All That Lies Within (15 page)

“For a bright woman, that might’ve been the dumbest thing you’ve ever done.”

She paused and looked out at the city lights without really seeing them. She’d planned to have a nice dinner out somewhere, but after her encounter with Dara, she’d lost her appetite. In truth, she felt sick to her stomach.

The last letter from Constance had shown glimpses of the woman inside the author, and Rebecca somehow held out hope that she and Constance were establishing new parameters for their relationship. Now…

Rebecca sat on the bed and buried her head in her hands. Now, she’d likely never hear from Constance again. She so looked forward to their exchanges. After the fiasco with Cynthia, her life had been utterly empty. The letters from Constance gave her something to look forward to.

Maybe she could find a way to make things right. Surely, Constance…
Dara,
Rebecca corrected herself. Surely, Dara understood that she would never violate her confidence. Hadn’t she made that clear in the way she handled the revelation?

What makes you think so? It isn’t like you said, “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.” And did you see how quickly she took off? She couldn’t get away from you fast enough.

Rebecca shook her head in dismay. She knew she’d crossed a line, an almost tangible one. If she had it to do over again, she knew she wouldn’t have said a word. She would have said hello, told Dara how much she admired her without explaining why, and they could’ve gone their separate ways with Dara thinking her secret was safe and Rebecca maintaining her pen pal status with Constance.

Perhaps, in time, Dara would’ve come clean and revealed the secret on her own.
And maybe pigs really can fly.

Rebecca flopped back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. The prospect of staying in New York now seemed so much less appealing. On the other hand, a good night’s sleep and a Broadway show tomorrow might lift her mood. She checked her watch—11:56 p.m. As if on cue, she yawned. And then her eyes popped open wide. Letterman was on and his monologue was probably almost over.

Could she really bring herself to watch?
You’d pass up a chance to see Dara up close again? Who are you kidding?
She laughed, mirthlessly, scooted up to sit against the headboard, and grabbed the remote.

After a couple of commercials, Dave introduced Dara. With the advantage of the camera close-up, Rebecca could see that the dress matched Dara’s eyes. Her breath caught as she saw an image of those eyes, looking directly at her.
A sight you’ll never see again.

Although she looked amazing on television, Rebecca thought Dara was far more attractive in person. And when Letterman began staring at her, Rebecca could have sworn she saw the bright smile slip a fraction. Rebecca wondered if she was reading too much into it. She didn’t think so.

How wearing must it be to be Dara Thomas, movie star! Rebecca couldn’t begin to imagine. Her mind wandered to the research she’d done on Constance. “Oh, my God. No wonder it was so hard to find out anything about her.”

Finally, belatedly, the pieces fell into place. What would Rebecca do if everyone objectified her and nobody took the time to realize that she was a complete person, with an outstanding mind?

“I’d find an outlet where I could be taken seriously and I’d guard it with my life.”

If Rebecca felt badly before, now she was beside herself. The last thing in the world she wanted to do was cause Constance any anguish. Somehow, some way, she had to make this right.     

CHAPTER TEN

Dara sat in the dark, fully dressed, in Carolyn’s guest room. She declined Carolyn’s invitation to watch her Letterman appearance. All she could see was Rebecca and all she could think about was that her jealously guarded privacy was gone. If she was going to be honest, that was the correct order of things.

Dara frowned. About the former, she didn’t want to care. But in the interest of more candidness, she had to admit that she really did. How did that happen?

Rebecca was even more attractive in person than her picture on the college website or in the video of her teaching. Her eyes were kind and luminescent.
Luminescent? What’s that about?

Dara sighed. Well, it was true. Not only that, but her energy was so open, so honest, and so sincere.

Carolyn was right—Rebecca didn’t say anything overt about Constance. She didn’t even mention the author at all.
Yet
, Dara reminded herself. She hadn’t said anything, yet. Wasn’t it only a matter of time before Rebecca leaked word to the press or sold the story along with copies of their correspondence, or…

“Hey,” Carolyn said, peeking her head inside the room. “Can I come in?”

Dara motioned her acquiescence. There was no sense pushing Carolyn away. She’d just keep coming back until Dara agreed to talk about it.

Carolyn walked in, turned on the light, and sat on the side of the bed. “I recorded the show in case you change your mind about watching it. This chick, Dara Thomas, she wowed Letterman. Had him eating out of the palm of her hand. It was really something to see.”

“Ha, ha.”

“You really did do a great job. You were engaging, witty, and charming.”

“Woo. The big three.”

“Don’t pooh-pooh it, Dara. This was an important moment for you and you nailed it.” Carolyn paused. “Except when Dave started off by mooning over you. I thought you might punch his lights out.”

“Was it that obvious?”

“Not to anybody but me. But then, I know how you feel about being treated like a piece of chocolate the day after Lent.”

Dara snorted. “You have such a way with a phrase.”

“Am I right, or am I right?”

“Of course you’re right, and you know it.”

“It’s why you were so adamant that Constance not be connected to you. You wanted her to stand on her own merits.”

Dara narrowed her eyes. “You did not just use the Letterman thing as a bridge into a discussion about Constance, did you?”

Carolyn winked. “I did.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. You created Constance because you wanted a place to be your whole self. You wanted to be the person people admired for your intelligence and your depth instead of your cup size.”

“My cup size is average,” Dara pointed out.

“Don’t equivocate.”

“Oh. Big word.”

“Did you have trouble understanding me? Would you rather I used a simpler term? Need a dictionary?”

Dara scoffed, and Carolyn pointed a finger at her. “See that look? That’s what I’m talking about. You bristle when anyone assumes you’re just a pretty face.”

“Of course. It’s insulting.”

“Do you remember what you told me the night Sheilah revealed her true colors?”

Dara wrapped her arms around herself. She didn’t want to do this. It was too painful. “I’m sure you’ll remind me.”

“I’m sure I don’t have to, but if you want me to be the one to say it, I will.”

Dara shook her head as a tear leaked out of the corner of her right eye. “I said I could never trust anyone but you again. No one but you ever loved me for who I was. Everyone else saw the shell and never the person inside. I said that I felt so alone, like a blind spot inside a lighthouse beacon.”

“Exactly. And then you cried and sat down and wrote that poem. Do you remember it?”

Dara nodded. How could she forget? It was written from the depths of her despair. “‘Knowledge and Illusion,’ I called it.”*

Dara closed her eyes and began to recite from memory.

Who will know me

When I am old and gray

Wizened by age

And wiser for the experiences?

Who knows me now

When the glare of the spotlight fades

And I am simply me?

Who understands that I am

At once so much more

and so much less?

Who sees me?

All of me

Not the fragments projected

On a screen

Or written on a page

Or frozen in images

That capture glimpses

Of things real or imagined…

“Blah, blah, blah.” Dara waved a hand to cover another swell of emotion she didn’t want to feel. When she looked up, it was Carolyn who was crying. “What?”

“That poem was achingly sad and poignant. And all these years later, you’re still asking the same question, searching for the same thing.”

Dara shrugged. “What’s your point?”

“What if—”

Carolyn twisted her wedding ring, a sure tip off that she was nervous about her next words. Dara tensed in anticipation. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know where this was going.

“What if Rebecca is the answer to the question?”

A rush of heat turned Dara’s face beet red.

“Before you say anything,” Carolyn rushed on, “consider what we know so far. Rebecca had no idea who Constance was and what she looked like when she wrote that first letter. It was obvious that she admired you for your writing.” Carolyn held up her fingers and ticked off that item.

“Two. Rebecca never once in a half dozen letters asked you anything too personal or out-of-bounds. She didn’t pry, she didn’t flirt, she didn’t push to meet you. She was at all times respectful and focused on your work.”

Dara had to admit that everything Carolyn said was true.

“Three. You enjoyed the conversation. In fact, you enjoyed it so much that you let some of your real personality shine through. You showed glimpses of humor.”

Again, Dara couldn’t dispute what Carolyn said.

“Four. I know you realize this is, by far, the longest correspondence you’ve had with any reader. I want you to look me in the eye and tell me that if today had never happened, you wouldn’t have continued the correspondence. I want you to sit there with a straight face and say that you were done with the conversation.”

Dara slumped her shoulders in defeat. “I can’t.”

“So what’s changed?”

“Everything!”

“How so?”

“How can you ask me that? You were there. She knows. She said as much. I’m no longer Constance Darrow to her now. I’m Dara Thomas, and she’ll never be able to un-know that.”

“Who says she needs to?”

Dara rolled her eyes. How could Carolyn be so obtuse?

“I do. Look, we know how this scenario goes. Now she treats me differently and, even if she says all the right things, I can’t trust that she’s not exactly like Sheilah and everybody else like her.”

“Now who’s rushing to judgment? You have no idea who Rebecca is or what kind of person she is or what her experiences have been.”

Dara flashed back to the gentle kindness in Rebecca’s open, honest face. She wished she could wipe that from her memory.

“At any rate, she’ll probably take those letters to the nearest tabloid or entertainment show and sell me out.”

“That’s completely unfair. Again, I’ll point out that, even though she had the chance, Rebecca didn’t ‘out’ you as Constance. She didn’t.”

“Yet.”

Carolyn growled. “What if she never does? What then?”

“Then she’ll be different from all the rest. But I just can’t take that chance. I won’t risk it.”

“What you mean to say is, you won’t allow yourself to open your heart to the possibilities.”

Dara stood up and strode to where Carolyn was sitting. She was vibrating with anger, and she couldn’t explain why.

“What does my heart have to do with anything? She’s just a fan who provided me with some momentary entertainment.” Even as she said it, Dara knew it was a lie.

Carolyn stood up. “Wow. Really, Dara? You’re full of shit. I saw the look on your face when I handed you that last letter. You couldn’t wait to open it and see what Rebecca had to say. Don’t deny it. There’s no point. If you want to play it safe and live in your lonely, isolated world for the rest of your life, I can’t stop you.” Carolyn headed for the door. “But for the record, I think Rebecca is just the kind of person you were yearning for in that poem. I guess we’ll never know now, will we?” She slammed the door closed behind her.

Rebecca sat at a table in Virgil’s on West 44
^th
Street eating barbeque ribs and mashed potatoes. Comfort food. The music from
Avenue Q
still reverberated in her head. Normally, a good musical would’ve had her spirits soaring, and it had helped somewhat, but Rebecca couldn’t shake the sadness. She’d hardly slept at all last night after watching Letterman. The conversation with Dara played over and over in her mind. Rebecca tried to recall the expression on Dara’s face when she mentioned Celeste. Had there been any wariness in her eyes? Any fear? Was there any chance at all that Dara walked away only because she was caught off-guard?
As if.

“Can I get you anything else?” The waiter asked.

“No, thank you. I’ll take the check whenever you’re ready.”

When she’d paid, Rebecca walked back to the hotel. Along the way, she continued to run through her options. By the time she used the keycard and entered her room, she’d made up her mind.

She flipped open the laptop and logged onto the Internet. In the Google search box she typed, “Dara Thomas representation.” Nearly nine million hits popped up. Wikipedia showed up on top, but Rebecca ignored that. Instead, she clicked on a link for WhoRepresents.com. She grumbled at having to register in order to get any information, but her outlook brightened considerably when she realized the gold mine she’d found. Every major actor, actress, and director was listed alongside his or her respective talent agents, lawyers, business managers, and public relations representatives.