All That Lies Within (18 page)

“Don’t gloat.”

“Well? Was I right or was I right?”

“You were right. Now take me home before I turn into a pumpkin.”

“I’d pay to see that.”

“I bet you would.”

Rebecca shuffled papers around on her desk. Class would start soon, and yet she couldn’t seem to muster any enthusiasm for it. Traditionally, the first lecture of the semester was her personal favorite. She enjoyed seeing all those eager faces, alert and ready to learn.

Since her visit to New York, she’d made a few adjustments to her course on “Constance Darrow and the Modern American Heroine.” As she’d explained to Carolyn, being able to study the author and factor in the author’s background and experiences did much to illuminate the subtext of the work.

The fact that the author was Dara Thomas made all the difference in the world. Still, Rebecca was careful not to include anything in her presentation that would make the connection between Constance and Dara.

Rebecca felt the now-familiar ache in her heart at the thought of Dara.
Constance.
She needed to continue to think of her as Constance so that she didn’t slip and reveal anything.

It seemed ridiculous that the absence of a woman with whom she’d shared a few letters and a bond over well-written literature should leave such a gaping hole in her life, but it did.

Rebecca eyed the clock on the wall. “Pull yourself together. It’s show time.” She gathered her papers together and headed for the lecture hall.

“They loved the table read you did with Sam. You got the part!” Rick Church’s voice was an octave higher than normal, as was usual when he was excited.

“Good,” Dara said. She was sitting on her back deck, watching the waves wash in against the shore.

“Because of the response to your interest in the project, everything’s being fast-tracked. Filming is set to start in two weeks. I’m having the script messengered to you right now. Rehearsals start next week.”

“Okay.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line. “I don’t understand you lately. You should be thrilled.”

“I’m jumping up and down on the inside.”

“Very funny. For more than a year, ever since Jessica Howland got fired from the role, you’ve been telling me how much you want to play Celeste in
On the Wings of Angels
. Now I tell you the part is yours, and you’ve barely got a pulse.”

“As I recall, you wanted me to do a Broadway show to improve my chances. I’m sure glad I had confidence in my ability to get the part on my own.” Dara heard the sarcasm in her own voice and frowned. “I’m sorry. That was shitty.”

“It was. Which, I might point out, also is not like you. But I still love you. And if you’d listened to me instead of going on national television and openly coveting the role, they might still be diddling around instead of getting it done.”

“You weren’t too fond of my taking it public at the time.”

Rick’s laughter echoed through the cell phone connection. “That was before you got the part. Now? I’m thrilled. Good call.”

“I’ll remember that next time I do something that freaks you out.”

“No you won’t, and that’s okay. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Bye, Rick.” Dara closed the Bluetooth and tossed it on the small table beside her chair. For several minutes she simply sat, mesmerized by the rhythmic slap of the water on the sand and the call of the gulls.

Rick was right, she should be thrilled and doing a happy dance. So why wasn’t she? Playing the role that she wrote was a dream come true. She wouldn’t have to worry about whether the actress could do justice to a character so near and dear to the author’s heart. She was the actress. Everything rested in her hands.

“Almost everything.” Dara corrected herself. The screenwriter, and most especially the director, would have a lot to say about how the book got brought to life. A scene shot this way or that, a choice of camera angles, a deleted line here or there—all of it contributed to the final product.

Still, Dara had the part. Rebecca would be overjoyed to know. Dara groaned. That was the problem. She’d never get to tell her in a letter or in person and watch her reaction, to see those vibrant eyes light up…
Stop it. You’re torturing yourself. Let it go.

In the week since she’d come back to LA, Dara had replayed those few seconds with Rebecca dozens of times. What if she had stayed long enough to hear what Rebecca would say next? What if she hadn’t gotten so terrified and run? Why couldn’t she bring herself to write to Rebecca now?

“Because you’re afraid she’s just like all the others and you don’t want her to be.” Dara shook her head in disgust. “And now you’re so pathetic you’re talking to yourself.”

At the sound of the warning alarm that a car was in the drive, Dara got up and went back inside. No doubt, the script had arrived. She would be grateful for the distraction.

CHAPTER TWELVE

“Welcome to
Entertainment Tonight
. Our top story comes out of Hollywood, where
Entertainment Tonight
has learned that Tinseltown’s torrid affair with actress Dara Thomas won’t be cooling off anytime soon.”

Rebecca froze with a forkful of honey balsamic salad in mid-air. Her mouth went dry.

A video clip showed Dara looking spectacular in a flowing indigo gown. Her hair was swept up in a French knot. Cameras flashed from every angle as she smiled and posed. Rebecca marveled at how calm, cool, and collected Dara appeared despite the frenzy around her.

“I bet you hate that,” Rebecca muttered. The thought sent a renewed spasm of pain through her. It was yet another reminder that she would never again be privy to Dara’s thoughts or see those now-familiar flashes of humor.

“Thomas, seen here at last night’s star-studded benefit for the AIDS Foundation in Beverly Hills, reportedly has signed on to play the role of Celeste in the troubled big-screen adaptation of the Pulitzer Prize-winning novel,
On the Wings of Angels
. The film languished in limbo for a long time following the very public firing of A-list actress Jessica Howland over her reportedly lackluster performance as the title character. With Thomas taking over the role, shooting on the film will begin in less than two weeks.”

It took several seconds for the substance of the report to sink in. When it did, Rebecca’s heart fluttered on a surge of pride. Dara would get to play Celeste, after all. “I’m happy for you.”

How the director ever could have thought Jessica Howland was right for the part was beyond Rebecca. Dara should have been the clear choice all along. But maybe her schedule hadn’t allowed for it.

Rebecca turned off the television and picked up her copy of
On the Wings of Angels
. Rereading it somehow made her feel closer to the author. As she focused on Celeste’s spiritual journey, she imagined the dialogue being spoken by Dara. Yes. There really was no other choice for the part. She knew that when the movie made it to the big screen, she’d see it many times. It was as close as she was going to get to be a part of Dara’s life again.

Dara tossed the script down on the table. “This is never going to work.”

“What’s wrong?” Carolyn asked.

“What’s wrong? Are you listening to these lines? This isn’t Celeste. I don’t know who the hell it is, but it isn’t Celeste.”

Carolyn lowered her copy of the script. “It’s the screenwriter’s version of Celeste,” she said practically. “You know as well as I do that when Constance sold the rights, she lost any say over the film version.”

“It wasn’t practical for me to write it. It wasn’t like Constance was going to be able to be on set to consult with the director, now was it?” Dara went to the refrigerator and yanked the door open. She looked inside for something to eat, decided she didn’t want anything, and slammed it shut again. When she returned to the living room, Carolyn was sitting there, patiently waiting for her.

“Are you done having a temper tantrum?”

Dara laughed. “It did sound a little like that, didn’t it?”

“It’s been sounding a lot like that ever since you left New York.” Carolyn’s voice was gentle, but her message was unmistakable.

“We’re not going to go there. You know that, right?”

“You and I both know you’ve been miserable ever since the encounter with—”

“You are so going there.” Dara shook her head.

“Am I wrong?”

Dara didn’t want to answer. They both knew it was true. “What do you want me to say?” She threw up her hands.

“I want you to acknowledge that in the two weeks since, nothing has happened. Zero. No tabloids have run anything, no entertainment shows have broken the story. No magazines are talking about it.”

“Yet.”

Carolyn jumped up. “There is no ‘yet!’ For God’s sake. In that timeframe the whole world knows you were cast to play Celeste. Don’t you think that if Rebecca wanted to cash in, she would’ve outed you as Constance in that context? Really? Could there have been a better time for her to do it? A more profitable time for her to do it?”

Dara took a step back. She couldn’t remember ever having seen Carolyn this animated. “What’s this really about?”

“What’s it about?”

“That was the question, yes.”

“You’re being incredibly unfair. This woman hasn’t done anything to harm you. On the contrary, she’s respected you and your privacy. You, on the other hand, haven’t shown her anything close to respect. You’ve judged her without even letting her have her say.”

“She had her say outside the studio.”

Carolyn gave her a withering glare.

“Change the subject,” Dara said.

Carolyn shook her head in disgust. “I’ve got to go. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

When she’d left, Dara stood in the middle of the room wondering what the hell had just happened.

Carolyn drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. She’d come perilously close to blurting out that she’d spent time with Rebecca and that the woman didn’t have a disingenuous bone in her body. Now, she was wondering what had stopped her from saying so out loud. She wanted to tell Dara about the meeting. She did.
Who are you kidding?
No, you didn’t.
As angry and cranky as Dara had been since Letterman, Carolyn couldn’t envision an upside to disclosing the meeting. She didn’t think Dara could hear her.