members of the Academy. I think my parents' friends and colleagues ran a behind-the-scenes campaign for me that stayed under Hollywood's radar. I try to keep that in mind, always. Everybody involved in the process of making movies makes an important contribution. The industry's tendency to focus so exclusively on the role of the actors and directors is a big mistake...."
He trailed off and was quiet for a while. I thought he had dozed off, but then he resumed his story, "An Oscar sort of gives a big goose to your career. A golden goose to be exact. When you bring home an Oscar, all of a sudden everybody wants to work with you. People who didn't know your name want to work with you. People who knew you and couldn't stand you want to work with you. I didn't have much of anything else to do with my life at that point, so I worked. It was the 1960's. A lot of actors spent their time getting high and carrying on. I made four to five movies a year. Don't get me wrong. I got high and carried on, too. I just managed to confine my shenanigans to the hiatuses between movies, and for my own good, I kept those hiatuses as short as possible.
"Among directors and technical people I developed a reputation of being a professional. That was something of a rarity at the time. It is also one of the main things directors and producers look for in a movie actor. You don't have to be Sir Laurence Olivier. You do have to show up on time every day, reasonably sober, and hit your marks. It's even better if you know your lines. Professionalism like that is what gets movies finished on time and within budget, which is the thing that really matters. For a movie to make money, it doesn't have to be particularly good; it has to finish under budget. For my part, I always tried to do my best to be both professional and do a good job.
"I guess you could say I parlayed that gift-Oscar into a career that is knocking on the door of true movie-stardom. I try never to let myself forget where it came from and how little I deserved it. I actually want to earn the next one." He looked at me and smiled with his lips but his eyes were deadly serious, "And make no mistake, there will be a next one, and it will be for Best Actor." That was the first glimpse I had of both the serious actor, and the ambitious person he was.
He went on to tell me about his plans for his career. He wanted to switch from playing almost exclusively bad guys to a broader range of roles. Ultimately he wanted to become a character actor so he could, as he said, "work until I am really old or, at least until I stop loving acting more than anything else in the world."
He let that sentence hang in the air for a long time. Then he sat up again and leaned over toward me and went on, "I do love acting more than anything. I have friends who are actors because it's an easy way to make a lot of money, and to get girls. I admit, that is exactly why I got into the business in the first place. Easy money and hot chicks. What surprised me after I got started was how much I love it. I love the entire process of taking a story from the genesis of an idea in somebody's head to putting it on the big screen where it can live for, ..... hell, it can live forever almost."
He smiled and said, "Sorry, I get carried away when I talk about this stuff."
"Please don't apologize! I love listening to people who are passionate about their work talk about it. Maman used to be that way about food and cooking. Kris was that way about running a restaurant. Christa is that way about music. People who have dreams and ambitions are exciting. I love to be around them."
He asked me what my dreams and ambitions were. I told him I didn't have any. For some reason that made both of us sad. The ship was sailing slowly along the beautiful coast. Luke got up and fetched a beer for himself. He brought me a glass of tea with mint. It was absolutely perfect. I raised my eyebrow in a question. He leaned over and whispered, "The cook's from Atlanta."
We laughed and stood by the railing for a long time watching the scenery, and trying to figure out how to get past our awkwardness after the surprising intimacy of what we had just shared.
Eventually, I turned around to face him, leaning my back against the railing. I looked up into his eyes, and said, "I'm probably going to regret asking about this, but now tell me the other story. The one about how, other than by virtue of your fabulous looks and animal magnetism, you became such a notorious Don Juan."
He tilted his head and gave me what was supposed to be a rakish and probably leering grin and said, "Are you sure you want to hear it?"
I said, "Probably not, but tell me anyway."
He turned me around so I had my back to him and stood behind me with his hands resting lightly on the railing on either side of me. He didn't touch me, but it was as though he had taken me in his arms. He spoke softly into my ear, "It's actually pretty simple. In the early years, the casting directors didn't think I was sexy enough; or, they thought I was sexy in a dangerous kind of way. There was always some reason why I wasn't appropriate for a romantic role. I guess I initially sort of set out to prove that I could be sexy, by dating a lot of beautiful women.
"After that I was sort of a victim of my own success. As I think I already mentioned, the studio was able to get a lot of mileage out of the publicity. Young actresses could get a lot of publicity out of being seen with me. A side benefit was that it allowed me to avoid getting too involved with anybody in particular. I was and am totally married to my career. I have never had the time, energy or, really, desire for a wife and family. Maybe I will at some point, but right now I love what I do and I don't want to be distracted. As a ladies man, I got all the sex I wanted without ever having to be really involved with any particular person for any length of time. As I already told you, no small number of those supposed affairs were nothing more than publicity stunts, anyway. I don't even know some of the women I'm supposed to have dated."
Something hung heavy and unsaid in the silence that followed that little confession.
I said, "Go ahead and say it."
"Say what?"
"I hear a large BUT ringing in the silence at the end of that sentence."
He put his arms around me for real. I leaned back against him and he rested his chin on the top of my head, "You mean the unsaid ... but it's getting old?"
"Is it?"
"Yes." He held me really tight and nuzzled my neck, speaking directly into my ear, "I don't love what I do any less and I still don't have any desire for a family, but playing the same old bad guy roles and dating younger and younger starlets is getting boring. I'm looking for new mountains to climb, certainly professionally, and, maybe even personally."
I held my breath for a few minutes hoping that my pounding heart would settle down. It gave me away. He put his hand over my heart and held me tight without moving or saying anything until it returned to normal. I was still afraid to move and almost afraid to breathe. We stood there watching a sailboat regatta in the distance.
After a few moments, we both recovered enough to change the subject, and chatter idly about the boats and the scenery. Eventually, it felt emotionally safe to return to our seats by the pool.
A little while before sunset, the kitchen staff brought out a small table and set it up on the aft deck. They set out candles and fancy dishes and a champagne bucket with a bottle of unopened champagne peeking out from under a linen towel. I was pretty sure it was Dom Perignon. Luke stood up and took me by the hand, saying, "C'mon. Let's dress for dinner. It would be a shame not to dress up for the unbelievable experience of watching the stars come out over the ocean. He led me down to the door of the bedroom where I had changed earlier, and pointed at the pile of boxes on the bed, "The lady said that evening outfit looked lovely on you. Please take it as my gift and wear it tonight." He left me there, and went to his room, promising to meet me on the deck in half an hour.
I changed into the evening pajamas and put on what I hoped would look like 'evening' makeup and not a clown face. By the time I reached the deck, he had changed as well. He was wearing black pants and a white dinner jacket. We were just so elegant! One of the crew members had a professional portrait camera. He took several pictures of us. Then the ship pulled aw
ay from the coast, and the captain turned out all the lights other than the navigational lights. While we sipped champagne and ate the best escargot I have ever tasted, the stars came out. I was unable to eat my dinner because I was too transported by the amazing experience of watching the stars come out against a totally black sky; I have never ever seen anything even close to that much beauty, other than perhaps looking into your eyes for the first time on the day you were born.
I could not take my eyes off the sky and even Luke, who had seen it all before, was transfixed by the utter splendor of the heavens. We gave up on dinner altogether after the champagne and the escargot and we spent the rest of the evening stretched out together on one chaise, star-gazing. We talked very little. We held onto each other and were each lost in our own thoughts.
About 11:00 p. m. the yacht pulled into its slip in the harbor of Marseilles. A chambermaid handed our personal belongings and purchases to Luke's chauffeur. We walked down the gang plank hand in hand and climbed into the car for the drive back to Gordes. I don't think we said anything in the entire hour and a half it took us to reach the village. I curled up on the seat with my head on Luke's shoulder. He rested his cheek against my hair. We