Private Dublin

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Thunderous applause filled the auditorium, and the filmmakers beamed as though the claps and cheers were dollar bills. I glanced at Justine, who was applauding politely. Even in a theater full of stars, she shone the brightest. Her wavy brown hair fell against the crimson cocktail dress she’d chosen for the premiere. It had a daring slit that showed off her long, tanned legs, and I could hardly take my eyes off her.

“What did you think?” she asked.

“Pretty good,” I replied. “Alan will do well from it.”

Alan Bloom was a former client, now friend, who was one of four producers of the movie we’d just watched. He was standing near the screen with the director, cast, studio executives and other producers. A Star Wars movie is always a big deal, and this, the first in a new trilogy, looked set to dominate the summer box office. The clamor of the crowd was as much a celebration of Hollywood’s continued ability to captivate global audiences as it was a response to the movie.

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