Dazzle The Complete Unabridged Trilogy (78 page)

Dazed, Tamara found herself flung by this exotic wizardry
into another world, a new dimension. It was as if the screen
test of the past and the screening room of the present were no
more. She herself seemed to have disappeared as an entity.

Her eyes were wide with disbelief. No, it simply could
not
be. Magic and miracles were phenomena which happened, if
at all, to others and not to her. But it
had
happened, and on
the grandest scale imaginable. The film proved it. The woman
on-screen did not appear to be acting, but actually living the
role, thanks to Ziolko's shrewd and manipulative direction
and editing. This radiant Tamara did not move gawkily like
the real one, but gloriously. Sensually. And she looked daz
zling. She enchanted and glittered, swept aside everything but
her own beauty, personality, and sexuality.

Several fleeting scenes melted swiftly one into the other.
Dumbfounded and numb with sudden pleasure, she watched
her giant double moving with inborn effortlessness and grace. She heard her voice—low, husky, and purring. Or at least she
thought it was her voice; it sounded strange and foreign to her
ears, not at all like her voice sounded when she heard herself
talk. She had had no idea that her voice could sound so allur
ingly husky, so smokily sexy.

And then came the final scene Ziolko had made her perform
over and over until his exacting standards of perfection had
been met. How simple and fluid, how perfectly
right
the scene
seemed now, with her and Miles Gabriel doing a frenzied,
sexually charged Charleston. Miles was exceedingly smooth
and handsome in white tie and swallowtails, his gleaming black
hair combed back, his pencil-line moustache adding a lusty
animalism to his sensuous lips, and she
...
no, that simply
cannot be me! she thought in rapt astonishment.

She was shaking now, her heart working overtime and ham
mering against her rib cage as she finally saw that that wondrous, exquisitely costumed creature was indeed she. Slightly
overweight, with a nose that definitely did not photograph
straight in the close-ups—nor were her eyes perfectly matched,
those same critical eyes told her. But none of it mattered.
What did matter was the electricity sparking on the screen,
the fact that she had somehow conquered that expanse of
silver canvas, had drawn the focus of attention and through
some magic forced it to remain on her, never letting go.

Enraptured, she stared at her new glossy self, dizzy with
entrancement.

Suddenly she gave a start. Just as she was getting caught up
in the miracle on-screen, the film finished rushing through the
rattling projector and giant white dots flashed and flickered
on a pale grey background.

The joy that had buoyed her spirits higher and higher sud
denly evaporated. It was over. She felt sad, depleted. She
wished it could have gone on forever.

'Lights, Sammy,' Skolnik called out into the darkness. Then
he leaned toward Tamara, lowering his voice confidentially.
'Well, what do you think?'

The overhead lights clicked on and she blinked rapidly, her
gaze still on the now-blank screen.

'Cat got your tongue?' Skolnik smiled smoothly. 'You didn't
like what you saw?'

She hesitated, trying to find an appropriate answer. It was
futile. Now that the test was already a blur in the past, she no
longer felt quite so sure of her rapturous opinions. After all, what did she know? Who was she to judge? 'I
...
I don't know,' she said uncertainly, turning to face him, her fingernails clawing into her thighs. 'Wh-what do
you
think?'

'I think the test speaks for itself. You do have a certain
quality,' he admitted carefully, 'and even your acting, though
it could stand some improvement, is not half-bad. As things
stand right this minute, I've little doubt that you'd be success
ful in quite a variety of pictures.'

She waited, barely daring to believe her ears. There was a stupendous rushing inside her head now, as if someone was
holding a giant seashell to her ear.

'I could, of course, sign you up for supporting roles immedi
ately,' he said. 'However, that'd be like uncorking a fine wine
prematurely, and I've never been a man to squander fine
things. I can afford to wait until the time is right. You see, I'm
not looking for just another actress. We have plenty of those
to choose from.'

'Then what are you looking for?' she managed to ask softly,
holding his gaze.

He stared at her. 'The most elusive, highly prized com
modity in this town.'

She frowned slightly.

'A star, Tamara, that's what I'm looking for,' he explained
frankly. 'Not just a great actress or another beautiful face,
but a full-fledged, runaway, box-office
star.
We have Miles
Gabriel, but he's our only major male star. We need others
like him. What's more important, we don't even have one
actress on a par with Gabriel.' He paused. 'I'm looking for a
woman to become that star.'

'And you think I . . .'

He half-smiled. 'I don't think, I know. The only problem is,
how far are you willing to go to reach that exalted status?'

She didn't speak, since she had no idea what he meant.

'There are, of course, your weight, your nose, your eyes,
your teeth. All cinematic obstacles to consider.'

She gave a low, husky laugh. 'I'm afraid I was born this way.
Unfortunately, I can't climb back inside the womb and come
out differently.'

He gave her a peculiar look. 'Can't you?' His voice was
hushed.

'Of course not. You know there's nothing I can do except
lose some weight.'

'That isn't entirely true. Your teeth are a simple matter,' he
said easily. 'They can be capped right here in L.A.'

'But what about my nose?' She stared at him broodingly.
'My eyes?'

He continued smiling slightly, though she noticed his cheek
bones had gained angular tautness, and she was alarmingly
aware that he was no longer concealing the predatory
expression of a tiger smelling blood. She realized then and
there that this was a man who always got what he wanted.
Beneath his handsome tanned skin was a skeleton of steel. A
tingling chill of fear rippled up and down her back.

'There is a doctor in Italy,' he told her, 'a pioneer really.
He is making remarkable progress in a relatively new field
called reconstructive surgery.'

'I've never even heard of it.'

'I'm not surprised. Neither have most doctors.'

'And this doctor . . .
he
can change my nose and eyes?' she
asked in disbelief.

He nodded.

She turned away from him, staring blankly at the screen.

'Would you consider it?'

Her voice took on a harried shrillness. 'I don't even know
what I'd be letting myself in for!' Tensely she bit down on
her lip and then faced him again, her eyes slashing shards of brilliant green ice. 'I take it it's called reconstructive surgery
because there is surgery involved.'

He nodded expressionlessly.

She clenched her index finger and bit down on it. She was
totally deflated, and frightened as well.
Surgery.
The very
word filled her with dread. She had never heard of anyone
healthy agreeing to undergo an operation. And just to
improve your looks . . .

'I have your contracts drawn up,' Skolnik said negligently.
He paused. 'How does one thousand dollars a week for seven
years sound? Guaranteed. You start getting paid as soon as
you sign.'

She was speechless.
One thousand dollars a week! That
was
unheard-of. She sat bolt upright, her mind reeling in shock as
she swiftly calculated astronomical figures. Why, that came
to . . .

A fortune.

She cringed at a stomach spasm.

That was more than enough to secure her future forever. But
at what a price.

Surgery.

He was waiting patiently. Only the occasional sound of creaking leather as he shifted in his chair reminded her that
he was there.

After a while she found her voice. It was shaky and subdued.
'I take it that these terms are all contingent upon whether or
not I agree to the surgery?'

Skolnik nodded. 'That they are.'

'But how do you know the surgery will be successful?'

'Dr. Zatopek comes highly recommended.' His face was
solemn. 'I am living proof.'

'You!' She frowned deeply. 'I don't understand.'

'It's simple. I've personally tested all the new aircraft devel
oped by Skolnik Aviation, and I've had more than my fair
share of crashes. One in particular nearly did me in. You should have seen me before Dr. Zatopek patched me up. I
looked monstrous enough to send little children running.' He
chuckled slightly. 'As a rule, Dr. Zatopek restricts himself to accident victims, but with you he'll make an exception. You
wouldn't believe the techniques he's developed. And, seeing
as how you're almost perfect as is . . . well, I'll wager anything
you'll be the most beautiful woman this town has ever seen.'
A broad smile cracked his usually unsmiling lips.

'You've already talked to the doctor?'

He nodded. 'He's agreed to take you on. It's all been
arranged. I just received word yesterday.'