Laurent (a couple of minutes later):
--Wanna get high before she arrives?
Charlotte the reclining actress expands, opening her arms, which had been folded softly against her warm chest, up slowly, as if trying to hug the enormous irritable fog of Brother. Her palms, facing Laurent, empty and addressed to the impossible subject. Brother anticipates a solid "no."
Charlotte:
--Yes!
Martha comes out onto the patio with her tray. Ring the bells for Brother and Sister, for there are more drinks. Tanqueray and tonics pour les enfants. Laurent smiles at the maid and thanks her without having to change his focus, which is drawn at Charlotte. Charlotte bites her nails. There is an immense unknowing.
Laurent:
--Relax.
Martha opens the Yardley doors to Broussard. The Yardley doors are opened to Broussard by Martha, who, despite her small influence and modest sensitivities as a maid, wishes the best for Charlotte this day. Martha steps aside, pressing her body flush against the obviously expensive, but instantly forgettable floral tapestry perpendicular to the heavy French doors. Earlier, Charlotte instructed Martha to bring Broussard out onto the patio for the meeting, because of its idyllic view, so Martha is obliging and leads the esteemed director through the washed out, beige interiors directly toward the back. Charlotte sits outside, slightly buzzed, hoping for an immediate rapport, but, more importantly for her, a brief stage to prove her ferocity and capability. Laurent sits on the edge of his pool with his legs in the water, pretending not to be involved. Broussard walks, looking around the walls of the house curiously, formulating infantile clues as to the actress she has yet to meet.
Charlotte stands up upon the moment Broussard steps foot out onto the cement. Her face stretches quickly into a smile and her hand, just as quickly out toward her potential employer. Martha cannot help but wish everything well for Charlotte. Everyone smiles, Laurent, from the poolside up at the women. His laughter comes from an image of Catherine Broussard whipping out a megaphone concealed behind her back and shouting out orders prematurely. I'm taking over! He imagines Martha coming back out with a tray of concealer, rouge, and cloths, air brushing his sister's face, securing a small microphone, and, finally, giving Charlotte an unprecedented slap on the face. Good luck, Charlotte! Charlotte is stunned, looking around for her cue.
The introduction, however, works instantly in the favor of Sister. All the more reason for beaucoup des smiles. Brother takes his legs out and stands up in preparation for leaving the two women to themselves. He walks for the liquor cabinet inside, but he is stopped by a courteous Broussard:
--And this is your brother, Laurent?
