“He has a meeting in fifteen,” the receptionist replied, giving Julia a quick side-eye, “but he’s always in for you.”
Lillian thanked her and swept toward the office door, rappingtwice but not waiting for a response before opening it. “Hello, dear,” she sang, striding into her son’s office and beckoning Julia to follow.
“Mom,” Deneford said with a start, nearly dropping the phone pressed to his ear. “I’ll have to call you back,” he murmured into the receiver and hung up. “Lovely to see you.” He rose and came around his desk to kiss her on the cheek. “And you brought a friend,” he said, escorting his mother to a comfortable chair and taking the one beside her. Julia, left to fend for herself, settled gracefully onto the sofa opposite them.
“I did indeed,” Lillian replied, smiling. “Something must be wrong with your phone or your computer, Stevie, because my dear friend Julia has left you several messages to which you haven’t replied. I know you aren’t simply ignoring her, because I brought you up better than that.”
Deneford spread his hands and shrugged, chagrined. “I’ve been swamped,” he said. “No offense intended.”
“None taken,” Julia assured him.
“Stevie, I understand you’re considering Paige Lyons for a role in one of your upcoming films,” said Lillian. “I’m so thrilled to hear that. I’ve seen some of her work, and she’s definitely someone to watch.”
“You’ve seen her work? I mean, there isn’t much of it.”
“And yet I have, enough to know that she shows great talent and presence. That’s why I’m puzzled. I also heard that you rescinded your offer. I hope I misunderstood.”
“No, actually, that’s true.” Deneford gestured to Julia, his voice amiable, but his look unmistakably annoyed. “It was Julia herself who told me Paige wasn’t available.”
“I spoke out of turn,” Julia said evenly. “I tried to tell you that.”
“I don’t think so,” said Deneford, shaking his head. “This frantic backpedaling is actually kind of suspicious.”
“Oh, Stevie, just stop,” said Lillian, exasperated. “Haven’t you ever misspoken? You don’t need to answer that because I know you have. There’s that story you love to tell about how you bought yourfirst eight-millimeter camera with money you saved from your paper route—”
“Mom,” he interjected sharply.
“That story isn’t true?” Julia asked, looking from Lillian to Deneford and back. “I read that in an interview you did withTimemagazine.”
Lillian waved a hand dismissively. “Time,60 Minutes,GQ—he’s shared that story far and wide. That doesn’t make it true.”
“Mom, please.”
“I gave him that camera for his birthday,” Lillian told Julia, shaking her head and regarding her son with fond amusement. “As for the thirty thousand dollars he allegedly saved up from his job at RadioShack to fund his first feature film—”
“Mom—”
“Five thousand of that was his savings,” Lillian continued. “The rest I gave him. I sold my car and started taking the bus to work.”
“You’re kidding,” said Julia, astounded. “His entire origin story is a lie?”
“Everyone embellishes,” Deneford countered, face reddening. Turning to his mother, he added, contritely, “I bought you another car as soon as I could afford it.”
“Yes, you did, dear.” Lillian patted his hand, beaming. “Several, in fact. Your most recent gift is my favorite. As I’ve always told you, I was happy to invest in your future. I wanted you to fulfill your dreams.” She gestured expansively, as if to take in his office, the studio, perhaps the entire film industry. “And hasn’t it paid off splendidly?” Her smile faded. “But youhavemisspoken, deliberately and repeatedly. You of all people should be generous and understanding when someone else does the same.”
Deneford heaved a sigh. “Okay, Mom. Maybe you’re right.”
“Oh, I’m definitely right,” said Lillian. “You know what would make me very happy, dear?”
He hesitated. “What?” he asked grudgingly.
“If you would listen carefully as my good friend Julia corrects whatever misunderstanding there may be regarding Paige Lyons—who, in my opinion, is a promising young actress with a brilliant career ahead of her.” Rising, Lillian slipped on her sunglasses and looped the handles of her tote over the crook of her elbow. “I’ll see myself out. Julia, after you two chat, I’ll meet you outside by the car.”
With a final pointed look for her son and an encouraging smile for Julia, she swept from the office and left them to it.
18
Deneford heaved a sigh, resigned. “I’ll give you five minutes.”
