Course of Action

by Gun Brooke

  “Yes.” Annelie eyed him with unease. Could this get any worse?

  “Sylvia Goodman is here too.”

  “Here? Do you mean in town, or here at the hotel?” Annelie groaned inwardly.

  “She’s at the hotel and she has convention tickets. I think she was hoping to steal the show.”

  Annelie smiled. In a mess like this what else could one do? “Well, she was just outplayed. We all were.”

  *

  Taking a deep breath to calm down, Annelie knocked on the door to the Presidential Suite. After a moment’s silence she heard rapid steps from inside. As Carolyn opened the door, the actress’s smile was in place.

  “Annelie! So you’ve arrived. Please come in.” Gesturing for Annelie to enter, Carolyn looked every bit the gracious hostess.

  In the suite I booked. Annelie was fuming. “I see you’ve made yourself comfortable,” she murmured between gritted teeth. “How did you persuade them to let you into the Presidential Suite?” She walked inside, placing her briefcase on the floor to stake her own claim.

  “I merely assumed it was a mistake on your part to not invite me to the convention.” Carolyn’s eyes grew wide in mock disbelief. “When I told them who I was, and that I was your personal guest, they scrambled to accommodate me.”

  “I bet. Nothing like a little name-dropping, right?”

  Looking around, Annelie was impressed with the accommodations. The Presidential Suite was luxurious. Complimentary fruit, chocolate, and champagne were displayed in the living room, and everything they could possibly need was either there or just a phone call away. She looked through the open doors leading into large bedrooms, each with a king-size bed.

  “I’m sorry for any misunderstanding, but you’re not my personal guest, so you’ll just have to get another room.”

  “And we both know there are no vacancies at the hotel. I have nowhere to go.”

  Setting the stakes, are we, Carolyn? “There are other hotels nearby.”

  “They’re full too. Not even a motel room in sight, I’m afraid.” Carolyn probably knew better than to sound triumphant. Instead she had the good taste to pretend to be regretful.

  Annelie moved past the other woman, their shoulders brushing, and walked over to the panoramic window. She could smell Carolyn’s musk-and-sandalwood perfume, so familiar by now. Refusing to let her body react, she stood by the window for a moment, faking an interest in the view over Orlando while she gathered herself.

  Eventually she pivoted, pressing her lips to a fine line. “The reservation is in my name.” She was surprised at the ice in her voice. “I could have you thrown out.”

  “You wouldn’t do that.” Carolyn’s smoky, velvety voice wrapped around Annelie. “You wouldn’t humiliate me like that.”

  Damn you. “You placed all your bets on my benevolence. I resent being taken advantage of.” The constriction in Annelie’s throat made it hard to speak. “This is a clever plan. No doubt Parker masterminded it.”

  “He did what you should’ve done. He informed me of the convention, and we agreed I should be here. The fans want me here.”

  “The fans are here to meet some of the stars and try to find out who’ll play Maddox. Not necessarily you.”

  “That’s bull.” Carolyn’s face darkened. “You weren’t here when I arrived yesterday. The way the fans received me in the lobby says it all. They see me as Maddox. No one else, and certainly not a silicone-enhanced starlet.”

  Wanting to groan out loud at the manipulative woman in front of her, Annelie clenched her fists. “You’re forcing my hand and I don’t like it.”

  “I have to! You’re making a mistake if you think anyone else can portray Maddox the way I can. You’re blinded by the talk of money, investments, marketing…You have to listen to your heart, and then you’ll know what the right course of action is.”

  Carolyn’s voice lost its animated tone. Her eyes turned bluer than Annelie had ever seen them as the actress seemed to speak from the heart. “You know the stories about Maddox better than most. You discovered Delia Carlton and published her books. Don’t let any Hollywood moguls run over you. Trust your instincts.” Carolyn paused, raising a hand as if to touch Annelie, but lowered it again. “Then, if you still can see someone like Goodman in the role…I guess there’s nothing I can do about that.”

  She’s reading my mind. Annelie studied the expression on Carolyn’s beautiful face for a few more seconds. Was she acting? Was that impassioned plea just part of her diva routine?

  “You’ve left us with little choice but to put you onstage tomorrow,” she said stiffly. “People in the hotel think you’re the main event.”

  “Yes. They do. And you hate me for it.” Sorrow was hidden in the other woman’s stubborn voice.

  Wincing, Annelie shook her head. “I don’t hate you.” How could I? Annelie pulled herself together, keeping her voice matter of fact. “We have to share the suite. Which one is free?”

  “Excuse me? Oh, you mean which bedroom? I’m in the one to the far right.”

  Annelie chose a room to the left, placing her briefcase on the bed inside. She dialed the front desk and asked for someone to bring her luggage up. As she glanced over her shoulder, she studied Carolyn through the open door. The actress looked a little weary, she thought, as she walked back out into the living room. Standing just behind Carolyn, she watched as street lights began to light up, drawing dotted lines in the distance. Suddenly Carolyn’s conniving actions seemed temporarily unimportant.

  “What’s wrong?” Annelie kept her voice low, as if speaking softly would make the question less intrusive.

  “I’m fine…I…” The other woman seemed at a loss for words. “An angel walking over my grave, that’s all. Suddenly I’m nervous as hell.”

  There was a brief silence after the rare admission.

  “You’re betting the role of a lifetime, as well as your immediate future, on one card. Seeing all these fans downstairs, rooting for you, made you think this would work out.”

  Carolyn pivoted quickly, almost losing her balance. Annelie automatically reached out and steadied her, putting both hands on the actress’s shoulders. Her palms tingled instantly, making her shudder.

  “You’re right.” Carolyn sounded surprised. “That’s exactly it. How did you know? And why are you being nice when you’re so mad at me?”

  Annelie lowered her hands, letting them slide down Carolyn’s bare arms before clasping them behind her back. Why did I do that? Like a caress, for heaven’s sake!

  “I’m trying very hard to distinguish between our professional relationship and…” She swallowed hard, not wanting to show just how conflicted she was. “…and a potential friendship. You’re skating on thin ice. I don’t like being manipulated, especially by someone I’ve begun to actually…”

  Annelie stopped short of admitting just how much she’d started to like Carolyn. Right now, she thought she could detect the vulnerable private person behind the diva persona, but…How can I be sure? She could be acting her little calculating heart out right now. Still, there’s that haunted expression in her eyes. Can a person fake that?

  “As I said before, we have to put you onstage since we can’t disappoint the fans,” Annelie continued, smiling faintly. Feeling tired, she was suddenly desperate to lighten the mood. She was still upset, and she knew it shone through as she lifted a hand in a dismissive gesture. “There’ll be a question-and-answer session tonight.”

  “I’ll be there. What will be expected of me? I mean, by the fans.”

  Refraining from a curt reply to hide the tremor in her voice, Annelie pulled herself together. “Just go out there and be the star. Let’s be honest, Carolyn—you do that so well.”

  *

  It was quite the entrance. Carefully orchestrated and with finesse, Sylvia Goodman sashayed into the hotel restaurant, her long blond hair in perfect ruffled waves. Glancing around the room, she let her publicist speak to the head waiter.

 
; “Never mind. I see her!” Sylvia suddenly exclaimed, homing in on Annelie sitting alone at a table in the corner. “Ms. Peterson! How delightful to meet you.”

  A tad on the theatrical side. “Ms. Goodman, it’s great to finally meet you too.” Annelie extended a hand and was not surprised that Sylvia’s grip was loose and quick. “What a surprise to find you here at the Maddox convention. I understand you’ve bought tickets to all events.”

  “I sure have.” The breathless voice, normally high pitched, was toned down to a level Annelie guessed was supposed to be sultry.

  No doubt the voice coach had been listening to Carolyn on the audiobooks. The result was as if the young actress did some sort of strange impersonation. Surely she doesn’t think it sounds sexy? Realizing she was not being fair, Annelie tried to gauge the eager starlet from an objective standpoint.

  Sylvia Goodman’s body had clearly been sculpted by Hollywood’s, or perhaps Fifth Avenue’s, best plastic surgeons. Her breasts were not too big, but just right for her slender frame. Her bottom was high and firm, with no excess weight in sight. The tight-fitting jacket and skirt, over a blouse with a plunging neckline, left very little to Annelie’s imagination. Creamy white skin glimmered, and she wore Obsession, a perfume that would soon give Annelie a headache.

  “Please sit down. I’ve ordered already.” Because you’re twenty minutes late.

  Sylvia ordered a salad and water, only pushing the food around when it arrived. Instead the actress focused all her attention on Annelie. Speaking about Diana Maddox’s character, she sounded knowledgeable, obviously well read on the subject.

  “I believe the actress who’ll portray Maddox needs to do extensive research as a criminal investigator. I’ve got a friend in Seattle who dates a police officer. He put me in contact with their investigation unit, and I spent two days with them. All the guys there were so attentive and helpful.”

  Somehow Annelie found it hard to concentrate. Wondering briefly how much Sylvia could have picked up being admired by male cops, she tried to picture her as Maddox. With the right makeup, the younger woman could perhaps look the part, but the voice was all wrong. Too bright, too breathless, and not at all like the dark, velvet huskiness Annelie associated with the tough character in Delia’s books. She sounds nothing like Carolyn. She may be younger, perhaps even more beautiful, in a smooth, wrinkle-free kind of way. But she’s not right. Leaning back in her chair, Annelie let Sylvia continue with her interpretation of the role.

  “I think Maddox should be sexier than she was in the audiobooks. No critique on your judgment when choosing actors, but Maddox is a tough woman in a man’s world. She needs to play on her femininity more.”

  Was Sylvia suggesting Maddox should flaunt herself among her male colleagues? Oh, God. One of the things that had attracted Annelie to Delia’s novels was the self-assurance of Maddox, her what-you-see-is-what-you-get attitude, which fell apart when her attraction to Erica Becker became apparent. She was not a tease, and Maddox surely didn’t flaunt herself to anybody.

  “When is a good time for me to read for the role?” Sylvia came right out and asked.

  Taken aback by the actress’s straightforward display of confidence, Annelie thought quickly. Even if she couldn’t see this woman as Maddox, she might be wrong. Perhaps Sylvia Goodman possessed the skill to create a Maddox completely different from Carolyn’s take, but just as good. And every suit involved in the project wanted her.

  “Why not Tuesday? Can you be in Miami then?”

  “Sure. For this role, I can be anywhere.” A broad smile showed even, white caps, rendering Sylvia’s a camera-perfect smile.

  “Hello, Annelie.”

  The unexpected sound of Maddox’s—no, Carolyn’s voice, of course—made Annelie sit up ramrod straight.

  “Carolyn. Hello.” Momentarily stumped, she looked from one actress to the other. “Sylvia, this is Carolyn Black. Carolyn, meet Sylvia Goodman, a colleague of yours.”

  Carolyn’s demeanor didn’t change. Looking at the younger woman, she smiled politely and extended a hand. “Welcome to Orlando and the Maddox convention. How nice of you to drop in, Ms. Goodman.”

  Sylvia’s eyes widened. “Thank you, Ms. Black. Please, call me Sylvia. I’m too young to be uptight about titles.”

  “Then call me Carolyn, Sylvia.”

  Annelie could have sworn there were icicles hanging from Carolyn’s words.

  “I’m a huge fan,” Sylvia gushed, pointing at a chair. “Won’t you join us?”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t have time. I have errands to run before I participate in tonight’s major event.”

  “Yes, I heard you were speaking. What a great way to say goodbye to the audience.” Sylvia’s smile became razor sharp. “Your career has been so inspirational and a wonderful motivator for me. It’s great that you can still find challenging parts at this late stage in your professional life.”

  Holding her breath, Annelie darted a look at Carolyn, stunned to watch her eyes turn slate gray. “Yes, it’s a welcome development when the moguls in Hollywood and Broadway realize that an actress with talent, no matter her age, is worth much more than a young starlet who slept her way to her position.”

  Wanting to hide her face in her palms and groan out loud, Annelie refrained from both, watching the two women stare at each other. On the surface they maintained their composure, but the undercurrent was wild and unbending. Wondering if the rest of the lunch guests were going to witness an honest-to-God catfight for free, Annelie sighed with relief when Carolyn suddenly laughed and shook her head.

  “Well, I’m off to find as stunning a dress as I can possibly scare up at the last minute.” She placed a soft hand on Annelie’s shoulder, its warmth permeating the thin shirt and making Annelie jump. “I’ll see you later in the suite, then.”

  “Yes, see you later.”

  Flustered, Annelie saw Sylvia’s jaw drop. Wanting to throttle Carolyn, but at the same time forced to admire how her roommate had handled the situation, she speared another shrimp from her salad. “You were saying about the screen test, Sylvia?” Frowning at the menacing look in the actress’s eyes as they followed the disappearing competitor for the role, Annelie tried again. “Sylvia? The screen test?”

  Turning her attention back to Annelie, Sylvia altered her expression completely. All smiles and charm, she gushed in her breathless voice, “That’s right. I know I can convince you…”

  Annelie’s mind drowned out Sylvia’s words with Carolyn’s voice. Low and with a definite purr, along with the soft touch, it made it impossible for her to think of anything else.

  *

  “Ladies and gentlemen, I’d like to introduce the woman who made all this happen. Delia Carlton wrote the books”—Gregory was interrupted by the roar echoing through the large auditorium when the audience acknowledged the mention of the author’s name—“but had this lady not seen the genius, the potential, in Ms. Carlton’s manuscript, who knows? So put your hands together as the owner of Key Line Publishing joins us to introduce the next guest. Here she is—Annelie Peterson!”

  Annelie felt a rush of awkwardness as she walked onto the stage. The large audience rose in their seats, and she was met by thundering applause, whistles, and cheers. The noise went on for half a minute before she raised her hands to calm the crowd.

  “Thank you, thank you very much. Please take a seat. Thank you.” She paused as people sat down. “Wow, that’s some welcome—and I haven’t really done anything apart from printing the books.” Loud cheers erupted again, and Annelie smiled, shaking her head. “Thank you again. Now, I have two treats for you. First, I have a message for you from someone who has chosen not to be a public figure.”

  Annelie glanced to the left, searching for Carolyn among the faces in the wing. She could not spot her but knew she was out there, probably pacing back and forth, focusing hard and looking pale, like she had been doing only a minute ago. She came here on her own volition, forcing her participation on all
of us. Why should I worry whether she’s pale and nervous? Pulling out a piece of paper, Annelie read a short message from the author of the Maddox books, making the audience go wild again.

  “We are taping parts of this convention, and I’ll be sure to send a copy to Delia. Am I wrong in assuming you’re having a great time?” The audience applauded and cheered again as Annelie pulled the microphone from its stand. “Have all of you listened to the Maddox audiobooks?” The crowd went wild as the majority yelled yes. “Then you know who the star of these books is. You’ve already met the lovely Helen St. Cyr, and now it’s time to introduce…”

  Annelie glanced to her left, seeing Gregory give a thumbs-up.

  “…the lady who gave Diana Maddox her first voice. Please welcome Carolyn Black!”

  The response from the audience was deafening as Carolyn stepped onstage. Walking toward Annelie, the actress surprised her by wrapping her in an embrace and kissing her on both cheeks before taking over the microphone. What was that about? Annelie raised a hand as if to touch her cheek but quickly turned it into a wave while walking hastily out of sight of the audience. Was that for show? Or for me?

  “Thank you, everyone.” The trademark throaty voice rose over the whistles and cheers. “I’m so glad to be here among you. Thank you!”

  Annelie was relieved to be back in the wings again. Standing as close as possible without being seen, she watched Carolyn in action as the applause slowly dissipated. The audience seemed ecstatic, cheering loudly as Carolyn posed. Red highlights sparkled in her auburn hair, and her pale complexion, emphasized by skillfully applied makeup, made her look beautiful and fragile at the same time.

  Photo flashes hammered the actress as she stood center stage. Waving at the audience, she raised the microphone to her lips again. “Can we make a deal, my friends? How about I walk slowly along the stage and give you the opportunity to take pictures; then you won’t have to do it while we talk. The flashes blind me, and I want to be able to see you lovely people.”