The Cinema of Lost Dreams

by Alli Sinclair

  “You better not be asking for the moon.”

  “Not at all.” She took a moment to compose herself, mindful this could fall in a heap very quickly. Lena didn’t like holding her boss’s feet to the flame, but her reasons were entirely unselfish. “About the women at the studio, especially the chorus girls.”

  Stuart grunted.

  “They have hard lives. They put in long hours, and they know the chance of them being discovered is miniscule but they always put in one hundred percent—for a pittance. Many of these girls are sharing small apartments with ten other people. They eat one meal a day. They sleep three to a bed. Something has to change.”

  “They chose this industry.”

  “Regardless, they should be paid fairly.”

  “They are.”

  “I’ve checked. The men in the chorus earn forty percent more than the women. Forty percent!”

  Stuart looked at Reeves, who shifted in his chair.

  Reeves rested his elbows on his knees. “She’s right.”

  “Of course she’s damn right, but it doesn’t mean I can start yanking money out of the company account and giving everyone an instant pay raise! I’d be broke! They’re hired for a job, they’re offered a certain amount of money and they accept it or they don’t.”

  “Obviously they’re going to accept it,” said Lena. “They don’t really have a choice.”

  “There’s always a choice.” Stuart’s face turned red and he clenched his fists. “What do you want me to do about it?”

  “I want the women to be paid the same as the men. That’s all.”

  “That’s all?” He jumped up and started pacing. “That’s all?”

  “Yes.”

  “And I suppose you want to earn the same amount as Garrity?”

  Although this hadn’t been on her agenda, she certainly liked the idea. Before she lost the nerve, Lena said, “Yes.”

  Stuart pulled at the hair near his temples. “You are going to send me broke!”

  “That’s not my intention. All I’m asking is for fair pay for everyone.”

  “Good god.” Stuart flopped onto his chair. “If you ever give up acting you’d be an excellent politician.”

  * * * *

  Lena sat under a shady tree in Cavendish Park, her bare feet rubbing lightly against the grass. The scent of roses and purple sage hung in the air, and birds dipped between the overhanging trees above. She alternated between chewing on the end of the pencil and using it to mark up the script that had been her main focus for the past twenty-four hours.

  Thoughts of Pierre and Jeanne occasionally popped into her head, and she reminded herself that Stuart had things under control. She prayed he wasn’t feeding her a pile of manure. Though why would he? Certainly it would be in his best interests to keep her happy, given she was about to step into her biggest role to date—and he desperately needed her.

  “Coffee?” Reeves sauntered over carrying a picnic basket, his broad shoulders perfectly filling out his gray suit. He sat down on her tartan blanket.

  “Yes, thanks.” She put down the script while he pulled out a thermos and two metal mugs.

  “Cream?”

  “Black, thanks.”

  He passed her the mug and she took a sip. The thick, black coffee sent a zing down her spine. “This is so good!”

  “Cookie?” He proffered a plate of chocolate chip delights.

  “Did you make these?”

  “No, no. One of my fans delivers them to the studio every Tuesday.”

  “Are you serious?” she asked.

  “Absolutely.”

  “She could poison you!” Lena picked up a cookie and examined it.

  “I don’t know many eighty-year-old ladies whose goal in life is to poison actors.”

  “She’s eighty?” Lena took a bite and marveled at the combination of gooey chocolate and buttery cookie. “Mmmm. These are incredible.”

  “Mrs. Schultz makes some pretty mean cookies. You should try her cakes!”

  “Is she trying to make you fat?” Lena wiped the crumbs from her mouth and eyed another cookie. No, no. Don’t do it. But oh…so good!

  “She lost her husband two years ago, and all her children and grandchildren are scattered around the country.” Reeves offered her another one and she took it, refusing to give in to the guilt.

  “She’s adopted you?”

  “In a way.” He pulled out a copy of his script, switching to a businesslike manner. “That was an interesting play you made with Stuart.”

  “About equal pay?”

  “Yep.”

  “You think I was wrong?” Lena stuffed the rest of the cookie in her mouth. She really would suffer for this later.

  “No, not at all! Your timing was perfect. You had him over a barrel.”

  She leaned back on her hands. “He wasn’t happy.”

  “That’s to be expected. You’ve made some actresses very happy, though.”

  “I honestly didn’t think he’d agree,” she said.

  “Then why did you push it?”

  “Because someone has to give these women a voice, and I’m in a position to do just that.”

  “Most people in your position wouldn’t care.”

  “I do. Don’t you?”

  “Yes, yes. I would never have thought to leverage it the way you did, though. Looking out for others is a nice quality, Lena Lee.”

  She shrugged, not sure how to react to the compliment.

  “So, will you buy another house?” he asked.

  “Pardon?”

  “With the extra money.”

  “I will, but I won’t be living in it.”

  Reeves furrowed his brows. “Nothing is ever straightforward with you.”

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing,” she laughed. “The salary increase is not mine. Well, technically it is, but I’m not keeping it.” She paused for dramatic effect. “I have a plan.”

  “Why am I not surprised?”

  Lena couldn’t contain her smile. “Some actresses are getting more money, but it’s still not enough. I’m going to buy a house that has plenty of space, and I’ll set it aside to help women who have just arrived in Hollywood. Some of the most depressing things when starting out in this business are the knock-backs and the time it takes to secure work. There’s the constant worry of if you’ll be able to afford the next meal or the roof over your head. I want to remove these worries and help educate women about how this industry works. I want them to feel safe, to make wise decisions based on what is right for them, not say yes to jobs to their detriment. That way they can give their best performance and, hopefully, find decent work. This house will be a safe place to stay until they’re on their feet. It’s the perfect chance for them to make friends and stay in the loop about which studio is auditioning for what role. The strength of women helping and looking out for each other can be a true force.”

  “Oh, yes,” said Reeves. “When my sister and our female cousins get together there is a definite change in the air. It feels more…powerful.”

  “Exactly!” she said. “This town is hard enough, and women are vulnerable, especially those who don’t have enough money for food or a bed to sleep in.”

  “This is a great thing you are doing,” said Reeves.

  “It’s not about me, it really isn’t. It’s about being in a position to help others. Isn’t that what life should be about?”

  “Life is about many things and yes, looking out for others is something we should all do.” Reeves studied the branches above, speckles of sunlight falling on his face. “Can I write you a check?”

  “You want to help?”

  “Of course. None of the women in my family would ever dream about this lifestyle, but if they did I would want them to have a safe house like yours
to turn to. There are so many women in Hollywood, though. How can we possibly help them all?”

  “It feels like a tiny ripple in a very large pond, but maybe we can get others on board.” She stared at the blue sky peeking through the branches. “Is it wrong to dream this big?”

  “Dreams are what got us here.”

  “True,” she said. “Although I never set out to be an actress.”

  “You didn’t?” Reeves’s eagerness to hear more made her realize she could be swimming into dangerous territory. But she wanted to get to know him better, to learn more about his life, and the only way to do that was to share a little about herself—she just had to make sure she didn’t give away too much.

  “I left my small town to go to the big smoke to become a swimsuit model.”

  “I can see why.”

  “Stop.” She punched him playfully in the arm. “I enjoyed the attention and money, but I quickly lost interest. When I was offered a part in a play in New York I jumped at the opportunity. Then I kept getting offered roles, and people were paying me to act. It was incredible. Movies were what I really wanted to get into, so I came to LA. Then the opportunity for a part in a musical came along, and even though it petrified me I got up and sang my heart out.”

  “Had you ever had lessons?”

  “Not one. Where I come from singing lessons weren’t possible. It’s a farming community, and the last thing they care about is music or acting.”

  “Where are you from? I don’t think you’ve mentioned it.”

  “Just a small, rural town, not even a dot on the map.” She needed to guide the conversation away before he had a chance to ask more. “Apparently I’m a natural singer, and it propelled me into larger roles. The problem was, the roles were always insipid, women falling at the feet of men. It drove me crazy, but I needed the money.”

  “Ah, so this is the reason you don’t want other actresses to have to take roles that don’t appeal.”

  “Actually, no. I am a strong believer in trying lots of different roles, and hard work should be what gets you to the top. Acting outside of our comfort zone is a good thing, because it makes us more motivated and determined to pursue the things we do want. This place I’m buying for actresses is not a free ride, it’s a safe haven. There are plenty of dubious characters under the guises of moviemakers or agents who are more than happy to take advantage of a woman, especially one who has just arrived in Los Angeles greener than Montana.”

  “This is going to cause a stir among the higher-ups.”

  “I don’t care.” She crossed her arms. “Someone has to look out for these women.”

  “So, it might as well be you.”

  “Might as well.”

  “You can count on me to help in any way I can,” said Reeves.

  “Thank you. You have no idea how much I appreciate it.”

  “You have no idea how much I appreciate being able to help. My acting career has been a lot easier than most, and I count that blessing every day. I have no idea what it’s like to have to turn up to cattle calls and put myself in front of others for criticism. I’ve been lucky, so it only makes sense that I show some of my gratitude by helping others. Although…”

  “Although?”

  “Although throwing money at the problem doesn’t sit right with me. I’ll donate, I’m happy to do so, but what else can I do? Could I get my agent to set up auditions for actresses? Getting on his books would at least be a foot in the door, right?”

  Lena’s cheeks hurt from smiling. “Reeves Garrity, the actor with a beautiful sense of compassion.”

  “Lena Lee, the actress with a heart bigger than Texas.”

  A bout of shyness overtook her, and she picked up the script and stared at it. Even after this lovely conversation, there was still something that had to be said. If she didn’t say it now, she never would. “Are we going to be okay?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Things have been…interesting between us. And with all the drama unfolding with Pierre and Jeanne, I just want to make sure we’ll be fine.”

  “We’re professionals. We’ll do this well.”

  “But…”

  “But?”

  “It doesn’t matter.” Maybe she had it all wrong. Perhaps Reeves didn’t feel the attraction she did. Although he’d kissed her—twice. And he certainly didn’t seem like the kind of man who kissed women on a whim. Well, she hoped not, anyway.

  “Shall we start reading at the spot where they first meet?” He pointed to his script.

  “Sure, sure.” As she flicked the pages she was accosted by images of their very first meeting at Stuart Cooper’s party. She’d been so green and hopeful; he’d been so handsome and spoken for.

  “Remember when we met at Stuart’s party?” asked Reeves.

  A laugh escaped her lips. “I was just thinking about that. Could you ever have imagined we’d be here right now, working on the studio’s biggest movie of the year?”

  “Never. Although”—he reached for her hand and squeezed it—“I am so very glad that we’re doing this together.”

  “What about Jeanne?” She withdrew her hand.

  “According to her agent—and mine—she’s doing better, though the road is going to be long. At this stage no one is allowed to see her, and the staff are well-trained in what they can and can’t say, so there’s no risk of Jeanne finding out about us doing this movie. There’s no need to worry. Jeanne will be fine.”

  “I hope so.”

  He smiled slowly. “Why do you care so much about someone who treats you like she does?”

  “Honestly, I find it very hard to forgive Jeanne’s behavior toward me and others, but I can’t see the point in holding on to negative feelings. They just make my life intolerable.” Dotty and Charlie came to mind, and she wished Dotty could forgive her. Maybe one day…

  “Wow.”

  “Wow what?”

  “Wow, I have no idea how you’ve made it so far in this business and still manage to hold on to such strong empathy.”

  “My status doesn’t mean I should lose any sense of justice or compassion.” She didn’t care that she sounded indignant.

  Reeves held up his hand. “It’s not a criticism! I love that you are who you are.”

  “You do?”

  “Why so surprised? In case you hadn’t noticed—”

  “Yes, I’ve noticed, but we’re keeping this professional. Come on.” She waved the script under his nose, losing her nerve to start the talk they needed to have. “Let’s get on with this, because I have a whole lot of catching up to do.”

  * * * *

  Lena sat in a booth at the back of Roy’s Diner, facing the far wall. She sipped on a banana milkshake while she patiently waited for her best friends. The bell above the door tingled, and she resisted the urge to turn around. So far she’d managed to avoid being recognized, and she wanted to keep it that way.

  “Here you go.” A handkerchief appeared in front of her face and she looked up to find George grinning. He sat opposite and raised his eyebrows. “Where are the tears?”

  “Not funny,” she whispered harshly.

  “Yeah, where’s the mound of ice cream?” asked Yvonne as she slid in beside Lena.

  “Just let it be.” She sipped on the milkshake.

  “That Frenchman is a dirty double-crosser.” Yvonne spoke to George across the table. “I always knew he couldn’t be trusted. I bet he’s not even French.”

  Lena choked and tried not to spit the milkshake across the table. “Can we just leave this subject alone? All I want is a few precious minutes to hang out with my good friends and be normal.”

  “You’ve chosen the wrong friends if you want normal,” said George with a wink.

  “Ha!” Lena laughed for the first time in what felt like forever. “Mr. Barre
tt, care to tell me where you were last Sunday?”

  “Oh.” He concentrated on fiddling with the sugar. “Sorry about that.”

  “If you had to cancel, I wouldn’t have minded. I just wish you hadn’t left me waiting.” Although, if George had turned up she wouldn’t have spent that lovely time with Reeves or headed to the studio and talked to Stuart. Would things have played out differently?

  “I’m really sorry, Lena.” George shifted on his seat. “Something came up.”

  “What’s his name?” She laughed, but stopped when she noticed his serious expression.

  “I’m still not over Oscar.” Annoyance lined his voice. “Thanks to Jeanne Harris.”

  “She’s not in any state to…” Lena drew her mouth into a tight line.

  “To what?” asked George.

  “Doesn’t matter.” Lena finished the milkshake and studied the menu, even though it never changed.

  “If you must know,” said George, “I had a last-minute meeting about a script I’ve written.”

  Lena put the menu down. “Who with?”

  “I don’t want to jinx it. Just know it was someone very influential.”

  “Ooh!” Lena reached for George’s hands and squeezed them. “You better invite me to opening night, then I’ll forgive you for standing me up.”

  George laughed, but he didn’t sound like his usual self. “I should have called, but the meeting happened quickly.”

  “It’s fine, really.” She returned to the menu.

  “The usual, ladies and gentleman?” Meryl arrived at the table, her smile as bright as her newly dyed hair.

  “Blond looks great on you,” said George.

  “Oh? This?” Meryl patted her perfectly coiffured hairdo. “I needed a change.”

  “Sometimes that is the best thing.” Yvonne fixed her eyes on Lena.

  “I’ll have the cheeseburger,” said Lena, concentrating on Meryl.

  “Pardon?” Meryl and Yvonne said in unison.

  “What?” said George. “No salad?”

  “I need a change.” Lena deliberately echoed Meryl. “Anyone have a problem with that?”