All That Lies Within (21 page)

“At the moment, it’s more like box office blah,” George said.

“Again, I’m not sure what it is you think I can do for you.”

“We need help with the script. A lot of help with the script,” George admitted. “Normally, in a situation like this, we’d approach the author of the original work and ask for their assistance.”

Rebecca’s heart tripped as the nature of the dilemma hit home. “You can’t do that, because you can’t reach Constance Darrow.”

“Bingo,” Eric said.

“Surely you must have some way to find her,” Rebecca probed. She needed more information. She needed to know what they knew about Constance.

“Even if we could, it wouldn’t do us any good.”

Rebecca turned her attention to Audrey, who’d made the comment. “Why not?”

“Because we need someone on the set who can help us make adjustments on the fly.”

“When they sold us the rights to the work, Ms. Darrow’s representatives made it a stipulation of the contract that she would not be required to meet with anyone connected to the film,” Eric said.

“It was weird.” Randolph shook his head. “Most authors want to be consulted. They want to be part of the process. This is their baby and they want to make sure we stay true to the material. Her? She didn’t want to have any part of it.”

That’s because she would’ve given herself away, and her privacy was too important to her to risk that. Oh, Dara. This must be killing you.
“Okay. So I am, what? A stand-in?”

“To be honest, you’re the next best thing and maybe our only hope to get this piece of junk back on track,” George said.

“How do you know I’m right for this?”

“Let’s find out, shall we?”

Audrey got up and shut the blinds and turned off the lights as George punched keys on one of the laptops.

“This is the footage from yesterday. It’s a scene between Celeste and Harold. See for yourself and tell us what you think.”

The first time Rebecca saw Dara on screen as Celeste, her pulse throbbed with excitement. She
was
Celeste. But as she watched take after take, Rebecca felt increasingly sick inside. This wasn’t Constance’s Celeste. When it was over, Audrey turned the lights back on.

The room was quiet until Rebecca broke the silence. She couldn’t contain herself anymore. “Let me start by saying, I don’t want to insult anyone.”

“But?” Randolph asked.

“But that woman on the screen isn’t Celeste. It isn’t Dar—the actress’s fault,” she hastened to add. “It appears to be the way the scene is written. Is there any chance I can see the script?”

Audrey slid a copy of the script down the table to Rebecca. “Start on page seven.”

Rebecca flipped to page seven and read what the screenwriter had written.
Oh, my God, Dara. I’m so sorry. You have to be going crazy inside.
“Can I be frank here?”

“Please, God, yes,” Randolph said.

“I’m not sure who wrote the screenplay, but this isn’t even close to what Ms. Darrow intended. If you want to make a movie about some woman who isn’t Celeste, this might be the ticket, but if you bought the material with the idea of bringing Constance Darrow’s work to life, then you’ve got yourself a big problem.”

Rebecca pointed at a section of the script and held it up for everyone to see. “This? This interaction right here is all wrong. The thing that motivates Celeste in this interchange is her recognition of Harold as a kindred soul. The way this is written, we don’t see any of that. This is absolutely critical because it sets up the nature of the bond between the two main characters. It’s the underpinning of the entire story and it’s just not here.” She slapped the script back down on the table.

In the ensuing silence, Rebecca wondered if she’d gone too far. She glanced around at the faces, trying to read their reaction.

“Professor?” George was the first to speak. “What are you doing for the next ninety days?”

Rebecca raised an eyebrow. “Ninety days?”

“That’s how long we’re scheduled to shoot and I don’t see how we can go forward without substantial revisions to the script.”

“I—I’m not a screenwriter. I’ve never written anything that wasn’t academic in nature.” Rebecca felt the panic rise up in her throat.

“We’re not asking you to write it,” Eric said.

“What we need is for you to do what you’re doing right now. Read it, and doctor it. Edit it so that it matches the author’s original intent,” Randolph said.

“You understand these characters and the nuances of this story. You’ve studied it extensively.”

And I’ve had the advantage of conversing with the author.
But Rebecca had no intention of mentioning that out loud. “I have, but, as I said, I have no experience with movies or writing screenplays, or even doctoring them.”

“Professor, we really, really need you,” George pleaded. “Without you and your insights, there’s no point even shooting another minute of tape. It’s a waste of the studio’s money.”

“We might as well fold up shop and cut our losses,” Eric agreed.

Rebecca was torn. Even if she ignored the fact that the semester had barely gotten underway and she couldn’t just walk away from her teaching responsibilities, there was the matter of a learning curve. She was certain there was one, and they already were in the middle of production. There would be no time for her to figure out what a script doctor did and to learn enough about the business to feel competent at what they were asking her to do.

Something else occurred to her. “You’d want me to be on the set every day?”

“Most days, at the very least. We’d need you there to re-imagine scenes if necessary, and to advise me as we shoot,” George said.

If she agreed, Rebecca no doubt would be face-to-face with Dara. The thought simultaneously thrilled and terrified her. What would Dara think about that? How would she feel? There’s no way Rebecca could even entertain saying yes until she knew the answers to those questions.

“Can I have a little time to think about it? This is all very sudden. I would have to take a leave of absence from my teaching position, which would require a conversation with my bosses. Then there’s the matter of relocation.”

“We’d rent you a condo for the time you’re out here. And get you a car so that you could get around,” Randolph said.

“And the consulting fee would be substantial,” Eric threw in.

Money’s not the issue here. I need to know that this is the right thing to do for Dara.
That thought triggered another question. “Would the actors be made aware that someone was coming in to rework the script?”

“They’d be made aware, sure,” George said. “But they’d have no say. You’d be working primarily with me, with Audrey, and our editor.” His tone left no room for discussion. It appeared that on set, the director was king.

“As I said, I’d really need a little time to think this through and make sure this is the best thing for me.”

“Your flight tomorrow is at 7:00 a.m. We can give you until then. Shooting resumes Monday morning,” Randolph said.

“That’s not a lot of time. Less than twenty-four hours.”

“Time is money, Professor. Time is money.”

“Okay. You’ll have your answer before I board the plane.”

“Good enough,” Randolph said. “My assistant will give you all the contact information you need and I’ll have terms messengered to your hotel for your consideration.”

As the meeting broke up and Rebecca started to leave, George approached her.

“You know, I was against bringing you here. But I don’t hold the purse strings, so I didn’t have much choice.”

Terrific. A hostile work environment and I haven’t even said ‘yes’ yet.

“But after watching your lectures and listening to you today, I realize I was wrong. I believe in this film. I signed on to direct it because I was impressed with the depth of the emotions and the intricacies of the plot. This is a story that really, really needs to be told. That isn’t going to happen without your help. I don’t want to be overly dramatic here, but the fate of this movie rests on your shoulders right now.”

“No pressure here.” Rebecca kept her tone light, even as a knot the size of a softball formed in the pit of her stomach. She had so much to think about and roughly seventeen hours to figure it all out.

As she was being driven to her hotel, Rebecca mapped out a strategy. There were two phone calls she needed to make. One was to the head of department at Middlebury. But even before that, she needed to reach out to the one person who might be able to guide her in this situation. She needed to call Carolyn Detweiler.    

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The hotel lobby was crowded with tourists, no doubt hoping to catch a glimpse of a favorite star. Carolyn found Rebecca sitting in a high-backed chair, her Kindle in hand. She was completely absorbed in whatever she was reading.

“Hi.” When Rebecca looked up, Carolyn noted the bags under her eyes that the makeup couldn’t quite cover. Her expression was a cross between deer-in-the-headlights scared and kid-caught-with-a-hand-in-the-cookie-jar guilty.

Rebecca scrambled to her feet and tossed the Kindle into a briefcase. “Hi. You look great.”

“I bet you say that to all the girls.” Carolyn noted the resulting blush creeping up Rebecca’s neck and silently congratulated herself on obtaining confirmation of Rebecca’s sexuality. Rebecca never actually outed herself to Dara in their letters and Carolyn wanted to be sure, especially since Dara continued to mope around in a way that told Carolyn that she was missing Rebecca.
Even if she still refuses to admit it.

“Thanks so much for coming on such short notice. I didn’t know you had an office out here, but that’s certainly fortuitous. I thought we’d just be talking on the phone.”

“I always prefer face-to-face whenever possible.” That was certainly true in this case. Carolyn wanted another opportunity to get to know Rebecca a little better. She gestured for Rebecca to walk with her.

Rebecca seemed so nervous that Carolyn practically could feel her vibrating next to her. The only thing she said on the phone was that she needed to talk about a time-sensitive matter of great urgency. “It’s too loud in here, don’t you think? Have you eaten lunch?”

As if on cue, Rebecca’s stomach rumbled loud enough that, even in the hubbub, Carolyn heard it. She laughed. “I’ll take that for a no.”

“I haven’t had time.”

“I know a great place around the corner.”

After they’d ordered, Carolyn said, “Okay. I’m listening. What’s so important?” It wasn’t really the first question Carolyn wanted to ask. She wanted to know how Rebecca was doing and if she was missing Dara as much as Dara was missing her. She knew she couldn’t ask it, but once she sat down across from her and had a chance to study Rebecca’s face more closely and in better lighting, the stress and sadness were written in the lines around her mouth and in the depths of her eyes.

Rebecca began shredding a napkin. Her hands were trembling and Carolyn felt sorry for her. So sorry that she reached across the table and stilled her hands. “Whatever it is, Rebecca, it’s going to be okay.”

“I hope so.” Rebecca looked up with tears in her eyes. “I don’t know what to do. I feel like I’m damned if I do, damned if I don’t.”

Carolyn withdrew her hand. “Why don’t you start at the beginning?”

By the time Rebecca finished her tale, they’d finished eating and were drinking coffee.

“Say something, please?” Rebecca pleaded.

“Wow.”

“Tell me you’ve got something more than that?”

Carolyn’s mind tumbled over the possibilities and implications. She tried to organize her thoughts.

“I didn’t ask for this,” Rebecca said.

Carolyn realized that Rebecca mistook her silence for disapproval. “I know that. There’s a lot to sift through here.” She took a deep breath. “Okay, for starters. I’m going to put on my business manager hat for you. I can’t help you officially, not without talking to Dara first. And I don’t think any of us is ready for that. But I do want to make sure this is even feasible for you and professionally in your best interest. I won’t let anyone take advantage of you. Did you receive a contract offer yet?”

Rebecca reached down next to her chair and fished around in her briefcase. “Right here.”

Carolyn removed the document from the envelope and read through it. The offer was both generous and fair.

“Well?”

“It’s a good deal. There’s nothing in here that would raise a red flag for me. If you were my client, from a business standpoint, I’d tell you to sign it.”

“Good to know. Thank you. And the rest?”

Carolyn pursed her lips. This was so thorny and delicate. Dara would be completely rattled to know that she was going to have to face Rebecca again, never mind see her at work on a regular basis. Then again, Dara was dour without Rebecca’s letters and putting the two of them together in one place might be just the thing to give them a romantic shove toward each other. Beyond that, there were the business aspects of the situation to consider…

“Earth to Carolyn?”

Carolyn realized with a jolt that she hadn’t answered Rebecca’s question. “I think it’s complicated.”

“Tell me about it.”

Really, there’s only one thing to do.
“You said you fly out first thing in the morning and they want a decision by then?”

“That’s right.”

“What are you doing for dinner tonight?”

“Didn’t we just finish eating lunch? Is that all you Hollywood types do, eat?”

Carolyn recognized Rebecca’s teasing tone and matched it. “Nope. Occasionally, we drink too.”

“Of course you do.”

“Well?”

“It’s not like I know anyone in this town. I don’t have any plans other than to collapse into a soporific stupor.”

“Nice alliteration.”

“It’s a habit. My friend, Natalie and I…” Rebecca started to explain. “Never mind, it’s not important.”

It was the first time Rebecca had mentioned another woman, and Carolyn thought it was
very
important. Before she could stop herself, she asked, “Is Natalie your…”

“Girlfriend?” Rebecca’s tone was incredulous. “Oh, my God, no. We’d kill each other. She’s just my best friend. A colleague and running buddy.” Rebecca narrowed her eyes. “What makes you think I’m gay?”