Nacho Figueras Presents (19 page)

W
hen Kat opened her eyes the next morning and saw Sebastian's sleeping face a mere few inches from her own, she felt a rush of wild hope.

She had woken him up diligently every two hours the night before, making him sit up in bed, and repeat phrases, and touch his nose, and tell her who the current president of the United States was, until she was satisfied that nothing alarming was going on and they could safely go back to sleep. And now it was morning. He had made it through the night just fine. And Kat realized that this was the first time she had ever actually slept with Sebastian all the way through the night.

She smiled and hugged herself. Something, she thought, felt different between them. Something had changed.

She turned to look at him and drank in his face. With his long, dark lashes; his generous, pouting lips; and the angry purple bruise under one eye, he looked like an archangel who had just walked out of a bar fight. It was all she could do not to snuggle up against him and wake him up in a much pleasanter way than her constant harassment the night before.

He shifted in his sleep, moving toward her. She held her breath as his hand brushed her arm and then settled on the dip of her waist. He sighed, and a tiny smile played upon his lips.

His hand was heavy with sleep, and she could feel the heat of his skin through her pajamas. She smelled his sea and musk smell and felt herself go slick and wet. She inched herself a little closer, not allowing herself to touch him fully, but getting inches away from his bare chest. Her entire body burned for him.

She was just reaching out to stroke his shoulder when the patio door crashed open.

“My hero!” yelled Liberty as she launched herself onto the bed, right on top of Kat.

Everything happened all at once. Kat screamed, Liberty swore, and Sebastian woke up with a startled cry and looked confused and horrified to see the two women scrabbling around in the bed next to him. “
¿Que?
” he said. “What's going on?”

“What in the hell,” said Liberty, “is Kat doing in your bed?”

“What is
she
doing here?” yelped Kat.

Just then, there was a rattling at the bedroom door and Pilar, Alejandro, and Georgia carrying baby Tomás all burst in along with a hotel porter.

Georgia took one look, laughed, and then turned around and carried the baby back out.

Pilar took in the sight of Sebastian flanked by two barely dressed women in his bed and arched an imperious brow. “
Ay, niño
,” she said, “you do not look very sick to me.”

Alejandro just sighed and shook his head. “You never change,
hermano
, do you?”

T
hings were sorted out fairly quickly. Liberty, mollified to find out that Kat's presence in Sebastian's bed was a medical necessity, went back to her bungalow through the patio door. Kat gathered up her clothes, changed in the bathroom, and gave a hurried and embarrassed good-bye to everyone as she went out the front. Pilar and Georgia and the baby followed the porter back to the lobby to sort out the reservations for their rooms, and Alejandro sat down in the bungalow great room and waited placidly for Sebastian to explain how he had ended up with yet another black eye.

“Being a producer sounds more dangerous than playing polo,” said Alejandro wryly after hearing Sebastian's account of the strip club and then the sandwich truck.

“Well, at least I didn't break my arm again,” said Sebastian, flexing his now cast-free wrist.

“Ah,
sí
, I've been meaning to ask. When did
el doctor
say you'd be able to play again? Because the summer is about to start and La Victoria has been asked to open the season at Southampton Hunt and Polo before we go to London.”

Sebastian stared at his brother. “I can't possibly play. The movie has another month of filming, and after that, there is the editing and sound and all of the post-production—it will be six months at least.”

Alejandro stood up and paced the room. “Don't be ridiculous. Your wrist is healed. You should be training. It's time to stop messing around and come back. The team needs you.”

Sebastian shook his head. “I have a job, Jandro.”

“As far as I can see, that job merely consists of you keeping some pretty actress entertained while you waste your time in Hollywood. We've been patient, Sebastian, but you have a family and a team who have both been waiting for you.”

Sebastian stood up and stepped in Alejandro's way. “You know absolutely nothing about what I'm doing here,” he said vehemently. “This is harder work than I have ever done, and I happen to be damned good at it, too.”

Alejandro ran his hands through his hair in frustration. “Sebastian, you have the kind of gift that comes along maybe once in a generation. People would kill to have your natural ability.”

“That doesn't mean I don't have a choice.”

“It's your legacy.”

“It's my family history, not my inescapable fate.”

“You were born to play, Sebastian.”

“Last I checked, I was born free.”

“You are a Del Campo!” roared Alejandro, giving Sebastian's shoulder a push.

Sebastian got right up into his brother's face. “You sound just like
Papá
,” he snarled. “You act like the movies are somehow beneath us, but what is polo but just a stupid game, Jandro? Nothing more.”

Alejandro stared at him, stricken. Then turned away. “Polo,” he said heavily, “is your family. It is your blood. And it will save you in the end, Sebastian, if only you'd let it.”

Sebastian didn't answer, and after a moment, Alejandro left the bungalow.

K
at sighed happily as the waiter placed a hot, foamy bowl of latté down in front of her. She inhaled the warm, sweet aroma and closed her eyes. There were some things that L.A. did very well indeed. Maybe it wasn't peach cobbler, but it would do just fine.

She tasted the coffee. “Ah,” she moaned to herself, “mother's milk.”

“You never change, do you, kid?” said an amused voice.

Kat looked up into the smiling face of Jack Hayes and choked. “Jack,” she gasped.

“In the flesh,” he said, and then poked ruefully at his belly. “Not much of it, though. They've got me on a starvation diet for this next role I'm doing. I play—get this—a starving guy.”

Kat laughed.

“Are you meeting someone, Katy?”

“Um, no, actually,” she said.

“Can I join you?”

She nodded, suddenly feeling a little shy as he sat down.

Her ex was as good looking as ever, she thought as she watched him study the menu. Blond hair, blue eyes, boyish, and sweet, but with the most devilishly wicked smile. He had a subtle scar off the corner of his upper lip that made his mouth seem just the smallest bit lopsided. That scar was regularly heralded in the press as the “most kiss-able” thing about him.

“Lemon water,” he told the hovering waiter. “Lemon water and the kale salad. Hold the nuts. Hold the cheese. Dressing on the side.”

Kat lifted an eyebrow. “Wow. You really are suffering for your art.”

He groaned as the waiter hurried away. “No one should live like this, Katy. At this point, I'm more cow than man. I just chew my cud all the goddamned day.”

She laughed. “Lucky for me, I'm behind the camera.”

“Speaking of which, I heard that you're directing the new Liberty Smith?”

“Yup. We're about three-quarters through.”

“Nice. Is she as good as the rumors say?”

“What have you heard?”

“I've heard that you're getting the kind of performance out of her that will add another ten years to her career, at least.”

Kat blushed and smiled into her coffee cup. “Well, that's pretty strong praise, but I won't take all the credit. She's a very talented actress.”

“Oh, come on. I, for one, have personal experience with the way your directing can change an actor's life.”

She laughed. “Yeah, as if
Red Hawk
did anyone any favors.”

He looked at her seriously. “It was my breakout role, Katy. And that was all you.”

She smiled, but waved him off. “Anyway.”

“Anyway. So Liberty's still looking good? Her tits holding their own against time and gravity?”

Kat frowned. “For Christ's sake, you're older than her, Jack. How are
your
tits doing?”

He grinned ruefully. “Fair enough.” He sipped his water. “So what's after this? Got it all lined up?”

She shrugged. “We're considering a few different things.”

“We? Oh, you mean you and Honey. Man, you're still with her?”

Kat stiffened. “Of course I am. She was just about the only person returning my calls these last couple years.”

He had the grace to look abashed. “Yeah,” he murmured. “Sorry about that.”

She sipped her coffee. It had gone lukewarm. “I didn't mean you in particular.”

“I know. I just…” He looked down. “Well, I should've picked up the phone. I know I owe you.”

She shook her head. “We broke up almost ten years ago, Jack. You don't owe me anything.”

“Well,” he said, “about that…”

“We really do not need to rehash,” said Kat quickly.

“I know, but I guess I just want to apologize. It's been bothering me for years. And maybe to explain myself. You threw me out so fast, I never had a chance to tell you my side of things.”

She snorted. “There was another side of things besides me finding you in bed with Magda, my Pilates instructor?”

He looked at her for a moment, then shook his head. “It was that or give you a ring.”

“What?”

He laughed. “I was crazy about you, Katy. I mean, really gone. I'd never felt that way about anyone before. But I knew it wasn't mutual.”

Jack, I—”

He held up his hand. “No, it's okay. You don't have to lie. It's been ten years, right?”

She nodded. “Right.”

“Anyway, I knew you weren't on the same page as me. I was thinking wedding and babies and a ranch in Ojai, and you were thinking about your next script. I knew that your main focus was your work, and I didn't see that changing anytime soon.”

“But—”

“Hey, I'm not blaming you for it. Seriously. I know as well as anyone that to get anywhere in this town you have to work your ass off. And you worked harder than anyone I ever met.”

“I wanted it.”

He nodded. “You did. And I wanted you. I mean, at least I wanted a version of you. One that maybe didn't actually exist. So you see, when I found myself standing in front of Harry Winston's trying to figure out whether you'd like a pear-shaped diamond or a marquise cut—”

“Ugh. Neither.”

He laughed. “I suddenly had this realization that I was never going to get what I wanted from you. And that I needed to break it off.”

“So you slept with my Pilates instructor.”

“I was a coward back then. It seemed like the easiest way.”

“You could have just said something. That would've probably worked as well.”

He nodded and sipped his drink. “I know. Anyway, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I was such an asshole.”

She snorted and smiled. “You really were.”

He chuckled and toasted her with his cup of water.

“You know,” said Kat, “I appreciate you telling me all that, but somehow it doesn't make me feel much better.”

He lifted his eyebrows. “Really?”

“Frankly, I think I'm still working through some of the same old stuff.”

“Yeah? You got another man you're driving away with your late nights and insane work ethic?”

She shook her head. “Something like that.”

S
ebastian brought his family onto the set the next day. He and Alejandro were still keeping their distance, but his mother and Georgia insisted that they wanted to see some movie stars. They were filming at the Santa Barbara Polo Club again, so he figured it was as good a time as any to show them around.

Liberty found them right away. She was in costume as Victoria. Her hair was set in pin curls, and she was wearing old-fashioned riding gear. As were all the extras.

Pilar looked around, smiling. “
Ay
, the old riding clothes were
mucho más eleganté
.” She turned to her sons. “You boys should really wear jodhpurs. So attractive. Those jeans you all wear now are just not the same.”

Alejandro shot a look at Sebastian and they cracked up. “
Mamá
and her jodhpurs,” snorted Alejandro.

“She'll never let them go,” Sebastian said, laughing, glad for the brief thaw between them.

“So,” said Liberty a little impatiently, “are you going to introduce me to your family, Sebastian?”

“Well, since they already met you in my bed—”

“Oh hush,” said Liberty, smacking him on the arm. “I'm Liberty, you guys.”

“And this is
mi mamá
, Pilar Del Campo; my brother, Alejandro; his wife, Georgia; and this little guy is Tomás.”

“
Encantado, señora
,” said Alejandro as he took Liberty's outstretched hand.

Liberty's violet eyes bugged a little as she looked up at Alejandro. “Good lord, Sebastian, I thought you were the most handsome man in the world, but your brother—”

“Uh-oh,” said Georgia good-naturedly. “Have a heart, lady. I cannot compete with you on any level.”

Liberty laughed and released Alejandro's hand. “Oh, don't worry.” She winked at Georgia. “I know a man in love when I see one. I never bother with a guy whose heart is elsewhere.”

Alejandro smiled at his wife and kissed the top of her head.

“Anyway,” said Liberty, “I hope you all are proud of Sebastian here. It turns out he's not only an amazing producer, but he's a hero, too. I don't know if he told you how he saved my life the other night.”

Sebastian laughed. “I do believe the sandwich guy did all the saving, Libby. I just got punched in the face.”

“Well, you would have saved me!”

“If I had not been knocked out?
Sí
, maybe.”

She reached over and kissed him on the cheek. “I think you were very brave.”

Sebastian smiled at her, amused. “
Gracias
, darling.” He looked around. “Where's Kat?”

Liberty shrugged. “Talking with Charlie, last I saw her.”

The costume designer flagged down Liberty from across the room.

“Oh, gotta go get fitted. So nice meeting you all. How long are you here for? I'd love to take you all out for dinner.”

Pilar smiled. “That would be lovely, dear.”

As soon as Liberty was out of ear shot, Pilar turned to Sebastian. “You know she's married, don't you?” she said.

Sebastian laughed. “Oh, believe me, I am well aware,
Mamá
.”

She shrugged delicately. “As long as you know,
hijo
, because”—she looked at Liberty getting her costume measured—“
la doña
over there seems to have forgotten.”

Sebastian got them settled with headsets so they could listen in on the next scene. There would be a short one with just Liberty and Charlie, her costar, and then, Sebastian saw, looking at the shot list, Kat would be shooting the polo match yet again.

He found her in her trailer. The door was open, and he could see her hunched over the script, making notes. He smiled at the way her wild black curls were haphazardly held together on top of her head with a pencil. She was wearing a T-shirt and jeans, and her tennis shoe–encased foot tapped out a nervous dance.

“Again with the polo game?” he asked her as he came in through the door. “Didn't offer them enough of an incentive last time?”

She shot him a quick smile before looking back down at the page and sighing. “I just want…” she said. “Do you remember the first time you saw a polo game, Sebastian?”

He chuckled. “I was probably still an infant.”

Her foot tapped faster. “No, that's not what I mean, then. I mean, do you remember the first time you really fell in love with polo?”

He thought for a moment, and then smiled. “
Sí
,” he said. “I do. In Argentina. I was nine. Old enough to have been riding for some time, but still too young to have started really training for the game yet,
sabes
?”

She looked up and met his eyes.

“And I remember this because Alejandro had just started playing on the family team, and my father, Carlos, he was still playing, and actually”—his grin got wider—“
mi abuelita
was playing as well.”

Her foot stilled.

“It wasn't high goal polo. It must have been an exhibition game if
Abuelita
was playing, too, but I remember realizing that three generations of my family were on the field—and
mi mamá
telling me to watch carefully because we might not see it again.” He smiled at the memory. “
Mamá
was so young and beautiful back then.”

“She's beautiful now,” said Kat softly.

“
Sí
, of course, but you know, sometimes when you think of your parents and realize that they were practically younger then than you are now?”

She nodded.

“So it was with
mis padres
. And Alejandro was just a boy really, maybe seventeen, and
Abuelita
was a fierce, strong
dama
who could still keep up with the best of them.”

He looked off in the distance—he could see it all happening.

“The crowds are different in Argentina, you know? Here people sort of politely appreciate polo, but there, they
live
it. They go
loco
over it. And it's not just the rich who watch,
sabes
? It's everyone.” He smiled. “Jandro always says that, if he could have one thing, he would make Americans see polo like the Argentines do.”

She smiled.

“So I don't really remember too much about the game. La Victoria won, I know that. And
Abuelita
scored three goals, and
Papá
probably scored at least half a dozen, because he always did, and Jandro scored one. I remember that. It was his first game goal actually.

“But what I really remember was watching the ponies fly by, and the look of joy on my family's faces as they rode, and just being filled with this…
anhelo
, you know?” He paused for a moment, translating in his head. “Longing—yearning—is what that word means.
Anhelo
so deep that I could hardly breathe.

“And this part is silly.” He looked away, a little embarrassed. “Remember, I was still just a small boy, but I started to cry. And I buried my face in my mother's shoulder, and she asked what was wrong, and I said, ‘I just want to fly like that,
Mamá.
'

“And
mi mamá
, she laughed and said, ‘Oh, don't you worry,
hijo
, you will.'”

Kat wiped at her eyes and she cleared her throat. “That,” she whispered. “I want people to feel
that
when they watch the scene, Sebastian.”

Sebastian thought for a moment and then slowly smiled. “I have an idea,” he said.