Over Wichita a three-course lunch with four wines was served, then everyone settled in for the long flight. Rambeau and Dumont each occupied a small suite of four facing luxurious chairs; Nathalie shared hers only with Howard Fine, who dozed off almost immediately after dessert.

Shortly, the studio head of publicity, George Hammond, approached Nathalie. “Nathalie,” he said, “Mr. Milestone would be very pleased if you would join him in his suite.” Marvin Milestone, the studio’s CEO, occupied an enclosed area that looked more like the living room in a small but luxurious apartment. As she rose from her seat, Nathalie wondered if a pass were in the offing. She was dressed in a Chanel suit and affected a cool, businesslike mien for this invitation. To her relief, Hammond, after opening the door for her, followed her inside.

Marvin Milestone, a tall, elegantly dressed and barbered man with a face made florid by an unceasing flow of alcohol, rose to meet her and shook her hand. They had met half a dozen times socially, once at his home, but never at a business meeting.

“Come in, Nathalie, and make yourself comfortable,” he said.

Nathalie chose a large chair facing his and sat down, demurely crossing her legs. “George,” Milestone said to Hammond, “why don’t you go and check on the film crew?”

Nathalie’s heart sank; it was going to be a pass.

“Nathalie,” Milestone said when Hammond had gone, “I saw the final cut of the film yesterday, and I want to tell you how delighted I am with the quality of the film and with your delightful performance.”

“Thank you, Marvin,” Nathalie replied with an appreciative smile.

“As you can tell by the load this airplane is carrying, we are taking Moscow and the Russian Federation very seriously as a future market for our films. This is the first time we have made a major effort in that country, with a gala premiere, followed by a large seated dinner and a ball, and an all-out publicity effort, akin to what we might do for a Radio City Music Hall opening.”

“I’m delighted to be a part of it,” Nathalie said.

“And I was delighted to hear that Howard Fine, through means I can only imagine, has arranged for you to be invited to dinner by President Viktor Petrov. That Howard is really something, isn’t he?”

“He certainly is.”

“Have you met Viktor Petrov before?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“I know him fairly well, and I thought it might be a good idea to prepare you a little for your dinner with him.”

“Thank you,” she said uncertainly. Prepare her?

“You’ll find him—how shall I say?—gregarious. He can be quite warm-natured, especially after a few vodkas. My advice to you is, don’t try to keep up with him in the drinks department—you’ll want to keep your wits about you.”

“I’ll remember that.”