*****
“Alice, we have a problem.”
“My five favorite words.” She grabbed her iPad and followed the stage manager to the park set where Giselle sat on a bench with Rich and the cameramen and other crew standing around. “So what is it?”
“It’s Giselle.”
As soon as she reached Giselle, she understood the problem. Giselle’s face was red, her nose swollen, and her eyes puffy. She looked like someone who had been crying for hours. Alice sat down beside her and placed a hand on her arm.
“What’s wrong? You look like you’ve been crying for hours.”
Giselle sniffed, and more tears began to flow. “It’s Jack. I haven’t seen him or spoken to him since the morning after the cast party. When he left my place, he said he would call me once he got Peter settled in Toronto, but I never did hear from him. When I tried his cell, it would go straight to voicemail, so I thought maybe he didn’t have service out there. He didn’t reply to my texts either. This morning I called his office to leave a message with his assistant, and she told me he’s been back in L.A. since Friday!”
Alice rubbed her hand up and down Giselle’s arm she hoped in a reassuring way, but she couldn’t keep thoughts of the storyline out of her head.
“Giselle, he’s obviously a dick. He doesn’t deserve you. You should just delete his number from your cell.”
“I already did.”
“I hate to say it, but he might have just wanted to get you into bed. He’s had a crush on Sienna for years.”
“I know, but it just didn’t feel that way.”
We need a scene in the can. “If I can put together an emotional scene for you, do you think you can use all of this as Sienna?” Giselle sniffed and nodded, and Alice stood up and glanced at her tablet then around the soundstage.
“Who is still here?”
“Only Rich and Eileen from the cast,” the stage manager said.
“Any writers? Go find them and tell Eileen to come here. Where’s Peacock?”
“Gone. It was supposed to be a simple three-camera scene, already blocked.”
Alice exchanged her iPad for a script, which she pulled apart then rearranged its pages. “OK, Rich, you can go. We’ll have to film your romantic scene with Sienna tomorrow. So move the scene with Raife and his priest later, after the scene on the waterfront.”
Eileen and the writers appeared. “What’s up?”
“Thank God, you’re still in make-up. You haven’t discussed the whole Tristan/brother bit with Sienna, have you?”
“No. Tristan told me, but I haven’t had a scene with Sienna since.”
“OK, good. She’s about to show up at your doorstep in hysterics. Everyone, move over to Clarissa’s living room. Eileen, go put on scrubs or something. Writers, come with me.”
Romance and soap operas do not mix.
*****
“Cut. Print. That’s a rap!” Buzz.
Thank God – it’s finally over. The last week on set had been miserable. Eileen had gone to New Orleans the week before, and Alice missed her already. Giselle moped around the set every day, which did not help the on-air chemistry between Sienna and Raife. Although she did miss the attention and the fun of flirting, Alice figured cooling it with Rich made the disappearance of Jack at least a little easier on Giselle. In fact, off-screen Rich had offered a shoulder for Giselle to cry on much like Raife did for Sienna.
Hmmm. Giselle and Rich walked off the set together, and she definitely smiled up at him. Perhaps Rich has decided not to wait for me after all. Oh, well. She could hardly blame him. A beautiful actress and a handsome actor naturally gravitated toward one another – especially when they were playing lovers on screen.
Mr. Peacock broke her from her reverie. “Alice, we need to talk.”
Ah, my second favorite five words. “What is it?”
He handed her a thick stack of legal-sized paper. Perusing the top sheet, only the names of the network executives and Peter Walsingham made any sense.
“What is this?” she asked.
“Peter’s attorneys have been at it with the execs. Peter is suing us.”
“For what?”
“So he doesn’t have to come back to All My Tomorrows.”
All the blood rushed out of her face, causing a chill and a wave of nausea. “I can’t believe it.” She handed him back the papers.
“Believe it. At the very least, he will not be back in September. The judge has granted his motion not to return until his court date. The network attorneys said then he could request a continuance, and this could drag out for months and he still wouldn’t come back.”
Her shock gave way to anger. Her heart raced and her eyes burned. “That son of a bitch.”
“I’m sorry, Alice. I must admit, you were right to cut his romance with Sienna.”
“That son of a bitch!”
“I know you and your team have mapped out a story arc for him.”
“I’ll kill him. I swear to God, if I ever lay eyes on Peter Walsingham again, I’m going to kill him! And here he offers to host this congratulatory party for saving the show when he is putting the final nail in its coffin!”
“Well, we don’t know when this was decided. He might have thought –”
“Oh, no. I have every reason to believe that, even that night, he had no intention of seeing any of us again.”
She marched into her office and slammed the door but with such force that it bounced back open, giving her the pleasure of slamming it again. And then she roared at the top of her lungs.
Alice had calmed down, for the most part, as she walked through the soundstage for the last time for a month. Rich’s presence near the exit startled her.
“What are you still doing here?” she asked.
“Waiting for you.”
“I guess you’ve heard.”
“About Peter? Well, I can’t say I’m sorry – or even surprised. He thinks he is too good for this.”
“This could be the end. It’s a good thing we have the Olympics. Our ratings can’t decline if we’re not on the air.”
He smiled then and stepped forward. He lifted his hand to her face and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Alice, I know we said we would wait until September, but have dinner with me tonight, just once before you leave.”
His words and his thumb rubbing her cheek confused her. “I thought you and Giselle were getting close.”
“No, of course not. We’re just friends. She’s been so upset over this break-up, I’ve been like a brother to her.”
“But –”
“I’ve been keeping my distance because you asked me to, but I’ve hated it. C’mon. Dinner.”
Tempting. Very tempting. Now she couldn’t even remember why she had decided to go to New Orleans in the first place. She closed her eyes and leaned against his hand. Oh, this could be very nice.
“Urrg,” she groaned and opened her eyes. “I wish I could. Believe me, I really do. Unfortunately, I have a six a.m. flight tomorrow, which means I have to be at the airport by four, and I haven’t even finished packing.”
He nodded and moved his hand to the back of her head. “Then a kiss goodbye?”
She dropped her purse and book and wrapped her arms around his neck, stepping into the kiss, willingly opening her mouth to him, welcoming his tongue and pressing her lips tight against his. And it was…nice.
CHAPTER 10
The Edge of Darkness
Chapter 17
I was extremely hesitant to read the reviews the morning after opening night. Actually, because of the cast party the night before, which lasted until dawn, I didn’t see the morning paper until two in the afternoon. This was my first review, and, not being one to take criticism well, I was reluctant to read it. I kept telling myself, even the best get bad reviews in the preface of their careers.
The article read, Last night I was treated – and I use the term loosely – to what might be considered a mixture of vaudeville and w
ar protests. I put the paper down. I picked it up. Curiosity might have killed the cat, but satisfaction revived him. This version of Gypsy, as seen through the eyes of producer/director Melvin Patrick, makes one think Nixon wasn’t that bad after all…The choreography was so bad, even the strippers were off beat…The lines were delivered with such monotone, it made me wonder if Rose were Camille. I put the paper down and drown this cat in coffee.
The doorbell rang. Frank Wilson, a farmboy in the cast who had been asking me out since the night of auditions, though I persistently declined, rushed in. “Hey! Congratulations!”
“Have you no respect for the dead? How dare you be so cheerful!”
“Oh, you’re just hung-over. Wait ‘til you’ve read the reviews.”
“I have. That’s why I’m in mourning.”
“Mourning? You should be celebrating! This could be the best thing ever to happen in your career.”
“Oh, yeah, bad reviews are like having one foot in the door.”
“I thought you said you read it.” He took the paper and opened it to the column.
“I did. We’re worse than Watergate.”
“You obviously didn’t finish the article.” He read, “‘The lines were delivered with such monotone, it made me wonder if Rose were Camille.’”
“I’ve already heard it. Why rub salt into open wounds?”
“‘But,’” he continued, “‘in spite of Rose’s death, Gypsy was full of life and spirit.’”
I stood up. “What?”
“‘The young actress Alex Hollingsworth made the entire play worthwhile just to see this new talent. And talented she is. Never before have I seen an actress who made me believe she was actually portraying herself. I hope we will see a lot more of Alex in the future, with or without clothes.’” I just stared in disbelief with my mouth hanging open.
Despite my good reviews, the play closed after the second performance drew an exceptionally small audience. So on I pursued my dream of acting, having little experience and one good review. Although I auditioned for Broadway shows, I would only be offered a part in the chorus, and I preferred an actual role on a smaller stage.
I auditioned for Hair off Broadway and got the part of Sheila – taking off even more clothes – receiving reviews similar to those of Gypsy. This time, however, the play finished its full run.
Next I was cast as Janet in The Rocky Horror Show. I had not had that much fun with a cast since I was in high school with Godspell. On closing night, as I sang “Touch-a, Touch-a, Touch-a, Touch Me,” I spotted the duke in the audience smiling at me. I winked at him without missing a note, then ripped off my bra.
After the curtain call, I went to my dressing room and found it filled with red roses, all from Robert, who was sitting in my room.
“I told you I would be back for you.”
“Has it been a year already?” I tried to play Miss Cool – I knew exactly how long it had been – and sat at my dressing table brushing my hair. Then I saw in the mirror I still only had on a corset, and I was completely exposed on top. I went behind the screen and took off the corset and put on a robe.
He walked up to me. “It has been the longest year of my life.” He took me in his arms and held me close. “And I still love you.”
I tried to resist at first, but then I gave in to my feelings and put my arms around him, too. I wasn’t in love with him, but I loved the fact that he was so in love with me.
“Please come back with me.”
I stepped back out of the embrace. “I can’t. I’m going to be in Jesus Christ Superstar. Rehearsals begin next week. I have the role of Mary Magdalene.”
“You cannot mean to send me away again.”
I looked into his eyes and saw such pain, all the pain I had put there, and remembered seeing that look in Tony’s eyes. “No. Never. After this play, I will go back with you. It will only be three short months. I promise.”
He ran his hand down my face and neck to the opening of my robe and brought his mouth close to mine. “How long must I wait until I can have you?”
I could feel the blood rushing to my face, and I looked away.
He pulled my robe together and pulled me to him. “Are you still my sweet, innocent Virginia girl?” I nodded. I could understand why he might not believe it, considering how he had seen me on stage. “Then I will wait for you.” He kissed me. As aggressive as he acted, I expected him to kiss me hard, but he didn’t. Instead the kiss was full of love and longing.
As promised, after the run of the play, I went with Robert to England. I hadn’t told Mother of my plans because I was afraid she would try to keep me from going. Perhaps down deep, I still had some hope she would hear from Tony, and if so, I didn’t want him thinking I was leaving him to be with another man. If he had come back, I would have broken my promise to Robert in a heartbeat and run back into Tony’s arms.
The day we got to London, I called Mother to let her know where I was.
“My children certainly are full of surprises.”
“What do you mean?”
“Tony has crawled out of the woodwork. I just found out he is running for state senate.”
I fainted. It was that simple. I was standing at the payphone at Heathrow Airport, and when she made this announcement, I passed out in Robert’s arms.
The doctor at the hospital said it was jetlag, but I knew the truth, though I couldn’t tell anyone. After all this time waiting for any word from him, two years after he disappeared, I leave the country to start a new chapter in my life, and he resurfaces running for public office.
*****
“How are you?” Eileen squealed like a ninth-grader when she opened her hotel door and found Alice on the other side.
“I’m HOT! How do you think I am? I went from the air conditioned airport to the air conditioned cab to the air conditioned hotel, and I am still drenched. I feel like I am swimming here – and look at my hair!”
Alice’s hair had curled in the humidity, and Eileen pulled down one ringlet and laughed as it bounced back. “I know women who would kill for those curls. So you’ve been to your room?”
“Yeah, it’s on the next floor up. I like we’re so close to Bourbon Street! I hope you have time to hit the bars and don’t need me to be running lines with you all the time.”
“Hardly! I have several scenes but not many lines. They’ve changed the role now from ‘old hag’ to ‘voodoo woman.’” They laughed together, but then the smile fell from Eileen’s face. “Alice, I need to talk to you about something.”
Uh-oh. How many words was that? “That doesn’t sound good.” They sat down on the bed.
“It’s about Peter. He’s here.”
“What.” Definitely a statement of disbelief and not a question.
“He told me not to say anything, but he’s the one who helped me get this role.”
“What!” Alice jumped off the bed and gaped at Eileen.
“I had been telling him how I wanted to be a character actor, and he got me the audition. I couldn’t tell you it was on his film without you figuring it out. I had no idea he was suing the network, and I didn’t think he would be here the same time as you. Do you hate me?”
“Hate you? Au contraire. This is perfect! I’m going to kill him!”
Eileen stood and took her friend’s arm. “No, no. Please don’t. At least not until after production. I don’t want to lose this part. There’s no reason for you even to see each other. He never goes out with us, and he and I only have a few scenes together.”
Alice rubbed her eye and temple. “Oh, don’t worry. I would never do anything to jeopardize your career. But if I’m still here when the film wraps, you better believe he’s going to get it.”
Alice’s stay in New Orleans fell into an easy routine of eating too much rich food, partying all night with the cast and crew, drinking far too many cocktails, and being too hot and miserable during the day to move any faster than a slug. It was perfection. Plus, all of Eileen�
��s scenes had been filmed in the French Quarter while Peter filmed at a plantation house up river, so she had not even seen him.
She heard about him, though. Eileen had become fast friends with Evan, the flamboyant costume designer on the film, and he loved gossip. His latest scoop was the torrid love affair between Peter and Cleo Crandell, the young lead actress in the film.
“There is no doubt,” he told them as he held various dresses up to Eileen with Alice sitting near, watching. “They are definitely doing the nasty. That’s why they never come out of that hotel.”
“Maybe they’re just trying to stay cool,” Alice said.
“Uh-uh. Two nights in a row, they have holed up in his suite and had romantic dinners brought in.”
“Ha! Poor Winnie.”
“I do feel sorry for Winnie,” Eileen said. “You know this is going to hit the tabloids. I wonder why she didn’t come down with him.”
“I think COD is back in production. I don’t feel sorry for her. She’s getting a taste of her own medicine after splitting up Peter’s marriage. My mother always said, ‘Once a cheater, always a cheater.’”
“You know that’s right,” Evan said.
“Well, we have our first scene together tomorrow,” Eileen said. “What’re you going to do? Would you rather he not know you’re here?”
“Who? Peter?” asked Evan. “He already knows Alice is here.”
“What?” Eileen and Alice asked together.
“Mmm-hmm. The others were talking about how you have been going out every night, and he asked if they were talking about Alice McGillicutty.”
Alice rolled her eyes. “Great. I can only imagine what he had to say about me.”
“Actually, the only thing I heard him say was that he hoped you were being careful. Waaait…Did you two…?”
“What? No. Oh no. Ours was a professional relationship that did not end well.”
“Well, he doesn’t seem to have held a grudge.”
“He has no reason to! He is the offending party here.”
The Proud and the Prejudiced: A Modern Twist on Pride and Prejudice Page 10
