Christopher Beha - Arts & Entertainments - A Novel

IN THE DAYS AFTER the premiere, more stories emerged about Susan’s need for help, her struggle to make it through alone. With each one Eddie felt closer to being back in the fold. Her situation had to change in some way to keep viewers interested. The question was how long the producers would play things out. He held off calling Alex, because he thought he would be in a stronger position when they came for him if he didn’t seem desperate to get back.

The next week’s show began at the gallery, where Susan prepared for Richard Oh’s opening. His work had been safely shipped to the gallery, and the assistants helped Susan install it. Most of it had the appearance of melted wax in various vomitous shades.

“Susan has really been Richard’s champion,” Carl told the camera. “She’s the one who turned me on to him, and she’s the one who brought him in to the gallery.”

It was an atypical bit of selflessness on Carl’s part, but it also seemed to suggest that the blame would be on Susan if the show didn’t succeed. After a few more shots of Richard’s work, they cut to her.

“The medium is melted-down G.I. Joe figurines,” Susan explained. “It’s such a haunting evocation of the horrors of war. This one is called Fallujah.” She pointed to a hardened brown blob fixed to the wall. “It’s amazing how something so seemingly abstract can have such an emotional impact.”

Now they cut to Richard, who had let the pigtail down from the unshaved side of his head.

“It’s incredibly exciting to have someone like Susan Hartley embrace your art,” he said. “Everyone thinks so highly of her taste.”

In Eddie’s memory, these openings had always been casual affairs, with garbage cans full of PBR and a few bottles of white wine on a table near the door. People came in for a free drink and took a lap around the show before moving on to the next gallery. But now they were setting up something rather more elaborate. There was a brief bit of phony drama when the caterers called to say they were stuck in traffic.

“I’m launching a career here,” Susan said dramatically. “Everything has to be on time.”

Later they showed her back at the apartment, picking out a dress that would elegantly handle her growing bump.

“It’s times like these when I really wish I had someone going through all this with me,” she said. “I’ve got a lot riding on this. Not just for my own career. I really believe in Richard, and I want this night to be perfect for him.”

So much of their life in the past two years had been wrapped up in their failure to conceive that a failure at work hardly seemed to register. But now he could see how badly Susan wanted this show to succeed. She had a whole emotional life attached to her work that Eddie had never known. Eddie felt himself rooting for Susan, as he imagined most viewers would, and he was relieved to see people waiting around the block to get inside the gallery. A velvet rope kept them in a line more in keeping with a movie premiere than the first exhibition of an unknown artist. Inside, Susan eloquently explained the importance of Richard’s work to various well-dressed people who were labeled by way of subtitles as prominent collectors or socialites or art critics. The only name familiar to Eddie was that of the lead art critic at the Herald. Susan had mentioned her in the past mostly to complain that she never came to their shows. As the evening wound on, all of the works were sold, checks for thirty or forty thousand dollars were written on the spot.

The cameras cut back outside, where a black car pulled up to the curb. A driver emerged to open the passenger door. Eddie could tell from the response of the people still waiting in line that whoever came out of the car was famous, but it took a moment for him to recognize Rex Gilbert. As Rex walked up to the gallery door, the screen cut to Tomaka.

“I’m like, oh my God, Rex is in our gallery,” she said. “We’re all trying to keep ourselves together.”

She was replaced by Susan, who looked at the camera more calmly.

“Rex is famous in the art world as more than just a dilettante with some money to throw around,” she said. “He’s a great collector. So it’s a real honor for him to come to this show. Mostly, I’m just happy for Richard.”

Susan was waiting at the door when Rex came inside. She introduced herself and showed him around.

“Unfortunately, our major pieces have already sold,” she told him. “But Richard is working on a very exciting new series. I could arrange a private showing if you’re interested.”

“I would love a private showing,” Rex said.

Susan handed him a business card, and the camera turned to capture Tomaka and another assistant looking on.

“Rex Gilbert is flirting with Susan,” Tomaka said. “I’m totally going to die.”

Susan walked Rex back to the door.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t get here while there was still more work available, but I certainly like what I saw.”

He passed his eyes over Susan and smiled.

“Some of it is still available,” Susan said. She kissed him on both cheeks and stood watching in the doorway while he walked back to his waiting car.

Eddie turned off the TV as the credits ran. They might have picked Rex, of all people, just to torture him. But really there was nothing to worry about, he assured himself. It was a cameo, like Martha’s appearance the week before. A star of Rex’s caliber wouldn’t get himself stuck in this story. He just wanted to look like he was serious about art. His last three movies had been disappointments, and his popularity had been declining since he’d split with Martha. Establishing some high culture credibility would be good for him. It was easier than getting involved in politics or directing an indie script.

Every site Eddie checked had Rex and Susan on its home page. CelebretainmentSpot ran a story that had obviously been waiting to post the moment the episode ended. “Hollywood’s worst-kept secret is out. Rumors have been swirling for weeks about Rex and Susan spending time together. Our spies say the two have been privately inseparable since the visit to her popular Chelsea gallery depicted on tonight’s show. Rex’s friends are hoping that the prospect of a family might be enough to finally tie down Hollywood’s most notorious bachelor.”

Eddie closed the computer and called Talent Management.

“What the fuck is this?” he asked Alex. “Rex Gilbert wants to start a family with my pregnant wife?”

“It’s quite a story, isn’t it?”

“I thought you were supposed to be getting me on the show?”

“Let’s be honest, Eddie. Between you and Rex there’s a bit of a difference in interest level.”

“Isn’t that supposed to be my agent’s job?”

“You’re not exactly doing me any favors.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You don’t do anything. Granted, you spread out naked in the hallway once, which wasn’t bad. But since then you don’t even leave the fucking hotel room.”

“I was trying to stay out of trouble.”

“Who told you to do that? If you want to get on this show, you need to get yourself into trouble. No one gives a shit about you right now.”

After he hung up with Alex, Eddie searched through the messages on his phone and found the number of the reporter from Star Style.

“This is Geena Tuff,” she said.

“Hi, Geena, this is Eddie Hartley.”

“Right, Eddie. How are you doing?”

“Listen, I’ve been thinking about it, and I’m ready to give you that exclusive interview.”

“I’m afraid the window has sort of closed on that.”

“You don’t have to pay ten thousand dollars. I’ll give it to you for free. I’ve got some juicy material.”