Obsessed (9781617732393)

by Gibson, Jo

  And then there was the problem of Angela. Everyone at Covers was wild about her, and they all thought it was only a matter of time before she’d be discovered. Angela danced, and sang. She played several musical instruments, including the guitar, and she’d done a couple of comedy sketches with Michael that had left the audience in convulsions. Everyone thought that Angela was an incredible talent, and Carla agreed. But Angela seemed to think that being Michael’s old neighbor entitled her to monopolize all his time.

  Michael and Angela had been practically inseparable, and he seemed to enjoy playing tour guide. They’d gone to a tourist attraction every day. Even though Michael always invited her to come along, Carla couldn’t help but feel excluded. When Michael and Angela weren’t re-living their childhood escapades, they were talking about how they were going to set the show biz world on fire after they graduated from U.C.L.A.

  Carla had hoped that one of Mr. Calloway’s contacts would discover Angela, and whisk her away to a new career far away from Covers. But most of Mr. Calloway’s high-powered friends were on vacation, and no one had come to see Angela perform. She was a big hit with the regular Covers audience, but she hadn’t received one single offer.

  “We’re here.” Angela pulled into Don’s parking lot, and shut off the engine of her bright blue convertible. Carla sighed as she got out of the back seat, and followed Angela and Michael to the side entrance. She’d suggested having lunch at Don’s, and she had an ulterior motive. Carla knew that the studio people hung out at Don’s, and she was hoping she’d run into a friend of Mr. Calloway’s who knew her from Covers. She had several guest tickets in her purse, and Mr. Calloway had given her permission to pass them out. Carla knew that everyone at Covers was absolutely right. Angela was an undiscovered talent, and Carla was determined to find someone to discover her.

  Michael led the way to a vacant table in the center of the patio, and pulled out a chair for Angela. “Well . . . what do you think?”

  “This place is wonderful!” Angela gave Carla a friendly smile. “It looks like somebody snatched it up from a lake shore in Wisconsin, and plunked it down right here.”

  Carla nodded, but her mind wasn’t on what Angela was saying. She was too busy looking for studio executives. She spotted several men wearing Universal Studio tee-shirts, but they looked like grips or carpenters. And there were two older guys, dressed in three-piece suits, who had to be local businessmen. Studio executives didn’t wear suits. They wore expensive, but casual clothes. Three-piece suits were reserved for accountants, or money men from New York.

  There were two women at a table in the back, who looked much more promising. Although they were both older women, they were dressed in very trendy clothes, and their makeup and their hair were perfect. Executive assistants? Studio secretaries? Carla just wasn’t sure. But then, one of the women laughed, and Carla recognized her laugh. She’d heard it at Covers, less than a year ago.

  “Carla? What are you going to have?”

  Michael smiled at her across the table, and Carla realized that the waitress was there to take their order. “Sorry. I’ll have a single cheeseburger and an order of onion rings.”

  “To drink?” Michael prompted her.

  “An iced tea.”

  “Do you know those two ladies over there?” Angela smiled. “You were staring at them so hard, you didn’t even hear the waitress.”

  Carla nodded. “I think I know them, but I can’t quite place them. The one with the short dark hair was at Covers last year. I recognized her laugh. I seated her at a two-person table in the front.”

  “Are you sure it was a table in the front?” Michael raised his eyebrows. He knew that the front tables were reserved for Mr. Calloway’s contacts.

  “I’m positive. But I can’t remember who was with her.”

  “I’m sure it’ll come to you.” Angela smiled. “Michael says you have an incredible memory. And speaking about memories... remember the time we rode our bicycles all the way out to the airport?”

  The moment Angela began to re-live old times with Michael, Carla tuned her out and concentrated on the dark-haired lady. When she had come to Covers, she’d been wearing a forest green designer sweatsuit. Her hair had been longer then, and she’d pulled it back with a green leather barrette. The whole impression had been one of understated elegance, and Carla had admired her outfit. She’d also admired the man who’d been with her. Tall, with silver hair worn a little long around the ears, chinos and a soft pink cotton shirt. She remembered thinking that a man had to be very sure of himself to wear a pink shirt. But Mr. Calloway had told her the pink shirt was the man’s trademark. He always wore them because his name was . . .

  Just then the man appeared, and Carla drew in her breath sharply as he walked across the patio to join the two women. It was Nate Rose and he was one of the biggest casting agents at Mirage Studios! Would he remember her? She had to go over to try to jog his memory. And then she had to invite him to Covers.

  Carla took the guest tickets out of her purse, and stood up before she lost her nerve. There was no need to ask Michael and Angela to excuse her. They were so busy talking, they hadn’t even noticed she’d left her chair.

  “Excuse me, Mr. Rose.” Carla arrived at the table, breathless. Her hands were trembling slightly, and she hoped she looked more composed than she felt. “I’m Carla Fields, Mr. Calloway’s assistant manager at Covers.”

  Nate Rose looked up, and frowned slightly. And then he smiled. “Oh, yes. I remember you, but you look a lot different. I seem to recall that you wore glasses.”

  “I did. I have contact lenses now.” Mr. Rose was staring at her so hard, Carla felt like giggling. It was a wonder he recognized her at all. She knew she looked completely different, now that Mr. Robinson’s makeup people at the studio had shown her how to make the most of herself. Her new wardrobe helped, too, and she was wearing one of her most stylish outfits, loose cotton trousers in a lovely shade of cobalt blue, a matching short-sleeved cotton sweater, and a cobalt blue blazer with wild geometric patterns on the lapels.

  “So how’s Stan doing?” Nate Rose gave her a friendly smile. “I’ve been on vacation, and I haven’t heard from him in awhile.”

  Carla smiled back. “Oh, he’s fine. As a matter of fact, he tried to get in touch with you earlier in the week. He wanted to give you tickets to see one of our new talents.”

  “Stan’s never brought me in for anything less than star material.” Nate Rose looked thoughtful as he turned to the brunette with the short hair. “Do you remember the night we saw Deana Burroughs?”

  The brunette nodded. “I’ll never forget it. You were about to sign her when we got the call that she’d been murdered. Such a pity.”

  “Yes, it was.” Carla put on an appropriately solemn expression. Deana had been a bitch, but she had been talented. “This new singer’s even better, Mr. Rose. She dances and does comedy, too. Her name’s Angela Price, and she’s sitting right over there at the table with Michael Warden.”

  The brunette glanced over at the table, and smiled. “Michael Warden . . . You tried to sign him last year, but he wanted to finish school.”

  “Right.” Nate Rose nodded, and turned to Carla. “Do you think he’d be interested now?”

  “I’m not sure. You’d have to ask. Michael just finished doing a cameo in Ralph Robinson’s new movie.”

  “That’s a very good start!” The brunette looked impressed. “Most of Ralph’s discoveries go on to bigger and better things.”

  Carla tried not to look disappointed. Here she was, trying to talk up Angela, and they seemed to be much more interested in Michael. She had to do something to get the conversation back on track.

  “I’ll make sure you get a chance to talk to Michael when you come to see Angela perform.” Carla steered the conversation right back to her objective. “I think you’ll be very impressed with her.”

  “They’d make a hell of a team.” Nate Rose began to smile. “She looks like
she might have Madonna charisma, and she’s prettier than Mariah Carey. When am I free, Lottie?”

  The brunette reached into her purse and took out a pocket organizer. She flipped through a few pages until she found one with less writing than the rest. “Monday night? You’ve got early dinner with Maggie, but then you’re free.”

  “Monday would be perfect.” Carla gave her a big smile, and then she turned back to Nate Rose. “How many tickets would you like?”

  “Two. Just give them to Lottie. She keeps track of things like that. Nice seeing you . . . uh . . .”

  “Carla.” Carla smiled.

  “Carla.” Nate Rose smiled back. “Don’t worry, sweetie . . . I won’t forget your name a second time. Tell those two to work up something together, okay?”

  Carla nodded and headed back out through the entrance, to the ladies room at the side of the building. She was blinking back tears, and she didn’t think she could face Michael and Angela right now. She was just too disappointed. Her plans had backfired in the worst way possible. She’d done such a good job of selling Angela to Nate Rose, he wanted to team her up with Michael and take both of them away!

  “I really messed up this time!” Carla stared down at the calendar blotter on her desk, and blinked back tears. “Nate Rose wants both of them!”

  Linda looked properly sympathetic. “I know, but it’s not the end of the world. Maybe Michael will refuse to sign.”

  “Oh, sure.” Carla’s tone was sarcastic. “Nate Rose is just the biggest casting director in the biz.”

  “But he tried to sign Michael once before, and Michael refused. He’s always said that he wanted to finish college before he started in on his career.”

  Carla gave a bitter laugh. “Angela’s his oldest friend. She’ll talk him into it. She’ll probably say that she can’t make it alone. And Michael will do it. He’s crazy about her!”

  “That’s true.” Linda sighed as she nodded. “But there’s no sense in borrowing trouble. Maybe their duet will be awful. That happens, sometimes, when two good soloists get together. You’ve never heard them try to sing together.”

  Carla nodded, but she wasn’t encouraged. She’d heard Michael sing duets with most of the female singers at Covers, Linda included. He always managed to inspire his singing partners, and he usually made them sound better than they actually were. Angela was terrific on her own, and Carla had no doubt that her duet with Michael would be nothing short of fantastic.

  “Are you sorry you told Michael to sing a duet with Angela?” Linda probed gently.

  “No. I had to tell them. It wouldn’t have been fair, if I hadn’t. And they would have found out, anyway. Nate Rose would have asked them why they didn’t do it.”

  “True.” Linda nodded. “Well . . . I guess you can always pray that Michael comes down with a cold so he can’t sing. Barring death, that’s about the only thing that’ll keep him off the stage.”

  Carla sat and stared out the window long after Linda had left the office. Linda’s words came back to her, and she gave a bitter smile. Only death would keep Michael from singing that duet with Angela, but she certainly didn’t want Michael to die! Angela, however, was another matter. Carla did her best to resist the turn her thoughts were taking, but she couldn’t help giving an ironic grin. Angela was trying to pick up on Michael. Carla was sure of it. And if Angela became Michael’s new girlfriend, the Cupid Killer could solve all of her problems in one fell swoop.

  Eighteen

  It was ten o’clock on Sunday night, and Angela wished that Carla would get tired of hearing them practice and go home. Of course that wouldn’t happen. Angela knew that Carla was in love with Michael. What other reason could she have for tagging along? Angela was getting very tired of having to be polite to Carla, when she really wanted to tell her to buzz off.

  Angela thought about saying it now, and a smile played over her lips. But if she did, Michael would look hurt, and he’d hurry off to comfort Carla. Angela couldn’t for the life of her understand why Michael seemed so concerned about Carla. Carla was pretty, in an ordinary sort of way, but she wasn’t as beautiful as Angela was. And she certainly didn’t have Angela’s talents. Carla was the strangest competition that Angela had ever had, but she had worked out a plan. It would take a while, but Angela intended to show Michael exactly how much nicer life would be with her. She had looks, talent, and money. What more could a guy like Michael want?

  Angela joined Michael on the chorus and she gave it her all. When the last note had faded away, she turned toward the audience and smiled at Carla. “What do you think, Carla? Was that better?”

  “I thought it was good before.” Carla smiled back. “You two sing very well together.”

  “Thank you. The fact that you think so, is a real compli . . .” Angela stopped, without finishing her sentence, and began to cough. It was deliberate.

  “Are you all right?”

  Michael looked concerned, but Angela just shrugged. “It’s really nothing serious. I just strained my voice a little on that last note.”

  Now Michael looked positively panic-stricken, and Angela had all she could do to keep from laughing. She coughed again, just to see if Michael’s face could get any paler. It did.

  “Can I get you some water or something?” Michael sounded anxious.

  “No thanks.” Angela shook her head. “I’ve had this before and water only makes it worse. The only thing that really seems to help is cranberry juice.”

  Michael jumped up from his stool. “I’ll get you some, but you’ll have to come along. We still haven’t caught that intruder, and I don’t want to leave you girls here alone.”

  “Well . . . okay.” Angela agreed reluctantly. “But I’d really rather stay here and practice my guitar. “That intro for my second song needs work.”

  “No problem. I’ll go.” Carla stood up. “Would you like plain cranberry, or one of those combinations like Cran-apple or Cran-raspberry?”

  Angela thought fast. The combinations would be harder to find, especially if she made up one that didn’t exist. Carla would drive around, looking for it, and she’d have plenty of time, alone with Michael.

  “Cran-lemon worked the best.” Angela gave a sweet little smile. “But don’t go out of your way. Practically anything’ll do just fine.”

  “Cran-lemon? I’ve never seen that one before.” Carla looked mystified.

  “Oh, I’m sure they’ve got it. It was in practically every store when I lived in Washington.”

  “Okay.” Carla headed for the door.

  “Are you sure you’ll be all right, alone?” Michael called out after her. “We could all go.”

  “I’ll be fine. There’s a Von’s Market about ten blocks away. I’ll be back just as soon as I can.”

  Angela waited until the door had closed behind Carla, and then she turned to Michael with a smile. “She’s just wonderful, Michael. I can see why you’re in love with her.”

  “In love?” Michael looked uncomfortable. “I like Carla a lot, but I’m not sure I’m in love with her.”

  “Of course you are! If you weren’t in love with Carla, you would have kissed me by now. After all, I want you to.” Michael looked even more uncomfortable, but Angela went right on with her plan. “How about one kiss for your best pal?”

  Before Michael could say yes or no, Angela moved in. She wound her arms around his neck, and stood on tiptoe to kiss him. At first Michael was hesitant, but the heat of Angela’s lips began to thaw his resolve, and Angela almost laughed out loud as he began to respond to her.

  “Angela . . .” Michael looked uncertain as Angela pulled him toward the couch at the back of the stage. “I don’t think we’d better . . .”

  Angela silenced him with another kiss, and this time she let her tongue slide over his lips in a very sensual way. Everything began to happen very fast then, everything that Angela had wanted to happen, and exactly according to her plan.

  Carla gave an exasperated sigh as she h
eaded back toward the entrance. She couldn’t believe she’d walked off without her purse. It was a good thing she realized it before she’d gone more than a couple of blocks, but she felt like an idiot for forgetting it in the first place.

  The door was unlocked, and that was another thing she’d forgotten to do. Carla sighed again, as she turned the knob. She was obviously rattled and she knew the reason why. Just as she’d feared, Angela and Michael had sounded wonderful together. And that meant that Nate Rose was bound to sign both of them.

  Carla hesitated, her hand on the doorknob. What if she came back and said she couldn’t find any Cran-lemon juice? Without it, Angela’s voice might be strained tomorrow night and she wouldn’t be able to audition for Nate Rose.

  No, she couldn’t do that. Carla knew she’d feel terribly guilty if she told an outright lie. She’d have to get the juice, and she’d have to give it to Angela. She’d promised she would, and she’d never broken a promise in her life.

  Carla pushed open the door and stepped inside. And then she realized that there was no music. Angela’s guitar was propped up against a stool, and Michael’s was in its case. They must have stopped practicing. The stage was deserted, except for . . .

  Carla’s eyes were drawn to the back of the stage, where Marc had stored the old couch they used in one of the comedy routines. As she stared in terrible fascination, Angela’s blouse slithered over the back, and fell in a heap on the floor. Her bra came next. And then her wrap-around skirt. Carla didn’t wait for the next item of clothing to fall. She just turned on her heel and ran through the door, heading for her car.