The fire smoke rising from the lot in Century City might or might not have been part of a shoot, but Reggie could see the flames, and they were real, regardless of the cause.
He walked toward them.
Against the backdrop of the fire, Laura was in the embrace of a popular American action hero, whom Reggie recognized but did not consider to be competition. Laura did not take actors seriously.
The director called a break; Laura saw Reggie from the set, and she crossed toward him on the sidelines. She stopped several feet away and just appraised him for a moment.
“That’s the look I want,” said the director, passing by.
“Can we talk?” asked Reggie.
They walked away from the shooting set to a side street on the lot. They were alone.
“Did you identify your mysterious snitch?” said Laura.
“Ahh. Of course.”
“She’s been building a pot of resentment for years. I should have seen it.”
“Yes,” said Laura. “But the gradual things are so hard to recognize.”
“My apologies for supposing it was your friend,” he said.
“You’re still referring to him that way, as if he were especially significant.”
“Is he?”
“Probably not in the way you suppose.” Then Laura smiled slightly and added, “It isn’t someone else, Reggie. It’s just that it’s been a long while on a roller coaster.”
“If you were looking for a steadier ride,” said Reggie, taking that in, “I don’t know why you didn’t choose Nigel at the time.”
Laura looked surprised at that remark. “There are those moments when a woman wants to be nurtured, Reggie,” she said, considering it, “and those moments when she wants to be . . . well, trifled with, I suppose. There’s a certain freedom in that, and when one is very young, freedom can be more important than comfort.” She paused. “You both presented yourselves to me with bright feathers flashing in the sun; I had to choose. And God help me, I chose you. I chose the trifler.”
Reggie stepped toward her on that, but he paused when he heard what she said next.
“I suppose I’ve lived with that kind of insecurity long enough that I’ve gotten used to it,” she said. “That’s an odd thing, isn’t it? But it might be true.”
“It doesn’t need to be—,” began Reggie, but she stopped him.
“In any case—I’ve been offered another role. I mean, literally. After New York, I can have two months’ work in the South Seas. It will be a shameful amount of money, and for just a few shoots and languishing in the sun.”
Laura paused. Reggie had the sense that she was waiting for a very specific response from him.
But he couldn’t shake the feeling that at this moment she was waiting out of mere curiosity.
“I don’t see how I can top that,” he said.
She seemed annoyed by this, and she looked away for a moment. Then she said, “Have you ever noticed, Reggie—how your brother will take the chance even when he’s sure he’s got none?”
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Think about it,” she said. “Ring me when you’ve got a clue.”
“How do they say it in this town? We’ll do lunch?”
“A shame if just that,” said Laura as she turned away, or, at least, it sounded like it. The director was calling places.
Laura walked back onto the set.
Reggie walked back to his taxi.
He paused as he opened the door, and he looked back. He could still see Laura on the set.
She put a hand to her face for a moment, and Reggie thought he heard her say something to the director about the damn bloody smoke.