City of Mirrors Read Free

Maybe there’s something we can use from it.” Finished with me, he strode away.
    I wondered whether Zaitlin really thought I was good, or whether he was just saying that to get me to help Jenny. Compliments in Hollywood are handed out by the bagful, like Halloween candy. It’s never been easy for me to completely accept them, because I’m always searching for the one that has the poison in it.

CHAPTER THREE
    J enny and I had trailers—our dressing rooms—in the alley next to the stage. I knocked on her door, opened it, and peered inside. Already dressed in her street clothes, she wore a short black leather skirt, black tank top, and a lush emerald green cashmere-wrap sweater. She looked not only sexy but also her age. As if she didn’t care or didn’t want to look at her reflection, she sat with her back to a large mirror surrounded by lights. She was talking on her cell. When she saw me she quickly disconnected.
    â€œSorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” I said. “May I come in?”
    â€œAre you going to lecture me?” She dropped her phone into a very expensive leather purse that was slouched on the makeup counter.
    â€œI’m not your mother. I only play her.” I stepped up into the trailer and closed the door behind me.
    â€œIf you can call that a mother.” She snorted, baring small sharp teeth. She was oddly beautiful, like a pretty animal. But nonetheless an animal.
    Sitting down on the built-in sofa, I glimpsed myself in the mirror. Out from under the set lights, my makeup looked harsh, exaggerating the lines on my face.
    I pulled off my wig. “God, this is giving me a headache.” My own hair was bound flat to my head with a gauzy net. Jenny eyed me warily as I took that off too and dumped it inside the wig. Then I shook my hair loose and asked casually, “Want to have dinner tonight?”
    â€œCan’t. Going clubbing.” She shot me a hard look. “And why would you want to suddenly have dinner with me?”
    â€œIs too much clubbing the reason you’re having trouble remembering your lines?” I rubbed my scalp and fluffed my hair.
    â€œThe assistant director told me I won’t be needed tomorrow, and is it any of your business what I do?” Her chin jutted defiantly.
    I thought about telling her that making a movie was a group effort, each person dependent on the other for success. But I decided that concept wouldn’t have much meaning to her. She seemed to be a very insular young woman. She sat on the set observing, never entering the camaraderie that formed among the actors and the crew.
    â€œYes, I do think it’s my business,” I said flatly. “I want this movie to work because I’m good in it and it will help my career so I can get another role and another, thereby earning money so I can eat and live. In other words, I’m a professional actress.”
    She laughed a surprisingly deep harsh laugh. “I heard you gave up your career to get married. Doesn’t sound too professional to me.”
    Trying to control my temper, I leaned back and stroked my wig as if it were an agitated pet dog I had to calm. “I made a choice knowing I couldn’t do both well.”
    But was that true? I remembered my mother, my husband, Colin, and I sitting on the beach one afternoon. We had watched a pelican high in the summer sky spot a fish, then tuck its long wings to its sides and drop like a guided missile into the ocean.
    â€œOnly hunger can teach you to do that,” Mother had observed, squinting into the sun, her hair as determinedly blond as mine is now. “I had that kind of hunger. I would’ve done anything to be a star. And did.”
    â€œI never had that kind of hunger,” I said.
    â€œNo, you didn’t.” Colin had hugged me.
    Now Jenny said, “So you chose the man over acting. And you come in here blaming me for potentially hurting your career? I