“The film’s imploding on us,” Jake said tonelessly.

Belinda felt a chill.

“Let’s not jump the gun,” Dick Spano said. “Fleur had a bad day, that’s all.”

Johnny Guy popped an antacid. “You weren’t there, Dicky. She doesn’t have it in her to pull off that scene.”

Jake raked his fingers through his hair. “I’ll drive up to my place, turn off the phones for the weekend, and do some rewrites. We’ll have to cut some of her footage.”

Belinda dug her fingernails into her palms. Cut Fleur’s footage? She wouldn’t allow it.

“Do what you have to,” Johnny Guy said. “I’ll make some notes for you. I’m sorry about this, Jako. Really.”

Spano jabbed the air with his cigar. “I don’t get why she froze up like that. We all know some of the guys she’s dated. Big-time players. It’s not like she’s never taken her clothes off for a man.”

“But she hasn’t taken them off for Jake,” Johnny Guy said.

Spano cigar’s tip glowed. “What does that mean?”

Jake sighed. “Leave it alone, Johnny Guy.”

The director glanced over at Spano. “Fleur’s fallen hard for our boy.”

Belinda went absolutely still.

Johnny Guy popped another antacid. “I guess he can’t help being irresistible.”

“Go to hell,” Jake said without any rancor.

Johnny Guy rubbed the back of his head. “Do what you can over the weekend with the rewrites. It’s not the end of the world, but this is going to hurt.”

Belinda’s mind raced as she slipped out of the room. Fleur had fallen in love with Jake? Why hadn’t she noticed?

Because she’d been too caught up in her own fascination with him. She thought she knew her daughter so well, but she hadn’t seen what should have been perfectly obvious. Of course Fleur had fallen for him. What woman wouldn’t? If she looked back, she could see the signs. But watching her dreams come true had made her oblivious. A thrill shot through her. She located Jake’s pickup in the parking lot and waited for him. She wouldn’t let them cut Fleur’s scenes.

He approached a little before midnight. She stepped out into the pool of light behind his truck. Ever since Iowa, he’d been avoiding her, and he didn’t look happy to see her now. She accepted his rejection with the same fatalistic resignation she’d accepted Flynn’s abandonment. She wasn’t important enough to hold him. But when he’d kissed her that day, she’d felt as though she’d gotten a little piece of Jimmie back, and she could be satisfied with that.

“Don’t do the rewrites,” she said as he reached her. “It’s a waste of your time. Fleur can do those scenes.”

“Somebody’s been eavesdropping.”

She shrugged. “I saw the rushes, and I heard all of you talking. But there’s no need to change anything.”

He pulled a set of keys from his jeans pocket. “If you saw the rushes, you know we can’t use anything we shot today. Believe me, I don’t want to do this, but unless a miracle happens, we don’t have any choice.”

“Make the miracle, Jake,” she said softly. “You can do it.”

He locked eyes with her. “What are you talking about?”

She stepped closer to him, her mouth dry. “We both know why Fleur can’t let herself go in that scene. She’s afraid you’ll see the way she feels about you. But you can fix that.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

How could a man who wrote so brilliantly about human complexity be so obtuse? She smiled at him. “Break down that wall. Take her away with you this weekend and break down the wall she’s put up.”

He seemed to freeze, and then his voice grew cold. “Maybe you’d better explain exactly what you mean by that.”

She gave a small, nervous laugh. “Fleur will be twenty next month. She’s well past the age of consent.”

His lips barely moved. “I still don’t understand what you’re getting at. Spell it out, Belinda. Spell it out so I’m sure I’ve got it right.”

She wouldn’t retreat, and she lifted her chin. “I think you should make love to her.”

“Jesus.”

“Don’t look so shocked. It’s the obvious solution.”

“Only in your twisted mind.” His voice whipped her, and his eyes raked her with contempt. “Making love is what people do for pleasure. It’s not a business deal. You’re pimping your own daughter.”

“Jake…”

“What you’re talking about is fucking. Fuck my daughter, Koranda, so she won’t blow her movie career. Fuck her so she won’t blow my career.”

“It’s not like that!” she cried. “You make it sound so ugly.”

“Then make it pretty for me.”

“You have to be attracted to her. She’s one of the most beautiful women in the world. And she’s in love with you.” Of course, she was, Belinda thought. Fleur had always been a creature of grand passions. She had to love Jake.

His contempt turned to disgust. “Have you forgotten that morning in Iowa?”

“Nothing happened. It doesn’t count.”

“It counts in my mind.”

“Fleur wants you, Jake. And her feelings for you are all that stand in the way of finishing this film exactly the way you want it to be. Only you can break through her reserve.” Belinda had waited her whole life for this, and she wouldn’t let his squeamishness dissuade her. “What’s the harm?” She ignored her uneasiness and looked him straight in the eye. “It’s not like she’s never been with a man.”

Jake flinched.

Belinda hurried on. “She hasn’t been promiscuous, don’t think that. I sheltered her as much as I could. But a mother can only do so much. And this way her feelings for you will be able to run their natural course. She’ll be better for it. The movie will be better. Everybody wins.”

“You don’t win, Belinda.” He gazed down at her with eyes so cold they chilled her to the bone. “You’re the biggest loser I’ve ever met.”

He climbed in his truck, and the engine growled to life. The tires screamed as he whipped out of his parking place. She watched until the taillights disappeared.

When she got home, she slipped inside Fleur’s dark bedroom. Her daughter was asleep. Tenderly she brushed away a long lock of blond hair that curled over her cheek.

Fleur stirred. “Belinda?”

“It’s all right, darling. Go back to sleep.”

“Smelled your perfume,” Fleur murmured, and then she was quiet.

Belinda sat awake for the rest of the night. She’d never been more right about anything than she was about this. Fleur and Jake could become one of Hollywood’s great couples, like Gable and Lombard, or Liz Taylor and Mike Todd. Jake needed a woman who was larger than life, just like him.

The more she thought about it, the more she understood how right this was. Of course Fleur had frozen up during the filming today. She’d been mortified to have everyone watching what should have been their first private moment-the first time she shared herself with him. Once Fleur had worked through that, she’d do the scene brilliantly. But Fleur needed to be intimate with Jake before she could set herself free.

As Belinda smoked one cigarette after another, she wrote a script in her head. The scenario was so simple it was almost transparent. Still, that’s what made it appealing. Wasn’t this Hollywood, where disbelief was suspended every day?

She practiced on a pad of unlined stationery, using handwritten notes Jake had made on Fleur’s script as her guide. The end product wouldn’t bear close scrutiny, but it was good enough. She’d put the rest in place tomorrow.

Fleur spent most of Saturday on horseback, but it didn’t make her forget what had happened. People were depending on her, and she’d failed them. Monday would be even worse. What would she do after the undressing part was over and she had to make love to Jake?

When she got home, she found Belinda sunbathing by the pool. Her mother had to know by now what had happened on Friday, and she braced herself for a cross-examination, but Belinda merely smiled. “I have the most fabulous idea. Cool off with a swim, then let’s both get dressed up and go out to dinner. Just the two of us. Someplace fabulously expensive.”

Fleur had no appetite, but she didn’t want to spend Saturday night wallowing, either. Besides, she and Belinda needed to do something together that didn’t involve work. “I’d like that.”

She changed into her suit, swam for a while, and took a shower. When she came out, Belinda was sitting on the side of her bed waiting for her. Her mother’s blond hair gleamed against her coral knit suit. “I went shopping today,” she said. “Look what I found for you.”

A very short crocheted dress made of oatmeal-colored string lay on the bed along with a flesh-colored slip and a pair of lace panties. No chance of going unnoticed in that. She’d be all legs, and the flesh slip under that wide-open knit would make her look naked. But she couldn’t refuse Belinda’s peace offering. “Thanks. It’s great.”

“And look at these.” Belinda opened a shoebox and pulled out a pair of candy-striped wedged sandals with ribbon ties at the ankles. “This is going to be such fun.”

Fleur got dressed, and, just as she suspected, she was all flesh and legs. Belinda piled her hair on top of her head, fastened big gold hoops in her ears, and added a dab of perfume. Her eyes filled with tears as she gazed at Fleur’s reflection in the mirror. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.”

They went downstairs. Belinda retrieved her purse from the table in the hallway. “Oh…I forgot.” She picked up an envelope. “This is so odd. I found it in the mailbox. It’s addressed to you, but there’s no stamp on it. Someone must have personally delivered it.”

Fleur took the envelope. Only her name was printed on front. She tore it open and pulled out two sheets of white stationery. Untidy handwriting covered the top sheet.

Dear Flower,

It’s after midnight and I can’t see any lights, so I’ll leave this in your mailbox and hope you find it first thing Saturday morning. I have to see you now. Please, Flower, if you care about me, drive up to my place in Morro Bay as soon as you get this. It’ll take you about three hours. Here’s a map. Don’t disappoint me, kiddo. I need you.