All That Lies Within (16 page)

In short order, Rebecca was able to determine that Dara had three key team members—a talent agent named Richard Church, a public relations representative named Colin Lafferty, and a business manager named Carolyn Detweiler. A few more keystrokes and she had copied contact information for all of them and saved it on her hard drive.

Logic would dictate that the public relations rep was the most likely contact point, but Rebecca didn’t like the idea of using a man as a go-between for such a delicate matter. So she googled the business manager.

Carolyn Detweiler, CEO of Detweiler Enterprises, represents an elite group of clients, including best-selling thriller king Randall Nabors, the reclusive Pulitzer-Prize winning author Constance Darrow, Oscar-winning director Peter Davidson, and mega box-office star Dara Thomas, who is described as her best childhood friend.

Rebecca sat back. “Bingo. You’re exactly who I’m looking for.” Now if she could just figure out what she wanted to say.

Carolyn read the e-mail for the third time. Still, she couldn’t decide what to do. She knew she should make Dara aware of it.
You know what she’ll say. She’ll tell you to turn it down out of hand.
Carolyn rubbed her temples where the beginning of a monster headache was forming.

She already was going to be on thin ice when Dara realized who the featured artist was at the gallery exhibit opening they were slated to attend tonight.

Again, she scanned the contents of the e-mail. It wasn’t as though Rebecca was asking to meet with Dara. She wanted to sit down with Carolyn. Carolyn was an adult, fully capable of taking a meeting with anyone she so chose. Technically speaking, this had nothing to do with Dara.
You keep telling yourself that, Car.

Before she could reconsider what she was doing, Carolyn typed out a quick response, then closed out of her e-mail, grabbed her suit jacket off the hangar on the back of her office door, and headed down the hall toward the elevator.

Rebecca checked the address again for the Carnegie Deli, then glanced at her watch. Carolyn said she’d be there at 11:45 a.m. and would give Rebecca a half-hour window to make it. It wasn’t much notice, but Rebecca didn’t care. She picked up the pace and arrived a few minutes later.

The deli was packed to overflowing. Rebecca wondered how in the world she would find someone she’d never seen before in such a crowd.

“Lookin’ for someone, hon?”

Rebecca eyed the young hostess. “I am.”

“Lemme guess. Carolyn Detweiler, right?”

“Yes.”

“She’s waitin’ for ya. Follow me.” The hostess led Rebecca through the tightly packed seating area to a corner table in the back.

“Thank you,” Rebecca said to the hostess’s retreating form. When she turned around, she was face-to-face with a woman who might have been indistinguishable from any businesswoman in the restaurant, save for the expensive and well-tailored clothes.

“You must be Rebecca.” Carolyn put out her hand for Rebecca to shake. Her grip was soft, but firm, and her smile was warm.

“And you must be Ms. Detweiler.”

“Call me, Carolyn, please. Have a seat.” Carolyn indicated the seat opposite her and Rebecca took it.

“Thank you for seeing me. I’m sure your schedule must be ridiculously busy.”

“You made it sound important.” Carolyn handed Rebecca a menu. “Best to get our orders in. This place is insane at this hour.”

“Right.” Rebecca opened the extensive menu and glanced up at Carolyn as she perused her own menu. “What do you recommend?”

“Everything is huge and to-die-for. If you like that sort of thing, the Reuben is phenomenal, as is the roast beef.” After a second, Carolyn added, “You’re not a vegetarian, are you?”

“Me? No. Nope. I’m a meat-lover from way back.” Rebecca’s leg bounced up and down underneath the table and she struggled to be still. Could she sound any more nervous? Now that she was sitting here, she wasn’t sure contacting Carolyn had been the right thing to do. What was it she really wanted to say? What did she want to ask for? And how could she do it without sounding asinine?

“You know, I think I’ll just have a cup of coffee.” As nervous as she was, Rebecca couldn’t imagine keeping a sandwich down now.

Carolyn arched an eyebrow. “Okay, coffee it is.” She motioned for the waitress.

As Carolyn ordered two cups of coffee, Rebecca used the opportunity to study her more closely. Something about her seemed familiar… Then it clicked. Carolyn had been there during the exchange with Dara. She had shouldered her way into the crowd, nudging Rebecca’s arm in the process. Had she heard the whole thing?

When the waitress left, Carolyn folded her hands under her chin. “So, what can I do for you, Rebecca?”

Rebecca picked up her napkin and put it in her lap as she struggled to collect herself. “As I indicated in my e-mail, I’m a professor of American literature. I’ve been studying and teaching Constance Darrow’s work to my students.”
Don’t waste time rehashing things she knows
.
Get to the point.

“Several months ago, I wrote to Ms. Darrow and we began a correspondence.” Rebecca forced herself to make eye contact. “Perhaps you already know that?”

“I do.”

“Of course you do. It’s naïve of me to think that someone as famous as Constance Darrow would open her own mail. I’m sure it probably goes through several filters. I apologize for my ignorance.”

“It’s okay. And it’s not ignorance. We in this business rarely advertise the way things work behind the scenes.” Carolyn’s tone was sympathetic—not the least bit condescending—and her smile was kind.

The waitress came with their coffee and a huge slice of cheesecake that Rebecca hadn’t heard Carolyn order. There were two plates and two forks.

Rebecca’s eyes widened and Carolyn laughed.

“This could feed half the population of a third-world country.”

“Welcome to New York, where everything is larger-than-life. Shall I?” Carolyn indicated the cheesecake and a knife.

“Sure.” Rebecca held the second plate still as Carolyn slid half of the cheesecake onto it.

“I’m a firm believer that life is short, we should eat dessert first.”

“That works for me.”

“Best cheesecake in town,” Carolyn said. “Go ahead, try it. If you don’t love it, I’ll… Well, I don’t know what I’ll do, but it will be dramatic.” She chuckled.

With a start, Rebecca realized she really liked Carolyn. She was accessible and easy to be around. “May I,” Rebecca started, then stopped to gather her courage. “May I be completely honest and frank with you?”

“I would love that. It would make you such a refreshing change from most of the people I have to deal with every day.”

“I bet.” Rebecca put her fork down and took a deep breath. “Now that I know what you look like, I recognize you. I mean, I recognize your face. I saw you after the taping of
The Letterman Show
. I know you were standing close enough to hear what I said to Ms. Thomas.” Rebecca swallowed hard. “You did hear, didn’t you?”

Carolyn nodded, but said nothing.

“Right. Well, I didn’t get a chance to say so, because it all happened so quickly, but I want Ms. Thomas to know that I would never, ever, violate her privacy. I would never say anything to jeopardize her in any way.” Rebecca faltered, as tears welled in her eyes. She looked around to make sure no one nearby was paying attention to them, composed herself, and continued.

“She’s brilliant. I have so much respect for her and
all
of her work. I’m not the kind of person who goes around shooting off my mouth. She has absolutely nothing to worry about from me. I’ll never say a word. I promise.”

Rebecca fumbled in her purse for a Kleenex and dabbed at the corners of her eyes. She was surprised when Carolyn reached across the table and put a hand over hers.

“I believe you.”

“You do?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.” Rebecca was overcome by a rush of gratitude. “Why?”

That startled a laugh out of Carolyn. “You’re unique, you know that?”

“I’ve been called worse.”

“Call it intuition. Call it an educated guess. I believe you’re telling the truth.” Carolyn leaned forward. “So, in that spirit, I’m going to explain something to you.”

Rebecca leaned forward, as well. “Okay.”

“Dara’s life hasn’t been easy. She’s been badly hurt before. It’s difficult for her to trust that someone wants to know her.
Really
know her.” Carolyn held Rebecca’s gaze.

“I can’t even begin to imagine,” Rebecca said. She checked again to make sure their conversation was private. It was, but she still wanted to be as circumspect as possible. “I can see why she would keep the two ‘things’ so separate. The ‘other’ gives her something of her own—something not connected to the face the public sees, a place where her soul can shine honestly and on its own merits.”

Carolyn sat back. A slight smile played on her lips. “Exactly. And, might I add, quite eloquently stated.”

“I meant it.”

“I believe you did.”

“When I researched the author for my course, I was frustrated that I could find next to nothing about her. After all, most literature illuminates the experiences of the author or vice versa. With no context to work with, it made discussing the origin and genesis of the material rather…challenging.”

“That makes sense.”

“But knowing what I know now, I understand so much more. The author is such a gifted writer, a real student of human nature. A great observer. Her characters reflect a bone-deep knowledge of what motivates people.” Rebecca was warming to her favorite subject. “And yet, her protagonists almost always yearn for something more. It’s as if the life they lead is not real and what is real, what they truly yearn for, is always just out of reach. There’s such depth, such passion in the prose.” Rebecca stopped talking when she realized she’d slipped into professor mode. “I’m sorry. I tend to get carried away.”

Carolyn chuckled. “I can see that. Nothing to apologize for. I’m certain the author would love to know her work inspired such strong enthusiasm.”

Rebecca’s stomach dropped and her heart stuttered. “No, she wouldn’t. Not now.” She felt the lump rise up in her chest and into her throat. “If I had it to do over again, I never would have said anything. I can’t explain what I was thinking, except to say that I wasn’t thinking. If I’d only kept it to myself. I should’ve realized…” Rebecca stopped and blew out an explosive breath.

“Anyway. I can’t imagine I’ll ever get another letter from Constance. I just wanted her to know that she doesn’t need to be looking over her shoulder. There is no other shoe that’s going to drop. I’ll never bother her again.”

Rebecca reached into her purse, pulled out enough cash to pay the bill, and stood. “Please…” She couldn’t choke back a sob. “Please tell her how much I admire her heart and soul and her intellect. Please tell her how much I enjoyed our correspondence and how much it meant to me. And please tell her I wish her all the best. She’s an extraordinary gift to the world, in all ways.”

“Rebecca—”

Rebecca couldn’t look Carolyn in the eye. “Thank you so much for seeing me. I didn’t think you would. I’m so glad you did. Thank you for listening. And you were right, this is the best cheesecake I’ve ever had. Take care, Carolyn.”

Rebecca didn’t wait for a reply. She simply ran, dodging tables and patrons along the way, her heart aching with every step.   

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“Tell me again why we’re going to a gallery opening for a Southwestern landscape photographer?” Dara asked.

“I’m sorry. What?” Carolyn maneuvered through the early evening traffic on the way to the Everest Priest Gallery on the East Side.

“Hello? Earth to Carolyn. Where the heck are you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you haven’t said two words since we got in the car and you’re lights on, nobody’s home. What gives?”

“Nothing.” All afternoon, Carolyn hadn’t stopped thinking about her meeting with Rebecca. She wasn’t ready to tell Dara about it; she hadn’t finished fully processing it herself. “What was your question?”