Scene 29 Revisited

I leaned away from the table and looked her up and down.

"You are fucking insane," I chuckled. "You look exactly like I remember."

"You're sweet."

"I have a good memory, Nat," I said before leaning in whispered. "And I you will recall I saw you in quite some detail back in the day. You look the same now."

She visibly blushed, looked around again to make sure no one was listening, before asking, "Do you ever think about our time together?"

"Often. And with great fondness."

"It was fun wasn't it," she nodded.

"It was. I certainly haven't had better, before or since."

"Me neither. Not even close."

We both chuckled, but for her, the amusement was short-lived. I think we both knew why almost immediately.

"I can't believe I just said that," she said, leaning back away from the table.

"Don't worry, it's just us talking."

"I don't know what you must be thinking of me right now?"

"I think you're a great person and I'm having fun."

"What great person says the best sex she ever had was with someone other than her husband?"

"It's not a big deal."

"It is when you're married."

I hesitated briefly before asking, "You ever tell him about us."

"About how we almost had sex in front of the cameras and a film crew and then finished the job later on in a hotel room? No. It's never come up."

"Would he be upset?"

"Probably. No one wants to hear that about their spouse."

"We were young and it was years before you guys met."

"Even so."

Suddenly there was silence. Natalie was deep in thought, staring blankly at nothing in particular.

"Let change topics," I said.

She looked up at me and said, "no, let's not."

***

We left the café behind and began walking along the French Riviera; now able to speak freely about whatever we wanted without being afraid of being overheard. We stood leaning against a railing by the side of the road and looked out across the magnificent waterfront; and we both had one thing on our minds.

"We haven't spoken about that time at the Golden Globes," she said. From the way she said it, I suspected she'd been holding onto that question for a while.

"What's there to say? We saw each other across a crowded room and shared a smile," I replied casually.

"It was a bit more than that."

I smiled as I recalled that night from a few years back. She gave me a knowing smile, as if to say "I knew it"; although out loud, she simply said:

"You wanted to fuck me."

"You were there with your husband and you were pregnant and you had just won an award. I was happy for you."

"You were staring at my tits at the whole time."

"They were huge," I admitted while simultaneously taking a peek at her significantly smaller bust.

"Of course they were, I was pregnant at the time. Heavily pregnant."

"And I thought you could've used a good fuck."

Natalie laughed loudly with a look of shock and amusement written across her face.

"You would not have had the guts to fuck a pregnant woman at a fancy awards show while said woman's husband was also attending."

"I don't know, with those tits."

"What could have been," she said jokingly.

"Never too late Nat."

I suddenly became aware we were holding hands with our fingers interlocked. I can't for the life of me remember how that came to be, but I wasn't in a hurry to let go. Her hand was as cool and her skin as silky smooth as I remembered. I was tempted to run my fingers further up her arm and see where it went.

"Fine, next time I get knocked up, I'll call you for a booty call," she said sarcastically.

"Why wait till? I'd have you with a swollen pregnant belly or I'll have you right now as you are, slim and slender; I don't mind."

"That's sweet; I think."

"You ever feel like you need it?"

"What? Sex?"

"You said it yourself, being a mum is hard work. I hope you're kept satisfied," I said, hardly believing we were even having this discussion.

"That's nice of you to be so concerned," she said with a wry smile. "But one way of the other, I'm kept satisfied."

"One way or the other?" I asked.

"Yeah," she said, as if that answered my question. She looked at me and saw I still hadn't fully understood. Shaking her head, she added, "Girls masturbate too Jim."

"Oh right, I was thinking of something else."

"What?"

"Nothing."

"It's something, tell me," she said with a smile.

I chuckled and proceeded carefully. "I was just wondering if any of your recent co-stars ever got as lucky as me."

Natalie rolled her eyes, but still smiled with amusement.

"You think I'm a slut who sleeps with her co-workers don't you?"

"I didn't say that," I said defensively.

"That thing with us was a one time thing," she said firmly.

"I believe you."

"Then stop looking at me like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like you're going to get some tonight."

"I'm not?" I asked slyly.

In that moment, a sudden breeze seemed to wake us both up and realising we were still holding hands, took a few steps back.

"We should be careful. This is Cannes and there's a festival on, there a probably half a dozen photographers watching us," Natalie said.

We both looked around and saw no cameras. I suspected we were both scanning for paparazzi to avoid looking at each other. Our remarks and the implications that went with them were fresh in our minds.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have said that," I said eventually.

"No, don't apologise," she replied quietly. "You're right. We have been dancing around that since we saw each other yesterday. It's just that when you said it just now, it suddenly became real. Does that make sense?"

"Perfectly," I replied.

I knew what was coming next and did my best to hide my disappointment.

"We can't do this," she said sullenly.

"I didn't come here to."

"I know you didn't. I know you're not like that."

"WE are not like that," I said, emphasising the "we".

"Thanks."

"We're not like that at all," I reiterated, before adding, "I mean, we can't be the only actors who ever got so turned on by filming a sex scene that we decided to fuck for real afterwards."

She laughed. "It always comes back to that, doesn't it?"

"We were young. But there's a big difference between mid-20s and mid-30s. That type of thing was okay then, but-"

"I know. You're right," she said sullenly.

We stood there for a moment. I avoided her gaze, not knowing what to say next. For a moment, I remembered where I was. Only Natalie Portman could distract me so much I forget to take in the beauty of France, from the cloudless sky, to the perfect water strong and all the way down to mixture of rustic and modern architecture. Natalie, seemingly reading my mind, turned to admire the view as well. We stood in silence for about a full minute, neither of us wanting to speak next. Suddenly a spotted a couple of people running around about a hundred metres from us; another person followed a few moments later, and then another person. I turned to Natalie and said,

"I think you've been spotted."

"I'm walking around in Cannes during the film festival, I'm surprised it took them this long."

I turned around to face her and reluctantly said, "So I guess this is it."

"I guess so," she said sullenly. She looked gorgeous standing there with the setting sun to one side and the sights of Cannes behind her. After a moment, she added, "You know, when I was 21, I wouldn't have hesitated. Why is that?"

"Something about growing older and that having casual sex with acquaintances is not part of that."

She chuckled, "Silly rule."

"Hey, you're not the one who doesn't get to have sex with a Oscar winner."

She laughed out loud this time; that beautiful laugh of hers. "You're funny Jim. Always were," she said wistfully.

We stared at each other again, but I think we were both mindful of the paparazzi and the rate at which these photos could find their way online.

"Alright, there's only so long we can stare at each other making googly eyes before people start getting suspicious," I said.

She nodded very slightly. Even with the paparazzi looking on, I couldn't help myself and leaned in and gave her a quick peck on the cheek; nothing more than a quick kiss between friends. She looked at me and smiled before walking back in the direction of her hotel.

I didn't watch her go and instead turned my attention back to the beach, though I did watch on with amusement as the paparazzi ran after her. In that moment, I was reminded about where I had been 9 years ago when I'd first met Natalie. I was nothing more than a struggling actor on his first big film set starring opposite a big movie star and one of the sexiest actresses in Hollywood. I was still very green and hadn't even been out of the country many times. I was star struck by anyone mildly famous and didn't understand many of the intricacies involved with making a film. Now all this time later, I was in Cannes as a result of my own success, casually rubbing shoulders with famous people; successful in my own right but still not exactly super famous. It was a situation that suited me just fine.

It was then that I remembered what Natalie and I did when we weren't in bed together. She had helped me learn the ropes, she taught me how to act at networking and social events, she'd given me some pointers on my acting; but more than that, she made me feel comfortable on the movie set. I'd started out nervous on that movie but she ended up making me feel so comfortable I even had the nerve to hit on her. In that moment, called out:

"NAT!"

"Damn it, not so loud," she said, wincing from my shouting. I had expected her to be 50 metres way, so to see her standing next to me made me jump with fright. I had no idea when she had walked back towards me or how long she'd been standing next to me.

"Hey," I said, immediately forgetting what else I was going to say.

"You know, we did more than just fuck," she said casually.

"Yeah," I said, not entirely sure how to respond to that. "We also made a really shitty film."

She smiled. "I meant we spent two weeks filming before we ever stripped down in front of the cameras. We had fun didn't we?"

"We had a lot of fun."

"All that time joking in between takes. All those long lunches and drinks."

"Well, that's because our co-stars were boring people and our director was an idiot."

She nodded in agreement. "You think maybe we can just, you know..." she said, before trailing off.

"You thinking crazy sex on the beach as well?"

"Not what I had in mind," she laughed. "Although, how about we get a drink? Maybe we can, you know, talk about something other than sex and my being a mother."

"Is suppose we have been a bit limited in our conversations today," I said.

"Come on, I feel like having a glass of wine or two."

"Or five even.'

"That's the spirit," she laughed.

"I know a good place just around the corner. It's-"

"Are they going to be a problem?" I interrupted, pointing towards the paparazzi.

"They might be, especially if we want to have a few drinks."

"Tomorrow's headline, 'Natalie Portman spotted drunk in France'," I said.

"Exactly," she said before pausing to think. After a few moments, a light bulb went off in her head. "Let's go back to my hotel. The view from my balcony is amazing. And best of all, none of that lot will be allowed inside."

"Lead on."

She smiled widely and began walking; I followed, as did the paparazzi.

"By the way Nat, I think it's hilarious that you're inviting me up to your hotel room about 20 seconds after deciding it would be a bad idea for us to hook up."

"Oh shut up," she laughed

***

There was no talk of sex as we sat on the balcony; just dinner, a nice bottle of champagne and a catch up between friends. But whether intentional or not, she wasn't making it easy for me. For starters, her hair was down and blowing freely in the wind; I don't think she realised how sexy it looked. She had also kicked off her heels after walking in the door, and was walking barefoot around the hotel suite. And after more and more wine, she began to slouch in her chair a bit and her dress had hiked midway up her thighs. But despite this, neither of us made a move. Instead we talked about life, both private and professional.

"So ultimately, I glad I did those films, they were really fun, but I'm not in a hurry to do another one," she said.

"Or at least until you need the pay cheque?"

"Well yeah, that too," she laughed. "How was your food?"

"I wasn't expecting much when you recommended room service, but that steak..."

"Right?!" she said enthusiastically.

"Just perfect," I nodded in agreement.

"I can't remember ever having a bad meal in this country."

Natalie scraped the last bit of food off of her plate before leaning back in her chair and letting out a satisfied sigh. I hate to admit it but she seemed more satisfied now than when he had had sex all those years ago.

"Sun's setting," I said.

Natalie turned around and together we watched the sunset in silence. I'd spent so much time staring at Natalie that I'd neglected the beautiful French scenery behind her. The setting sun created beautiful hues of orange and red on the clouds against the blue sky. It was picture perfect. And yet I gave it no more than a few seconds before returning my gaze to Natalie.

Suddenly, the buzz of her phone vibration broke the silence. Natalie picked it up and stared at it for a moment.

"Huh," she said.

"Something wrong?"

"No, it's just my publicist. She just messaged me to say the news is about to do a segment on me."

"Since when do you care what the nightly news says about you?"

"I don't. But a gust of wind blew up my dress on the red carpet last night. It was only for a moment, but I'm hoping no one saw anything."

"Hope you were wearing underwear," I muttered.

"Therein lies my problem," she said hesitantly.

"You're kidding?" I said, unable to hide my amusement.

"It was a really tight, figure-hugging dress. It would've looked obvious if I was wearing underwear, so I..."

"Went commando?"

Natalie visibly blushed before looking inside the hotel room and saying,

"Do you mind?"

"Not at all, let's watch."

We picked up our glasses and made our way inside. We both sat down on the couch and began to watch and wait. I looked at her for a moment before asking,

"Did you Google yourself?"

"Of course. I found nothing. I figured if the news cameras didn't get anything, I'm covered."

We waded through a few minutes of international news before we first caught a glimpse of Natalie on the red carpet. This being Cannes, the news broadcast was in French meaning I couldn't understand a word.

It felt a little strange to see Natalie on TV. On screen she looked so regal, so beautiful and so untouchable; almost too perfect to be real. But here she was right beside me; so close I could smell her. If I wanted to I could reach over and touch her. I sometimes have to remind myself how lucky I was to have slept with her.

The news piece went on for about a minute. I didn't have to understand French to get the general gist, and luckily for Natalie, her modesty remained intact. When it finished, Natalie sighed with relief.

"No crotch shot and they liked the movie; I call that a victory," she said.

"You speak French?" I asked.

"Oui."

"Damn that's sexy," I muttered.

Natalie smiled before standing up and walking towards the kitchen.

"Red, white or bubbles?" she asked.

"Hmm?"

Natalie waved her empty glass at me. It hadn't dawned on me that we'd polished off the entire bottle.

"Red," I answered.

I was about to stand up and join her when one of the buttons on the TV remote caught my attention. I pressed it and up popped the in-house movie list. I looked behind me and saw Natalie was too preoccupied with cleaning one of the wine glasses to notice what was on screen. I turned back to the TV and started scrolling; I just had to know. After about 30 seconds, I finally found what I was looking for. I smiled widely, unsure what to do next.

To press play would be incredibly cheeky and to simply turn off the TV would be a missed opportunity. I was mindful that Natalie had walked away on the esplanade earlier when our flirtation became too real. But then again, I REALLY wanted to see her reaction. I decided to split the difference, turned around and said to her.

"You're not gonna believe this.'

"What?"

"Come take a look at this."

Natalie walked back to the couch and handed me a glass of wine. In return, I simply gestured at the TV. She looked at the screen and to my relief, she laughed immediately. Right there on the in-house movie menu was our movie; rated R for course language and sex scenes.

"We are not watching this," she laughed.

"But we both give such a great performances."

"You maybe. I was terrible."

"I don't know about that. I mean, you sure know how to fake an orgasm."

She shot me a bemused look before replying, "If you just want to watch the sex scene, just say so."

"I didn't say that," I laughed.

"Yeah, but you're thinking it."

"I wasn't planning for this, but if you want to, I'm game."

Natalie stood there, looking at me over the top of her glass, for what seemed like an eternity.

"Press the damn play button," she said.

I tried to hide my excitement as I pressed play and immediately began to fast-forwarded through the movie, anxious to get to our scene. If I was being honest, I had viewed this particularly scene many times and knew exactly where it was in the film. But for appearances sake, I pretended not to and skipped over it before rewinding and letting it play normally. There was some dialogue before Natalie's character walked on screen wearing nothing but a shirt and panties; behind me in the hotel room at this very moment, the real Natalie took a large gulp of her wine. She hasn't said a word since I started playing the film and remained standing behind the couch

On screen, I was saying some terrible dialogue. My performance didn't help. I was visibly cringing as the scene played; I'd forgotten how bad this movie was.

"You've been working out since then," Natalie said.

"And you still look exactly the same."

"Well that's a lie," she scoffed.

I turned around and gave her a smile. As I did so, I looked over her features. As I've been saying, she looked more mature now, but no less beautiful.

It seems I wasn't the only one cringing. Natalie's next line delivery in the movie caused her to twist her face into an odd little expression. She took another large sip of wine. I smiled and turned back to the TV. Our characters slowly approached each other as slow gentle piano music began playing in the background.

"Here we go," I muttered.

On screen, we kissed. I could tell it was a nervous screen kiss; lacking the passion of the real ones we exchanged not long after the cameras stopped rolling. And then off came Natalie's t-shirt. I remember when watching the film for the first time, being surprised at how tastefully the scene was shot. Our director George had never struck me as a very good filmmaker and I half expected gratuitous shots of Natalie's breast, but there she was on screen, covered tastefully in shadow. All of this appeared lost on Natalie though who could barely keep her eyes on the television screen. I tried lending her support:

"Your tits look great," I said.

"I'm a mum now, they don't look like that anymore," she muttered.

"Like I said, I remember seeing you when you were pregnant. They looked enormous."

"First time in my life I had big tits. I was heavily pregnant and had so many guys staring at my cleavage, it was weird. Last thing I expected after getting pregnant was that more guys would want to fuck me," she said.