing at her watch and looking around for our server.

“I’m a photographer,” he says.

Next to me, Jessica shifts in her chair.

“A man of the arts,” Audrey says. “How lovely.”

“You worked with some of the greats,” Tobias tells her.

Audrey smiles. For the first time all night I find myself inexplicably and uncontrollably drawn to her. The way her lips part, just slightly, like she’s about to spill an age-old secret.

“Bob Willoughby was my favorite,” she says. “He worked for Paramount. We had quite a relationship. He had such a way with light. He used to shoot me in the very early mornings. Can you imagine? It was always dawn.”

Tobias sits back. He looks satisfied. I think he told me this once about Willoughby. Sometimes Tobias would drag me out of bed in the very early mornings, too. He was always chasing the light.

“What about William Holden, really,” Conrad asks. “I always wanted to know.”

Audrey blushes at the mention of her rumored lover. She holds out her wineglass. Conrad chuckles. “Complicated,” she says.

“That’s it?” Conrad asks.

“No,” she says. “But a lady never tells.”

“Well, sometimes after two glasses a lady does,” Conrad says.

Audrey pretends to be insulted, but I can tell she isn’t, not really. She’s warming to him. I can tell she likes him, and that makes me feel good—that she has someone here who can make her comfortable, make her laugh.

Audrey coughs a bit.

“What do you remember most?” Robert asks her.

She takes a small sip. She’s thoughtful. It’s a look that works well on her. “The early years with the children,” she says. “That was all I ever wanted, really. To be a mother.” She stops then, holding up her pointer finger. “Well, wait, are you asking me what I remember most, or what I enjoyed the most?”

Robert looks baffled. I realize, to him, they are, of course, the same.

“Either,” he says.

“Both!” Conrad says.

“I loved Tiffany’s,” she says. “Most people think I didn’t; I never really knew why.” She’s opening up here. She’s like a drop of dye in water that begins to change the liquid. Slowly, fluidly, she becomes colored. “It was a hard shoot. I had a lot of trouble being that outgoing because I’m quite an introvert…” She trails off before picking back up. “But it’s maybe my proudest picture. Capote and all.”

“You don’t say,” Robert says.

“Roman Holiday is my favorite,” Jessica says. “Sabby and I used to watch it all the time.”

“It’s true,” I say. I remember us curled up on the couch. Burnt popcorn between us. It seems like so long ago now.

“That’s very flattering,” she says. “That was my first film. I remember the project fondly. Thank you.”

And then, as if remembering herself, she waves her hand. “I’ve been going on,” she says.

Conrad shakes his head. “Nonsense,” he says. “We want to know.” He looks straight at me.

“It’s fascinating,” I say. “We’re all very big fans.”

Tobias nods. It’s true, of course. He is one. But who isn’t a fan of Audrey Hepburn?

“And I would just like to say we have yet to talk about your global service,” Conrad says, tapping the notebook. “Quite the humanitarian.”

“No, no, it’s just what we must do. Especially now.”

“Especially,” Conrad echoes.

“The world has become a dark place in recent years,” Robert says.

Conrad shakes his head. “It always was. People are just paying attention.”

“You cannot have good without evil,” Audrey says. “They are like DNA strands. Intricately and irrevocably spun together. Sometimes good wins, sometimes evil does. We do not fight for good’s permanent triumph, but for the balance. And so it goes.”

“And so it goes,” Conrad echoes.