Feast of Saints Read online

  The first of September? That gave her only four weeks to digest the script, come up with a vampire character design concept and storyboards. She wasn’t sure it was enough time. None of her work had even come close to the horror genre. Given the nature of the subject matter, Jake’s character design would have to have many permutations, from demoniacally seductive to viciously cruel. It required a depth that had not been needed for her previous childish characters.

  Not only would the design be complicated, she’d have to strive for uncompromising perfection in the physical effects themselves – dental appliances to create realistic fangs, for example. There would be wounds, too, and blood, probably lots of it. As she’d learned on Fox and Cats, state of the art high-definition filming picked up every flaw, requiring a perfect transition between the actor’s natural skin and her makeup, body paint and silicone appliances. If the film employed computer graphics, which any film based on a Chris Nolan script undoubtedly would, an added layer of precision would be required.

  Jake had been quietly watching her reaction to Phillip’s description of the project. When he caught her pushing her pasta around her plate instead of eating it, he said, “It’s a big commitment. Six months, give or take. If you’re not up for it, you just need to say so.”

  His concerned expression and tone surprised her. For a second, a confession that she wasn’t sure she was up for it nearly left her lips. But, as quick as the concerned expression had come, it was gone, shuttered behind Jake’s cool, detached face.

  Placing his napkin on the table, he said to Phillip, “Let’s give Ms. Rose some time to consider the proposal. Give her a card, Phillip. She can let you know tomorrow.”

  Clearly the luncheon was supposed to be over. If she did accept the job, a decision she was apparently expected to make by tomorrow, she and Jake were going to be spending a lot of up-close and personal time together. Lilly refused to allow Jake, who was starting to remind her of her taciturn and overbearing father, to set the tone for their interactions.

  Before he could rise out of his chair, she asked perfunctorily, “Do you have any allergies?”

  He turned back toward her, brows raised, and answered, “No, not that I know of.”

  “What about claustrophobia?”

  “No.” The frown was back.

  Lilly’s estimation of Jake as an actor fell considerably. Playing the supercilious villain, it appeared, couldn’t be that difficult for him, since it seemed to be so close to his normal character and temperament. Turning to Phillip, she said, “I’ll need to schedule about two hours with him, as soon as possible. Definitely before he leaves for Hong Kong. I’ll bring an allergy test and all of the materials I need to get started.”

  Facing Jake, she said brusquely, “Some people are allergic to the latexes and silicones used in the skin applications necessary to make a character like this,” she tapped her finger on the book cover. The Feast of Saints book jacket pictured an elaborately drawn vampire, shadowed by two more angelic looking characters. “I’ll have to cast you so that I can make plaster molds of your face, chest, back, hands and feet. I’ll also have to make a mold of your teeth. I’m warning you now, it’s not pleasant. If you are claustrophobic, or have any other phobias, you’d better tell me.”

  Jake’s mouth twisted. “I think I feel one coming on now,” he said sarcastically.

  Phillip barged in before Jake could say more, “I’m sure we can work a few hours in before he slips away, luv. What else do you require?”

  “Just a place to work that cleans up easily, preferably tile floors and a sink nearby.” Looking over Jake’s expensive, hand-tailored, button-down shirt and trousers, she said, “Wear something comfortable that you don’t mind getting ruined.”

  Jake opened his mouth to say something, but Phillip cut him off. “Sounds like you’ve got things well in hand, Ms. Rose. Jake, I’ll take care of the details.” Standing, Phillip waved her toward the door.

  On the sidewalk, a black-jacketed young man with sandy brown hair waited for the men by the open back door of a smoky Bentley EXP 9 F, an experimental Bentley SUV not yet in production, which had pulled up right behind her Vespa. Jake turned to her, “May we offer you a lift?”

  “Oh, no, thank you. I’m good,” she said.

  “Cheers, then,” said Phillip, ducking into the car. “I’ll ring you Monday about the schedule.”

  Stuffed with blue cheese and good food, Lilly tottered to her Vespa.

  Chapter 3

  “Hold on,” Jake said from the backseat before Wil could pull away from the restaurant. He watched as Lilly opened the storage compartment on the ridiculously ancient motorbike, pulled out a white helmet and stowed the book and envelope. Giving the smoky Bentley a jaunty wave, she mounted the bike and rode off.

  Ty’s openly acknowledged crush on Lilly had become a family joke, but Ty had been serious when he told Jake to hire Lilly to design his character for Feast of Saints. Jake had been humoring Tyler when he’d acquiesced. He had instructed Phillip to offer her a small position, the equivalent of an intern, and to scout out a veteran effects artist to take charge of the design.

  But Phillip had seized on the idea of hiring Lilly. “Tyler is absolutely correct. She’s brilliant. I could find you someone more experienced but with the glut of vampires in entertainment, the approach would be tired, uninspired.”

  Apparently they’d decided to gang up on him. The lunch with Ms. Rose had been arranged without telling him.

  As irritated as he was over being ambushed at lunch, he trusted Phillip implicitly. And Ty, young though he was, had good instincts. He had to admit that the encounter with Ms. Rose had turned out to be intriguing. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone other than his immediate family, or Phillip, had stopped him from ending a conversation, or lectured him as she had when she spelled out what would be required of him.

  Turning to Phillip in the car, he said, “That sure I’ll change my mind?”

  “Certain of it,” replied Phillip, “You’d be foolish not to let Lilly design the vampire Allegrezza. You have seen her work with Tyler, haven’t you?”

  “Of course I’ve seen it.” He had seen all of Ty’s performances multiple times, although he had been focused on his acting, not the special effects makeup.

  “I haven’t changed my mind – yet. But I’ll look back over her work.” Perhaps the magic that allowed him to suspend reality and to believe that Tyler really was the Fox King in Fox Hollow was as much due to Lilly’s work as Tyler’s innate acting ability.

  Phillip called Lilly Sunday afternoon, not Monday, apologetic, to ask if they could go ahead with the lifecasting session with Jake on Monday morning. He also sketched out the financial terms of the offer. Lilly was glad he’d told her the details over the phone so he couldn’t see her jaw drop. She gave him her email address so he could send her the contract to review.

  When Phillip asked her to arrive at nine a.m. Monday morning, she managed to put the appointment off until noon, explaining that she had preparations to make and materials to obtain. “In light of your requirements, we think it’s best to do the work at Jake’s home,” Phillip said. “You’ll have plenty of room to set up and anything else you might need.” Lilly agreed and jotted down the exclusive Beverly Hills address.

  If she hadn’t been still woozy from her birthday outing the previous night, she probably would have panicked. As it was, she plopped down at her little kitchen table and tried to write a shopping list with her head resting on the cool Formica. Her mold-making and casting supplier in North Hollywood was closed Sundays. She’d have to hit the ground running when they opened at eight a.m. if she planned to be at Jake’s by noon. It took her an hour to complete the list and check it three times with her befuddled brain.

  Setting the list aside, she opened the barely cracked copy of Feast of Saints. Her hung-over brain made it difficult to concentrate but she grasped the general storyline and characters. Maya Trent would be playing Sofia Gabriell
i, a human caught in a supernatural love triangle. Jake, of course, was the villain, a vampire named Allegrezza Cavender. Alan Hume would be playing Blaylock, Jake’s archrival and some kind of hybrid angel. Blaylock is not supposed to interfere in human affairs, but he falls in love with Sofia, and so he is constantly thwarting Allegrezza’s nefarious plans for her.

  Palmer’s writing was a bit overwrought for Lilly, but with a good going over by a cerebral, twisty screenwriter like Chris Nolan, she could see how the story could generate industry excitement.

  Later that evening, Lilly decided she’d better brush up on Jake Durant. Her Internet search produced such a wide variety and volume of content that she didn’t know where to start. He was born Miles Jacob Durant, the son of two lesser-known actors. It looked like his parents had tried to steer him out of Hollywood. He graduated high school early and was shipped off to Columbia in New York at age sixteen. Lilly presumed that was where he’d met Phillip Greer. If his parents wanted to isolate him from film, they should have sent him to Boston, or some other top ten school not located in a film Mecca like New York City.

  He was involved in several productions in college, both in front of and behind the camera. All of them were film noir or gangster flicks by independents. One, in which he was credited as producer, received honorable mention at Cannes. Achieving his MBA by 21, Durant returned to Hollywood and opened his first business, a live music venue and club, Point Dume, near the promontory of the same name in Malibu. Lilly was familiar with the club. With its dramatic setting and constant remodeling every few years to stay fresh and ahead of the curve, Point Dume remained the place for guaranteed star sightings in LA.

  Upon his return to LA, Jake also accepted his first major studio film role in Hands Under Armageddon, a bizarre star-studded movie that had controversial reviews. In the movie, Durant played a philosophizing, sociopathic probation officer who preyed upon his parolees for drugs and sex. It was not her kind of movie.

  Jake’s film career never veered from the strange and often violent bent with which it had started. Although classically attractive, he was either never offered, which she doubted, or never accepted a mainstream romantic leading role. His characters were often dark, sometimes quirky and a few times outright deranged. He certainly never lacked for roles. Many of them were mobsters, although by drastically transforming his appearance and mannerisms, he never repeated a character or allowed himself to be typecast.

  She scanned his bibliography of film works again and noted to herself that none of the characters he played would have required him to wear the kind of special effects makeup the role of Allegrezza would need.

  When she flipped over to YouTube, she was soon swamped in videos featuring Durant. She’d thought of him as primarily a cult, character actor, but he obviously had a large and vociferous fan base. Most of the videos were movie clips, but there were a surprising number of fan-made videos. The movie clips reconfirmed that Jake’s movies were not her speed. Too scary and violent. Still, as she watched Jake on a Late Night with Letterman guest appearance from the previous year, she had to admit he had definite sex appeal.

  More than just a little sex appeal, she thought, clicking on a clever fan-made video set to the music of the Supersuckers’ “Born with a Tail,” in which the creator had spliced together some of the more outlandish scenes of Durant charming, bullying or scheming his way across the silver screen to comic effect.

  More than a lot of sex appeal, she thought, clicking on some of the other fan-made videos, which were edited to include only the most provocative Durant scenes. When she realized she’d watched the same video three times – a six-minute montage of close-ups and body shots of Jake in various stages of undress set to JT’s Sexyback – she smacked her cheek and made herself step away from the monitor. Phew. With the right editing, Jake Durant, even covered in blood splatter, was some serious eye candy. Gads, it was after eleven. She had a lot of work to do in the morning to get ready for the lifecasting session with Jake.

  Just before five a.m., Lilly was jolted out of sleep. Madcap, who’d finally warmed to her and had taken up sleeping on the pillow next to her, started awake and leapt to the end of the bed where she stood, back arched, tail a bristle. Strung out on too many violent YouTube videos, she’d had a horrible nightmare. She couldn’t remember how the dream started, but for the last few minutes before she awoke she’d been running through her father’s cornfield, which had been blazing with an out of control wild fire. The dream ended sharply with her running headlong into a barbed wire fence, where, snared, the flames caught up with her and engulfed her.

  Getting out of bed – no sense trying to sleep now – she flipped on the light in her little kitchen and brewed an Earl Grey tea. It had been several years since she’d had a dream that vivid and violent. She had been plagued with nightmares as a young adult and teen. She knew now that they were brought on by stress. Back then, it had been her grief over her mother’s death, her difficult relationship with her broody and domineering father and the heap of responsibilities that had fallen upon her. As a result, most of her high school memories were lost in a haze of sleep deprivation and stress-induced nightmares. She fervently hoped this morning’s episode was an aberration.

  Chapter 4

  Uncharacteristically late, Jake roared up to the manned security gates that fronted the street of his Beverly Hills residence. The security guard, recognizing his silver McLaren, activated the gate without stopping him. Jake’s home was set on the same two acre lot on Calle Vista Drive that his parents had purchased over fifty years ago, a decade before the street had become one of the most exclusive and sought after addresses in LA. The original house had since been repurposed as staff quarters, Jake having built a modern 20,000 square foot residence seated farther back on the property.

  He had spent all of Saturday afternoon and evening in his home theatre reviewing Lilly’s work and then finally relented, agreeing to give her a try. Phillip had acted quickly, before Jake could change his mind, and squeezed the lifecasting session into his busy Monday schedule.

  Pulling up the drive, irritation sparked with pleasure when he saw Lilly bending over to set a Rubbermaid tub on the front step. He was surprised by how much he’d been anticipating seeing her again, and even more surprised by why, as the rumbling of the 799 horsepower engine vibrating the center seat of the McLaren intensified the tightening of his groin at the sight of her pint-sized, bent over ass.

  Jake’s fascination with Lilly’s backside was shared by the cab driver, who’d stopped struggling to extract one of the five gallon drums out of the trunk, and instead stood leering at her. She was dressed casually. If you could call the skin-tight designer jeans above leather, sky-high, heeled hiking boots casual.

  He flipped the sports car into neutral and floored the gas pedal, causing the McLaren’s 6.1 liter V12 to roar and startle the distracted cabbie. Jake glowered at the older man as he unfolded from the low-slung sports car.

  What the hell was Phillip doing letting her cab it here? And where the fuck was his staff? He could defend a small country with his security budget, yet they’d left little Lilly to schlep her gear into his house. Jake touched the icon on his cell phone that summoned his driver, Wil, without having to call him. A GPS app automatically notified Wil of his location.

  Stepping to the open trunk, he shouldered the cabbie aside, grabbed the two, heavy, five gallon buckets and started up the steps.

  Lilly met him halfway down, “Here, let me help you with that,” she said. “Those weigh at least fifty pounds!”

  Jake smirked at the idea that he needed her – in those boots – to help him haul whatever was in the buckets. His pointed look at her overall size and getup turned into a laugh when he recognized Edward Scissorhands on her novelty shirt. He’d thought her quirky style was interesting in the booties and gold short-shorts at lunch on Friday, but this was even better. No wonder Ty, a huge Tim Burton fan, liked her so much. He could definitely see what the eleve
n year old saw in her, and beyond.

  Wil pulled the front door open in a rush just as Jake reached the top step. Jake set the buckets down and directed Wil to take them to the gym bathroom. The size of a luxury hotel spa, it had multiple vanity sinks, two showers, a large utility sink and a laundry facility. There was also a hair cutting area complete with barber’s chair in a large tiled space with a glass wall that looked out over the pool and tennis courts.

  Wil struggled to lift both drums, and then had to give up and just make two trips. Jake trotted back down to take a second plastic box from Lilly. It was empty, but large and unwieldy for her. He stacked it on top of the other box at the top of the stairs and told her to follow Wil. When she would have taken the other drum, Jake shook her off.

  “Leave it. Wil will come back for it. I’ll meet you down there after I change.”

  “I can carry something,” she said, reaching for the large box.

  Jake placed his palm on it, shaking his head.

  “There are two flights of stairs between here and where you’re going. I don’t want you trying to carry this down my stairs in those boots.”

  He watched, amused, as she made a face at him before she spun on her heel and followed Wil. He liked watching her stomp away almost as much as he’d liked her bent over.

  Stopping in the kitchen on the way to change clothes, he greeted Kwanga, his housekeeper, and asked her to prepare a lunch for two.

  “We’ve got some work to do that may take a while, so make it something simple that will keep,” he instructed her.

  In the master suite, Jake looked around his expansive closet. Lilly had told him to wear something that could get ruined. Ordered him, as he recalled. Pulling a pair of well-worn running shorts and a plain, white T-shirt out of a drawer and setting them on the padded center island, he changed quickly. He didn’t bother with shoes, wondering why she needed molds of his feet. At the thought of her bending over his feet, he felt the tightening in his groin he had experienced watching her from the car. Changing his mind about the thin, revealing nylon running shorts, he opted for a pair of faded denims instead.