Too late for smart thoughts. The lipstick was gone, except for the smears in the paper towels. I hadn’t been in town long enough to make real enemies, and if jealousy was the motivation, the person had made his or her point. Whoever it was would probably never come back. I took my script and went onto the porch to study my lines.
Graf returned that afternoon with an armload of flowers and an invitation to the spring party at Michael Mainheim’s. It was the place to see and be seen, and Graf cajoled and teased me into saying I would attend. He’d never been so tender and kind, and when I glanced up at him suddenly, I saw worry and compassion in his gaze.
“I know what you’ve given up to come here,” he said, his hand warm on my arm. “I never really had a place to call home, a place where I belonged. Zinnia is your town, and you left it to come here and act with me. I don’t think anyone has ever done something like that for me.”
I’d come for myself as well as Graf, but there was no sense spoiling it for him with full disclosure. And I had a party to get ready for.
I had the beautiful dress Tinkie had so generously bought for me in Zinnia, a winter white creation touched with stardust sparkles that fit me to perfection. The idea of the party, while a bit intimidating, was also exciting. My first Hollywood bash.
As I got ready, Graf filled me in on details. He was borrowing Bobby Joe’s tuxedo, and for this single evening, we decided to leave Sweetie home; she was exhausted from her play in the surf. As we slipped out the door, I caught a glimpse of myself in a window. My heart stopped. I’d never looked so much like my mother as I did in that dress with my hair swept up and my lipstick a peachy mango.
“What is it?” Graf asked.
“Just a ghost,” I answered, my thoughts flying to Jitty. Where was she? Was she waiting at Dahlia House, or had she gone on?
“Are you okay?”
I’d chosen, and I refused to allow the road not taken to drag me down. “I’m fine.” I put a smile on my face. I would make it so.
“If you don’t want to go to the party…”
“But I do. See and be seen. This is part of it, Graf. In for a penny, in for a pound. I’ll do everything I can to make this happen for both of us.”
He bent to kiss my temple. “Sometimes you astound me.” He took my arm and led me to the car, a Lexus sedan that he’d chosen for his own vehicle.
As he whisked me down the mountain toward the galaxy of lights that spread to the horizon, I closed my eyes and dared to dream. One of my worst habits was that I found it hard to believe when something really wonderful happened in my life. I hid from joy, because I feared it would be taken away from me. While Graf drove, I visualized the movie and all the pleasure of a dream realized. When we arrived at the party, I was ready to act the star.
The Mainheim house was everything I’d heard it to be. Michael Mainheim had done the music for a number of fabulous movies, and I knew Federico was courting him for our movie. A Mainheim soundtrack would be icing on the cake. From the looks of it, though, money wouldn’t be the draw that brought M.M., as he preferred to be called, to the project. He had money, and he spent lavishly. The gathering in front of me was testimony to that.
The party was a star-studded gala-and everyone knew my name. Scarlet Johansson and Brad Pitt welcomed me to Hollywood as I walked toward the bar. I was green and taking it all in like a tourist. This was an A-list party, and I was a part of it all.
“I hear the screen test sizzled,” Brad said. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you.” I moved on, hoping for a bar that stocked something as common as Jack Daniel’s. I wasn’t disappointed. A huge bottle sat on the shelf with my name on it.
“M.M. keeps a bottle for each guest,” the barkeep explained. “He said that was your drink, and so the bottle is marked for you.”
“Thanks.” That was the password of the day.
Graf was busy talking with Ben Affleck and Matt Damon, and I eased upstairs, hoping for a bit of solitude and a place to take a breather. This stargazing was a bit wearing.
The house was a treasure trove of art. I took my time examining the paintings and sculptures as I looked for a bathroom. While I was staring at what had to be a real Picasso, I heard voices raised in anger coming from the room beyond. The door was opened a crack, and I started to walk by when I recognized Federico’s voice.
“You must calm down,” he said with a degree of forcefulness.
“I’m not a child. Don’t you dare condescend to me. Don’t you tell me what I must do!”
The second voice was female, and not that of Jovan, who had a cool, clear tone with the hint of some underlying accent that I couldn’t place. This woman was one hundred percent California.
“Suzy, I’m sorry. This role was written for Sarah Booth Delaney. Something else just right for you will come along.”
“You bastard!” There was the sound of a slap. “You promised me. You said I would be the perfect Matty. You said the role was mine.”
Federico sighed loudly enough for me to hear. “That was six years ago, Suzy. I couldn’t get the backing then, remember? I tried, but after all the things I’d been through, no one would put money on me.”
“And now, because of me, you’re in a position to make this movie and I’m cut out of it because of that slutty underwear model.”
I’d finally figured out the woman’s voice. Suzy Dutton. Big, big news when she was in her early thirties. She’d been the hottest property in Hollywood. Now, at forty, her flame was burning blue.
“Jovan has nothing to do with this.”
“When you were in my bed, I was everything to you.”
“Time passes, Suzy. You can’t lay that at Jovan’s door. We were finished when I met her.”
“And soon you’ll be done with her and screwing that Mississippi bitch, Sarah Bootless Delancy, or whatever her name is.”
“You should go home and sleep. You look exhausted.”
“I look forty, you son of a bitch. Not exhausted, not sick, not crazy. I look my age, and that’s the biggest sin of all in this sick town.”
I ducked into the offset doorway of another bedroom just as Suzy slammed out of the bedroom. I had no time to hide. The moment she passed the doorway, she saw me.
“You eavesdropping redneck bitch!” She drew back her fist to slug me, but I caught her hand and easily held it.
“I was looking for the bathroom.” Why was I explaining my actions to a rude, mean actress? Maybe because Suzy Dutton had been a favorite of mine. I’d spent many a dark hour in a movie theater pulled into the characters she created.
“Did you hear enough to know what’s going to happen to you? Federico will work you until you start to age, and then he’ll cast you off and find someone younger and fresher.” Her lip curled in a near perfect Elvis snarl. “Enjoy it while it lasts.”
She pulled free of my grasp and stormed off down the hallway. When I chanced a look at the room where Federico remained, the door was closed. I couldn’t be certain if he’d heard my encounter with Suzy or not. Federico was my boss. I didn’t really need to know about his love life. But at least I had a pretty good idea of who’d written in lipstick on the mirror. Suzy Dutton was thoroughly pissed off, but she wasn’t a serious threat.
CHAPTER THREE
The moon hung in the western sky as I sipped the glass of wine Graf had brought me. Federico had only needed Graf on the set today, so I’d been able to stay on the mountain and explore with Sweetie Pie a few of the hiking trails that led down into the canyon. This Hollywood life was working on my hound, and she snored softly at my feet.
“This is delicious,” I told him. It was very good wine, like everything else that seemed to come so easily to Californians.
