Secrets of a Soap Opera Diva (17 page)

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Authors: Victoria Rowell

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“Poor you.” She dismissed her before saying pointedly to Wolfe, “The two of you are cut from the same cloth.”

“How right you are. Consummate professionals. I only regret I never had the pleasure of sharing a storyline or two vith her. If you hadn’t had the forethought of marrying the producer, you vould have been playing an aging Sleeping Beauty at Disneyland years ago.”

Alison had turned around to give Wolfe a piece of her mind when she zeroed in on Phillip and me standing at the threshold of the lavish living room to swelling violins playing Beethoven’s Concerto in D Major, a full-size portrait of Barrett Fink in the background. Flattering filtered light illuminated Jade, Ethan, and Wilson Turner (now the preacher) all in place. Naturally there were no other family members for the black cast; it was assumed we raised ourselves in the wild.

Costumed in Sonia Rykiel, Emmy was oblivious, wildly texting in her seat, “Hey Snuggle Bunny, are you watching? Get ready. XOXOXO.”

The room was decorated with lit candles, white roses, peonies, and a smattering of extras, including arbitrary bad child actors stiffly saying their one line like wooden soldiers, beamed in by stage mothers hoping for a
National Velvet
breakthrough.

If there was anything a Barringer production didn’t skimp on it was candles, flowers, and real champagne for a wedding, budget or no.

With everyone on their tired, swollen feet, Alison arched her eyebrow and said, “Damn, the bitch looks absolutely fabulous.”

Clad in her unwearable secondhand wedding dress the Pattern Cutter had stitched together partially, I found out later, with one of her tablecloths, I was, critics argued, the most radiant bride
The Rich and the Ruthless
had ever seen. My hair, upswept in a regal Audrey Hepburn–inspired do courtesy of my emergency glam squad from Inglewood, was adorned with those dewdrop Czechoslovakian hand-blown crystal beads. Only I rocked the baubles like nobody’s business.

As Phillip escorted me down the aisle, I caught Wolfe’s eye as he mouthed, “Knock ’em dead.” I beamed, heading toward my soap opera
wedding crescendo. He was my favorite person on the show besides Shannen.

“Calysta certainly looks better than you did stuffed in that marshmallow monstrosity all those years ago,” Maeve whispered to her TV daughter.

Alison sat in the throes of stunned silence, bitterly realizing none of their conspiracy was working out the way they’d hoped.

CHAPTER 20
The Martini

Over the last two years, Ethan had thoroughly ruined the popular character Derrick made famous, instantly transforming him into a minstrel, complete with spoons and tap-dancing to the Virginia Reel. He delivered the lines exactly as written, but for once, at least for
our
Wedding of the Century, I wished he would rail against Felicia Silverstein’s blatant attempts to keep the black characters on the show in a perpetual place of servitude.

“Ugh.” Those insipid lines replayed in my head as I undid the hook-and-eyes to my bodice, watching Nancy Grace while I nursed my knee with an ice pack in my dressing room. I’d strained it during my fight scene on the roof of Fink Manor.
R&R
had been too cheap to hire a stuntwoman.

Felicia tried so hard to keep Dove as Ruby Stargazer’s “one true love” after Derrick left the show. Her small myopic brain thought the fans would buy into anyone brown.
Wrong
. Everyone knew Derrick’s Dove Jordan was the real love of Ruby Stargazer’s life and no replacement was ever going to work.

I played the oldest trick in the book, resisting Ethan on camera in
hopes the producers would fire him. It was no secret I missed the amazing chemistry I felt with Derrick.

“What does it matter now anyway?” I sighed aloud. “I’m leaving the show; who cares who Ruby’s true love is?”

“Hey, Calysta,” Shannen said, walking in.

We were temporarily sharing my dressing room because of all the extras and full cast, plus special accommodations that
should
have been for Grammy Award–winning guest artist John Legend, after much begging by Weezi to Edith on my behalf to spice up the soap and boost sagging ratings. Come to find out the WBC never came up with the money, so instead they hired R&B duo K-Ci and JoJo.

“Oh, hey,” I said, grateful for the interruption. “How’s the gang behavin’?”

“It’s pretty quiet, to tell you the truth. Emmy’s hiding out in her dressing room, guess she’s afraid of running into Bonnie.”

Bonnie Blackburn had played the role of Uranus Winterberry, the most dastardly villainess in the history of
The Rich and the Ruthless,
on and off for the past twenty years. The network paid her a queen’s ransom to return for Ruby’s final storyline.

“Do you remember Bonnie’s last stint on the show when Uranus Winterberry became involved in that torrid lesbian love affair with Emmy’s character?” Shannen asked.

“Who could forget? The affair soon spilled over into real life and onto all the tabloids. They couldn’t keep their hands off each other and didn’t care who saw their girl-on-girl lip locks, even at the annual fan club luncheon, now that was
crazy
.”

“Why do you think it suddenly ended?”

“Girl, where were you, under a rock? That gossip was all up and down the soapvine. It ended because Emmy found Bonnie in bed with another woman. She swore off Bonnie but Bonnie wasn’t about to let
chica
go, so things got a little aggressive on the set. Emmy actually hired a bodyguard for protection. Talk about
lipstick drama
.”

“Is it true Augustus threatened to fire both of them if they didn’t stop the madness?”

“Yep. Emmy ended up quitting for a year in protest, but nobody cared. She moved to Memphis and tried to get a country western singing contract but it was a bust. She begged for her job back on
R&R
.”

“Wow.”

“Wow, what?”

“I’m gonna miss all this. Who am I gonna talk to after you leave?”

“You’ll be fine,” I assured her.

“Yeah, but it won’t be the same without you.”

“You got that right.” I laughed. “And here’s something else I’m right about, you’re gonna be America’s next big soap star if this industry lasts long enough. Don’t let this bitter bunch steal your thunder, and whatever you do don’t get stuck, you have what it takes to do other projects. Keep your day job but stay hungry and keep your options open or else your fruit will die on the vine.”

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