Страница 27 из 62
The sounds of their lovemaking sailed into the dark crevices of the Lame Duck studio.
The T-shirted cameraman moved in close, as if the probing lens of the Ikegami video camera was the third member of a menage a trois. The rest of the crew was bored, leaning on light stands and tripods, sipping coffee. Outside the hot glow surrounding the mattress Da
"I won't miss it."
"Yesterday, Sharon 's leg was in the way. You couldn't see diddly."
"I won't miss it," the cameraman responded. And moved closer to the action.
Rune returned to her meditation. What would Nicole be thinking about? They'd been at it for half an hour. She seemed aroused. But was it fake? Was she concentrating on-
Then, a disturbance.
The actor had stopped his pumping and was standing up. Dazed, bleary, breathing heavily. Nicole glanced down at his crotch and saw the problem. She leaned forward and went to work with her mouth. She looked pretty skillful but the man didn't respond. He suddenly retreated out of the lights. Nicole sat back and took the bathrobe that a young woman, an assistant, offered her. The actor looked for a towel, found one and pulled it around his waist.
"That's it," the actor called. Gesturing, palms out, with a shrug.
Da
"Third time this week, Joh
"The air conditioner?" Traub's head swiveled to his imaginary mezzanine. "He needs-what?-thirty-two degrees before he can get it up?"
Joh
"I'm paying you a thousand dollars for a hard dick. This film shoulda been in the can a week ago." "So shoot around me. Put in some stock inserts." "Joh
"You're strung out is what you are. You know what coke does to your yin-yang. You can be a lawyer, a doctor, a musician, probably even a fucking airline pilot and do all the blow you want and it isn't going to fuck up your job. But a man who makes porn can't do as much as you're doing."
"Just give me a couple of hours." "No, I'm giving you the fucking boot. Get out." Nicole had been watching from the side of the bed. She stepped toward them. "Da
Joh
He shoved Joh
"Cut it out."
"Shut up!" The words were jarring, pitched high, frantic. Everyone on the set must've heard. But they all looked away-at scheduling sheets or invoices or scripts. Or they stared at the coffee and tea they stirred compulsively.
Joh
Nicole walked to the fallen coke shaker, picked it up and offered it tentatively to Joh
"You dumb bitch. Didn't you hear what I just said?"
"I was just-"
Traub had turned back to Joh
Nicole said, "Da
Traub turned on her. Said viciously, "A real actress'd know how to get him up. You're fucking useless."
Nicole was obviously frightened of him. She swallowed and looked away from his tiny piercing eyes. "Don't fire him, Da
Traub's face broke into a dark, simian grin. "An impotent porn star, having trouble getting work? You're shitting me."
"He's having a rough time is all."
Traub said to Joh
Joh
"Asshole," Nicole whispered.
Traub spun around and grabbed her teased hair. He pulled her head close to his. "Don't… you… ever."
Nicole whimpered. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…"
Anger swept through Traub. He drew his hand back in a fist. But he looked around. A beefy, T-shirted assistant stirred. The cameraman took a step toward them. Traub waited a moment and released her hair.
Nicole's hand rose to her head and massaged her scalp. Traub gave her a fake smile again and patted her cheek. She flinched, waiting for a slap. He laughed and slipped the vial of coke between her breasts. "There's my-"
She tossed her hair and walked away.
Traub called after her, "-good girl."
"Shoes," Nicole said to Rune. "A lot of times I think about shoes."
"Shoes? Like on your feet?"
"Yeah. You know. Just shoes."
Rune and Nicole were sitting in one of the dressing rooms at Lame Duck, which wasn't a room at all but just an area set off from the rest of the studio with cracked and mouse-gnawed Sheetrock.
They were on the fourth floor, the floor above the bombing. Nicole had said the company had decided not to move, which she thought was real tacky, what with Shelly being killed just below them. "Da
Rune had snuck up to the dressing rooms after the incident with Traub. There she'd set up the camera and zoomed in for a close-up of Nicole's face. She'd lowered her voice to sound like Faye Dunaway's inNetwork and asked, "When you're on the set with the cameras rolling and you're with a man, doing it, what do you think about?"
"Just one man?"
"I mean, with anyone."
"Da
Rune said, "Okay, say you're on the set with two men."
Nicole nodded to show she understood the question and started talking about shoes.
"I think about Ferragamos a lot. Today, before that thing with Joh
"I love shoes. I have about sixty pairs. I don't know. They calm me down. For some reason."
"Sixty?" Rune whispered in astonishment.
"That was one difference between Shelly and me. I spend everything I make. She put it all in mutual funds and stocks, things like that. But, hey, I like clothes. What can I say?"
"I saw a couple of your films. You looked like you were really turned on, really into it. And you were just faking?"
Nicole shrugged. "I'm a woman; I've had lots of practice faking."
"You must think about something other than shoes."
"Well, there's technical stuff to worry about. Am I at the right angle, am I looking at the camera, did I shave my underarms, am I repeating the same words all the time?"
"Who writes the dialogue?"
Nicole glanced nervously at the camera. She cleared her throat. "We make up most of it. Only the thing is, you'd think it'd be easy. You just look at the camera and talk. But it isn't like that. You kind of freeze up. You know what to say, the words and all, but the how to soy it part, that's what's so hard for me."