Page 73 of Kissing Games
‘It’s bullshit,’ he replied angrily.
‘It’s going to be shot in black and white.’
Charlie slapped his forehead as if coming to his senses. ‘Thank god. That’ll makeallthe difference.’
‘Charlie—’
‘This is the kind of shit that critics at film festivals jerk off over. Watching it with one hand stroking their hipster beards, the other wedged down the front of their skinny jeans.’ Charlie gripped either side of his head as if trying to prevent it exploding. ‘Christ, Valentina. You told me you’ve never been topless for a role. You fuckinghatethat stupid dress they’ve put you in for this job. A week ago, you were too shy to show me your bodyin private,and now you’re going to dothis?’
‘It’s my body!’ she yelled. ‘I can do what I like with it.’
‘Of course you can, but this is shite. And what about your make-up contract? Havetheyread the script?’
‘Yes, they have. They’re a French company and the film’s director is a famous French auteur. They don’t have a problem with it.’
‘But they would have a problem with photos of you letting your hair down and having fun?’
‘That’s different. A different context. You wouldn’t understand.’
‘Clearly.’ He took a breath as if to calm himself. ‘Look, you don’t need the money. You’ve got enough for your dream now. Cancel it. Tell them to fuck off.’
‘I can’t. I’ve never broken a contract before.’
‘And you’ve never done full-frontal nudity with four fucking strangers before either!’ he exploded. ‘You’re so talented, Valentina. I’ve seen you on set. You’re luminous. You could do anything. You’re so much better than this.’
‘No, Charlie, I’m not. You don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not a good actress. I’m not. I’m just tits and ass. That’s all I’m good for.’
He shook his head, his face tight.
A wall of pain moved up inside her, obliterating everything. ‘Please leave,’ she said, her voice wobbling.
He didn’t move.
‘Get out!’ she screamed.
He flinched and left the room.
As the door shut, she crawled under the covers and sobbed.
Valentina crieduntil her throat hurt and a box of tissues had soaked up her tears. She was furious. How dare he read the script? How dare he judge what she did with her life? Why did he care so much anyway? It wasn’t like she was ever going to see him again after she left Scotland. But no matter how she berated him in her mind, coming up with new ways to castigate him, she felt sick with shame.
She hid the script in the outside pocket of her new suitcase, had a shower and put on make-up to hide her red eyes and blotchy skin. Today was meant to be the happiest day of her life. The day she’d worked towards for so long. It should be a day of celebration. She’d sent a group message to her family last night telling them the cosmetics contract was through and she’d be sorting out the papers for the house purchases in the next couple of weeks. Now she wanted to see their faces and get excited with them about the future.
Her tablet was ringing when she came out of the bathroom. It was still really early in Colombia. Isabella? It was her brother, Manny, still in his dressing gown, unshaven and dishevelled from sleep. He was frowning at the screen and attempting to flatten his unruly hair.
‘You look great, Manny,’ she said, struggling to smile.
‘Tina, I look like shit.’ He angled his face up, pulling at his chin as if he could remove the jowls. ‘How Maria puts up with being married to this is one of god’s many miracles.’
‘It’s just the angle, Manny. Don’t hold the screen so low. You’re still the fourth best looking Valverde.’
‘Hey, thanks, little sister,’ he replied sarcastically. ‘You sure know how to make an old man feel good at six in the morning.’
‘How are you doing? Are the kids awake? Did you get my message?’
‘Yeah, I got your message. The kids are still sleeping. I came downstairs so I could talk to you privately.’
Unease prickled in her stomach. ‘Is everything okay?’ Her brother looked away, rubbing his bristly chin. ‘Manny? What’s going on?’
