All That Lies Within (24 page)

Dara winced. “Yeah. That’s definitely a worse deal. Is that what time your class is?”

“8:00 a.m. on the east coast, followed by a smaller seminar course on F. Scott Fitzgerald at 9:30.”

“Back-to-back classes?”

“Usually followed by office hours from ten forty-five to two.”

“What are you going to do about those?” Carolyn asked.

“Fit them in virtually somehow, I suppose.” Rebecca felt the stress creep into the middle of her back and take up residence. It was one thing to get Alistar to agree to this arrangement in principle. It would be quite another to execute it in such a way that it was fair to Middlebury. She had no idea what her obligations would be on the set, but she felt a very deep and abiding responsibility to her students.

“Are you okay?”

Rebecca gave Dara a half-smile. “Sure. Why do you ask?”

“You just got this funny look on your face, kind of like a ‘what the hell have I gotten myself into’ thing.”

“I can’t imagine why. I’m just turning my life upside down. What could go wrong?”

Dara rested a hand on her shoulder. “It’ll be all right, you’ll see.”

Dara’s light touch sent a reassuring burst of warmth through her, and Rebecca sighed. “It’s going to have to be.” Rebecca’s phone buzzed and she took it out to look at it. “Oh.”

“Is that a good
oh
or a bad
oh
?” Carolyn asked.

“It’s a ‘the studio sent back a PDF of the contract with all of our stipulations accepted’
oh
…including setting up my own trailer on the set from which I can teach my classes.”

Goose flesh popped up all over Rebecca’s arms. This was really happening. She kept scrolling. “Oh.”

“Well, that was a different
oh
,” Dara said. “What does that one mean?”

“It means they don’t want me to get on a plane tomorrow. They expect me to be on set first thing Monday morning. They’re messengering a copy of the script to my hotel right now along with the software I’ll need to install on my laptop so I can make revisions and be able to work on the script and interface with the director and assistant director electronically.”

Rebecca knew her voice held an edge of panic. It was impossible. She had no clothes with her, none of her class notes, and they hadn’t ironed out any of the details of how the distance-learning piece was going to work. It simply couldn’t be done.

“Rebecca?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re hyperventilating,” Carolyn said.

“I am?”

“How about if we sit back down for a second,” Dara recommended.

Rebecca allowed herself to be led to a chair. Carolyn and Dara hovered above her. “I’m sorry. It’s just… I don’t know how I can possibly agree to that. I don’t have any of the stuff for my classes with me. I don’t have any clothes. I don’t have a place to live here yet. I don’t…” She looked up at the two women standing in front of her. “That’s a lot of
I don’ts
, isn’t it?”

Dara smiled kindly at her. “It’s okay. We forgive you.”

“Rebecca, Dara and I can help you.” A look passed between Carolyn and Dara.

“Carolyn and I
will
help you. Together we can get this done. I promise. We’ll make it work. You’ll see.”

“How?”

“For starters, we’ll answer the studio back and tell them that if that’s what they expect, they’re going to have to move Heaven and Earth to get your satellite office up and running tomorrow so that it can be tested and in perfect working order for your Monday class,” Carolyn said.

“But I still won’t have my notes for class.”

“You said you have your laptop with you?” Dara asked.

“Yes.”

“And is it safe to assume that your lesson plans are on a computer in your office?”

“Of course.”

“Perfect. Car, put in the contract that the studio has to make any necessary modifications so that Rebecca’s work computer is accessible from her laptop.” Dara turned to Rebecca. “Will that work?”

“It would if they can get it done.”

“If they want you on set on Monday, they’ll get it done. Next, tomorrow, I’ll take you shopping and we’ll get you a wardrobe and anything else you need,” Dara added. “That’ll be at the studio’s expense too, right Car?”

“Absolutely. We’ll insist on it.”

“When we’re done shopping, I’ll get my real estate agent on the job of finding you someplace to live for the next ninety days.”

Rebecca simply watched Dara and Carolyn go back and forth. They made it sound so…doable. “It’s too late to call Alistar back tonight,” she said practically.

“You can call him first thing in the morning,” Dara said. “I’ll even take one for the team and flirt again, if necessary.”

Rebecca laughed. “At this rate, you might have to flash him.” She enjoyed that Dara’s mouth formed an
O
but made no sound. She found it charming that such a suggestion, even in jest, could embarrass Dara.  “And we’ll never get a place that I can rent and move into tomorrow. My reservation at the hotel is only through tonight.”

“That’s easy.” Dara waved a hand dismissively. “You can stay at my place for now.”

Rebecca nearly fell off the chair. If she pinched herself surreptitiously, would either woman notice? Surely this couldn’t be real. Three hours ago, Dara never wanted to see her again. Now? Now, she was offering Rebecca a place to stay and to take her shopping for clothes and a condo?
If this were a novel, the critics would pan it for implausibility.
Belatedly, she realized she hadn’t answered. “That’s too generous.” She made eye contact with Dara and Carolyn in turn. “All of this. You both are wonderful, but I can’t ask you to—”

“Well, then, it’s a good thing you didn’t ask,” Carolyn said. “We offered.”

“Very true,” Dara agreed. “We did. It would be downright unfriendly of you to turn us down, wouldn’t it, Car?”

“It would.”

“Let’s get the pumpkin back to the hotel so she can crash, then you can drop me at home.” Dara offered Rebecca a hand and pulled her up out of the chair.

It was a dream. It had to be. Rebecca followed them out the door, got in the back seat of Carolyn’s car, and buckled herself in. Less than twenty-four hours ago she was sleeping in her own bed, a relatively obscure college professor with an obsession for a great American author and a broken heart.
If this is a dream, please, God, don’t wake me up.

“Rebecca?”

“Wh-what?” She jumped when she heard Dara call her name. “We’re at the hotel. Time to wake up, Sleeping Beauty.”

“Oh, my God. How embarrassing is that? Please, tell me I didn’t fall asleep like a little kid on a car ride?”

“If that’s what you want to hear…” Carolyn said.

Rebecca hid her face in her hands.

“Hey. It’s understandable. It’s been a long day for you.”

“Uh-huh. I think I’ll just go inside now before I humiliate myself any further.” She scrambled out of the seatbelt, grabbed her briefcase and purse, and opened the car door. “Thank you both so much. If you’d told me this is how the last twenty-four hours would’ve turned out, I’d have bet against it.”

“Good thing you didn’t put money on it,” Carolyn said.

“What’s your room number?” Dara asked. “I’ll pick you up in the morning.”

Rebecca groaned. “What’s morning around these parts?”

“I’ll take pity on you. I’ll get you at nine-thirty.”

“Deal. Room 227.”

Dara pulled out her cell phone. And your phone number? Just in case I need it?”

Rebecca gave it to her. Dara Thomas, aka Constance Darrow, wanted her digits. What a long, strange day it had been.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Dara knew she should be sleeping. The clock on the nightstand mocked her—2:23 a.m. If she dropped off right now, she could salvage five hours of sleep before she had to be up for her morning run.

Instead, she replayed the evening’s events at Carolyn’s condo over and over again, an endless loop of conflicting and confounding emotions. When she said that she never wanted to see Rebecca again, she meant it. And if only Rebecca hadn’t overheard her say it, Dara’s nice, ordered life could’ve stayed exactly as it was.

In retrospect, she was appalled at her own behavior. What the hell was that about? Surely Rebecca hadn’t done anything to warrant her vitriolic diatribe. If she’d been standing outside herself, Dara would’ve wondered who that diva was and dismissed her as a spoiled bitch.

That Rebecca actually forgave her enough to come back inside and give her a chance was remarkable enough. But to take such an enormous leap of faith and undertake a project in which she had no personal stake? Well, it simply boggled the mind.

She tried to put herself in Rebecca’s place. What would she have done?
You’d have told her to stick it where the sun don’t shine.
A wave of nausea made her guts roil, and Dara threw a hand over her stomach, as if that would alleviate the sickening sensation of self-realization.
I am not that woman. I’m not a bitter, isolated, misanthrope. I’m not.

After spending time with Rebecca tonight, one thing already was obvious: Rebecca was no Sheilah. Rebecca was insightful, passionate, sincere, thoughtful, and principled—all qualities that Sheilah lacked. Fleetingly, Dara wondered why she was comparing Rebecca to an ex-lover. After all, this was just a business arrangement.

Dara closed her eyes and saw Rebecca as she’d been standing under that streetlight. Her face, even tear-streaked as it was, was near perfection. The high cheekbones and generous lips, combined with the soulful eyes, gave her a quality of vulnerability and sensuality that Dara found nearly irresistible.

Dara’s eyes flew open and her heart pounded hard against her ribcage.
She’s a business colleague. Maybe she might turn into a friend. That’s all it is. The rest just makes the package more pleasant.

After several moments, satisfied that she had her libido under control, Dara closed her eyes again. Finally, sleep took her. In her dreams, she held Rebecca again under the streetlight. This time, though, she didn’t resist the urge to kiss her.

Rebecca jolted awake and flailed around trying to locate the incessant buzzing noise. After several ineffectual swipes with her hand, she cracked open her eyes and discovered the culprit—the alarm clock on the nightstand. She turned it off and rolled over, snuggling back into the plush covers. She just needed a few more minutes…

“Shit!” How was it possible that twenty minutes had passed? She threw off the covers and scrambled out of the bed, nearly stumbling on the way to the bathroom. Dara would be here in less than an hour.

Rebecca pulled up short in the middle of the room. Dara Thomas would be knocking on her hotel room door sixty minutes from now. The thrill of it sent shivers down her spine. She flashed back to the memory of Dara’s tirade outside the condo, and those shivers turned into pinpricks of pain. If she hadn’t cried and Dara hadn’t felt sorry for her, she would be on a plane heading back east right now.

Your only purpose here is to give Dara the cover she needs so that she can turn this movie around and make it consistent with Constance’s vision. Stay professional. Remember that it’s in her best interest to have you here. There’s nothing personal to it.
Inexplicably, that thought depressed her.

Rebecca got in the shower and stood under the spray. She let the water beat down on her tense muscles. Beyond the dynamics with Dara, there were so many other challenges.

Although Alistar agreed to the proposal in principle last night, she knew that after a night to sleep on it, he would already be re-thinking the whole idea and trying to find a way to backtrack. Sure, he was blown away by Dara and the whole star thing. Who wouldn’t be? But in the cold light of day, his practical, conservative, take-no-risks technophobic side would win out.

Then there was the matter of telling him there was no time for a gentle transition, that come tomorrow morning, she’d simply be a disembodied face on a big screen. She could hear him already. Dara or no this morning, Alistar no doubt would revert to being his dour self. Rebecca had a foreboding she couldn’t shake.

She toweled off, dried her hair, put on her makeup, and got dressed just in time for the knock on the door. It was exactly nine thirty.
Well, now I know she’s prompt.