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All That Lies Within

Page 16

by Lynn Ames


  “I just need you to listen.”

  “I have no intention of talking to that woman, ever again. Am I clear?”

  “You’re perfectly clear,” a quiet, quavering voice said from the open doorway of the condo. “I’ll just be going now. You have a lovely place, Carolyn.”

  Both Dara and Carolyn stared open-mouthed as Rebecca ran past them down the driveway and out into the empty street.

  Shit. Dara ran after her. “Wait. Rebecca, wait.” She was surprised that she wasn’t gaining any ground. It was obvious Rebecca was in shape. “Please.” Dara picked up the pace, her longer strides eating up the pavement. Finally, she caught up to Rebecca on the next block.

  Tears streamed down Rebecca’s face, and Dara’s heart broke a little.

  “Please. Don’t cry. Please don’t cry. I’m sorry.” Without thinking, Dara pulled Rebecca to her and held her, rocking her from side to side. “I’m sorry.” Rebecca shook in her arms, and all Dara wanted was to make it better.

  “I never should have let them fly me out here. Never. I knew better. I knew it was a mistake. I never intended to bother you, ever again. I wanted you to have your privacy. I wanted you to feel secure and to know that Constance’s secret would always, always be safe.” Rebecca took in a shuddering breath. “I’m the one who’s sorry.”

  “Shh. It’s okay.” Dara tried to make sense of what Rebecca was saying, but it made no sense at all to her. As Rebecca’s sobs subsided, Dara used two fingers to lift her chin. Under the streetlight, she could see, beyond the pools of tears, that Rebecca’s eyes held much pain and grief.

  Rebecca sniffed and tried to catch her breath. “I’m so, so sorry. You’ll never see me again, I assure you.”

  She started to pull away, out of Dara’s arms, and Dara was shocked to realize that she didn’t want to let go. “Hang on a second.” She loosened her grip just enough to give Rebecca a little space. “What do you mean, you should never have let them fly you out here? Who flew you out?”

  Instead of answering, Rebecca sobbed again and shook her head. “It doesn’t matter now. I’ll be on a plane first thing in the morning and we can pretend this never happened. Really, it’s like a dream anyway. More like a nightmare, really.”

  “Rebecca?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Please tell me, who flew you out here?”

  “The studio.”

  Dara’s eyes opened wide. “The studio, as in who, specifically?”

  Rebecca cleared her throat. “Randolph Curtain.” Her voice was hoarse from crying.

  Goose bumps popped up on Dara’s arms. “Randolph Curtain, the producer of my movie, flew you out here?”

  Rebecca nodded.

  “Why?”

  Rebecca’s laugh was hollow. “He couldn’t get Constance Darrow. So he, his partner, and the director decided I was the next best thing.”

  Dara tried to put the pieces together, but they just wouldn’t fit. “What am I missing?”

  Rebecca’s body finally relaxed, but Dara still didn’t relinquish her hold.

  “The really short version is that they determined that the script sucked. They wanted the material to be closer to the original intent of the author. Since the author is a recluse”—Rebecca chuckled mirthlessly—“they wanted to hire what they called ‘the top Constance Darrow scholar’ to help doctor the script.”

  The light finally dawned for Dara. “Oh, my God. They wanted to bring you in to re-interpret the scenes as Constance would’ve done it.”

  “Yes. Only I told them I needed time to consider the offer. Without telling them why, of course.” Rebecca wiped an errant tear away. “I didn’t know how you would feel about it. I wasn’t going to take it if you objected. Now I know you object. So I’ll give them their answer tonight and be on my way.”

  This time Rebecca did pull away, much to Dara’s dismay. “As I said. This was a bad idea. I didn’t know what they wanted from me until I met with them this afternoon. If I’d known, I probably never would’ve made the trip and I could’ve spared all of us this drama. I’m very sorry.” Again, Rebecca turned to go.

  “Wait!” Dara moved in front of her and put her hands on Rebecca’s shoulders. “Where are you going?”

  “Back to my hotel, I guess.”

  “How are you planning to get there? Walk? It’s not safe.”

  “I have a cell phone. I’ll call a cab.”

  “Please don’t. I want you to stay.” With a start, Dara realized she really meant it. “Let’s go inside and have a nice dinner, and we can talk about all this, okay? We’ll sort it out.”

  “It’s not what you want, Dara. That’s abundantly clear. What’s the point? You don’t need to be polite or nice to me. I’m an interloper, an intruder in your life. And I never wanted to be that.” Rebecca hung her head.

  Dara couldn’t stand to see her so sad. She looped her arm through Rebecca’s. “Please. Let’s start over and try this again, okay? I was out of my mind and I was an ass. For the record, I’m not usually an ass. I just seem to be one around you.”

  “I tend to bring that out in people. It’s a gift.”

  Dara laughed delightedly. She’d seen glints of humor in Rebecca’s letters, but being a party to it in person was so much better.

  Carolyn was inside sitting at the breakfast bar when they got back to the condo. She jumped to her feet, a look of pure surprise on her face.

  Dara reluctantly disentangled her arm from Rebecca’s and moved an appropriate distance away. “Car, please tell Rebecca I’m not always a class ‘A’ jerk.”

  “Nuh-uh. You’re going to have to prove that one to her all on your own.” Carolyn cocked her head. “Everything okay, you two?”

  “I’ve used my considerable charm to convince Rebecca to stay for dinner and talk through what’s going on.” Dara glanced sideways at Rebecca. “I have convinced you, right?”

  “I guess that depends.”

  “On?”

  “What’s for dinner?”

  Dara and Carolyn both laughed. “A woman after my own heart. Car? What’s for dinner?”

  “Lasagna, salad, and garlic bread.”

  Dara and Rebecca looked at each other. Dara said, “What do you say?”

  “I guess I could stomach that.” She winked, and immediately Dara felt lighter.

  “Excellent. What can we do to help?”

  “Offer your own services,” Rebecca said. “I’m sure I look like I’ve been hit by a freight train. If one of you would point me toward the ladies’ room, I’ll try to see if I can create a miracle to repair the damage.”

  Dara wanted to tell Rebecca that she looked just fine. Even with a tear-streaked face. In fact, she looked stunning. Instead, she said, “Second door on the left down that hallway.”

  When she was gone, Dara turned toward Carolyn, who was standing next to the oven. “You don’t have to say it. I’m a total jackass. I know.”

  “What makes you think that’s what I was going to say?”

  “Oh, you weren’t?”

  “No. I definitely was. Hear her out, please. I know you don’t want to, but—”

  “Actually, I do.” Dara said, surprising herself.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  “What made you want to become a professor?” Carolyn asked, as she pulled the garlic bread out of the oven. She felt horrible for Rebecca, and it was all her fault. She should’ve handled the whole situation a lot differently. If she’d told Dara what the plan was for the evening back at Dara’s place, Rebecca never would’ve been subjected to the ugliness outside the condo.

  Now they had to find a way to get past the awkwardness. Carolyn sent up a silent prayer that Rebecca wouldn’t retreat into her shell—that she would show Dara some of her personality. As for Dara, Carolyn couldn’t remember a time when she’d ever seen her friend act like such a complete jerk. She hoped that Dara wouldn’t put up a wall to shut Rebecca out. Maybe Dara would see that with Rebecca, it was safe to be herself.

 
“Growing up, I had a hard time. I was the odd kid, the one who never quite fit in. I was heavyset and shy, my self-esteem was non-existent, and I got bullied. A lot. So I disappeared into books, where I could be whoever and whatever I wanted to be. I could inhabit someone else’s world and forget the bullies and the popular kids who never gave me the time of day unless they wanted me to do their homework for them.”

  Carolyn chanced a glance at Dara, who was sitting at the breakfast bar, watching Rebecca intently. She hoped Dara was recognizing some of the parallels in her own life.

  “By the time I reached college, I was better read than some of my professors. So, I would sit in the lectures and think about how much better I would teach the subject, whatever it was, than the professor who was giving the lecture. I was constantly analyzing the literature and finding nuances I was certain the professors had missed in their reading.” Rebecca smirked. “I was insufferable. I often wonder if the kids in my classes are doing the same thing.” She shrugged. “Probably. Anyway, I started to gain a lot more confidence in myself. I got in shape and lost the weight. I made friends with other kids who were like me. And I found my purpose in life, which was to educate young minds and encourage them to think for themselves and to dream.”

  “Dinner is served, ladies. If you’ll retreat to the main dining room,” Carolyn said.

  Dara picked up the basket of bread and Rebecca grabbed the salad bowl. Carolyn watched from behind as the two women walked side by side. Maybe this would be okay, after all.

  When they were seated, Rebecca addressed Dara. “I imagine you had the exact opposite problem.”

  “What do you mean?” Dara visibly stiffened.

  “Um,” Rebecca blushed, “where people only saw me for my brain and completely dismissed my looks, I suspect most people didn’t recognize your obvious intelligence and depth of character. They probably never got past the surface. Which would’ve been their great loss. You’re one of the most insightful, sensitive, caring, passionate people I know. That’s why you created Constance, isn’t it? A place where you could allow yourself to be all that you are and be accepted for it?”

  Carolyn held her breath, waiting to see how Dara would react. To her great relief, Dara’s smile lit up the room. A real smile—not one for the cameras.

  Dara pointed her fork at Rebecca. “You’re too sharp for your own good, you know that? If you ever decide to give up your teaching job, you could make a lot of money as a counselor.”

  Rebecca’s laugh was rich. “Oh, Heavens no. I’d end up being more of a head case than my clients.” She fixed Dara with a serious look. “Before anything else happens here, there’s something I want to say.” She cleared her throat. “I want… No, I need you to know—” Her voice broke and she took a second to compose herself.

  Rebecca directed a questioning glance in Carolyn’s direction and Carolyn started to panic. If Rebecca revealed that they had met in New York… Ever so minutely, Carolyn shook her head.

  In response, Rebecca returned her attention to Dara. “I would never, ever violate your privacy or share what I know about you and Constance. Never. That goes against everything I believe in.” Her voice shook with emotion and her eyes welled with tears. “I can’t even begin to imagine what it costs for you to be…well, you. Constance is your haven. I would never, ever… That’s a lot of ‘never, evers,’ isn’t it?” Rebecca joked to lessen the tension. “What the hell, what’s one more? I would never, ever take that away from you. Whatever else you think of me, I hope you believe that.”

  Carolyn watched as, to her great surprise, Dara’s eyes filled with tears, as well.

  “I…” Dara choked up and shook her head. She rose and walked around the table to where Rebecca was sitting and lifted her up into a hug. “I believe you. Thank you for understanding and sharing that. I’m pretty sure I’ve never known anyone like you.” She kissed Rebecca’s cheek, and held her for another moment longer.

  Carolyn wanted to cry, herself. Instead, she rested her chin on the backs of her hands and heaved a happy sigh. “Well, now that we’ve got that cleared up, it’s a perfect time to segue into the issue at hand.”

  Dara released Rebecca and returned to her seat. Maybe Carolyn was imagining things, but she could’ve sworn she saw reluctance when her friend relinquished the body contact.

  “The way I see it, we’ve got several factors that we should weigh.” Carolyn pointed at Dara. “You’re miserable with the way the shooting is going and you’re beside yourself that you risk too much if you point out all of the problems with the script.”

  “Too true on all counts there. Cal Whiting isn’t a bad guy. He’s written some really nice original screenplays. But this is his first adaptation. And, frankly, it sucks.”

  “I only read a few pages of the script,” Rebecca chimed in, “but already I can see that he has no understanding of the nuance of the story. He doesn’t ‘get’ Celeste at all. What he’s written is some female character with angst and a chip on her shoulder. That’s not Celeste. I saw the dailies from yesterday. All I could think was how much it must be killing you inside to play her that way.”

  For a second, Carolyn thought Dara would come around the table and kiss Rebecca again. Joy bubbled up inside her.

  “You have no idea,” Dara said. “I thought I would lose my mind.”

  “Which brings me to the next point,” Carolyn interjected. “If we allow the movie to go forward as is…”

  “I’ll regret selling the rights to it for the rest of my life.”

  “There is that. Worse, if it bombs at the box office and with the critics after you campaigned publicly to get the part, it could also be a career-wrecker.”

  “They already told me they’ll pull the plug if it doesn’t get any better,” Rebecca pointed out. “The way they were discussing it today, if I don’t come on board, they’re going to scuttle the film.”

  Dara groaned. “What a cluster.”

  “I’m sorry, Dar. Moral of the story, next time I negotiate one of these things for Constance, I write in a clause that the author gets final say over the screenwriter and the script.”

  “Good luck with that,” Dara said.

  “Listen,” Rebecca said. “None of us wants this project to fail. I want the movie to be everything Constance wants it to be.” She chuckled. “Why am I talking about Constance like she’s not you? Yikes. And you’re a phenomenal actress, which sounds like kissing up, but I promise you it’s not. Celeste is an amazing vehicle for your talents…if she’s properly realized.”

  Carolyn smiled behind her hand. Rebecca truly was adorable, and she could see that Dara was thoroughly charmed.

  “Anyway, here’s the bottom line. Let me say upfront that I know nothing about script doctoring. Zilch. Zero.” She looked at Carolyn. “That book you saw me madly reading on my Kindle in the hotel lobby was a ‘how-to’ book on the subject. That was right after the interview I watched of a panel of screenwriters talking about the script revision process during the actual shooting of a film.”

  Carolyn laughed. “Good research skills, Professor.”

  “Thanks. So, as I was saying, I know nothing about script-doctoring. Still, the powers that be seem to think I’m the answer here. Since it appears my coming on board is the only way they’ll move forward, and since we all want the movie to be everything it should be, I could agree to take the assignment. Then, I can go over the script with you”—Rebecca pointed at Dara—“every night so that I’ll know what you want the scene to be for the next day. They’ll think I’m a genius, Constance will get to re-imagine the script the way it should’ve been written, Dara gets to play Celeste the way only she can, and no one except for the three of us will ever be any the wiser.”

  Carolyn raised an eyebrow. Really, it was a masterful solution. In more ways than either Rebecca or Dara likely imagined. Carolyn pictured the two of them, working side by side every night after a day on the set, and her heart skipped happily. Yes, this might be just the t
hing, for both of them. “What do you think, Dar?

  Dara drummed her fingers on the table. After a pregnant pause, she broke out in a grin that nearly split her face in half. “It’s perfect.”

  “There’s only one problem,” Rebecca said.

  “What’s that?” Carolyn asked.

  “I’m in the middle of the semester. I’d need to take an immediate leave of absence, which would really leave the department in a bind. It’s not fair to the students. Besides, I don’t even know if the college would release me to do this.”

  “Are you kidding me? Think of the PR for the school,” Carolyn said. “This would be great for their reputation. What other school has an American literature scholar consulting on the screen adaptation of a Pulitzer Prize-winning novel?”

  “I agree with you. I’m just not sure they’ll see it that way.” Rebecca frowned.

  After a moment’s silence, Dara chimed in. “In this day and age of technology, how is it possible that we can’t solve this?” She leaned forward animatedly. “What if you continued to teach the course, except you did it via satellite or Skype? You could give the lectures and interact with the students and they could send you their assignments electronically.”

  Rebecca’s eyes lit up. “It would give the school creds for being progressive and innovative. But then there’s the cost factor.”

  “Forget about that. The studio can foot the bill. Car, can you take a look at whatever deal they’re offering Rebecca and write all this in as a stipulation?”

  Carolyn nodded. “It would be my distinct pleasure.”

  “Wait,” Rebecca said. “I don’t even know your rates. I’m sure I can’t afford you.”

  “I’ll pick up the tab,” Dara said.

  “No need.” Carolyn wanted to jump up and pump her fist in the air. “This one’s on the house.”

  “I can’t let you do that.”

  “It’s settled. Don’t argue with me, either one of you. Dara, you’re in charge of clearing the table and doing the dishes. Rebecca and I have work to do.”

 

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