All That Lies Within (28 page)

Dara stepped out of the shower and dried herself off. Her hands were shaking. She’d made a conscious decision years ago to close off the psychic part of herself. Apart from the vision of the angel in the hospital when her mother died, she hadn’t seen a spirit or held a conversation with one since she’d reached puberty.

Just my luck that it’d be my mother who haunts me.

She dried her hair, quickly donned a pair of jeans and a shirt, and prepared herself for the possibility that she would have to face Rebecca right now. When she opened the door and crept down the hall into the kitchen, she found a note on the counter. Damn her mother for being right. Rebecca had already left.  

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

“You look like you’re lost.”

“Oh my God. You have no idea.” Rebecca smiled at the twenty-something young woman in short shorts and a barely-there tank top.

“How can I help you?”

“I’m desperately seeking coffee.”

The woman laughed. “Aren’t we all at this hour, hon? I have an app for that.” She stared at Rebecca appraisingly. “You look pretty enough to be an actress, but somehow I don’t picture that for you.”

“You don’t, huh?”

“Nope.”

“Just out of curiosity, why not?”

“Not self-absorbed enough, for one thing.”

“You can tell that just by the way I asked for coffee?”

“No.” The woman giggled. “I can tell that because you made direct eye contact, you were polite, and you didn’t act like you were more important than me.”

Rebecca raised an eyebrow at the breathtakingly blunt assessment. “I didn’t realize being rude was a prerequisite for being an actor.”

“It’s not really. I’m just being jaded this morning. So, what’s your gig?”

“Oh, um.” Rebecca wondered if it was okay for her to explain her presence. Well, everyone would know soon enough anyway. “I’m working on
On the Wings of Angels
. I’m—”

“Wait! Don’t tell me, I want to guess.” The woman cocked her head to one side, and then the other. “Given the rumors on set, I’d say you’re here to fix the mess of a script.”

Rebecca’s eyes popped open wide, and the woman laughed at her.

“I’m right, aren’t I? C’mon, by the way. The coffee is this way.”

“What makes you say the script is in trouble?”

“Honey, I’m a makeup artist. We hear everything. I’m Leslie, but everyone calls me Zip.”

“Hi, Zip. Nice to meet you. I’m Rebecca.”

“Cool. Here we are. Brew to go.”

When they’d gotten their coffee and were headed back toward the row of trailers, Rebecca asked, “So all of the actors you work with are self-absorbed?”

“Nah. Most of them are okay.”

“What about the actors on this set?”

“Let’s see… Most of the secondary characters think they should be playing the leads.”

“And the actors who are playing the leads?” Rebecca held her breath. What was Dara like in her environment? Was she a diva? Rebecca couldn’t see it and she hoped it wasn’t true.
What does it matter now anyway?

“Sam Rutledge—he plays Harold. He’s a pretty nice guy. He’s been around a long time. Mellow, you know?”

“Mmm.”

“Dara Thomas.”

Rebecca’s heartbeat quickened and she willed herself not to care. Except that she did.

“She’s awesome. Always kind, always thoughtful. She pays attention to details, you know? I have a little flamingo hanging off my makeup mirror and another on my keychain. Next thing I know, she shows up in my chair and hands me a flamingo bobblehead. Blew my mind. Nobody does that.” Zip shook her head.

“Wow. Sounds like she’s special.”

“Yeah. But she seems a little haunted, you know? Like lonely, I guess.” Zip waved her hand. “Don’t mind me. I’m getting my degree in psychology and I have an overactive imagination.”

They arrived back at the trailers. “Thank you, Zip. For showing me the ropes. It wouldn’t be an overstatement to say you might’ve saved my life with this caffeine infusion.”

“I hear you.” Zip squinted and shielded her eyes as she gazed off into the distance. “Speaking of Dara Thomas, here she comes now. Early for makeup like always. I like that about her too. A lot of actors think it’s just fine to keep the makeup artists waiting. They saunter in hours late and expect us to work miracles. Not Dara. She’s always fifteen to twenty minutes early.”

Rebecca felt the heat rise in her cheeks. First, because it was obvious that Zip was nursing a serious case of hero worship where Dara was concerned. And second, because Dara was walking directly toward them.

“Hey, I can introduce you if you want.”

The heat turned to panic. She checked her watch. “No. No, thanks. I’m sure I’ll get to meet her on set. I’m going to be late, I’ve got to run.” She smiled tightly at Zip. “Thanks for the knowledge and for the company. Next time, coffee’s on me.”

As quickly as she could without running, Rebecca beat a hasty retreat to the classroom trailer. She didn’t think Dara had seen her. At least she hoped not. She stood for a bit, gathering her wits and letting her pulse slow. Class would start in less than five minutes.
Get your head together. If this is going to work, you need to be able to be in the same space with Dara and stay detached.

Rebecca sat down in front of the webcam and glanced at the monitors in front of her that would allow her to see the students in the classroom from several angles. Truly, what the studio set up for her was a miracle of technology. Now if only she could concentrate on her lecture. Of course, spending an hour talking about Constance Darrow’s work wasn’t going to be all that helpful. 

“Sorry for the reclamation project,” Dara said. She met Zip’s eyes in the mirror.

“Tough weekend?”

“Sort of.” Dara swallowed hard. Where was Rebecca now? She must be here somewhere.

Zip began spraying on Dara’s foundation. “Hey. I met someone really cool this morning. I bet you’d like her.”

“Oh? Who’s that?” Dara closed her eyes to avoid getting foundation in them.

“A new chick the studio brought in to doctor the script. Name’s Rebecca.”

Dara’s breath caught in her throat and she tried, unsuccessfully, to suck in air. She was glad her eyes were closed so that they didn’t give anything away.
You’re an actress. You can do this.
“Is that so?”

“Seems really nice. You’ll probably get to meet her later.”

“Probably.”
When I do, God, give me the strength to be a better actress than I am right now.

Rebecca sat back and breathed a sigh of relief. The classes went better than she dared hope, but she was completely drained. The combination of the emotional upheaval of last night, the lack of sleep, the early start, and having to spend an hour talking about Dara’s work while pretending not to have any personal attachment… All of it was too much.

She glanced at her watch; it was eight fifteen. In fifteen minutes, she would have to be on set, where no doubt she would come face to face with Dara.
You can do this. You have to be able to pull it off.
She took a few deep breaths to calm her nerves. What if she couldn’t?
Failure is not an option.

She took out her phone and dialed the number Stacy gave her yesterday.

“This is Stacy.”

“Hi, Stacy. It’s Rebecca Minton.”

“Hi there. What can I do for you?”

“I’m wondering…” Rebecca cleared her throat. Could it really have been just yesterday that she’d been praying that the condo wouldn’t be available for a while? “I’m wondering how soon I can get into the condo?”

“Oh. Um. You want me to push for an early in?”

“Yes, please.” Rebecca swallowed her tears.  She eyed her carryon bag and the additional suitcase she purchased yesterday that now held all of her new clothes.
What a mess.

“Let me make a phone call and I’ll let you know, okay?”

“Sure. Thanks.” Rebecca hung up. She scrolled through her recent calls until she got to Carolyn’s name. Her finger hovered over the call button, then she thought better of it and put the phone away.
Carolyn is Dara’s best friend. She can’t help you with this. Just keep breathing and go to work.
She checked herself in the trailer’s mirror, combed her fingers through her hair to settle it, and picked up her briefcase.
Show time.

“Good morning,” George said, as Rebecca stepped onto the set. “Welcome to bedlam.” He gestured with his arm to encompass the bustling activity all around the set. “I’ll introduce you in a second.”

“Okay.”

“So, this is how it’s going to go. We’re going to do a take or two the way the script is written. If I don’t like what I see, you and I will talk about the necessary adjustments. Got it?”

“I do.”

“Did you get the pages Audrey sent last night?”

“I did. I went through them and have suggestions ready, but I didn’t know how to use the software, so I made the changes by hand.”

“Excellent. I’m hoping we won’t need them, but the way things have been going…” Someone whispered in his ear, distracting him.

“Okay. Audrey?”

Audrey yelled, “Places everybody. Let’s get this show on the road. Oh, but first, George wants to introduce someone.”

George stepped forward. “This,” he pointed to Rebecca, “is the professor. She’s going to make the script even more brilliant than it already is. Rebecca Minton, meet motley crew.”

There was a round of welcoming murmurs. A distinguished-looking gentleman separated himself from the crowd. “I’m Sam Rutledge. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“I’m Rebecca. Nice to meet you too.”

When Sam stepped back, Rebecca was face-to-face with Dara. She stood stock still, her heart pounding hard against her ribcage.

“I’m Dara Thomas.”

Dara held out her hand and Rebecca took it. As she did, she flashed back to the smoothness of that hand caressing her cheek.

“Rebecca Minton.” She hoped no one heard her voice crack.

Dara didn’t make eye contact. Instead, she seemed to be looking at a spot over Rebecca’s right shoulder. “Welcome aboard.”

Rebecca let go of Dara’s hand and immediately missed the warmth of her touch. “Thank you.” She backed away and averted her gaze. It was too hard to see Dara like this.

“Okay, people,” Audrey barked. “Act One, Scene Three. Let’s get this show on the road.”

People hustled all around her and Rebecca moved to the side, trying to get out of the way.

“Stand over here.” Audrey grasped her arm and led her slightly to the right of where George was sitting on an elevated chair attached to some kind of small crane.

From this vantage point, Rebecca could watch all the action live, and she could see the monitor next to George at the same time.

The scene had Sam and Dara sitting outdoors at a table in a small, quaint café with checkered tablecloths. Extras filled in the other tables around them. Trees and potted plants surrounded the patio. A waitress stood off to the side with a tray carrying coffee cups, cream, and sugar.

“Okay, folks,” George yelled. “I want just enough activity to make this look like your average café, and not so much that it detracts at all from Celeste and Harold, who are having their first meaningful heart-to-heart. Audrey?”