“Dana, there’s nothing to appreciate. I’m glad I could be helpful. Just let me know how it goes.”
“I will.” Bless you.
“Flowers!” Olivia walked into the office with a large bouquet of flowers.
“They’re beautiful!” Dana exclaimed.
She opened the envelope and read the card. Dear Miss Evans, Our friend’s bark is worse than his bite. Enjoy the flowers. Jack Stone.
Dana studied the card a moment. That’s interesting, she thought. Jeff said his bite is worse than his bark. Which one is right? Dana had the feeling that Jack Stone hated his job. And hated his boss. I’ll remember that.
Dana telephoned Jack Stone at the FRA.
“Mr. Stone? I just wanted to thank you for the beautiful—”
“Are you at your office?”
“Yes. I—”
“I’ll call back.” Dial tone.
Three minutes later Jack Stone called.
“Miss Evans, it would be better for us both if a mutual friend didn’t know we were talking. I’ve tried to change his attitude, but he’s a stubborn man. If you ever need me—I mean really need me—I’m going to give you my private cell phone number. It will reach me anytime.”
“Thank you.” Dana wrote down the number.
“Miss Evans—”
“Yes.”
“Never mind. Be careful.”
When Jack Stone had gotten in that morning, General Booster had been waiting for him.
“Jack, I have a feeling that Evans bitch is a troublemaker. I want you to start a file on her. And keep me in the loop.”
“I’ll take care of it.” Only there’s not going to be any loop. And he had sent Dana flowers.
Dana and Jeff were in the television station’s executive dining room talking about Kemal’s prosthesis.
Dana said, “I’m so excited, darling. This is going to make all the difference in the world. He’s been belligerent because he feels inferior. This is going to change all that.”
“He must be thrilled,” Jeff said. “I know I am.”
“And the wonder is that the Children’s Foundation is going to pay for all of it. If we can—”
Jeff’s cell phone rang. “Excuse me, honey.” He pressed a button and talked into the phone. “Hello?…Oh…” He glanced at Dana. “No…It’s all right…Go ahead…”
Dana sat there, trying not to listen.
“Yes…I see…Right…It’s probably nothing serious, but maybe you should see a doctor. Where are you now? Brazil? They have some good doctors there. Of course…I understand…No…” The conversation seemed to go on and on. Jeff finally said, “Take care. Good-bye.” He put the phone down.
Dana said, “Rachel?”
“Yes. She’s having some physical problems. She canceled her shoot in Rio. She’s never done anything like that before.”
“Why is she calling you, Jeff?”
“She has no one else, honey. She’s all alone.”
“Good-bye, Jeff.”
Rachel hung up reluctantly, hating to let go. She looked out the window at Sugarloaf in the distance and Ipanema Beach far below. She walked into her bedroom and lay down, exhausted, the day reeling tipsily through her mind. It had started off well. That morning she had been shooting a commercial for American Express, posing on the beach.
Around noon the director said, “That last one was great, Rachel. But let’s do one more.”
She started to say yes and then heard herself saying, “No. I’m sorry. I can’t.”
He had looked at her in surprise. “What?”
“I’m very tired. You’ll have to excuse me.” She had turned and fled to the hotel, through the lobby, into the safety of her room. She was trembling and felt nauseated. What is the matter with me? Her forehead was feverish.
She picked up the telephone and called Jeff. The very sound of his voice made her feel better. Bless him. He is always there for me, my lifeline. When the conversation was over, Rachel lay in bed, thinking. We had some good times. He was always fun. We enjoyed doing the same things, and we loved sharing things. How could I have let him go? She made herself remember how the marriage had ended.
It had started with a telephone call.
“Rachel Stevens?”
“Yes.”
“Roderick Marshall is calling.” One of the most important directors in Hollywood.
A moment later he was on the line. “Miss Stevens?”
“Yes?”