“I’m sure Steven would talk her out of that very quickly.”

“And why is that?”

“Because he loves her. And when a man loves a woman, he only wants the best for her. Now walk me to the car, honey, will you?”


“What happened with you and Rachel?” Maddy asked Dan.

They had sat in silence for a moment after Steven and Bridget left. Maddy had been self-conscious, worried that people were watching them. But Dan was still her director and this was their premiere. It was all right to talk to him.

“She wanted to get married and have babies, and I think she realized I wasn’t there yet.”

“I liked her.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“I thought she was smart, and good for you.” She could sense he didn’t want to get into it, so she changed the subject. “Hey, by the way, congratulations on your deal. Do you have a start date for production?”

“Congratulations to you as well.”

Oded and Dan had gone out with their script based on The Nest in August, with Dan attached to direct. They had changed the title to Hirshman’s Mistake. When Maddy first read the script, she almost called Edward Rosenman to have him take her name off, it was so lewd and immature, filled with fart jokes and frontal nudity. Oded and Dan wound up selling it for $1 million to Worldwide Films, of which Maddy got a third. She would be able to join the Writers Guild of America, and despite the questionable material that had allowed her to join, she was excited about it in case she wanted to write something of her own down the line.

When the film went to auction, she’d had mixed feelings. She knew that if she hadn’t been with Steven, she wouldn’t be represented by Edward and never would have gotten such a generous collaboration agreement. But Dan had been naive to think she would sign that ridiculous piece of paper. And if $333,333 was perhaps too much for the pages she had helped write, $1 was too little.

“I just hope they don’t try to fire me from Hirshman’s when The Valentine comes out,” he said, sipping from his tumbler. “I think it’s going to suck.”

“I’m sure it won’t suck.”

“I should have listened to you. If I had listened to you and stayed in Venice, then maybe . . .” He gave her an intense, longing gaze.

“Don’t think that way,” she said, and looked down at the table. She could feel him staring at her, and when she looked back up at him, his eyes were soft. She felt a rush of feeling for him, for what they had made together, for what she had left behind to be with Steven.

“Do you ever wonder what might have happened if . . . if you’d never gone to Berlin?” he asked.

“No,” she said. “I loved you, but I was meant to be with Steven.”

“Do you really believe that?” His tone wasn’t cruel, but it was deeply doubtful.

“Of course I do. Why would I be with him if I didn’t feel we were meant to be together?”

He nodded and gave her a wincing smile that she didn’t like. And then he was gone, dirty-dancing with a couple of girls who didn’t seem much older than twenty, all of whom were grinding against Oded. Who looked like a human teddy bear.

She tossed back her cocktail and went to dance with Zack, Reggie, and Kira. Maddy asked Reggie a little about her work, and she said it could get really depressing but she believed in it, because at night she went to sleep knowing she was helping people. Reggie seemed like the kind of person who wouldn’t be competitive with Kira, who would be content to let Kira be her outrageous self.

After a while Maddy got dizzy and went back to her table to drink some water. She couldn’t get drunk—if she drank too much and got sick, the story could get out and it would be a disaster. This was one of many new things she hadn’t had to worry about a year ago. She spotted Kira making her way over from the dance floor. She was wearing high platform heels with ribbon straps that went around her ankles. She sat down next to Maddy and mixed herself a vodka cranberry from the bottles in the center of the table.

“Kira,” Maddy said, glad to have a second alone with her. “Watching the movie tonight, you know, I was so impressed. I never told you how good I think you are.”

“Thanks,” Kira said with a sigh, as if she didn’t enjoy the compliment. “I have this really good teacher in the East Village, and he’s teaching me that process will take me a long way. I’m not a natural, but I work hard.”

“I know you do. You and Steven are similar that way. You two work harder than anyone I know.”

Kira seemed to have matured over the past year. She seemed less outrageous and more serious. “Steven works at a lot of things,” Kira said.

“What do you mean?”

“I just mean that my goal isn’t exactly to be compared to him in the hard-working actor department.”

“Why not?”

“I have other idols.”

Trying not to take her bait, Maddy said, “It’s kind of insane that so much has happened to us since Mile’s End.”

“Yeah, who knew?”

She and Kira had never spoken of their kiss, which seemed like it had happened years ago and not months. Maddy felt the need to smooth things over. “When we were together,” Maddy said, “I mean, that night at the festival, I just want to say—I’m sorry.”

“Why?” Kira asked.

“Because I was lonely. And I—I used you.”

“Huh. You used me.”

“Isn’t that what happened?”

Maddy could see Zack and Reggie approaching. Kira said, “I don’t think so at all. I went for you, remember? I was drunk. You could have been anyone.”

The other two had sat down. Maddy lowered her head, not wanting to talk about it in front of Reggie. “Don’t be weird about it, Maddy,” Kira said. “Everyone at film festivals hooks up. Reggie knows we sucked face at Mile’s End. Zack, too. He’s not just my agent. He’s my friend.”

Zack glanced away, evidently not wanting to embarrass Maddy further. On the dance floor, Dan and Oded were doing 1970s-style moves to the delight of all the girls. “You didn’t tell Dan, did you?” Maddy asked.

“No, but I can tonight, if you want me to.” Kira started to get up, bluffing or not bluffing. With Kira, it was impossible to know.

“No!” Maddy said a little too loudly. “What would be the point?”

“I want both of you to know,” Zack said, raising his eyebrows Groucho Marx–style, “that I would have no problem representing two actresses who have sexual history. It’s excellent publicity for the agent.”

Maddy felt as though they were all making fun of her. She wanted to melt into the floor. “You know what your problem is, Maddy?” Kira asked, slurring her words. “You get all worked up over stupid stuff. It’s because you think you’re the center of the universe.”

“I don’t think I’m the center of the universe,” Maddy said.

“Even before you married Steven, with your fancy French honeymoon, and your, like, fifty-bedroom mansion, you always thought you were better. Better than Sharoz and me and even Dan. You looked down on us.”

“Kira,” Reggie said, putting her hand on Kira’s arm. Kira shook her off with irritation.

“I don’t look down on any of you!” Maddy cried. “I just told you how good you were in the film.” She looked at Zack pleadingly, hoping he could explain it, but he was examining the grain of the table.

“All you ever wanted was fame,” Kira barreled on. “Don’t get me wrong, I want to be famous, too, but there are limits to what I’ll do. I’m not as cynical as you. No matter how much I believed someone could help me, I wouldn’t do what you did.”

“What are you talking about?” Maddy asked.

“The contract, of course.”

Did Kira know about her postnup? Had it been reported on the Internet? Reggie was trying to whisper in Kira’s ear, but Kira was dodging her.

“What contract?” Maddy asked.

“I told you it’s not true,” Zack said to Kira.

“Oh God, don’t pretend you don’t know,” Kira exploded. “It’s all over the Internet. The marriage contract. For appearances. The one that pays you a salary to be his wife. You have to go out with him to public events and smile for photos, but you don’t have to fuck him. You get a million a year plus a million-dollar bonus for each baby, and you agree to do IVF with his sperm so the baby looks like him, too. And you get a bump to two million if he wants you to stay more than five years, but when it’s over, you get nothing.”

She didn’t like that “million a year” figure; it paralleled the postnup too closely. But a payout to appear as someone’s wife? Who came up with this kind of thing? Did people do this? She couldn’t tell if Kira believed it or was pretending to believe it to provoke her.

All her friends were turning against her. Dan being crass about Steven, and now Kira accusing her of taking money, like some kind of high-class prostitute.

“I don’t know where you read this,” she said, “but just because something is on the Internet doesn’t make it true,” She looked at Zack for help. “There is no marriage contract. Zack, tell her.”

“There’s no contract,” he said. “Kira, leave her alone. You had too much to drink.” At least he wasn’t rushing to defend Kira.

“Yeah, honey,” Reggie said. “Let’s go outside. Get some air.” She helped Kira to her feet in the platforms.

“Steven and I love each other,” Maddy said. “It was messy, I’m not saying it wasn’t. But it’s real. How could you not think it was real? What kind of person do you think I am?”

Reggie was guiding Kira away from the table. “Why don’t you go back to your haunted mansion with your old man,” Kira said to Maddy, “where you belong? Why waste one more minute with the riffraff?” And with that, she stumbled toward the door.