Emmie."
"Younger?" she had shouted. "For God's sake, Alison, I'm thirty-eight. The mother in the series has a twelve-year-old daughter. And I look good. You know I do."
"Don't yell at me," Alison had shouted back. "I'm doing my best to convince them to keep you. As for looking good, between laser-surgery and botox and face-lifts, everybody in this business looks good. That's why it's so hard to cast anyone as a grandmother. Nobody looks like one anymore."
We agreed to come to the reunion together, Laura thought. Alison told me that, according to the list of classmates who'd responded yes, Gordon Amory would be here, and apparently he just bought into Maximum. She said that he had enough influence to help me keep the job, assuming he could be convinced to use his power.
She had pushed and pushed Alison to call Gordie right away and make him force Maximum to accept her for the role. Finally Alison had said, "First of all, don't call him Gordie. He hates it. Second, I was trying to be tactful, something as you well know I rarely trouble to be. I'll say it straight. You're still beautiful, but you're not much of an actress. The people at Maximum think this series could turn out to be a real hit, but not with you in it. Maybe Gordon can change their minds. You can charm him. He had a crush on you, didn't he?"
The bellman had gone down the hall to fill the ice bucket. Now he tapped on the door and came back in. Without even thinking, Laura had already opened her purse and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill. His fervent "Thanks so much, Ms. Wilcox," made her wince. Once again she had played the big shot. Ten bucks would have been plenty.
Gordie Amory had been one of the guys who'd had a really big crush on her when they were at Stonecroft. Who'd have guessed that he'd end up such a big shot? God, you never know, Laura thought as she unzipped the garment bag. We should all have a crystal ball to look into the future.
The closet was small. Small room. Small windows. Dark brown carpet, brown upholstered chair, bedspread in tones of pumpkin and brown. Impatiently, Laura pulled out the cocktail dresses and evening suit she'd carried in the garment bag. She already knew that she'd wear the Chanel tonight. Go for glitter. Knock them dead. Look successful, even if you are behind in your taxes and the IRS has a lien on the house.
Alison had said that Gordie Amory was divorced. Her final advice rang in Laura's ears: "Look, honey, if you can't talk him into using you in the series, maybe you can get him to marry you. I understand he's mighty impressive. Forget what a nerd he was at Stonecroft."
5
"Anything else I can do for you, Dr. Sheridan?" the bellman asked.
Jean shook her head.
"You feel all right, Doctor? You look kind of pale."
"I'm fine. Thank you."
"Well, you just let us know if there's anything we can do for you."
At last the door closed behind him, and Jean could sink down on the edge of the bed. She had jammed the fax into the side panel of her shoulder bag. Now she grabbed it and reread the cryptic sentences: "Jean, I guess by now you've verified that I know Lily. Here's my problem. Do I kiss her or kill her? Just a joke. I'll be in touch."
Twenty years ago Dr. Connors had been the physician in Cornwall to whom she had confided her pregnancy. He had reluctantly agreed with her that involving her parents would be a mistake. "I'm going to give up the baby for adoption no matter what they say. I'm eighteen, and it's my decision. But they'll be upset and angry and make my life even more miserable than it is," she had said, weeping.
Dr. Connors told her about the couple who had finally given up hope that they would have their own child and who were planning to adopt. "If you're sure you're not going to keep the baby, I can promise you they will give it a wonderful, loving home."
He had arranged for her to work in a nursing home in Chicago until the baby was due. Then he flew to Chicago, delivered it, and took the baby
"Younger?" she had shouted. "For God's sake, Alison, I'm thirty-eight. The mother in the series has a twelve-year-old daughter. And I look good. You know I do."
"Don't yell at me," Alison had shouted back. "I'm doing my best to convince them to keep you. As for looking good, between laser-surgery and botox and face-lifts, everybody in this business looks good. That's why it's so hard to cast anyone as a grandmother. Nobody looks like one anymore."
We agreed to come to the reunion together, Laura thought. Alison told me that, according to the list of classmates who'd responded yes, Gordon Amory would be here, and apparently he just bought into Maximum. She said that he had enough influence to help me keep the job, assuming he could be convinced to use his power.
She had pushed and pushed Alison to call Gordie right away and make him force Maximum to accept her for the role. Finally Alison had said, "First of all, don't call him Gordie. He hates it. Second, I was trying to be tactful, something as you well know I rarely trouble to be. I'll say it straight. You're still beautiful, but you're not much of an actress. The people at Maximum think this series could turn out to be a real hit, but not with you in it. Maybe Gordon can change their minds. You can charm him. He had a crush on you, didn't he?"
The bellman had gone down the hall to fill the ice bucket. Now he tapped on the door and came back in. Without even thinking, Laura had already opened her purse and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill. His fervent "Thanks so much, Ms. Wilcox," made her wince. Once again she had played the big shot. Ten bucks would have been plenty.
Gordie Amory had been one of the guys who'd had a really big crush on her when they were at Stonecroft. Who'd have guessed that he'd end up such a big shot? God, you never know, Laura thought as she unzipped the garment bag. We should all have a crystal ball to look into the future.
The closet was small. Small room. Small windows. Dark brown carpet, brown upholstered chair, bedspread in tones of pumpkin and brown. Impatiently, Laura pulled out the cocktail dresses and evening suit she'd carried in the garment bag. She already knew that she'd wear the Chanel tonight. Go for glitter. Knock them dead. Look successful, even if you are behind in your taxes and the IRS has a lien on the house.
Alison had said that Gordie Amory was divorced. Her final advice rang in Laura's ears: "Look, honey, if you can't talk him into using you in the series, maybe you can get him to marry you. I understand he's mighty impressive. Forget what a nerd he was at Stonecroft."
5
"Anything else I can do for you, Dr. Sheridan?" the bellman asked.
Jean shook her head.
"You feel all right, Doctor? You look kind of pale."
"I'm fine. Thank you."
"Well, you just let us know if there's anything we can do for you."
At last the door closed behind him, and Jean could sink down on the edge of the bed. She had jammed the fax into the side panel of her shoulder bag. Now she grabbed it and reread the cryptic sentences: "Jean, I guess by now you've verified that I know Lily. Here's my problem. Do I kiss her or kill her? Just a joke. I'll be in touch."
Twenty years ago Dr. Connors had been the physician in Cornwall to whom she had confided her pregnancy. He had reluctantly agreed with her that involving her parents would be a mistake. "I'm going to give up the baby for adoption no matter what they say. I'm eighteen, and it's my decision. But they'll be upset and angry and make my life even more miserable than it is," she had said, weeping.
Dr. Connors told her about the couple who had finally given up hope that they would have their own child and who were planning to adopt. "If you're sure you're not going to keep the baby, I can promise you they will give it a wonderful, loving home."
He had arranged for her to work in a nursing home in Chicago until the baby was due. Then he flew to Chicago, delivered it, and took the baby
Similar Books
Wings in the Dark
Michael Murphy
Falling Into Place
Scott Young
Blood Royal
Dornford Yates
The War of the Worlds
H.G. Wells
Utah Terror : Utah Terror (9781101606971)
Jon Sharpe
Born & Bred
Peter Murphy
The Cured
Deirdre Gould
Eggs Benedict Arnold
Laura Childs
A Judgment of Whispers
Sallie Bissell
Lipstick Kisses : A Sexy, Standalone Contemporary Romance
C.C. Cartwright