“You are.” Annalise crossed her arms.
Claire paused, wondering if she should continue. “I get the attraction to James, but life in the limelight isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, and people like James go from one shiny object to the next. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“My heart is already broken! My father made sure of that!”
Oh jeez. Robert. “Speaking of which…”
“He doesn’t know. I’m only staying long enough to collect my things, then I’m going to be with James at Starlight Creek.”
“Does James know this?”
Annalise pointed at the letter in Claire’s hand. “He will when you give that to him.”
“Oh.” Claire stared at the innocent-looking envelope. She handed it back to Annalise, who crossed her arms once more. “I’m sorry.”
“No one understands me!” yelled Annalise.
“Please, come with me.” Claire put her hand under the teenager’s elbow and steered her toward the deserted park on the other side of the road. They sat at a picnic bench under a jacaranda, while birds foraged on the grass and in the garden beds. “You know, I’ve been in your position. When I first started out in this industry I would get so starstruck I would almost faint any time a big-name actor acknowledged my existence. I tried dating a couple—”
“Who?” Annalise’s eyes widened.
“It doesn’t matter who.”
“It does!”
“Fine,” said Claire, knowing Annalise would stop listening if she didn’t reveal names. “Steve Holt and Joey Reynolds.”
“What?” Annalise grabbed Claire’s arm. “Are you serious?”
“Deadly serious.” She smiled. “It wasn’t all bad. I liked the fancy dinners and expensive wine and beautiful presents, but there was a downside.”
“What was it?” Annalise leaned forward.
“I was never going to be their number-one priority. A lot of actors live and breathe their work—which is why they get paid the dollars they do—but it means sacrificing many other things, including relationships.”
“Other actors marry.”
“Of course they do, and some of those partnerships are wonderfully loving and successful. It’s a credit to the couples who manage to stay together with their lives under constant media scrutiny.” Claire paused, not sure if she was crossing a line. “Are you sure this isn’t a fling?”
“It’s way more serious than that. James said so.”
Damn James. He had this poor girl hook, line and sinker. “What exactly did he say?”
“He said he’s sick of dating women who are plastic, who only want to be seen with him to advance their careers. He likes my down-to-earth view of the world, and that I’m not interested in all the glitz and glamour.”
“He said all that?” Claire managed to hide the surprise in her voice.
“And he said he’s never felt this way about someone before. That I am refreshing.”
Claire wondered if they were talking about a different James. This was the second shoot they’d worked on together and, as much as she liked him, he’d never shown that side of himself. But even if Annalise was a mature eighteen-year-old and James a not-so-mature twenty-eight-year-old, ten years was still a big difference, especially given their life experiences. Claire liked to think James wouldn’t take advantage of Annalise, and she prayed he hadn’t been feeding her lines. If he was genuine, was it fair to keep these two apart?
Claire studied the pale green tiles of the fountain. “I can’t be responsible for getting this letter into James’s hands. I’d be hung, drawn and quartered if I got caught. I think what’s best for now is to let James finish the miniseries. In a few weeks’ time, when everything has settled down with your father, then maybe you and James can talk and reassess where you’re both at.” It wasn’t the perfect solution, but it could work. With time, Annalise would see sense, and James would likely have moved on to the next bright new thing. And if he hadn’t, maybe his interest in Annalise was genuine. Either way, time would tell.
“I don’t want to wait.”
“I tell you what.” Claire grabbed a pen and paper out of her handbag, wrote down her number and passed it to Annalise. “This is how you can get hold of me while I’m in Starlight Creek.”
“What’s with all these numbers?”
“It’s my mobile phone. If you ever need to talk—to me—I am here to listen. But I can’t put you in direct contact with James for now. Do we have a deal?”
Annalise stared at the paper in her hand. “I guess so.”
“Excellent.” Claire stood. “I need to get going.” She took a step, then stopped and turned. “Promise me one thing?”
“It depends…”
“Promise me you won’t mope around, and that you’ll get on with your life and make it as wonderful as possible. If it’s meant to be, it will happen with James. Besides.” Claire hitched her bag onto her shoulder. “Life’s not just about falling in love with a man. There are so many other things we can fall in love with—ourselves, for starters.”
“That sounds weird.”
“It sounds weird, but it’s not. If we spend time doing things that make us happy and learning about ourselves, learning to love ourselves, then people will be drawn to us.”
“Is that what you do?”
“I try,” said Claire. “I really must go, but don’t worry. Things will work out the way they’re supposed to.”
“That’s what I’m worried about,” muttered Annalise.
Claire hurried across the road and over to the ute. She put the key in the lock and opened the door.
“You better not be encouraging her,” came a voice that caused her body to instantly tense.
Claire steeled herself before turning to face Robert Dennis. “Definitely not.”
“Good. I’ll be glad to see you lot out of here. She’s been corrupted enough already with promises that will never be fulfilled, and I’ll be the one left to clean up the pieces.”
“Mr. Dennis—”
He held up his hand. “I don’t need to hear it.”
The anger flashing in his eyes told her things hadn’t changed since she last saw him.
Claire got in her ute. She rolled down the window and said in earnest, “It was really nice meeting you.”
Robert rested his hand on her door, preventing her from reversing. He leaned so close she could smell the beer on his breath. “This is not the end of it. I will do my damned best to make sure this production fails.”
Chapter Eleven
1950 – Hollywood
Lena stood before the doors that led to the main administration building of Fortitude Studios. The bluster that had propelled her here had dissipated the second her feet reached the welcome mat.
“This is a stupid idea,” she muttered. She turned, slamming straight into a tall, muscular body. Lena looked up. “Oh!”
Reeves met her with a smile. “What’s a stupid idea?”
“Nothing. Nothing at all.”
Reeves stretched his arm past her and held open the door.
“I’m not going in,” she said.
“It didn’t look like that a few seconds ago. Changed your mind?”
“Yes. No. Maybe.” Argh! Why did Reeves Garrity have this effect on her?
“Who were you planning to see?”
Jeez, he didn’t let up. “No one.”
“Hmm…” He tapped his finger against his chin. “A stupid idea that is about nothing and an appointment with no one.”
“Exactly.” She crossed her arms.
Reeves’s smile was wide.
“What’s so funny?” she huffed.
“I like the way your forehead creases when you’re annoyed.”
“Huh?” She made an effort to smooth her brow even thoug
h she was most definitely annoyed. “Listen, I have to go.” She took a step away from the building.
“The door’s this way.” Reeves bowed like she was a princess.
“I’m not…” Why was she chickening out? This was her career, after all. Lena marched past Reeves and into the foyer. He followed.
“Thank you,” she said.
“For?”
“For opening the door.”
“It was my pleasure.” Amusement sparkled in his eyes, then his expression turned serious. “How are you doing?”
“I’m fine.”
“Really?” The way he asked made her feel like he could see right through her.
Lena fiddled with her gloves and purse. “Really.”
“Hmm…”
“Well, see you around.” She took a step toward the elevator, but he blocked her path.
“Yesterday you were far from fine. I may not know you very well, but what happened with your role had a marked effect on you. Now you’re all sunshine and smiles. I suspect you are putting your acting skills to work.”
“I’m taking it as a compliment that you can’t tell if I’m being genuine or acting.”
Reeves’s shoulders dropped. “I would like to think you could be honest with me like you were yesterday. Or was that an act as well?”
“No,” she said quickly. “You were very kind, and I appreciate it. I’m sorry for leaving so quickly but…” She could have invented a fib, but what was the point? Apparently, Reeves Garrity could see through her facade. That, or she had to go back to acting lessons. She didn’t like either option. She rubbed her wrist. “But a lot of things have happened in my life that still affect me now.”
“Things that stop you from having dinner with me?”
“Yes.”
He blinked slowly. “I didn’t actually expect that answer.”
“I’m sorry, Reeves. I’m happy to be your acquaintance, but that’s all it can be. Barring some close friends, I keep to myself. It’s easier that way.”
“So why are you in this business? Actors are open books.”
“Not all of us are,” she said.
“It’s a fact, especially if you become a star. And I see that potential in you.”
“Mae West manages to keep her life private.”
“She’s one of the few, and she’s not with this studio. When you signed your contract, you pretty much signed your life—private and public—away.”
“I don’t need a legal lecture, thanks.” Lena moved toward the elevator again, this time skillfully dodging Reeves.
He gave a wry smile and his index figure hovered above the buttons. “Which floor?”
“Eight.”
“You’re seeing Mr. Cooper?”
“Don’t look so shocked. He’s not a princess in an ivory tower.”
“Why are you…” He shook his head. “It is none of my business.”
Lena relaxed a little. “I do owe you an explanation, because you were so very sweet with me yesterday. You helped me when I really needed it. You really are quite the gentleman.” She smiled. “But I didn’t need rescuing, just so you’re aware.”
“I wouldn’t dare!” He held up his hands in defense.
“Good, glad we have that sorted.” She was willingly putting herself out on a limb, but something about Reeves Garrity encouraged her to do so—and it annoyed the heck out of her. “I’m going to ask Mr. Cooper for a new role.”
“Whoa! Shouldn’t your agent do that? Besides, he’s not the one who makes those decisions—unless you’re a big name.”
“Which I am not, I get that. My agent is away, and I can’t wait for him to return. I’ve met Mr. Cooper, and he seems like an approachable man.”
“He’s the head of the studio.”
“He’s human.”
“Wow,” said Reeves. “You really like to take chances, don’t you?”
“Why would you say that?”
“Who goes to the head of the studio and asks for a role? I like you, Lena Lee, but you’re crazy.”
“My roommate said the same thing.” She drew her brows together. Maybe this idea was too far out there. No actress she knew would ever do something this preposterous. But time wasn’t on her side—directors like Lawrence already thought she was too old for a lead.
The elevator pinged, and the doors opened. She stared at the void, wondering what she was doing. Yvonne and Reeves did have a point, but… Lena straightened her spine. Hollywood would not be where her dreams went to die.
Lena stepped across the threshold.
She turned to see the doors close on Reeves, who waved and yelled, “Good luck.”
She was going to need it.
* * * *
Lena adjusted her position on the creaky leather sofa once more. She’d been in the reception area of Stuart Cooper’s office for over an hour. Behind a walled desk, the receptionist tapped away on her typewriter and answered phones.
She looked over her glasses at Lena. “It really would be best to leave a message for Mr. Cooper, or make an appointment.”
“You said he doesn’t have a spare appointment until next month.”
“He is a busy man. Look, I have no idea how long this meeting will be. He’s already half an hour behind schedule, and he has a lunch meeting shortly.”
“I’m happy to wait all the same,” said Lena. She wasn’t convinced Stuart Cooper would get the message if she left one.
“Suit yourself.” The woman returned to bashing the typewriter, her long nails clicking against the keys.
A while later, the heavy wooden door of Stuart Cooper’s office opened. His large, round frame filled up most of the doorway as he patted the back of a man much shorter and leaner. The bespectacled visitor clutched a stack of papers against his chest. He reminded Lena of a frightened woodland creature.
“I’ll send over the paperwork this afternoon.” Stuart Cooper’s voice boomed through the reception. “Good to meet you, Henry.”
Henry nodded and headed toward the elevator. Stuart stopped for a moment to study Lena. When he smiled, it was kind.
“I know you from somewhere,” he said.
“I’m Lena Lee. I was at your party.” Lena stood and smoothed down her skirt. She prayed her sweaty palms didn’t leave a mark on the material.
The secretary watched Lena, no doubt waiting for her boss to send her packing.
Mr. Cooper’s puzzled expression sent a ripple of panic through her. Oh no. He didn’t remember. She’d been banking on him recalling her performance, but now, with his stern expression, she realized exactly how wrong she’d been. Hollywood was full of actresses who were forgotten five minutes after they held the limelight in the palm of their perfectly manicured hands.
“Ah!” He held up his finger, his face lighting up. “You sang ‘Over the Rainbow.’ I told my wife that you reminded me of a nightingale.”
“You did?” Her voice came out an octave higher than usual, and she made an effort to lower it. “You did?”
“Yes, yes. What are you doing here?”
“I…” Take a breath, Lena. “I was hoping I could have five minutes of your time, please.”
“Hold all calls, Lorraine.” His arm made a sweeping motion toward the office.
Trying to stop her body from trembling, she walked into the head of Fortitude Studios’ office. She didn’t need to look back to know that Lorraine was looking on with disapproval.
Mr. Cooper gestured for her to take a seat opposite his desk. She positioned herself on the edge of the chair and tucked her legs under, crossing them at the ankles, just like her grandmother had shown her when she was little. Gosh, she missed home.
“Now, Miss Lee, we do not have much time, so please get straight to the point. I gather this is not a social visit?” He tapped the edg
e of his cigarette on the desk, then placed it in his mouth and lit it. “Oh, I’m sorry. Would you like one?”
“No, thank you.” A thin sheen of perspiration crept across her skin. She had to do this. “I’m hoping you can find a role for me.”
“Don’t you have one? Or are we paying you to do nothing?”
“I had a role. Until yesterday. I was cast in the movie with Lawrence Doherty, but my role got cut.”
“Oh.” A cloud of smoke swirled above him. “I heard about that. I didn’t realize it was you.”
“Mr. Doherty doesn’t have anything for me and—”
“I know you can sing, and we wouldn’t have hired you if you couldn’t act. Show me.”
“Pardon?”
“Show me you can act. Now.”
“Uh…” Ever since arriving in Hollywood she’d prided herself on being prepared to perform at a moment’s notice. No one knew when an opportunity would come their way, so having a scene ready to go was invaluable. But since being hired by Fortitude Studios Lena had slacked off, thinking she’d always have roles. Her mind scrambled to pull a scene—any scene—and act like her life depended on it.
She had nothing.
Mr. Cooper butted his cigarette and stood. “Time’s up.”
Lena’s eyes grew glassy, and warm tears trickled down her face. “I know it means nothing to you, but for me, it’s everything. All my life I’ve dreamed about this. Yet you reached into my soul, grabbed my heart and discarded it like a child’s unwanted toy.”
Lena got up and walked around the room, gesturing as she spoke. “I believed you when you said you loved me. That was just one more lie in a sea of untruths designed to misguide and misdirect me so you could get what you wanted.
“Did you ever care about me? This ruse you pulled, did you stop, even for a moment, and think about the impact of your betrayal? Where’s your heart?” Lena gulped back the sobs. Stuart Cooper sat back down, his eyes not leaving hers. Her tone hardened. “You won’t get away with this. For as long as I draw breath, I will take a stance against you and everything you stand for. You.” She picked up the letter opener and wielded it like a knife near his nose. “You won’t die today. That would be too easy. Oh no.” She let out a long, guttural laugh. “You will suffer like a fly trapped in a web, and you will watch in horror as the spider slowly creeps toward you. The torment of knowing your death is inevitable will drive you insane. And I, like that spider, will revel in your pain.”
The Cinema of Lost Dreams Page 10
