“You must be so proud of Steven,” Kira said, kissing her on both cheeks.

Maddy introduced her to the men. Billy and Ryan ogled her openly. “So what are you doing out here?” Maddy asked.

“I moved.”

“Really? I thought you were going to stay in New York forever.”

“I did, too. But there’s more work here, and this was the right time to make the transition.”

“Ah, you’ve crossed over to the dark side,” Billy said. “For years I tried to live in London, and then I realized I was fooling myself.”

“What about Zack?” Maddy asked Kira. “Is he still in New York?”

“Yeah, but he’s moving out in a couple of weeks. He transferred to Bentley Howard’s L.A. office.”

Maddy was hurt that Zack hadn’t called but didn’t want to say so. “Is Reggie moving out, too?”

“We broke up. It was too stressful, I was never around. And she joined A.A., so she wanted to be with all her A.A. friends. She got super-neurotic about alcohol. I couldn’t kiss her if I’d taken echinacea.”

“There’s alcohol in echinacea?” Maddy asked.

“Oh yeah,” Ryan said. “A drop of echinacea is like a fifth of Maker’s.”

“I can’t believe how different you look, Kira,” Maddy said. “Did you lose weight?”

“Eight pounds. I did this cleanse. Don’t worry, I’m not ano. It’s just that after the shitting I’ve done the past week, there is nada in my lower GI. Later.” She walked off, swaying her hips, and Maddy watched the men watch her go.

“I wouldn’t mind getting a look at her lower GI,” Billy said. Ryan whispered something to him, and Billy bent over laughing.


Maddy and Steven arrived home from the private after-party at three. There was plastic hanging from the bedroom ceiling, but these days she hardly noticed it. The renovations were never-ending. She was living in Roman ruins.

In bed, she said, “I’m proud of you,” and pulled Steven close. “You were so good as Tommy. You’ve found your stride.”

“Are you saying I didn’t have a stride before?”

“I just mean you’re a spy, and you do all this action, but it’s like you’re you at the same time. And everyone loves you.”

“Do you?”

“More than all of your fans put together.”

She felt close to him, connected. He was most pleasant to be around when he liked himself. If Tommy Hall made him feel relevant, funny, and strong, then she would support The Hall Fixation and the inevitable sequels.

When she got on top of him, she could feel his erection. He moved his hands on her and took his time, kissing her, sucking her breasts. Maybe it was the champagne at the party, but soon she was close to coming.

He moved her so they were lying on their sides, and then he pivoted her and lifted her haunches so he was taking her from behind. As he thrust himself in and out, she wondered if he was imagining that he was Tommy Hall making love to the girl in the movie, Cherry Rodriguez or Chevy Rodriguez. She still wasn’t clear on the name.


One day in the early fall, Bridget took Steven to lunch. The Hall Fixation had taken in a whopping $58 million in its first weekend, continuing to build over the spring and summer. The nation and the world had been swept by Tommy fever. Business sections ran long stories on the long-lead marketing campaign and branding, Steven was swarmed by Tommy fans every time he went out. Critics extolled its performances and pacing; a New York Times reviewer called it “a postmodern action film.” Over the past few years, the highbrow reviewers had taken to praising the occasional popcorn film. They would use words like “camp” and “entertaining” to show they knew they were going out on a limb. But even the good reviews made little difference to the box office; films like The Hall Fixation were critic-proof.

Apollo Pictures had already green-lit the next adaptation, The Hall Surprise, with Bryan Monakhov adapting and directing again. Bridget had read the first draft and liked it better than the first.

“I got an interesting call from Neil Finneran at Apollo today,” she told Steven at the restaurant, after their salads had arrived. “Faye Fontinell in The Hall Surprise? He had a really interesting idea about who could play her.”

“Yes?”

She said the name and Steven jerked his head back in surprise, then bit a piece of arugula, chewing and not saying anything. She was anxious about how he would react, because she was already sold. The thing about these franchises was that you kept having to outdo yourself. Each Tommy Hall needed to be bigger, splashier, and better than the one before. And SteMad was the hottest couple in Hollywood. The mere announcement of Maddy’s participation would get audiences primed.

“But when Tommy first sees Faye on that beach in Tulum,” he said, “she’s in a bikini.”

“Maddy’s a beautiful woman.”

“You know what she’ll say: ‘I didn’t get an MFA to wear a bikini.’ She only did all that sex in Husbandry because it was Walter.”

“If the bikini is an issue, I’m sure Bryan will be open to rethinking it. Neil feels Maddy will elevate Faye, and he thinks the two of you would make a fantastic combination. Like Andress and Connery. Bryan wants her. He knows her from Mile’s End.”

Steven wasn’t sold on the premise. Maddy was carving out a niche as a dramatic actress capable of period films and English accents. The Tommy films weren’t her brand.

“It’s important for an actress to keep audiences guessing,” Bridget continued. “When you played a small-town cuckold, you didn’t think you’d be headlining an action franchise two years later, but it worked out. You know why? Because you adapted. Smart actors keep switching genres.”

Bridget didn’t want to have to spell it out to him, but it was important that she stay in the good graces of Finneran. She didn’t want to be a manager forever. The effort-reward ratio was demoralizing, increasingly so in an era when costs were being cut. The list of stalled or dead projects grew longer each year. All the great representatives moved on eventually to do what they’d wanted to do all along: make taste. And the boldest way to be a tastemaker was to create entertainment on a global scale. By running a Hollywood studio.

“She’ll be insulted if I ask her,” he said.

“You have to present it to her the right way.”

He was not sure he could. She seemed happy doing long, talky films based on unreadable six-hundred-page books. When she was happy, she was busy, and he liked her to be busy.

But The Hall Fixation had changed the way he thought of himself. He liked being on top again. It would help to have someone high-profile as Faye. “What’s he offering?”

“Two million. For two weeks’ work.”

He leaned back in his seat, considering it. He and his wife were an object of fascination, due in part to that hellish Christian Bernard affair. There were infertility stories and constant items that one or the other was cheating with costars, or they were in couples therapy.

He had spent years hating the press but had never questioned the importance of public relations. If Maddy did Faye Fontinell, audiences would go nuts. The prurient thrill of watching them make love on screen. At all the press appearances, she would be by his side, in her own right, as a star and not just a supporter.

He brought it up over a quiet dinner at a four-star Italian restaurant inside a two-star Beverly Hills hotel. He waited until dessert. Tiramisu. Maddy had a bit of cake on the corner of her lip and was so unsuspecting that he almost felt guilty. He eased into it, telling her how excited he was about Monakhov’s first draft. And then he told her about Faye Fontinell. He explained that they first meet on a beach, but she goes on to be a real sparring partner for Tommy, an intellectual equal. He chose not to mention that Faye was a stripper before she joined the NSA.

And then he landed it: “Neil Finneran wants you to be Faye.”

“What?”

“Think about it. We’d get to work together. Be in the same city. The same home.”

She shook her head slowly. “But Corinna’s role was demeaning,” she said. “I know you don’t think so, but I do. Faye sounds like she’s only in the script to give teenage boys boners.”

“I can make you an associate producer. We can rework the scenes. I promise you. We can get it into the contract.”

“They meet on a beach. So she must be wearing a bikini.”

“We’ll make it boy shorts. We’re in a very strong bargaining position, with The Hall Fixation being such a success.”

“How can I say it more clearly? I love that you’re happy playing Tommy, but this isn’t the kind of project I see for myself.”

His face became cross. She hadn’t seen this look in a while. The last time was after he went off on Jo and told her she had to get well. “If you loved me, you would do it.”

“Steven.” She sighed. “That’s not what this is about.”

“It is. Neil wants you, and I want to make him happy. It’s important that I maintain a good relationship with the studio.” He paused. “They’re offering you two million. For two weeks’ work.”

“Jesus. All to prance around on a beach.”

“You already have legitimacy. All those nominations and awards. There will be more when this awards season comes around. You can afford to play with your image. Audiences already have respect for you.”

“So I can afford to lose some? Is that what you’re saying?”

“This will be seen as meta, not desperate.” He flashed her his Tommy Hall eyes. “Honey, don’t you want to spend time with me while we’re working?”