“That’s not a problem,” he said.
I sighed, disappointed. “OK,” I said, resigned. “I can get you parts. The rest is up to you.”
“That’s fine. That’s all I need.”
I asked him his agent’s name, and I got off the phone. I made two phone calls. One was to my own agent, telling him to poach Nick from his guy. The second was to a man with the highest-grossing action movie in the country. It was about a police chief in his late fifties who defeats Russian spies on the day he’s supposed to retire.
“Don?” I said when he answered the phone.
“Evelyn! What can I do for you?”
“I need you to hire a friend of mine in your next movie. The biggest part you can get him.”
“OK,” he said. “You got it.” He did not ask me why. He did not ask me if I was OK. We had been through enough together for him to know better. I simply gave him Nick’s name, and I got off the phone.
After I set the phone back in the cradle, I bawled and I howled. I gripped the sheets. I missed the only man I’d ever loved with any lasting meaning.
My heart ached in my chest when I thought about telling Connor, when I thought about trying to live a day without him, when I thought of a world without Harry Cameron.
It was Harry who created me, who powered me, who loved me unconditionally, who gave me a family and a daughter.
So I bellowed in my hotel room. I opened the windows, and I screamed out into the open air. I let my tears soak everything in sight.
If I had been in a better frame of mind, I might have marveled at just how opportunistic Nick was, how aggressive.
In my younger years, I might have been impressed. Harry most certainly would have said he had guts. Plenty of people can make something out of being in the right place at the right time. But Nick somehow turned being in the wrong place at the wrong time into a career.
Then again, I might be giving that moment too much credit in Nick’s own story. He changed his name, cut his hair, and went on to do very, very big things. And something tells me that even if he had never run into me, he would have made it happen all on his own. I guess what I’m saying is it’s not all luck.
It’s luck and being a son of a bitch.
Harry taught me that.
Now This
February 28, 1989
PRODUCER HARRY CAMERON HAS DIED
Harry Cameron, prolific producer and onetime husband of Evelyn Hugo, died of an aneurysm over the weekend in Los Ange
les. He was 58 years old.
The independent producer, formerly a Sunset Studios mogul, was known for shepherding some of Hollywood’s greatest films, including the ’50s classics To Be with You and Little Women and some of the most exciting films of the ’60s, ’70s, and ’80s, such as 1981’s All for Us. He had just wrapped on the upcoming Theresa’s Wisdom.
Cameron was known for his keen taste and kind but firm demeanor. Hollywood has been left heartbroken with the loss of one of its favorites. “Harry was an actor’s producer,” said a former colleague. “If he picked up a project, you knew you wanted to be involved.”
Cameron is survived by his teenage daughter with Evelyn Hugo, Connor Cameron.
Now This
September 4, 1989
WILD CHILD
BLIND ITEM!
Which precious Hollywood progeny was caught with her pants down? And we mean that literally!