"Today's audition went really well."
Winona Ryder stepped through the door of her West Hollywood home that evening with an unmistakable smile on her face. She looked tired from the long day, but there was excitement in her eyes.
Arthur looked up from the sofa.
"Really?"
Winona nodded.
"Director Coppola is looking for someone young to play the youngest daughter of the Corleone family. I think the audition went well."
Arthur smiled.
"It should have."
He had been thinking about the project for weeks.
The Godfather Part III was not simply another Hollywood sequel. The first two films had become part of American cinematic history, and Francis Ford Coppola was returning to a story that had already established itself as one of the most respected film franchises in the industry.
The casting alone had become a subject of fascination in Hollywood.
"There was even a little excitement outside the studio," Winona continued.
Arthur raised an eyebrow.
"What happened?"
"We saw Madonna."
Arthur laughed.
"Madonna?"
"Yes."
Winona sat beside him.
"She was there for an audition too."
Arthur immediately understood.
Madonna was already one of the biggest names in popular music, but she was also trying to establish herself as a serious actress.
Arthur glanced at Winona.
"Then I suppose the role wasn't meant for her."
Winona smiled.
"She's over thirty. Coppola specifically wants someone young enough to convincingly play the daughter."
Arthur nodded.
That was one of the interesting things about The Godfather Part III. The franchise had originally been dominated by male characters—Vito Corleone, Michael Corleone, Sonny Corleone, Fredo, Tom Hagen, and the other men surrounding the family.
But the new story required a much stronger focus on Michael's daughter.
The actress chosen for that role would have to stand opposite some of Hollywood's most established performers.
It wasn't merely a supporting part.
It was an opportunity to enter one of the most prestigious film franchises in American cinema.
Arthur looked at Winona.
"If you get it, this could be very important for you."
Winona smiled.
"That's what Jessica keeps telling me."
Then her expression softened.
"I'm going back to San Francisco tomorrow."
Arthur nodded.
"When are you leaving?"
"Tomorrow afternoon."
"And Seattle?"
"Thursday."
"Two days."
Arthur yawned.
Winona looked at him with amusement.
"You're tired."
"It's been a busy month."
"Seattle?"
"Seattle."
Arthur leaned back against the sofa.
"Nora is directing her first film, so she's paying attention to everything. Every scene, every location, every piece of dialogue. And it's my first real experience participating in film production."
He sighed.
"I have to be diligent."
Winona smiled mischievously.
"Poor Arthur."
Arthur looked at her.
"What?"
"You've been exhausted lately."
She leaned closer.
"I thought you still had enough energy to cause trouble."
Arthur laughed.
"Who says I don't?"
Winona kissed his cheek.
"You're the one who's always complaining about being tired."
Arthur reached for her and pulled her closer.
"And somehow you're always the one who wins."
Winona laughed.
"That's because you always give up first."
"That's not true."
"Of course it is."
She rested her head against him and gently rubbed his stomach.
"Enough. Sleep."
Arthur smiled.
"All right."
For the moment, there was nothing else to discuss.
Tomorrow, Winona would return to San Francisco.
And the day after that, Arthur would return to Seattle.
Neither of them knew exactly how dramatically Hollywood was about to change around them.
The following afternoon, Arthur drove Winona to the airport.
They said goodbye outside the terminal, and Arthur watched her disappear through the entrance before returning to his car.
His own flight to Seattle was approaching.
But before leaving Los Angeles, he decided to spend one evening with someone who had known him long before Hollywood began taking him seriously.
Simon.
Fatty Simon, as everyone called him, was waiting for Arthur at a nightclub in West Hollywood.
The moment Arthur arrived, Simon looked at him and laughed.
"Look at you!"
Arthur smiled.
"What?"
"You look like a completely different person."
Simon shook his head.
"A few months ago you were worrying about whether anyone would buy your screenplay. Now you've sold two scripts and you've even acted in a movie."
Arthur ordered a drink.
"Things moved quickly."
"Quickly?"
Simon laughed.
"You call that quickly?"
He took a large sip of his beer.
"So when is the movie coming out?"
Arthur thought for a moment.
"Edward Scissorhands?"
"Yeah."
"I don't know."
Simon stared at him.
"You don't know?"
"The studio decides."
Arthur shrugged.
"I'm just a supporting actor."
"Are you going to walk the red carpet?"
Arthur laughed.
"The red carpet?"
"Of course."
"I don't even know whether they'll want me at the premiere."
Arthur shook his head.
"I'm a newcomer. Nobody knows who I am."
Simon laughed.
"Not yet."
He patted Arthur on the shoulder.
"Still, if you ever meet Jodie Foster, get me an autograph."
Arthur smiled.
"All right."
Jodie Foster was one of Hollywood's most respected young actresses and had just won the Academy Award for Best Actress for The Accused earlier that year.
For someone like Simon, meeting her would have been a dream.
Arthur looked around the nightclub.
West Hollywood was alive that night.
The room was filled with music, cigarette smoke, expensive perfume, celebrities, aspiring actors, musicians, producers, models, and people who simply wanted to be close to Hollywood's nightlife.
This was the other side of the film industry.
During the day, Hollywood was offices, studio lots, meetings, contracts, scripts, and production schedules.
At night, it became something else entirely.
A place where reputations were built over drinks.
Where agents met actors.
Where producers heard rumors.
Where deals could begin with nothing more than a conversation at a bar.
Arthur finished his drink.
"I'm going to the restroom."
Simon waved him off.
"Go."
Simon was already moving toward the dance floor.
Arthur walked down the dim corridor toward the restroom.
The nightclub was crowded, and people were constantly moving between the rooms.
Near the restroom entrance, a woman suddenly emerged and bumped into him.
"Excuse me."
She barely looked at him before hurrying away.
Arthur stopped.
He recognized her.
Julia Roberts.
He had seen her before when he had visited the production offices connected with Pretty Woman.
Arthur turned his head and watched her disappear into the crowd.
For a moment, he said nothing.
Then he looked toward the restroom.
An uncomfortable thought crossed his mind.
He entered.
Richard Gere was standing near the mirror, adjusting his clothes.
Arthur recognized him immediately.
The pieces suddenly seemed to fit together.
Julia Roberts leaving the restroom in a hurry.
Richard Gere inside.
The production of Pretty Woman already underway.
Arthur's expression became unreadable.
He had spent much of the previous month thinking about the film.
Pretty Woman was one of the projects he considered a major competitor to Sleepless in Seattle.
The romantic comedy had a strong concept, a recognizable male star, and a young actress with growing potential.
Arthur had always wondered how he could compete with it.
He hadn't expected an opportunity to appear in such a strange way.
Richard Gere suddenly looked unwell.
He moved toward one of the stalls and became sick.
Arthur stood silently for a moment.
The next sequence of events would later become one of the strangest nights in his memory.
He acted quickly, using the privacy of the restroom and the confusion of the nightclub to attack Gere.
The assault was brutal and deliberate.
There was no shouting that could clearly be heard over the nightclub's music.
No obvious witness entered.
Arthur made sure the damaged restroom appeared to be temporarily out of service, and he left the scene before anyone understood what had happened.
The attack left Richard Gere unconscious and severely injured.
Arthur did not stay around to watch what happened next.
He collected the clothing and other material that could potentially connect the incident to him, concealed them, and slipped out through a side entrance.
Then, after a short time, he returned to the nightclub as if nothing had happened.
Simon was still there.
"Ready?"
Arthur nodded.
"Let's go."
The two men left together.
Arthur drove Simon home first.
Afterward, he continued toward the outskirts of Los Angeles.
The city lights gradually disappeared behind him.
He stopped at an isolated location and disposed of the material he had taken from the nightclub.
By the time he returned to Hollywood Hills, the night was almost over.
Arthur went to bed without showing the slightest sign of what had happened.
The next morning, he woke early.
He walked downstairs and bought several newspapers from a nearby newsstand.
He didn't have to search for the story.
It was already everywhere.
The headlines were sensational.
Hollywood Star Found Seriously Injured in Nightclub Restroom
Richard Gere Hospitalized After Brutal Assault
The photographs were even more shocking.
Richard Gere had been discovered in terrible condition and transported to the hospital.
The details were spreading rapidly through entertainment circles.
Arthur stared at one of the photographs.
For a moment, he said nothing.
Then he folded the newspaper.
Hollywood had always been fascinated by scandal.
But this was more than ordinary gossip.
A major star had been attacked inside a fashionable West Hollywood nightclub.
The police began investigating.
Early speculation centered on the possibility that Gere had been deliberately targeted by someone who knew him.
The investigation remained open.
But the nightclub itself was a complicated environment.
Celebrities came and went constantly.
Drinks were consumed.
Arguments happened.
People disappeared into private rooms.
And witnesses often remembered very little about what they had seen.
For the moment, Arthur remained invisible.
By the time the entertainment pages were filled with speculation about Richard Gere, Arthur was already back on the set of Sleepless in Seattle.
He arrived in Seattle without saying anything to anyone.
The production had its own problems to worry about.
Then came the news.
Pretty Woman had effectively been forced to halt production.
The consequences were enormous.
Gere had only been shooting for a short time, meaning that replacing him would require the production to reorganize its schedule and reshoot the material already completed.
For a studio production, that meant money.
Crew availability.
Location availability.
Contract negotiations.
Insurance complications.
And, perhaps most importantly, time.
Arthur was standing with Nora Ephron when the subject came up.
"Director," Arthur said casually, "I heard Garry Marshall's Pretty Woman has stopped production."
Nora looked at him.
"Temporarily, apparently."
She shrugged.
"Richard Gere is the male lead. If they replace him, they'll have to reshoot everything."
Arthur nodded.
"That could take a while."
"Certainly."
Nora folded her arms.
"But it's not impossible."
Arthur smiled.
"They'll find someone."
"They'll have to."
Nora thought for a moment.
"Besides, they originally approached Al Pacino."
Arthur looked at her.
"Pacino?"
"Yes."
Nora smiled.
"He wasn't interested in the story."
Arthur nodded.
That sounded right.
Pacino's career had taken a very different path from the conventional romantic leading man.
He had become associated with intense dramatic performances and complicated characters.
Pretty Woman required something different.
Arthur suddenly remembered something else.
"Even if Marshall wanted Pacino now, he couldn't get him."
Nora looked at him.
"Why?"
"The Godfather Part III."
Nora smiled.
"You're right."
The Coppola production was approaching.
Pacino's return as Michael Corleone was one of the biggest events in Hollywood.
Nora then laughed.
"Marshall will probably bring Christopher Reeve back."
Arthur looked at her.
"Christopher Reeve?"
"He was one of the people they originally wanted for the role."
Arthur smiled.
The irony was obvious.
Christopher Reeve was one of the most recognizable faces in American cinema because of Superman.
For more than a decade, he had been associated with the superhero role.
Now Hollywood was once again considering him for a completely different kind of leading man.
Arthur didn't know what decision the production would ultimately make.
But one thing was becoming clear.
Pretty Woman had suffered a major disruption.
And that disruption could have consequences for the release schedule.
If production had to be restarted and extensive material reshot, the film might no longer be ready for the summer window everyone had expected.
Arthur kept his expression neutral.
Inside, however, he couldn't help thinking about Sleepless in Seattle.
The competition had suddenly become less direct.
That didn't mean his own film would succeed.
Nothing was guaranteed.
But the theatrical marketplace was changing.
One less major romantic competitor could matter.
Arthur returned his attention to the set.
His own role in Sleepless in Seattle was small.
He wasn't pretending otherwise.
Most of his value to the production came from the fact that he had written the screenplay and understood the story from its earliest form.
That gave him a different kind of relationship with Nora.
They frequently discussed scenes.
Sometimes they debated dialogue.
Sometimes they talked about character motivations.
Sometimes Nora simply asked him why a particular moment existed in the screenplay.
As the weeks passed, Nora became increasingly comfortable in the director's chair.
At first, she had approached every decision with enormous caution.
Now she was beginning to trust her instincts.
Arthur could see the transformation happening in front of him.
One afternoon, he stood near the edge of the set watching Tom Hanks rehearse.
"Tom is really good."
Standing beside him was Rita Wilson.
She smiled when she heard the comment.
"Nora told me you strongly recommended Tom."
Arthur shook his head.
"I'm not the only person who thinks he's good."
Rita smiled.
"Still, thank you."
Rita Wilson was playing the female lead's close friend and the male lead's sister in the film.
Her presence on set gave her an interesting perspective on Tom's performance.
The two had married only the previous year, and she was clearly proud of him.
Arthur watched Tom again.
At this stage of his career, Tom Hanks had not yet become the towering movie star he would eventually become.
He was respected, successful, and increasingly recognizable, but he was still often categorized as a comedy actor.
Hollywood had not yet seen the full range of what he could do.
Compared with the enormous star power surrounding someone like Tom Cruise, Hanks occupied a very different position.
Arthur knew that would change.
"Tom takes acting seriously," Rita said.
"I can see that."
Arthur smiled.
"He has something important."
"What?"
"Timing."
Arthur watched Hanks deliver the scene again.
"He's funny when the scene needs humor, but he doesn't force it."
Rita nodded.
"That's one of the things I admire about him."
Arthur smiled.
"I think audiences are going to like him."
He didn't say what he was really thinking.
They're going to love him.
The production continued.
Rain fell over Seattle.
The crew worked through long days.
Nora refined scenes.
Tom and Meg Ryan developed the chemistry that would eventually become the emotional center of the film.
And Arthur slowly began understanding what producing truly meant.
It wasn't about standing in front of the camera.
It wasn't about having your name printed prominently on a poster.
It was about being involved in the hundreds of decisions that made the final image possible.
By Thanksgiving, the Seattle portion of the production had progressed significantly.
Arthur returned to Los Angeles for the holiday.
The production would soon move to New York.
That meant another phase of filming.
Another city.
Another collection of locations.
Another set of logistical problems.
But Arthur was beginning to enjoy it.
He had expected filmmaking to be chaotic.
He hadn't expected to enjoy solving the chaos.
Then Winona returned.
She had completed Mermaids, and there was another piece of news waiting for Arthur.
She entered his Northridge home with a smile.
Arthur immediately noticed it.
"What happened?"
Winona walked toward him.
"Guess."
Arthur narrowed his eyes.
"You got the role?"
Winona nodded.
"Yes."
Arthur stared at her.
"The Godfather Part III?"
"Yes."
He pulled her onto the sofa.
"You're playing Mary Corleone?"
Winona nodded happily.
"Jessica already had me sign the contract."
Arthur smiled.
"When do you leave?"
"Middle of next month."
"For Italy?"
"Yes."
Winona leaned against him.
"They're starting with the Sicilian locations, then Italy and the Vatican scenes. After that they'll return to Manhattan."
Arthur listened carefully.
"That's a long production."
"It is."
Winona smiled.
"And it's going to be beautiful."
Arthur looked at her.
He wanted to share her excitement.
He really did.
But something about the situation bothered him.
He knew the history.
He remembered that Sofia Coppola had been connected to her father's films since childhood.
She had even appeared as the baby during the baptism sequence in the first Godfather film.
Over the years, she had continued appearing in Francis Coppola's productions.
She was not simply another actress auditioning for one of his films.
She was his daughter.
And Arthur knew that Hollywood could be intensely personal.
Especially when family and filmmaking became intertwined.
Most of the major players surrounding The Godfather franchise had deep connections to Italian-American cinema and the Coppola family's history.
Al Pacino.
Robert Duvall.
Robert De Niro.
Francis Coppola.
The entire franchise carried a cultural identity that was difficult to separate from the people who created it.
Winona's background was entirely different.
She had built her career through unconventional American films and had developed a distinctive image of her own.
Arthur couldn't help wondering whether Coppola would ultimately allow someone else to play the role.
He didn't tell Winona.
Not yet.
Instead, he asked,
"So you're going to Sicily first?"
"Yes."
"And then Italy?"
"Yes."
"And New York?"
"Afterward."
Arthur nodded.
"That sounds incredible."
Winona smiled.
"You don't sound very excited."
"I am."
He kissed her forehead.
"I'm just thinking about how long we'll be apart."
That made Winona smile.
"You can visit me."
Arthur looked at her.
"Maybe I will."
"Really?"
"Of course."
Arthur had another reason.
If he went to Italy, he could be there if something unexpected happened.
And he strongly suspected that something might.
Winona wrapped her arms around his neck.
"We could spend a few days traveling around Sicily."
Arthur smiled.
"That sounds nice."
"We could see the Mediterranean."
She became more enthusiastic.
"It could be like a winter vacation."
Arthur laughed.
"You're supposed to be working."
"I can have a few days off."
"Fair enough."
He kissed her.
Inside, however, Arthur remained uneasy.
He didn't want to tell her what he suspected.
If Sofia Coppola ultimately became involved in the casting decision, Winona's contract might not protect her from everything.
Hollywood contracts could be renegotiated.
Roles could change.
Directors could change their minds.
Studios could alter casting decisions.
And family influence could sometimes be stronger than any formal agreement.
Arthur had seen enough of Hollywood already to understand that.
He looked at the mobile phone sitting nearby.
"Keep this with you."
Winona glanced at it.
"My phone?"
"Yes."
Arthur pointed toward it.
"If anything happens, call me immediately."
She smiled.
"I will."
"I mean it."
Winona studied his expression.
"Why are you suddenly so serious?"
"Because you're going into one of the biggest productions in Hollywood."
Arthur paused.
"And because I don't want you dealing with a problem alone."
Winona smiled.
"You worry too much."
"Probably."
She moved closer.
"I'm going to be fine."
Arthur nodded.
"I hope so."
Winona kissed him.
Then she smiled mischievously and wrapped her arms around his neck.
"I'll call you if anything happens."
Arthur laughed softly.
"Good."
Outside the window, Los Angeles was already glowing beneath the evening sky.
Hollywood was moving faster than ever.
A major production was restarting.
Another was preparing to move to New York.
A young actress had just entered one of the most prestigious franchises in American cinema.
A rising actor had been pulled into a scandal that could derail a major romantic comedy.
And Arthur was standing at the center of all of it, watching the pieces move across the board.
He had once believed that success in Hollywood came from writing the right screenplay.
Now he understood that a screenplay was only the beginning.
Timing mattered.
Casting mattered.
Distribution mattered.
Budgets mattered.
Relationships mattered.
And sometimes, events completely outside a filmmaker's control could change the fate of an entire production.
Arthur looked at Winona.
For the moment, he pushed those thoughts aside.
She was happy.
That was enough.
But somewhere in the back of his mind, one question remained.
Would Winona Ryder actually make it to Italy as Mary Corleone?
Or would Francis Ford Coppola change his mind before the cameras began rolling?
Arthur already knew which possibility he feared.
And if his memory of Hollywood history was correct, he might not have to wait very long to find out.