by Gayla Twist
“Well, you’ve got to be pleased with the night so far. I just gave your organization a plug which will probably land in the papers, and you gave James Michaelmus your card. That might lead to an endorsement or something.”
Margot gave him a confused look. “When did I do that?” She thought she’d only handed out her card to the balding, sweaty guy.
“Oh, come on. I saw you do it,” Noah exclaimed. “The way he was leering at you, I thought I might have to defend your honor or something.”
It occurred to her that Noah might be referring to the balding, sweaty guy. “That guy?” Margot exclaimed. “He’s just some weirdo. I didn’t want to give him my card, but couldn’t think of a way out of it. You don’t think he’ll call, do you?”
Noah began chuckling, his face turning a shade of pink. “That happens to be a Hollywood legend.” He kept laughing as Margot tried to puzzle out who he was.
Finally, when she managed to match the actor to a few of his more famous roles, she had to remark, “Wow, most celebrities look a lot different in person.” She wondered if she would recognize Noah in one of his films. Probably, she concluded. He was naturally handsome and more than likely wasn’t buried under a pound of makeup when the cameras started rolling.
For some reason, everyone at the party suddenly decided to join them in the VIP lounge. It became unreasonably crowded. The band began to play louder, and the dance floor became a sea of people. “I think we’ve probably seen the best of it,” Noah said, raising his voice to be heard over the crowd. “Would you like to stay and people watch, or are you ready to go?”
In answer, Margot picked up her purse and got to her feet. She wasn’t big on crowds, and she’d absorbed about as much glamour as she could for one evening. When they headed out the door, Ophelia was still greeting people as they came in. “That must get boring,” Margot noted, mostly to herself. But the actress was still smiling and feigning delight with each new face that appeared before her. “Should we say good night or anything?” Margot wanted to know.
“I don’t’ think so,” was Noah’s reply. “Dealing with people both coming and going sounds too hectic. Let’s give her a break.”
Just then, Ophelia caught sight of them from across the room. She raised her chin toward Noah in recognition, and he returned the gesture with a small wave. Then the actress’s eyes slid over to Margot for a second. Margot returned a steady gaze and then nodded, wondering if she’d be stuck with some ridiculous diamond or if she would ever see her grandmother’s mantón again.
Near the door was the gift-bag table with a smiling young woman behind it handing the goodies out. “A lot of times I don’t take these,” Noah said to Margot in a low voice. “Usually, it’s just advertising junk. I mean, I don’t need the new energy drink or perfume sample.” Margot had to agree. “But sometimes they’re really good,” Noah went on as the beaming young woman handed the actor two gift bags without even glancing in Margot’s direction. “Ophelia’s known to get a little outrageous. Sometimes she’ll slip something really nice into just a few of the bags, so it’s kind of like a lottery.”
“Seriously?” Margot peered into the fancy blue bag that Noah had passed over to her.
“Yeah, I heard a crew guy say he once found a Rolex.”
“A Rolex?” Margot had to wonder at the thought process behind giving away such a luxury item like it was a free sample at Trader Joe’s. “If I find a Rolex, then hello, eBay,” she said, mostly to herself. Noah shot her a small grin.
Chapter 9
Once Aaron had pulled the car up and they were comfortably in the backseat, Margot said, “Don’t think I’m a total goon, but would you mind if I looked in my gift bag right now?” With an embarrassed giggle, she added, “I’ve never actually had a real gift bag before, and I feel a bit like a kid at Christmas.”
“Sure,” Noah said, more than happy to indulge her. “Aaron, would you just pull around the corner, please? We’ll tell you where we want to go in a minute.”
Margot noted that Noah was courteous to the driver, treating him more as a casual friend than an employee. She liked that about him. His manners made him even more attractive, if that was humanly possible. Brushing off the thought, Margot delved into her gift bag, Noah happily joining her with his own.
“Spanx,” Margot said, fishing out the first item. “Ophelia is seriously giving people Spanx? Does that seem kind of weird to you?”
“I’m sure a lot of the stuff in there just got added by some marketing company,” he assured her.
“I like the fact that they’re a size small. So, we’re telling you that you need a girdle, but we don’t want to insult you by giving you a size large.”
The next surprise was a small box of chocolates. “With real gold leaf,” Margot read from the top of the box. “And a coupon for another pound of chocolate,” she noted, after reading further. “I’m not sure how much gold leaf I actually need to ingest, but I guess this explains the reason for the Spanx.” They both giggled. “What did you get?” she asked.
“Let’s see,” Noah said, rummaging around in his bag. “I didn’t get Spanx, but here’s a pot of some kind of face cream. Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s nice. Oh, look…” he said, pulling out a small square box with a bow on it.
“Did you just win the Ophelia Blain lottery?” Margot asked.
He smiled and tried to hand it to her. “No, you did.”
“I couldn’t,” she said, shaking her head. “It was in your bag; you open it.”
Noah flipped open the lid to reveal a pair of gold dangle earrings in the shape of crescent moons, channel set with small diamonds. “These are definitely for you,” he said. When she was about to launch another protest with some argument about how he could give them to one of his sisters, he cut her off with, “I insist. You deserve something pretty after all of the hard work you do.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, touching one of the small moons. They really were quite pretty. She couldn’t believe he just gave them to her. “Besides my grandmother’s mantón, they’re the nicest thing anyone’s ever given me.”
“Where to next?” Aaron asked, turning in his seat. There was a cop behind them flashing his lights for them to move on.
“I’m not sure,” Noah replied. He turned to his date. “Any thoughts?”
It was almost midnight, and Margot knew at some point jet lag was going to whip the rug out from under her and she would suddenly be unreasonably sleepy. “Home, I guess,” she said with a small shrug.
“Okay.” Noah nodded, giving her a contemplative look as Aaron pulled out into traffic. “Did you at least of fun?”
“Of course! I had a wonderful time,” she assured him. “To be honest with you, this was the most glamorous night of my life.”
“You’re kidding. Better than prom?” he asked, with a teasing smile.
“Way better than prom,” she said with a laugh. “Have you ever been to a prom? So not as glamorous, and you think it’s going to be. And my date didn’t even want to dance. Not even to a slow song.”
“I didn’t go to my prom,” he said, making a face. “I was kind of a geek in high school.”
“You’re kidding.” Margot let out a bright trill of laughter. “Think of all those poor girls kicking themselves every time they see you on the big screen.”
“You know, if you want a little glamour in your life, I can definitely provide that,” Noah told her. “I mean, I get invited to openings and parties and stuff all the time.”
“Don’t you usually accept?”
“No.” He shook his head. “Once you’ve been to a bunch they can get a little boring. I usually don’t have much of a reason to go.”
“I’m not sure how me tagging along is going to change that.”
He lowered his voice and gave her a shy smile. “You make everything more fun.”
“Oh,” Margot mumbled, feeling herself flush crimson. Even her ears felt hot. “I um… I really had fun, too.” Maybe
he did like her. Maybe it actually was a date kind of date.
Just then, Aaron pulled up in front of Margot’s apartment complex. “Don’t get up. I’ll get it,” Noah told the driver. “I’m going to walk Margot to her door.”
Margot’s first impulse was to blurt, “Don’t be silly. I’m perfectly capable of getting to my own door.” But she managed to stifle herself before the words reached her lips. She knew Babs would be proud of her.
Noah opened her door and held out his hand to her. Grabbing her purse and her gift bag with her left hand, Margot reached for him with her right, hoping he wouldn’t notice she was trembling slightly. They headed slowly up the walk to the front door of the building, still hand in hand. “So,” Noah began. “How much do you know about me?”
Margot gave him a curious look. “Just what you’ve told me, I guess. I’m not sure what you mean.”
“How much do you know about my love life?” he persisted, although it was obvious he was uncomfortable.
“Oh.” Margot wondered what was the correct answer. As usual, she went with honesty. “Babs told me you had kind of a lousy breakup a few months ago, but I don’t really know the details. I’m not much of a gossip monger, if that’s any help.”
“Yeah.” Noah let out a long sigh. “I thought we were in love, and Serena thought I was a nice stepping stone for her career. When it ended, it was pretty damn ugly. I guess she’s a good actress because I had no idea.”
“I’m sorry to hear that happened to you,” she told him. “I know sometimes Hollywood couples get together to bolster each other’s careers, but I always assumed both parties were in on it.”
“That’s why with you it’s so great,” he said, placing her gift bag and purse on the front step before taking her other hand.
This is it, Margot thought to herself. He’s going to kiss me. It’s like a fairytale. I can’t believe this is happening. I can’t believe this is my life.
She waited for him to say something more or kiss her or anything, but he just stood there, the smile melting off his face. “Is everything all right?” Margot asked after several moments of awkward silence.
“Fine,” he said. “I just… No, it’s fine. I hope you enjoyed yourself. I’ll see you at the fundraiser. Good night.” With that, he turned and walked quickly back to the car, getting in without a second glance in her direction.
Margot stood there, a bit mystified. “What was that all about?” she wondered aloud. “What did I do wrong?”
Chapter 10
Babs practically pounced on her when she entered their apartment. “How was it?” she demanded. “Did you have fun? Did he kiss you? Are you going to see him again?”
“I did have fun,” Margot told her. “I thought maybe he was going to kiss me, but then he didn’t.” Sinking onto their battered couch, she concluded with, “And I have no idea if I’m going to see him again.”
Babs sat down beside her. “Tell me everything. No detail is too small.”
Margot was completely honest with Babette about the whole evening. When she got to the Ophelia Blain part, at first her roommate was excited that she got to meet such a ridiculously famous star, but after hearing the full details, she made a face. “Bet you’re sorry you helped her out then.”
“Not yet,” Margot told her. “But I will be if I can’t get my property back.” She had made Babs swear that she wouldn’t tell anyone the story, not even as fun gossip at work. Fun gossip had a way of spreading around, especially in LA, and Margot didn’t want to get mired in some tawdry scandal about Ophelia’s reproductive cycle.
“Holy cow!” Babs exclaimed after asking to see the ring. “And this is the smallest diamond she had? I could park my car on that thing.”
“I know.” Margot admired the sparkler on her hand.
“What are we going to do if Ophelia Blain actually shows up here?” Babette asked, gesturing at their slightly dilapidated apartment. “Maybe we should redecorate or something.”
“I don’t care what she thinks of where we live,” Margot told her roommate. “I mean, what does that really matter? What’s important is that I try to persuade her to care about…”
“Oh, don’t tell me you’re going to come after her to help out with your cause,” Babs said, rolling her eyes.
“Of course I am. She’s filthy rich and throws money around like it’s nothing. She could at least write me a check.”
“Maybe you’ll get lucky and she’ll lose your contact information or something like that. That rock’s a down payment on a house. You could hock it, bust a whole bunch of girls out of the brothels, and still have change left for a new wardrobe.”
“She knows I was Noah’s date, so I’m sure she could track me down. Besides, I don’t want to keep this thing,” she said, sliding the ring off her finger. “It makes me nervous just having it in the apartment.”
The name “Noah” broke Babs away from staring at the diamond. “So finish the story about your date. What else happened?”
“Hmmm…” Babs said after she’d heard every scrap of the story. “What a weird ending to a wonderful night. Why do you think he took off like that?”
“I have no idea,” Margot said with a sad little shrug. “I know it sounds pathetic, but I was really starting to think he actually liked me.”
“He did like you,” Babette insisted. “I could tell by the way he looked at you when he came to pick you up. I wonder what happened to freak him out. Let me smell your breath.”
“No.”
“Come on.” Babs goaded her. “We’ve got to start crossing things off the list. We might as well start with the most obvious.”
After Margot exhaled in her face, Babs drew her conclusions. “Nope, you’re nice and fresh. So that’s not it.” She thought for a minute. “You didn’t fart in front of him or anything, did you? Because that’s not first-date behavior.”
“No, I didn’t fart,” Margot said, taking a swat at her.
“Just checking.”
By two in the morning, Margot couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer, and they were no closer to solving the mystery of Noah’s sudden cold snap. “I’m going to bed,” Margot said groggily as she teetered toward her bedroom. She didn’t want to dissect her actions anymore. It was making her feel bad. Maybe Noah was just one of those guys who pour on the charm until the girl becomes interested and then turns tail and runs. It’s not like there weren’t plenty of them in Los Angeles.
Margot woke up nine hours later to her cell phone ringing. She had a low-grade headache and was having trouble finding her purse. Babs had, for some reason, left a paper next to her bed, using her purse to prop it up. The caller had hung up by the time she located the ringing. Why the heck was Babs sneaking in to her room to leave a paper? It was one of those trashy celebrity papers that showed celebrity kids and unflattering photos of stars in their bikinis. “Are Spanish Shawls the Next Big Thing?” the headline demanded, accompanied by a photo of Ophelia Blain posing with Margot’s mantón.
“That was fast,” she mumbled to herself a little incredulously. It figured that Ophelia’s near disaster had ended with her starting a trend.
Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, Margot examined her phone. Someone had called three times in the last few hours, but never left a message. It was an LA area code, but not the number Noah had used when he’d called.
She hit the call-back button and waited. Her call was answered on the first ring. “Ophelia Blain’s assistant,” a strained young woman’s voice said in a rapid-fire pattern.
“Oh, hi. This is Margot Hernandez.” When that brought no response, she added. “I met Ophelia last night. She borrowed my shawl.”
“Yes, thank you for calling me back,” the woman said as if trained in speed talking.
There was a sharp, staccato rapping on the front door. “Um, I’m sorry; could you please hold a minute? Someone’s at my door.” Margot got up and hurriedly put on her robe. She knew Babs was probably already at work and was m
aybe expecting a package or something.
“I’ll be right with you,” she said into her cell, and she quickly shuffled across the apartment and pulled open the door to reveal a petite young woman in sky high heels, sprayed-on jeans, a button-down beige blouse, and her hair pulled back into a bun. She was holding a cell phone in one hand and clenched in a wad in the other was Margot’s grandmother’s mantón.
“Thank you for returning my call,” the young woman said, slipping her cell phone into her bag and providing no information as to how she got in the building. “I’m very busy, so let’s just make this exchange, and I’ll be on my way.” She tried to enter the apartment, but Margot blocked her way. It was LA, after all, and no matter where you lived, it was never smart to let random people just waltz into your home.
“Excuse me. Who are you?” Margot asked.
“I’m Ophelia Blain’s assistant,” was the crisp, irritated reply.
“I didn’t ask what you did for a living; I asked who you are. You have a name, don’t you?” Margot wondered, and not for the first time, why it seemed to be her job to school Los Angelinos in manners.
“Crystal,” the young woman said after blinking at her repeatedly. “My name is Crystal and Ms. Blain sent me here to return your shawl and pick up her diamond.”
“She makes you call her Ms. Blain?”
Crystal blinked rapid fire a few more times before giving a slight nod.
Margot reached for her mantón. “And did she tell you this was how you were supposed to return my property? All wadded up and wrinkled. I mean, I wasn’t expecting Ophelia to have it dry cleaned or anything, but she could have been at least a little considerate.”
Ophelia Blain’s assistant rolled her eyes. “It’s just a shawl.”
“No, it’s not just a shawl,” Margot snapped. She ran her fingers carefully over the material, looking for snags in the embroidery or tears in the fabric. “My grandmother hand stitched this when she was a young woman living in Spain. It was one of the few possessions she brought with her when she immigrated to America. She took care of it her whole life, and then my mother took care of it, and then me, but less than twenty-four hours with Ophelia Blain and it’s a wadded-up mess.”
