Dangerous Bedfellows

by Debra Lee

  He’s going to love it. He’s probably already making a list of actors perfect for the lead roles. He could be on the phone with their agents already. The faster her mind raced the faster she dried herself.

  She grabbed her terry cloth robe from the wall hook and slipped it on. Her hair still wrapped in a towel when she left her room and hurried back down to the living room. Desmond sat in his favorite straight back chair next to the wall of books. Jackie had witnessed him spend hours in that chair while he devoured the contents of a book, sometimes a script or he’d just kick back and enjoy his pipe and a glass of bourbon after a hectic day at the studio.

  Right now he continued to study the contents of the script she had brought home.

  He wasn’t giving a single clue to what he was thinking when she continually glanced over at him from where she’d taken root on the sofa. She couldn’t take the suspense more than a few minutes. “Well, what do you think?”

  “I’ll let you know when I’ve finished,” Desmond said without looking away from the page. But he already knew he wasn’t going to do the picture. But for sake of argument he’d finish reading.

  “How long will that be?”

  “Soon. Very soon.”

  Jackie walked to the shelves of books and began searching for a new title she hadn’t read. Just as she reached for one she heard Desmond sigh as he closed the notebook on his lap. “Well?” she hit him with a second later.

  He finally gave her his full attention.

  She studied his features. “Why don’t you like it?”

  “I did like it. Robert Sheldon has one hell of an imagination.”

  Jackie’s sunken spirit soared. “Then you’ll produce it?”

  “I can’t.”

  Desmond stood, dropping the script on the chair and headed for the bar. He poured a shot of bourbon and drank it down before his eyes met hers. “It’s too big a risk.”

  “Aren’t you taking a risk every time you make a movie?”

  “Usually. But we aren’t normally risking the millions we’re talking with this script. Even if it did turn out to be a box office hit, we’d never recoup our expenses.”

  “Why don’t you sleep on it before giving your final decision?”

  “I’m sorry, Jackie.”

  Jackie accepted his decision. But she never stopped believing Desmond made a mistake letting Robert Sheldon’s screenplay get away.

  By the time she graduated from high school Desmond realized it too. Robert Sheldon’s screenplay had found its way to a less cautious producer who wasted no time raising the cash to make the movie, which by mid summer was a phenomenal success at the box office.

  Jackie was above the childish ‘I told you so’ she could’ve used against Desmond. Even if she had wanted to stoop to that level, she hadn’t the time.

  Her second summer in LA she was promoted from typing memos and stuffing envelops to script reader. Another of Hollywood’s less glamorous jobs. But one she’d have given her right arm for. Or so she thought in the beginning.

  The end of another uneventful week was drawing to a close. Uneventful in that Jackie had screened the nearly fifty scripts that crossed her desk and came up empty handed. This was a week no different from the last six when she began her summer job.

  She slid her chair under her desk and picked up the last of the scripts to be given to Peggy for return. When Jackie left her work area, which was nothing more than a desk and a chair among several in the large room, she started down the dismal hallway to Peggy’s office.

  Some office, Jackie thought, remembering. Peggy Johnson had gotten the same storage room with no windows when she was hired last fall to replace Jackie upon her return to high school.

  Peggy’s office was empty when Jackie took it upon herself to go right in. She plopped down the heavy load she hauled from her office on a corner of the desk. She took a moment to look around the confined area.

  This is where it had happened. It was no mystery anymore why it’d been so easy to lose herself in Robert Sheldon’s screenplay. She’d become the same prisoner locked in solitary confinement like Mr. Sheldon’s main character.

  She stared at the stack of typewritten pages she left for Peggy. Pages filled with what? Months, perhaps years of blood, sweat and tears from the writers. And still, none of the material had that magical something. Jackie wondered if she’d ever find another blockbuster like Sheldon’s. Even if she did, would she be brave enough to show it to Desmond? Maybe it’d be a whole lot easier to pack up and get a head start on her freshman year of college.

  By the time she headed in the door to the ladies room, she made her decision. She’d discuss an early enrollment with Desmond just as soon as she arrived home.

  “Peggy! I thought you’d gone home. I just put a stack of returns on your desk.”

  A faint, “Thanks,” barely made it over the sound of running water.

  Jackie sensed something was wrong when Peggy continued washing her hands without turning to give her usual pleasant smile.

  “You okay, Peggy?” The sniffle was a dead give away the woman had been crying. “Peggy.”

  Finally, Jackie sighed when she saw the smile. But the smeared mascara under Peggy’s puffy eyes chased away her own smile. She refrained from prodding and started inside one of the cubicles.

  “Jackie.”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s nothing personal. I mean the tears.”

  “That’s good. I guess.”

  “I was crying because… I know I have enough work to keep me busy and reading the scripts I get to send back isn’t part of my job, but when I get caught up I-”

  “Read them,” Jackie finished just like Desmond had for her.

  “I can’t believe Bob rejected the one I just read. It’s a real tear jerker.”

  Jackie remembered being in Peggy’s shoes. Not literally. She doubted she could fit a shoe worn by a woman as petite as Peggy Johnson. Jackie placed her to be slightly past forty. Rumor had it the woman survived her husband leaving for a younger woman. When he left he took with him the income that had been substantial enough that Peggy was able to stay home during the twenty year marriage. But with three teenage boys to feed and clothe, she had no choice but to join the work force after the divorce.

  “Then you haven’t sent back the script yet?”

  “Oh no. It’s still on my desk. I know I’m no trained reader, but I honestly can’t understand why Bob wasn’t touched by the story.”

  “Hard to say. Maybe he had a fight with his wife this morning. Then who knows when it comes to Bob Reynolds.”

  “Would you mind giving it a quick look before I send it back Monday?”

  “I’ll read it tonight.”

  “But it’s Friday. Don’t you have a date or something?” Peggy asked even though Jackie was confident the woman knew what she’d answer.

  “Who has time to date?”

  “Me. And I have a house and kids to contend with. What’s your excuse?”

  Jackie was thankful she was still behind the cubicle door, making it impossible for Peggy to see her. Otherwise, Peggy might have seen the fear in her eyes. Fear is what Jackie finally figured out stopped her. The opposite sex was still on the bottom of her trust list. And because she didn’t trust men, Desmond almost excluded, why would she waste time dating them?

  “Guess I haven’t found the right one yet,” she said, figuring Peggy had enough problems of her own that she didn’t need Jackie dumping on her.

  “That new guy Tommy has the hots for you,” Peggy said, smiling devilishly at Jackie when she stepped into the open.

  “That’s nice,” Jackie said without a show of emotion as she washed her hands.

  “Do you know your nickname around here, Jackie Bertoni?”

  Jackie stopped scrubbing and gave her a baffled look. “I have a nickname?”

  “The Ice Lady. That’s what I’ve heard from some of the guys. At least the ones that were brave enough to ask you out. It does su
rprise me none mentioned you might prefer dating women.”

  Jackie’s face flushed. “Is that what you think?”

  “It’s crossed my mind.”

  Jackie flicked her fingers, water splattering, then ripped a towel from the dispenser. “Well I’m not a lesbian.”

  “Then go out with Tommy,” Peggy coaxed. “He’s a real nice guy. He’ll treat you good.”

  Jackie took a second to cool down and gave Peggy a nod. “I’ll think about it, okay?”

  Peggy showed her pearly white teeth. “I’ll tell him to call you.”

  “Can you get me that brilliant script first?”

  Chapter Twenty Seven

  Sara had dinner waiting when Jackie arrived home. Friday evenings she ate alone. It was the one night each week Desmond claimed as his. The one night Jackie knew he spent with his lady friend. But she couldn’t let Desmond know she knew. Desmond never offered his whereabouts from the early hours of evening to sometime before dawn when Jackie would hear his Mercedes coast past the house to the garage.

  She really wasn’t very hungry. But she never had been able to turn down Sara’s pasta salad. She wolfed down the food without realizing she hadn’t tasted a bite before retreating to the section of the living room used for a study.

  With an anxious sigh, she let herself down onto Desmond’s favorite and most comfortable chair in the house. As she reached for the script in her attaché case, her insides came alive. After Peggy handed Jackie the screenplay on her way out the door, she wasted no time scooting into the waiting limousine where she immediately opened the cover to scene one. Jackie would make it a point to apologize to Charles first thing in the morning. After all, the man was only making the usual idle chit chat she’d grown to expect whenever he drove her somewhere.

  She couldn’t even remember what he was babbling on and on about. What she remembered clearly was her blunt interruption. “If you don’t mind, I’m trying to work here and could do it a lot better if you’d cut the chatter, Charles.”

  Jackie cringed, remembering her rudeness. She never meant to hurt his feelings. But she knew her words had to have been crushing to him. She assumed full responsibility for her actions when she easily could’ve placed full blame on the script that had grabbed her on page one and refused to let go. It was a real battle putting it down long enough to eat dinner.

  She turned pages to the scene where she’d left off. Reading the final scene left her breathless.

  The evening ahead became one of the longest Jackie had known in quite some time. She’d alternate pacing the floor to picking up the script and reviewing it scene by scene. Flawless. The most brilliant piece of work she’d ever read.

  At the wall of glass, she opened the door and stepped out into the still of the night. Standing at poolside, she sealed her eyelids. As she threw back her head, she inhaled the sweet scent of carnations. She heard a faint rippling sound coming from the pool water. An owl hooted from a distant tree. She slowly opened her eyes to the half moon and a sky ablaze with the sparkle of diamonds. A satisfied smile spread over her delicate features as she witnessed the sudden uprooting of a star as it shot across the sky.

  The sudden flash of headlights against the shrubs signaled Desmond’s arrival. This time when she inhaled the warm night air, it filled her with a blast of nervous energy. She quickly returned to the study and snatched the screenplay from where she’d left it on the chair. She clutched it to her chest when she heard the lock on the front door click open. Her heart temporarily shut down when she heard the door quietly close. It seemed an eternity before Desmond appeared in the archway, allowing blood to begin pumping back into her arteries to revive her heart.

  Desmond’s face paled with deep concern when he saw her waiting. “Jackie!”

  “Did you have a nice time?”

  He glanced at his wristwatch. “It’s nearly four in the morning. What are you doing up?”

  “Waiting on you.”

  “You haven’t been to bed?”

  “I’m too excited to sleep, Desmond.”

  Desmond arched a gray eyebrow as he moved into the room. He poured himself a drink and downed it before prompting her to proceed. “I’m ready now. Fire away.”

  “This time I won’t settle for anything less than a yes.” She loosened her firm grip on the script. She saw Desmond’s eyes linger on the bundle of paper before meeting hers. “I’m not going to say another word about it until you’ve read it.”

  “You want me to read it now?”

  “Only if you’re in the mood for an unforgettable journey.”

  As he refilled his glass, he said, “If I read it now, you promise to go up and get some sleep?”

  “You have my word.”

  By eight o’clock Saturday morning, Desmond was on the phone with the writer’s agent negotiating a deal. Once they came to an agreement, he put in a call to Fred Springfield to discuss the rewrite. Calls were made to some big name agents. Teddy DeSil was propositioned to direct. It went on and on like that most of the day.

  Jackie coaxed until Desmond agreed to let her off the hook with her summer job so she could help wherever she was needed in the production of the movie. She did have to do more than her usual sweet talking when it came to postponing college in the fall.

  “No. I won’t allow it, Jackie. When the university opens its doors for the fall semester next week, you will be there.”

  “But that’s when we start casting for the lead roles,” she protested. “I’ve waited weeks for this, Desmond.”

  “There’ll be other movies. Other auditions to sit through once you’ve finished your education.”

  “I don’t give a damn about other movies,” her voice boomed. A few seconds to catch her breath, then calmer, albeit with determination, she said, “I’m not jumping ship on this movie, Desmond. I can’t. These past weeks when you left some of the decision making up to me, I realized if I was given the opportunity, I wouldn’t trade places with another living soul. I love what I’m doing.”

  “What about college? Your generation needs the higher education to make it today.”

  “Experience in this business is giving me an education far better than any college can.”

  Jackie wasn’t waiting for the doors to the university to open for the start of its fall semester that year. Instead, she waited in the wings during the casting for the lead roles of the movie that was two years in the making. When it was nominated for picture of the year that third year, she was among the several who stepped on stage to accept the Oscar.

  Her work had become her life that second summer in America. And when Tommy from the reading department did finally get up the nerve to ask her out on a date, she was telling the truth when she said her schedule was too full to date. It remained so over the years that followed when others found the courage to ask The Ice Lady for a date.

  Chapter Twenty Eight

  Exhaustion, coupled with the need to put aside thoughts of her life with Desmond in America made it easy for Jackie to finally settle back in her seat on the plane. Sleep conquered her almost instantly.

  Dawn broke over the horizon by the time Jackie climbed inside the rented car and pulled away from the airport in Rome. She felt much better than she had the night before. But then she had slept through the biggest part of the trip. Her exhaustion was gone. Even the anxiety of returning to her homeland had eased somewhat. But the closer she came to Naples, the tighter her nerves pulled.

  Jackie barely remembered the drive. But she had arrived at her destination. She parked at the one end of the harbor. The instant she stepped out of the car and got a whiff of the air, the aroma of fish and pasta, the sea, she knew she had missed it.

  She peered over the roof of the car. Her chest rose slowly as she inhaled. The two-story building that stood at the far end of Sailor’s Corner was exactly as she remembered. Do it now. Another minute of stalling is too dangerous. The next minute could find you on your way back to America. Do it now Jackie.
/>   The words repeated themselves the entire time she bravely marched toward her past.

  She froze outside the door to the restaurant. A terrible thought came to her. What if her parents no longer lived here? She looked up at the sign hanging over the door. Bertoni’s Ristorante. Of course her parents still owned the place. Where else would they go?

  Do it now, Jackie. That blasted voice returned to bark orders. But she knew the voice belonged to her. Belonged to that part of her that knew her life would never be whole until she confronted her buried past.

  She turned the doorknob and stepped into the past.

  Everything appeared just as she remembered. Booths were along three of the walls. There were round tables between the booths and bar stools. Customers occupied a few of the booths on the far wall.

  She steadied her eyes on the man who’d come through the swinging double doors from the kitchen to stand behind the counter at the cash register. Jackie didn’t recognize him at first. But the second he handed the customer standing across from him his change, she knew who he was.

  Jackie could never forget that smile. It wouldn’t have mattered if the world was falling down around Frankie, all he had to do was smile that brilliant smile of his and everything would be fine.

  When Jackie left home, she believed if there was one of her brothers who didn’t resent her, it would’ve been Frankie.

  She stepped away from the doorway so the customer could leave. When she looked back to the counter, Frankie was staring at her.

  “Hello, Frankie.”

  “Jackie…”

  Each began slowly edging toward the end of the counter until they stood face-to-face. A brief moment passed as each gave the other the once over. Then, without warning, Frankie wrapped his arms around her. When he finally pulled back, he began straightening her winter white suit jacket. It was as if he had handled something he shouldn’t have and needed to put it back in place so he wouldn’t be scolded.