Love Play by Rosemary Rogers (4 page)

Privately, after she had hung up and Delight's abrupt revelation had had
time to be absorbed, Sara still felt some misgivings about the role she had
committed herself to play. Not quite the same as playing Ophelia in the drama
society's staging of Hamlet - and she'd been scared sick before every
performance. At least there'd been lines and stage directions to memorise then,
but on this occasion she'd have nothing to guide her but her instincts and her
knowledge of her half sister's mannerisms and life-style , And her own common
sense, of course.

The very next day, she found herself suddenly become Delight, her mind
cluttered with all the bits and pieces of information and trivia she was
supposed to remember. She had to remember and carry it through.

Sara blinked her eyes and turned away from the open sliding doors that
led on to a tiny terrace with a wrought-iron railing.

'You can almost see the ocean from here . . .' Delight had boasted once.
How she wished Delight was here with her! Or that she was back where she
belonged, playing tennis or riding. Damn — she had forgotten to check whether
Delight rode or not. Probably not, unless it was a Harley-Davidson!

The phone rang, making Sara jump. She felt nervous,' edgy. And with good
reason, she reminded herself stoutly as she snatched up the receiver, hoping it
would be Delight herself. Instead the voice she heard at the other end was
masculine and sounded slurred.

'Heyyy ... baby! Heard you were back in town. And you didn't call me.
What's up? Got someone new on the scene?'

Sara swallowed hard. 'I don't...' She hoped she sounded like Delight.
Damn, what now? She could never fool any of Delight's really close friends or
acquaintances, and who was this clown anyway?

'Hey, this is Andy! Good ol' Andy, your fuckin' stud. Remember the last
time we made it. . .?'

Sara's face had flushed a bright red in spite of her resolve not to be
shocked.

'That was the last time, Andy. Good-bye!' she said smartly, hanging up.
He'd better not call again. To make sure, she unplugged the telephone. Better
to be a coward than have to put up with that kind of thing!

To keep from thinking too far ahead, Sara planned what she would say if
anyone asked her why she hadn't answered her telephone: 'I knew I'd have to be
up early, and you know how badly I need my eight hours sleep! So . . .'

She bit her lip, stung by an unpleasant recollection. Damn - she did
have to be up at an extraordinarily early hour tomorrow morning. Through some
quirky twist of fate she, Sara, would be reporting as Delight for the first
day's shooting on Mohave, the new Garon Hunt movie. Now Delight's almost
prophetic words to her before they'd left New York were coming back to haunt
her, over the sounds of jazz music on the radio she'd turned up in defiance of
the street sounds outside. 'Haven't you ever wondered, sister dear, whether
you've inherited any of Mama-Mona's talent?'

Well - Sara turned slightly, facing her grave, rather uncertain
expressi6n in the mirror. Well, had she? The face that looked back at her
didn't even look like herself. Involuntarily, Sara put her hand up to her hair.
Amazing how different Delight's 'natural' hairstyle made her look. Wiping away
her scared-rabbit look, Sara practised curving her mouth into Delight's impish
smile that showed off a dimple. This was acting, wasn't it? Compared to playing
the part of her tempestuous, volatile sister, doing her bit in front of the
cameras was going to seem easy.

She felt like a zombie the next morning; dozing in the back of the
limousine that someone had been thoughtful enough to send for her. The driver
seemed to know her, and it was partly to avoid his sly grins and his almost
too-knowing looks in the mirror that Sara decided it would be safer to keep her
eyes closed until they had arrived at the studio -wherever it was located. She
supposed they'd have to take one of the freeways to get there - one did, she
had already discovered, just to get from one part of Los Angeles to another.

 
'Sure like that picture spread
you did for Fun and Games. That publicity for this new pic you're in?'

Sara's face had grown as hot as her voice came out frostily. 'No.'

Maybe he'd take the hint. There was a long pause, during which she
almost fell asleep, knowing she was escaping again.

'Tired, huh?'

'Hmmm.'

She wished he'd shut up. What would Delight do? Drawing her legs up and
stretching them along the luxuriously padded length of the seat, Sara said in
what she hoped sounded like a sleepy mumble: 'Do be a sweetie and wake me up
when we get there, hmm?'

She actually did fall asleep and didn't wake up until they stopped at
the gate to be checked in by a uniformed security guard. The limo drew up with
a flourish in front of a drab-looking building that was dwarfed by the huge
hangar-like proportions of the shooting stage behind it.

'They said you was to be delivered to Make-up first. Good luck, huh?'

Feeling slightly guilty Sara flashed him a grin and a 'thank you - I
appreciate your letting me sleep!'

'Sure.' He was a young man, and he looked after her rather wistfully as
she disappeared into the building. She sure didn't look much like her pictures!
Hard to tell if she had that luscious body he'd lusted for or not, under that
bulky sweat suit she'd worn against the morning chill. But he'd sure have liked
to have found out! So that was Delight Adams. Funny how they all looked kind of
disappointing when you saw them close up, especially early in the morning!

'Delight!'

The man who'd called her name and came hurrying towards her had a
prematurely lined and lugubrious face - a British accent. Remembering who he
was from pictures, Sara allowed him a smile. Lew Weisman was her mother's agent
too, and he had recently stepped into the picture to 'look after Delight'
during the making otMobave at Mona's insistence.

'He's always nagging, and he drives me up the wall sometimes, but I
guess I do like Lew,' Delight had confided during one of their 'indoctrination
sessions'. 'At least I'm sure he isn't trying to screw me — in more ways than
one!' And she laughed at the outraged look on Sara's face.

'Hi, Lew!'

He didn't smile back, his face long, his eyes darting almost accusingly
over her. '"Hi, Lew," she says. Just like that. Just like we weren't
supposed to have dinner together last night. And when I tried calling, you
weren't home. So what's the story this time?'

As his eyes continued to search her face, Sara wondered forr one ghastly
moment whether he was tumbling to the fact that she wasn't Delight after all.
She had to remind herself sharply that,Delight and Lew hadn't actually met face
to face since Mama-Mona had asked him to become her agent. So he didn't really
know her.

'I unplugged the phone.' When in doubt, tell the truth! Sara gazed at
him limpidly before lowering her eyes. 'I... I'd been getting some nuisance
calls before, and I wanted to get some sleep.'

'Hahl' She couldn't tell from his snort whether he believed her or not -
but it didn't matter, did it? Delight wouldn't let anyone browbeat her! 'Maybe
no one ever told you that an agent's time is valuable. I've got other clients
to nursemaid, kid, and don't you forget it!'

'Like Garon Hunt? Mmm - he's gorgeous! Are you going to introduce us?'

She was actually becoming Delight with remarkable ease, Sara thought
distantly, applauding herself. She looked back at Lew, challenging him.

To her surprise, he was shaking his head. 'Jesus Christ! That all you
can think about? I must be crazy, taking you on - almost busting a gut to get
you this role so you can change your image. Maybe you need a PR firm instead of
an
 
agent!'

She put her hand on his arm and it too, like her made-up face, looked
different with its long red nails. 'Corne on, Lew, be nice, can't you? I'm
sorry about last night, but I really did need the rest. I ... I was a bundle of
nerves!'

'Holy shit.. . the things I put up with! You're more like your mama than
I'd have guessed, you know that? But don't ever pull that kind of crap on me
again, you hear? I don't have the time to waste my time, Miss Adams!'

'I'm sorry, I truly am. And I really do mean to behave myself. I ...
I've decided to change. Sort of... be born again, you know?'

She might have been carrying things too fat, Sara conceded, watching the
changing expressions on Lew's face as he gazed at her measuringly.

'Never mind that,' he said finally in a gruff voice. 'You just prove to
them I was right to push you for the part of Fran, hear? You'd better do even
better than you did in your test, or I'm going to be a laughing-stock.'

She hadn't done anything but sit around yet. There was the possibility
that although she had to report on time each morning to be costumed and made
up, they wouldn't be shooting any of the scenes that she was to be in. But
sitting quietly tucked away in a corner of a sound stage, watching the actors
and the action, wasn't all new to Sara, who had watched her mother 'playing
rnake-believe' (as she'd called it as a child) on several occasions in the
past. It was funny, but she'd even got herself past the feeling of stage fright
that had dogged her all last night.

Sara found she could laugh - lightly, even - and she was suddenly
optimistic: Maybe I'm more like Mama-Mona than even you could have guessed,
Lew. I intend to be good in this part. So good they're all going to sit up and
take notice.

Chapter 4

The short but crucial love scene between Garon Hunt, playing an
undercover cop, and Delight Adams as Fran, a spoiled rich girl whose father
heads a dope ring, was taking longer than anticipated.

'What the hell is wrong with the stupid little bitch? She's taken all
her clothes off for the cameras before, and now she's fussing about baring her
boobs. For Christ's sake,you talk to her, Lew!'
 

Dan Raymond, directing this scene, was about ready to tear his thinning
hair. So it was a last-minute switch in the script, but it was Garon's idea,
and Garon was producing this one himself.

'Dan, you know damn well Delight wanted this part because it's a
straight role - a change from that other stuff she's done. She wants to show
the public she can act, not lust strut around showing off her fine tits and
ass. And it says in her contract - '

'Lew's right, Dan. And I'm sure Garon will let it go - it was just an
idea, trying the scene out with a different twist. You know what a
perfectionist he is!'

Lew Weisman's crooked smile acknowledged the unexpected support he'd
just received from Sally Lockwood, Garon's co-star and wife of fifteen years.
Theirs was one of Hollywood's more stable marriages, and Sally never displayed
any jealousy, even if Garon did occasionally play around on the side. Insiders
whispered that that was why she kept him.

'Thanks, Sal.'

She smiled, watching Dan stomp off.

"That's all right. Garon's a breast man, you know. And he wanted to
find out if hers were real or not. I rather think, though, that now he's more
intrigued by the fact that she was so stubborn about taking her blouse off for
that scene . . . oh, dear!'

'She won't go out with him. She's in love, she says. With a young man
she plans to marry. She told me he's the reason for her . . . change of heart,
shall we say?'

'That's nice. And she really does seem nice. I've always liked Mona, you
know. Garon used to have quite a crush on her - when they were doing bianca, do
you remember? We were newly-weds at the time, and she turned him down. Delight
does look a lot like her, don't you think?'

'Yes - and I've always had a crush on you, or have I told you that
before?'

While they were adjusting the lights and the make-up man was patting at
her face, Sara could see Sally and Lew laughing comfortably together. Lucky
Sally, to be married to a man like Garon Hunt. .. and to be so sure of him. She
must try not to remember the way she had blushed when Garon had said so
matter-of-factly: 'Why don't we try it one more time - this time without the
shirt, huh, sweetie?'

Now he came sauntering up to her, one eyebrow cocked. Thank God he
wasn't angry with her!

'So we get to do this one more time. And since you won't take the shirt
off, how about unfastening a couple of buttons for me?' His eyes were an
intense blue, and Sara found herself almost mesmerised by their clarity as he
called over his shoulder, 'Let's try it this way, Dan, I start on the buttons
while I'm talking to her - don't worry, baby, we'll keep the nipples covered -
and that'll ease us into the rest of the action.'

Delight would not be embarrassed! Delight would probably have taken her
shirt off quite nonchalantly, no matter who was watching. Sara bit her bottom
lip, and the make-up man ran up to retouch her lip gloss, clucking at her
crossly. She tried to meet Garon's amused blue gaze with insouciance.

'Okay - quiet please!'

This was take six and, please God, it would be the final one. She could
act. Acting was only playing make-believe-charades and pantomimes and dressing
up in grown-up clothes when she was a child. Thanks to Mona, it was in her
blood. And as she'd promised Lew, she was going to prove it to them all -
especially to Garon Hunt!

It was strange, how make-believe could almost turn into reality,
especially if you were really trying hard to believe. Sara, who was actually
quite shy and comparatively inexperienced, became lost somewhere behind the
brighter, bolder image of Delight - who in turn was playing Fran, a rnixed-up
young woman who had grown up grabbing too much, too quickly. Delight could
relate to Fran, would know exactly how Fran would react to this very exciting,
tough man who seemed to see right through her insolently challenging facade.