“No problem.” Millie dried her hands. “I have to go put on my makeup and get ready for today. I heard that Pierce Bros-nan was dropping by the set.”
“He’s not in the picture.”
“He’s a friend of Jovan’s.”
“I’ll put the dishes away. You go get ready.”
My aunt Loulane had always claimed she did some of her best thinking with her hands in dishwater. I knew it was a trick, so I didn’t fall for it. But the rhythmic motions of drying and putting away dishes did give me a chance to order my thoughts and probe my feelings for Graf.
I had acted rashly in jumping into bed with him, but for the first time in months I felt as if I had a toehold on a precarious cliff. I had no doubt that Coleman Peters cared for me, but his actions toward me had not been loving. Torn between honor and love, he’d chosen honor. And the terrible predicament was that such behavior was exactly why I’d fallen for him in the first place.
But a woman can’t always come in second, not even to honor. And I’d been third to his wife, Connie, producer of fake pregnancies and tumors, for I had no doubt that the latest of her cranial difficulties was fabricated.
As a point of honor I refused to ask Cece or Tinkie or Millie how Connie’s medical issues were progressing. I’d made a decision about Coleman, and now no matter what happened between Connie and him, I had moved on.
“Are you okay, Ms. Delaney?” I turned to find Jovan standing in the kitchen. “Is there coffee?” she asked.
“Yes and yes.” She was a beautiful woman, but there was also sadness in her crystal blue gaze.
She poured a cup of coffee, black, and sat at the table. There was a large bruise on the orbital socket of her eye that ran down her cheek. There was also a cut on her lip, but she was able to work all of her limbs properly.
“You looked so sad when I walked in. My grandmother would say that you’re too young for sadness.”
“Chronologically speaking, your grandmother might be correct. But life doesn’t wait ’til a certain age to dish out the hard spots.”
“How well I know.” She sipped her coffee. “Forgive my nosiness, but why are you unhappy today?”
I could ask her the same, but I didn’t. “I was thinking about the people I’d left behind in my life.”
“I suppose we all have our ghosts.”
I knew she couldn’t be referring to Jitty, but I was struck by a wave of homesickness. “What ghosts do you carry, Jovan?”
She shrugged. “Sometimes we’re born burdened with the past.”
She was smart for someone so young. “Tell me what happened last night, if you don’t mind.”
She went through the story Federico had told me, point by point.
“Do you think that woman you saw pushed you?”
She hesitated. “She was halfway down the second-floor hall. She would have had to move fast to get to me.”
“If she didn’t push you, who did?”
“That’s the thing that’s really scary, Ms. Delaney. I can’t explain how she did it, and if she didn’t, who did.”
CHAPTER TEN
Federico was true to his word, and the next two days of shooting went without a hitch. There are rare times, sometimes only moments, when life is close to perfect. This was such a time for me. I had Graf, my best friends in the world, a job that I’d dreamed of and now discovered that I could do well, and a place that was close to paradise. If I’d been asked to make a wish, I would have had to say that I had everything I wanted.
Graf and I rode each morning on the beach, the waves crashing onto the sand and the seabirds calling. The brisk salt air made the horses frisky, and we rode and frolicked, and for those short hours I had no worries or cares. I embraced the happiness the gods had thrown in my path, and everyone on the set noticed, especially Tinkie.
The days had begun to run together, but Tinkie informed me that it was a Tuesday, and that she and Cece and Millie would have to leave soon. While I had started a new life, they were only vacationing from theirs.
The idea of saying good-bye almost made me cry, but I walled off my own sadness. “I wish you guys could stay forever.”
“Oscar called three times last night. He’s getting grumpy, and that means it’s time for me to head home. Cece says the newspaper is nagging at her, too.”
Cece had worked too hard to overcome the stigma of being a transsexual to ever take her job assignment lightly.
“And Millie is worried about the cafe.” Tinkie took my hand. “Let’s take a walk.”
We went to the beach and watched the surf strike the rock formation that looked like a castle from a distance.
“This is a beautiful place, Sarah Booth.”
“Indeed it is. But we’ll be heading back to California soon.”
“I’ve been watching you act, and you do have a special talent. I’m so proud of you. You’re going to have a big, big career in film.”
She was the most generous of friends, offering freedom without guilt, even if it meant leaving her behind. “After the movie is finished, I’m coming home. We can have a big ole party at Dahlia House.”
“That’ll be nice.” She turned to go back. “But Hollywood is where the parties count. No one in Zinnia can help your career.”
“The party isn’t for my career, it’s for my friends.”
She smiled and tugged me along behind her. “Millie is cooking dinner for Federico and Jovan and us. I promised her I’d go to the store and get some supplies. Want to come?”
I did but I had some lines to learn for the next day’s shooting. “I’ll help later in the kitchen.”
“Good deal.” We parted ways at the front driveway. Tinkie had borrowed the keys to a rental car and she had her list in hand.
As I walked to my room, I wondered how Federico had put the kibosh on Estelle leaping out of dark corners, but I didn’t want to ask. The only thing that mattered was that he made certain she didn’t frighten or harm anyone else.
In my room, I picked up my script and plopped into the comfortable, overstuffed chair covered in lush rose velvet. I wanted to be letter perfect for filming tomorrow. Several other actors were coming in for scenes, and it was a big day of shooting.
By the time I was satisfied with my rehearsal, dusk had fallen outside. My mother had called it “the blue hour,” and I understood why. While dawn, with the pinks and roses of a new day, was promising, there was something about the fading of light from the sky that made me sad. Another day was ending, another cycle concluding.
Moving out to the balcony to stretch and take a breath of the fresh, wonderful air that blew in from the ocean, I saw movement in the gardens.
A slender figure in a red dress moved through the shrubs. My body tensed and I was on full alert. Somehow Estelle was back on the grounds and playing her games. I wasn’t about to let her mess up Millie’s dinner.
Sweetie and Chablis were nowhere to be found-gone with Graf, I presumed. The dogs had taken up with him, and while it did my heart good to see that Sweetie Pie had a father figure, I was a tad jealous. Especially in moments like this, when I needed my hound for a tracking job.
To my astonishment, the figure beckoned me.
“You bet your sweet ass I’m coming down,” I mumbled, putting my words into action. “I’ll be there before you can say Essie Mae Woodcock.”
I slipped on my athletic shoes and crept down the stairs and into the blue dusk. From the kitchen I could hear Cece telling a story to some of the enthralled crew. My friends were hits with everyone, and I didn’t want to disturb the joy of the evening. I’d have a few words with Estelle and convince her to let us finish the filming. If she left us alone, we’d conclude faster and get out of her mother’s home.
