Chapter 12

“Ms. DeLoie?”

“Yes?” The call had come in on her private cell phone, a number that very few people had access to. Her agent did, but she hadn’t spoken to her agent in months. Anyone else would have never given out the number, so the leak had to have come from there.

“This is Jeanette Larson with the Golden Globes planning committee. Would you be available to present the award for Best Actress at our upcoming awards ceremony?”

“I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“We would like you to be a presenter at the Golden Globes in two months.”

CLUNK “Crap!”

“Sorry, what was that, Ms. DeLoie?”

“Sorry, I dropped the phone. Did you really say that you want me to be a presenter at the Golden Globes?”

“Yes, we did. We think you’d be perfect for presenting the ‘Best Performance by an Actress in a Motion Picture – Drama’ category. This is mainly because of your three previous wins in the category, as well as your two Academy Award wins.”

Corinne couldn’t believe her ears. “Gimme a minute to process this...”

“Sure. Take your time.”

It was a few minutes later when she spoke up again. “I have so many questions about this. Where to begin?” She pondered.

“I am clearly a pariah in Hollywood. Do you think this is a good idea? I don’t want to do anything to damage the reputation of the Golden Globes, and my presence there could certainly have that effect.”

“The panel debated this in depth. I won’t kid you – you were the most discussed candidate for any presenter this year, or any other year I have been a part of this. But the questions were not about whether or not you would not be right for the role. The questions were more about why certain... ‘elements’ in the industry were so intent on punishing you for a performance that, while explicit, was quite amazing in every other aspect. Without that scene, we decided that you would have been nominated for your fourth Globe, and would have probably won it going away. Likewise, who knew that your husband was such a majorly skilled actor in his own right?”

“Whoa! Seriously? That’s ... that’s amazing! Thank you, Ms. Larson!”

“It is no less than you both deserve, Ms. DeLoie.”

“Please, just call me Corinne,” she interrupted calmly.

“Okay, sure. And please, call me Jeanie. As I was saying, you are the voice and face of your generation of actors and actresses. You are, not to be too blunt, the example most referred to in acting classes at UCLA and other various colleges in California and New York, and elsewhere, on how to do it right. No one else in recent memory has risen as fast and as far as you have. Whether or not those ... is this being recorded?”

“Heck no. Say whatever you want. No one else besides me will ever hear this,” Corinne laughed.

“Whether or not those fuckwits in the major studios want to admit it, you are the most bankable superstar west of the Rocky Mountains right now. Personally, I want to, if you’ll forgive the reference, rehabilitate your image with the public, if any is needed. I don’t think it is, but this should push that further along. Frankly, what you did with that scene was beautiful and elegant. The director should get an Academy Award for just how perfectly and tastefully it was handled. I don’t suppose you are willing to spill the beans on that so we could rush in a special nomination for best director?”