Page 23 of His Girl Hollywood
Did it matter though? As an assistant to Joan Davis, she’d witnessed what Hollywood gossip columnists could do. How they could twist things. Leda Price might still be “on sabbatical” licking her wounds somewhere, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t another vulture waiting to pick at the fresh carrion Leda had left behind. Arlene blinked back hot, angry tears, imagining headlines accusing her of sleeping her way into the director’s chair. Never mind that she was the only Oscar winner on this soundstage. She’d be damned if anyone failed to take her seriously.
She resisted the urge to run back to her place behind the camera and walked to her chair, the one stenciled with her name and her job title. She placed her fingers on the lettering, drawing strength from the designation, forcing herself to remember why she was here. How much was at stake. She straightened her spine and called out to the set, “Okay, let’s try the scene again, if you’ll resume your place, Miss Carter.”
Her fingers ghosted over the wordDirectoronce more. That was who she was. Who she was born to be. The only dream that had ever really mattered. Romance was fleeting, but movies… They were forever.
“All right, try that again, Mr. Lamont. This time with Miss Carter. We’re ready?” she called out to the rest of the set. “Then, sound speeding…and action!”
Chapter 10
Finally, after a few extra takes for safety, they’d gotten the scene right. Arlene should’ve stayed on set afterward. To talk to Don and Rita about tomorrow; to review the plan with her camera crew and director of photography. But the longer she’d watched Don do the scene, embracing Rita as he had done with her, the more she thought she might suffocate. The walls of the soundstage were closing in on her, and she needed to catch her breath.
She’d turned heel as soon as she’d yelled “Cut,” declared it a wrap for the day, and made a beeline for her office on the studio lot. She rushed in, closed the door, and leaned back against it, shutting her eyes before inhaling deeply through her nose and exhaling, the word “Shit” coming out with the plume of air.
“Well, now that’s no way to greet your biggest fan.”
Arlene nearly jumped out of her skin. “Joan.” Her eyes shot open. “What are you doing here?”
Movie star Joan Davis—technically Howard now—was sitting in the swivel chair behind Arlene’s desk. Her black leather pumps were propped atop the desk next to Arlene’s Oscar and a disorganized stack of script pages. “I came to see how your first week went—and to take you out for a drink to celebrate.”
“Oh, that’s… You didn’t need to do that.”
Joan swung her heels down onto the parquet linoleum floorand stood. “Of course I did! I might have put some cracks in that old glass ceiling, but you’re obliterating it. That deserves at least one very strong cocktail. Besides, since Harry’s making me lie low for a while, I’ve got an awful lot of free time on my hands.”
Arlene blushed deeply. Joan was too good. Most of Hollywood was afraid of her and her take-no-prisoners attitude. But Arlene had only known her to be a caring and supportive friend. Even if she did see decidedly less of Joan since she’d married leading man Dash Howard. “Well, that’s very kind of you. But I’m worn out. Don’t have to tell you how exhausting making movies is. Next Friday night instead?”
Joan saw right through her attempt to dismiss her with the excuse of work. “What’s wrong, kid?”
“Joan, I am only four years younger than you.”
Joan grinned, her signature slash of red lipstick transforming from a cupid’s bow to a straight line interrupted by gleaming white teeth. “Yeah…so as I said,kid, what’s wrong? Don’t try to get out of telling me by pointing out technicalities.”
Arlene sighed and crossed behind the desk to sit heavily in her chair. She flung her arms atop it and buried her face in them. “Just…everything.”
“Is someone on that set disrespecting you? If so, I’ll set them straight. By the time I’m done, Harry won’t have much of them left to put on suspension. But I’ll still make sure he does.”
Arlene laughed. This was why she loved Joan. No one could match her for loyalty. “You’re going to ask him to put half the studio on suspension?”
“That bad?”
Arlene nodded, her forehead scraping against the desk as she remained flung across it. “That bad. They’re arrogant bastards, every one of them. But they’re my arrogant bastards. Them, I canhandle. Sending you running to Harry will only make things worse.”
Joan sat on the edge of the desk and reached out her hand, picking up Arlene’s chin and cradling it in her hand. “Then what is it? You can tell Mama. Tell Mama all.”
Arlene fought back the tears that welled up at Joan’s words. “It’s nothing, I’ll get over it. I lost my head for a minute today, that’s all.”
“Over the sets? The lighting? A costume? What? You’re the director now. You’ve got license to be a little tyrannical over your creative vision.”
Arlene huffed out a watery laugh. “No, I wish. Over Don Lamont.” Arlene groaned and pushed Joan’s hand away, leaning back in her chair and staring up at the tiled ceiling. Maybe she could stay here until tomorrow and count the dots in the ceiling. That should bore her enough to get this out of her system. To make her forget what an absolute fool she’d been.
Joan frowned. “Don Lamont? The new leading man from Broadway? Is he getting too big for his britches? This is his first picture, for Pete’s sake.”
Arlene huffed, a sigh making her lips flutter like a horse’s. “No. I mean, he is being irritating about the choreography, but it’s nothing like that.” She winced, not wanting to admit this. Joan could pick apart a secret faster than a kid could a scab. But Arlene was slowly losing her mind hiding her past with Don from the crew. “We have a history together. I’ve known him since we were children.”
Joan got a mischievous glint in her eye that made Arlene wish she’d kept her mouth shut. “Wait a second…you told me once that you’d been in love only once before. With a boy you grew up with. Arlene, it’s not… It can’t be.”
Arlene closed her eyes and nodded. “It is. Or it was…and I just kissed him on set in front of everyone.”
Joan gasped. “Oh, Arlene. Why?”