by Lynn Ames
Letterman wagged his finger at his guest. “You. You’re trouble, you know that?”
“As a matter of fact, I did. But apparently you didn’t get the memo.”
“Apparently.” Letterman cleared his throat, picked up his index cards, and pretended to study them. “I know. I know what I wanted to ask. Here it is, right here.” He indicated one of the cards.
“Good that you wrote it down. I wouldn’t want you to forget.”
“Shh. Let me get this out before the rest of my brain leaks out my ears.”
Dara folded her hands in her lap and affected a demure pose.
“You’ve played all kinds of roles. Obviously, you’re not someone who wants to be typecast. So what’s the one role or type of role you haven’t played that you’d really like to sink your teeth into?”
Rebecca could’ve sworn she saw Dara’s eyes light up.
“As it happens, I’ve been giving this a lot of thought lately. I really love complicated characters, women who have depth and passion. There’s a rumor that casting is going to get underway soon for the screen adaptation of the Pulitzer Prize winner, On the Wings of Angels.”
Dave nodded, although Rebecca barely noticed. She was too shocked to discover that Dara Thomas was familiar with Constance Darrow’s work. What might’ve started as a crush for Rebecca was quickly ramping up to pure adoration.
“I’ve read the book,” Letterman said.
Dara looked surprised. “You have?”
“Well, yes. I’m not a complete dolt, you know. I do know how to read.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“Yes, yes.” Dave waved Dara off. “Anyway, you were saying?”
“The main character in the book is Celeste. She’s this layered woman who is non-religious and yet has an abiding faith in miracles, angels, and ascended masters.”
“And that appeals to you?” Dave asked.
Rebecca leaned forward in her seat, anxious to hear what Dara would say.
“I think it would be incredibly arrogant to think that we’re the most evolved beings in the universe, don’t you? There is plenty of evidence to suggest otherwise. So, even for a non-religious person, it makes sense that there’s something else out there affecting our fate. I’d love the challenge of bringing the nuance of that to life onscreen.”
If Dara said anything else, Rebecca didn’t hear it. Her ears were buzzing and she felt lightheaded. It didn’t make any sense. Or did it? How could Dara Thomas, Hollywood star, use exactly the same words that Constance had used in supporting Rebecca’s understanding of Celeste. Unless… No, it couldn’t be.
“Fair enough. I hope you get the part. Heck, I’d give you the part,” Dave was saying. “When we come back, we’re going to talk about Ms. Thomas’s most embarrassing on-set moment. You won’t want to miss this, folks. We’ll be back in a minute.”
The band started playing, indicating that they’d gone to a commercial break. Rebecca sat completely still, her eyes focused solely on the woman sitting in the guest chair as her mind continued to whirl.
“Rick called,” Carolyn said as Dara changed out of the dress and into a pair of low-slung jeans, a designer T-shirt, and boots.
“I bet he did. Let me guess, he wasn’t pleased that I overtly campaigned for the role of Celeste.”
“That would be an understatement. I believe his exact quote was, ‘What the fuck does she think she’s doing? That’s not done. Totally uncool. Now Colin and I have got to figure out how to walk that back. Fuck!’”
“My, wasn’t he colorful?” Dara emerged from behind the partition carrying the dress in a garment bag.
“I’ll take that.” Carolyn relieved Dara of the garment bag. “He might’ve been right. Has that occurred to you?”
Dara paused with her hand on the doorknob and looked back at Carolyn. Her expression was no longer glib. “Do you think he was?”
Carolyn knew that Dara didn’t want to be coddled. “Since you’re asking me, and you know I’ll always tell you the truth, I think it was risky.” She rushed on before Dara could interrupt. “Not necessarily for the same reasons that Rick is freaking out. On that front, I think if Hollywood’s top box office draw comes out and says she wants a role, then she gets the role.”
“But?”
“I’m more worried about Dara Thomas being too closely allied with Constance Darrow. Have you considered that someone might make the connection?”
“Why would they?”
“Well, for one thing, you know you’re going to inhabit that role in a way that nobody else can.”
“That’s the point. Don’t you see? I’m the only one who can truly understand Celeste. I’m the only one who knows with certainty how she feels, what drives her—”
“And if you were to slip up on set and say something if the director wanted you to take the character in a different direction?”
Dara opened and closed her mouth, apparently rethinking what she was about to say. “We’d talk through it. Surely you trust me to stay professional.”
“It isn’t a matter of professionalism. It’s a question of you getting carried away in the heat of the moment and saying something that tips your hand.”
“It won’t happen.”
Carolyn was less certain. “You’d better hope not.”
“Does that mean you think I’ll get the part?”
Carolyn shook her head in wonder. “How can you ask me that? Can you imagine the backlash now if they cast anyone else after you said publicly that you wanted the role?”
Dara smirked. “They’d be pretty stupid, huh?”
“Total idiots,” Carolyn agreed. “C’mon. Let’s blow this pop stand and go get dinner.”
They exited the dressing room and walked down the corridor toward the building’s stage door. “You think there’ll still be anyone out there waiting for autographs?” Dara asked.
“Is the Pope Catholic?”
“Good point.”
“I suppose you’re going to stop and sign.”
“Don’t I always?”
“Yes. Despite the objections of everyone who cares about you and your safety.”
“There’ll be security with me.” Dara pointed to the burly guy in uniform standing underneath the Exit sign twenty feet ahead of them. “And the limo is out there, right?”
“Yes. I confirmed with the driver that he’s idling at the curb.”
“So there’s nothing to worry about.”
“That’s what you always say,” Carolyn said.
“And I’m always right.”
“Except when you’re not.”
“Hey. I’m not going to be some arrogant snob. That’s not who I am.”
“I know. But I still worry. It’s not safe.”
They reached the security guard. Dara gave him her best, engaging smile and glimpsed his nametag. “You’ll keep me safe, Charles, right?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“See? I’m safe.”
“Just so you know, ma’am, there are a lot of folks out there waiting for you.”
Dara nodded. “That’s okay. I’m good with you staying nearby, but please don’t interfere unless you can see that I’m truly in trouble. Understood?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And you see this beautiful woman here?” Carolyn blushed and squirmed as Dara pointed at her. “Please keep the big bad wolves away from her too.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Dara threw her shoulders back and ran her fingers through her hair one last time. “Okay. Let’s do this.”
The security officer opened the door and a surge of humanity strained at the barricades that had been put up to keep them corralled in one area.
Carolyn saw Dara hesitate at the top step. She knew it wasn’t that her friend was afraid; it was more that, despite her success, Dara never understood what all the fuss was about.
As Dara descended the stairs and waved to the crowd, Carolyn moved to the side, trying her hardest to b
e inconspicuous. She watched as Dara made eye contact with each of her fans to let them know that they were seen. Then she signed whatever was thrust in front of her.
Almost everybody had a camera or a cell phone with which to take pictures. Never once did Dara’s smile falter. And then Dara came to the last person in line and she became very still. Too still, Carolyn thought. Something wasn’t right.
Carolyn maneuvered closer. When she did, she got a good look at the fan standing directly in front of Dara. Oh, my God. It was the professor. Carolyn recognized her from the lecture footage and her photo on the college’s website.
Carolyn didn’t know what to do. She could see that Dara’s posture was stiff and tense. Surely Dara wasn’t in any danger from Rebecca. Not any physical danger, anyway. Carolyn skirted around the barricade so that she could get close to Rebecca and hear what she was saying.
“I don’t need you to sign anything, Ms. Thomas. I just want to say, in my opinion, I can’t imagine anyone more qualified or appropriate to play the role of Celeste in On the Wings of Angels. It would be inspired casting, to be sure.”
Carolyn swallowed hard. Although she hadn’t said anything explicit yet, Rebecca left no doubt that she’d made the connection between Dara and Constance. This was a disaster.
To her credit, Carolyn noted, Dara didn’t retreat and she never stopped smiling. Anyone who didn’t know Dara the way she did might never figure out that anything was amiss. But Carolyn knew.
“I appreciate your support,” Dara said. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to go.”
“I didn’t…”
Rebecca’s shoulders slumped as Dara hustled away toward the limousine and Carolyn could see the confusion and despair in the professor’s eyes.
Carolyn felt sorry for her. She seemed so deflated. But Carolyn’s allegiance was to Dara, so she slipped away without a word and joined her friend, who by now was seated in the back of the limo.
Dara’s hands were shaking. “You know who that was, right? That was Rebecca.”
“I know.”
“Did you hear the conversation?”
“I did.”
“Of all the stupid, jackass, idiotic mistakes I could’ve made…”
Carolyn put an arm around her shoulder. “It’ll be okay.”
“You don’t know that.” Dara’s hands trembled and she clasped them together.
“Driver, get us out of here, will you?” Carolyn gave him the address for the restaurant where they had reservations for dinner.
She waited until they were safely away and then turned on the seat to face Dara. “Listen. She could’ve given you away and she didn’t. She was very circumspect. She made sure she was at the end of the line, and she kept her voice low so that no one around could hear.”
“She knows.”
“Yes. She does.” Carolyn didn’t see any sense in denying the obvious. “But—”
“But, nothing. No one was ever supposed to know.”
After a few minutes of silence, Dara said, “It’s my fault.”
“How so?”
“I allowed the correspondence to go on. I got sloppy.”
“You’re human and you were enjoying the interaction. There’s no crime in that.”
“I should’ve answered her once and been done with it.”
“You can’t wall yourself off from all of humanity.”
“I’d be better off if I did.”
“That’s bullshit and you know it.”
Dara sat back and looked out the window, a sure sign to Carolyn that they were done talking for now. She thought about how crestfallen Rebecca seemed. What a mess.
“What were you thinking? Did you think she’d just say, ‘Congratulations. You got me. Brava?’”
Rebecca pivoted and paced in the opposite direction. The hotel room wasn’t large, so it only took her six strides to reach the door before she had to turn around and head back toward the window.
“For a bright woman, that might’ve been the dumbest thing you’ve ever done.”
She paused and looked out at the city lights without really seeing them. She’d planned to have a nice dinner out somewhere, but after her encounter with Dara, she’d lost her appetite. In truth, she felt sick to her stomach.
The last letter from Constance had shown glimpses of the woman inside the author, and Rebecca somehow held out hope that she and Constance were establishing new parameters for their relationship. Now…
Rebecca sat on the bed and buried her head in her hands. Now, she’d likely never hear from Constance again. She so looked forward to their exchanges. After the fiasco with Cynthia, her life had been utterly empty. The letters from Constance gave her something to look forward to.
Maybe she could find a way to make things right. Surely, Constance… Dara, Rebecca corrected herself. Surely, Dara understood that she would never violate her confidence. Hadn’t she made that clear in the way she handled the revelation?
What makes you think so? It isn’t like you said, “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.” And did you see how quickly she took off? She couldn’t get away from you fast enough.
Rebecca shook her head in dismay. She knew she’d crossed a line, an almost tangible one. If she had it to do over again, she knew she wouldn’t have said a word. She would have said hello, told Dara how much she admired her without explaining why, and they could’ve gone their separate ways with Dara thinking her secret was safe and Rebecca maintaining her pen pal status with Constance.
Perhaps, in time, Dara would’ve come clean and revealed the secret on her own. And maybe pigs really can fly.
Rebecca flopped back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. The prospect of staying in New York now seemed so much less appealing. On the other hand, a good night’s sleep and a Broadway show tomorrow might lift her mood. She checked her watch—11:56 p.m. As if on cue, she yawned. And then her eyes popped open wide. Letterman was on and his monologue was probably almost over.
Could she really bring herself to watch? You’d pass up a chance to see Dara up close again? Who are you kidding? She laughed, mirthlessly, scooted up to sit against the headboard, and grabbed the remote.
After a couple of commercials, Dave introduced Dara. With the advantage of the camera close-up, Rebecca could see that the dress matched Dara’s eyes. Her breath caught as she saw an image of those eyes, looking directly at her. A sight you’ll never see again.
Although she looked amazing on television, Rebecca thought Dara was far more attractive in person. And when Letterman began staring at her, Rebecca could have sworn she saw the bright smile slip a fraction. Rebecca wondered if she was reading too much into it. She didn’t think so.
How wearing must it be to be Dara Thomas, movie star! Rebecca couldn’t begin to imagine. Her mind wandered to the research she’d done on Constance. “Oh, my God. No wonder it was so hard to find out anything about her.”
Finally, belatedly, the pieces fell into place. What would Rebecca do if everyone objectified her and nobody took the time to realize that she was a complete person, with an outstanding mind?
“I’d find an outlet where I could be taken seriously and I’d guard it with my life.”
If Rebecca felt badly before, now she was beside herself. The last thing in the world she wanted to do was cause Constance any anguish. Somehow, some way, she had to make this right.
CHAPTER TEN
Dara sat in the dark, fully dressed, in Carolyn’s guest room. She declined Carolyn’s invitation to watch her Letterman appearance. All she could see was Rebecca and all she could think about was that her jealously guarded privacy was gone. If she was going to be honest, that was the correct order of things.
Dara frowned. About the former, she didn’t want to care. But in the interest of more candidness, she had to admit that she really did. How did that happen?
Rebecca was even more attractive in person than her picture on the college website or in the video of her teaching. Her eyes were kind and
luminescent. Luminescent? What’s that about?
Dara sighed. Well, it was true. Not only that, but her energy was so open, so honest, and so sincere.
Carolyn was right—Rebecca didn’t say anything overt about Constance. She didn’t even mention the author at all. Yet, Dara reminded herself. She hadn’t said anything, yet. Wasn’t it only a matter of time before Rebecca leaked word to the press or sold the story along with copies of their correspondence, or…
“Hey,” Carolyn said, peeking her head inside the room. “Can I come in?”
Dara motioned her acquiescence. There was no sense pushing Carolyn away. She’d just keep coming back until Dara agreed to talk about it.
Carolyn walked in, turned on the light, and sat on the side of the bed. “I recorded the show in case you change your mind about watching it. This chick, Dara Thomas, she wowed Letterman. Had him eating out of the palm of her hand. It was really something to see.”
“Ha, ha.”
“You really did do a great job. You were engaging, witty, and charming.”
“Woo. The big three.”
“Don’t pooh-pooh it, Dara. This was an important moment for you and you nailed it.” Carolyn paused. “Except when Dave started off by mooning over you. I thought you might punch his lights out.”
“Was it that obvious?”
“Not to anybody but me. But then, I know how you feel about being treated like a piece of chocolate the day after Lent.”
Dara snorted. “You have such a way with a phrase.”
“Am I right, or am I right?”
“Of course you’re right, and you know it.”
“It’s why you were so adamant that Constance not be connected to you. You wanted her to stand on her own merits.”
Dara narrowed her eyes. “You did not just use the Letterman thing as a bridge into a discussion about Constance, did you?”
Carolyn winked. “I did.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously. You created Constance because you wanted a place to be your whole self. You wanted to be the person people admired for your intelligence and your depth instead of your cup size.”
“My cup size is average,” Dara pointed out.
