Free Movie Star By Lizzie Pepper by Hilary Liftin Page A

multimillion-dollar property in the heart of Beverly Hills, but otherwise the place was unexceptional. It looked likea run-of-the-mill community center where senior citizens might learn Spanish and AA meetings happened every Wednesday night in a room with folding chairs and a limited supply of doughnuts. Where was the big mystery? Why was everyone so worked up about One Cell? Headlines would be made if only the press could see how mundane it all was.
    I did, however, see a change in the way Rob carried himself here. He was in less of a rush, walking more slowly, stopping to talk to people along the way. He knew everyone’s name and asked them personal questions, like whether a sick dog had improved and how someone’s audition had gone. He seemed very relaxed, and as we made our tour I started to see why. At events he had to be on—acting the part of Rob Mars. And at home he seemed to relish the quiet. It was only on the rare occasions when we had a dinner with friends and family that I’d seen him let down his guard like this. He wasn’t gossip fodder here; just, it seemed, a respected community member. I could certainly see why that appealed to him.
    I had never been a joiner. My family belonged to a country club, and we went to church on Christmas and Easter, if we weren’t on a holiday trip, but I had never stumbled on a particular community whose philosophy or beliefs inspired me. The closest I’d had to that was being on location for
American Dream
, with a cast and crew that became like a family, but since I was at least ten years younger than most of the other regular cast members, it wasn’t exactly a community of peers.
    Rob, in the little he’d told me, had said that the basis of the Studio was intense internal work that taught you a new way to be in the world. Rob was famous for having walked on coals to prepare for the role of Jesus in
The Son
. (Yes, for the record he absolutely knows that Jesus walked on water. It was an exercise in commitment, not miracles.) But what I admired most about him was more subtle. It was his total outlook—the steady confidence, his acting, the complete embodiment that madehim a convincing (albeit controversial) Jesus—all this he credited to the Studio. What they called the One Cell Whole Body Principles.
    So now I was trying to see how exactly all that righteous self-knowledge went down in this expensive but rather generic piece of Beverly Hills real estate. I wanted to understand One Cell. I had to, if I was going to stay serious with Rob. It was a still mysterious part of my boyfriend’s life.
    But it didn’t turn out to be Rob who really brought me to the Studio. It was Meg.
    When we walked out into the courtyard, we ran into Geoff, and a woman Rob introduced as his friend Meg. I recognized her as the attractive brunette from the picture in Rob’s office. Meg was about my age, tall and slender, her hair even longer and darker than mine. With big, natural waves. It was like my hair after two hours’ prep for an award show. If the Whole Body Principles could give me hair like that without professional help, then I was all in. Except hers had a purple streak down the side. Not exactly what I’d expected from a meditation devotee. She had pale, smooth skin and a dimpled smile that revealed small white teeth.
    “Hey, welcome,” she said.
    “Thanks.”
    “I’ve known Meg a long time,” Rob said. “You guys are going to like each other.”
    “Cool,” I said. But I felt suddenly shy, like I was meeting Rob’s family all over again. The four of us—me and Rob, Meg and Geoff—sat down to coffee. When the four of us were at the table together, my age difference with Rob stood out. Like we were two young women sitting there with our fathers.
    When Geoff and Rob started talking, Meg ignored them and turned to me. “So, what do you think?” She gestured to the buildingssurrounding the courtyard. “It can’t possibly live up to the hype.” Her smile was warm and