“People do it, you know,” he says.
“Get married for stupid reasons?” I ask. “Yeah, I know.”
“Was that…” He gestures.
It’s vague—more like he’s skipping stones than actually indicating anything specific—but I get what he’s trying to say.
“No,” I say. “I actually liked Jeremy.”
Only partly a lie. I liked him sometimes. I even loved him sometimes.
“The Novelist,” he says.
“Jeremy.”
Gabe nods.
“I actually liked Jacinda too,” he says. “I still do, in fact.”
“Great,” I say. “Should I expect to see a blind item about two former lovers rekindling their romance by renewing their vows in Vegas next week?”
“No,” Gabe says. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”
“I don’t care,” I say.
“Of course,” Gabe says.
I hate that he knows I’m lying.
This time I’m the one making the skipping-stone gesture, because I just want him to hurry and finish his dumb-ass apology so I can leave and go home and cry about his dead dog. Because I definitely don’t want to cry about some stupid misguided sense of lost time and missed chances.
“I’m sure you read all the things they were writing about her around that time,” Gabe says. “About the married directors. About the one who named her in his divorce proceedings.”
“Sure,” I said.
I’m steeling myself, because I really don’t want to feel sympathetic or understanding about whatever arrangement Gabe and Jacinda had, but the truth is that I do remember what the tabloids said about her.
“She didn’t. Sleep with them, that is,” he says. “It was all one-sided. They propositioned her, but she turned them down.”
I nod.
“It didn’t really seem to matter, though,” Gabe says. “No one believed her. As far as the tabloids were concerned, she was single and beautiful and therefore somehow responsible.”
I’d been asked to interview her. Years ago—when there had been rumors that Gabe and her were on the rocks—someone had pitched it to Broad Sheets. They’d begged me to do it, knowing that it would certainly go viral.
I’d bowed to the pressure, but then, the night before I was supposed to meet Jacinda Lockwood in the hotel lobby of the St. Regis, I’d chickened out and called it off. Someone else had done the interview instead. It turned out just okay.
“Oliver is the one who introduced us,” Gabe says. “We all thought it would be a mutually beneficial thing, but…”
He pauses.
“I didn’t expect you,” he says.
I freeze.
“I didn’t expect you to show up at my house with your very big eyes and your bad questions and your smart mouth and…”
I’m clutching the counter behind me like it’s the edge of a pool in the deep end and I’m a brand-new swimmer who isn’t sure she’s not going to sink straight to the bottom if she lets go.
Gabe looks up at me, and I hold on tighter.
“You surprised me,” he says.
He smiles, that devastating grin of his—the one that launched a thousand memes.
“They weren’t bad questions,” I say.
“They were.”
We stare at each other for ages.
“What is this?” I finally ask.
Gabe glances down at his glass.
“Water?”
I glare at him.
“What is this?” I ask again, gesturing emphatically between us. “What do you want from me?”
He seems speechless at the question, and I wait for what feels like an eternity for him to answer.
“I wanted to see you,” he finally says.
I throw out my hands, knocking my own glass off the counter, getting water and glass everywhere.
“Shit,” I say.
“Don’t worry about it,” Gabe says.
He doesn’t move.
We stand there, water and glass at our feet, saying nothing.
“I’d like to take you somewhere,” Gabe says.
“Somewhere else?” I ask.
He nods.
“Montana,” he says.
I stare at him.
“You want to take me to Montana?” I ask.
“Yes,” he says.
“You’re nuts,” I say.
He smiles at that. “Yeah, probably,” he says.
“I can’t go with you to Montana,” I say.
“I’ll take care of everything,” he says.
“That’s not why and you know it,” I say.
“I know,” he says.
We stare at each other for a long time.
“I can’t go,” I say.
He nods.
“I can’t,” I say again.
We both know that I’m lying.
ENTERTAINMENT WEEKLY
MATTHIAS AND PARKER: Dynamic Duo
[excerpt]
By Robin Romanoff
I had been warned that trying to interview Parker and Matthias at the same time was a feat in and of itself. The two friends have known each other for so long and are so enamored of each other’s company that it isn’t long before the interview devolves into the two of them swapping inside jokes and speaking in the kind of shorthand only available to two people as close as they are. It’s clear that their much-lauded friendship is the real deal.
“Well, Gabe is the only person I ever considered for the part of Dex,” Matthias tells me.
“Only because you decided you weren’t going to star in it yourself,” Parker interjects. “We both know you do a much better Cary Grant than I do.”
“That’s the point,” Matthias says. “I didn’t want the movie to be a straight remake of the original. It had to be different.”
The difference is something that’s been long discussed.
“We wanted to update a few things,” Matthias says. “And Gabe brought a lot to the table—especially when it came to the story line between Tracy and her father.”
“It’s horribly sexist and gross,” Parker says. “He blames her for the affair and she apologizes in the end? We thought we could do better.”
I’m not sure fans of the original will agree with such an assessment, but it’s surprising to hear Parker speak so passionately and thoughtfully about the sexism woven throughout the original film.
It’s clear this movie isn’t going to be what audiences expect.
BROAD SHEETS
GABE PARKER:
Shaken, Not Stirred—Part Two
By Chani Horowitz
The world is different on the other side of the velvet rope. Us normals don’t like to hear that, of course. We crave confirmation that stars, well, they’re just like us.