“Yeah, I heard you. Well, that’s great, Jax, congratulations.”

“You don’t sound very happy for me.”

“Hey, I’m happy if you’re happy.”

“Well, I’m fucking happy,” I said defensively.

“Then I’m fucking happy too,” Nicole snapped back.

This was not how I had envisioned the conversation. Why weren’t the people closest to me ever thrilled for my success? Maybe I expected too much. I put down the toilet lid and sat.

“Nic, what’s going on? You’ve been in bed since the stupid Oscars.”

“We were robbed.”

“Jesus, Nicole,” I said. “I lost to Maggie Finch.”

“I didn’t do enough for you, Jackie.”

“Honey, if you’d had Dame Maggie murdered…”

“Believe me, I thought about it.”

I laughed, “Well she still would have won.” I waited for her comeback but only heard the sound of her dragging on her cigarette. “Anyway, you have to reschedule the Esquire shoot.”

“What? No, Jackie, I can’t do that. We’re already at the edge of their lead time!”

“Okay, then cancel.”

“You are fucking up your life.”

“I called to tell you I’m getting engaged.” I was steamed but had to keep my voice down or Brett would hear me.

“Did you tell Brett about Reiner?”

“Shhh! What? How did you know about—”

“There are no secrets in this town, Jax. You need this picture.”

Ugh, Penny. I was going to kill her.

“I’m planning to soon, I just—”

“You want to sacrifice your career for this guy?”

“This guy is going to be my husband,” I hissed.

“You’re losing your heat, Jax.”

“My heat?”

“It’s been a year since First Degree, and you have nothing in the can.”

“The can?” I mocked her. “Wow, all of a sudden you’re Miss Show Business.”

“You know what, Jackie? Fuck you. I could represent a hundred other actresses.”

“So, go,” I said, “represent. It’ll give you something to do while you’re sleeping away my paycheck.”

There was a click, then silence on the other end of the line.

I traded my towel for a robe and stomped back to the bedroom. The Lakers were playing their final game against the Knicks. Brett watched, propped up on pillows, his script lazy in his hand. I got in next to him and waited for a break in the action.

“So, where are we going Friday?”

“What about the Esquire shoot?”

“They’ll postpone. Where are we going?”

“Can’t tell you. It’s part of the surprise.”

A small voice inside me said this was the moment to tell Brett about the Reiner picture. I needed to be honest with my boyfriend, my future husband, regardless of the results. I took a deep breath and gathered all my reserves, then I told the voice to shut up. I’d handle this in my own fucked up way.

DISSOLVE TO:

INT. HOSPITAL ROOM

MORNING