The Fan Letter (18 page)

All this time, as the pair wandered around, they never noticed the bearded man who followed their every move.

At ten-thirty, they found seats towards the front of the auditorium to watch a slide show that featured behind-the-scenes looks at the cast and stills from various episodes. Leslie found herself looking over at the long white-draped table that had eight empty chairs behind it. She didn't even notice the elaborate floral spray that extended the length of the table.

The announcer, Frank, finished the narration on the slides and again welcomed the conventioneers. He was greeted with loud applause and verbal affirmation.

“Well, I see all of you are in high spirits,” he beamed. “That's great. We're glad each and every one of you is here. Are you having fun yet?”

Feet were stomped and whistles were heard.

“That's great!” Frank replied. “So are we. And now, we won't keep you waiting any longer, Silicon Valley. Here they are! The stars of your favorite show—Maxwell Marlowe, Eddie Chase, Cindy Sanders, and Tom Young!”

Leslie's mouth dropped open and she looked at Janice. “Where's Phillip?” she yelled over the thunderous ovation the stars were given. Janice could only shrug.

The announcer then introduced the director, Ron Nickles, and two writers for the show. The crowd was still on their feet. Only Leslie and Janice remained seated. Wayne looked over from one row away and could see the obvious disappointment on Leslie's face. He smiled smugly to himself.

The crowd finally quieted down and retook their seats. The stars smiled warmly and waved at some children who ran to the edge of the stage. Flashes from dozens of cameras were still going off.

“Well,” Frank cooed into his microphone, “I can tell you know who these people are!”

The crowd went wild with applause again.

Then Frank told them, “I know you all notice the empty chair. That was for Phillip Beck who, as you know, portrays Professor Rex Farrell on the show. Well, he was planning on being here to meet all you wonderful fans, but he was called back to the set of a movie he is filming and had to cancel.”

There was a small groan that came from a few of the fans. Leslie looked over at Janice and muttered, “Oh, well, we tried.”

The announcer opened the floor for questions and was greeted with a field of waving hands.

“Tom, are you married? Wanna be?”

“Eddie? Will your Andrew and Maggie ever really get together?”

“Cindy, want to go out for a drink later?”

“Has the show been renewed?”

“Can we take pictures?”

“How much money do you make an episode?”

“What is your favorite episode?”

“How long does it take to shoot a show?”

“Who makes the most mistakes?”

“Will The Loner ever get to keep the girl or will you keep killing them off?”

“Mr. Nickles, my cousin directs at a local theater. Need an assistant?”

“Would you accept a script from a local writer?”

“How old are each of you?”

“Which current problems in the world will you be fixing next season?”

“Will you ever do a theater-released movie?”

And so it went for the entire hour. The stars were generous and laughing with their answers or deferments. The writers told about some episodes coming up next season and how ideas are transferred into scripts.

Frank interrupted them all to say there would be another question and answer session later from four o'clock until five, but, for now, the stars would take a fifteen minute break. Then all were invited to the autograph session to be held in the fern grotto. Another ovation was given as the seven panelists exited waving and smiling. There was a rush of noise and movement as the fans streamed out of the auditorium. Some headed back to the merchandise room. Some went to lunch. Some stood around and exchanged fan club gossip. Quite a few—including Leslie, Janice and Wayne—headed for the fern grotto and patiently got into another line.

Janice started in again. “Did you see they have your book for sale?” and “Are you going to send a message back to Phillip Beck?” and “Did you hear what they said about looking for scripts? You're all ready for them.”

“Janice!” Leslie pleaded, “Stop! I already told you Phillip probably didn't intend on meeting me. He probably knew about this all along. They'll send him a cut of the take, no doubt. Two extra losers came to the convention.”

Janice just smiled. “Oh, sure. Now you're being silly. He was called back to the studio. You heard that. He told you he was really busy.”

“He always says that,” Leslie pouted, noticing a few people looking back to catch their conversation. “Drop it for now, okay?”

“Do you think he gave your book to Tom?” Janice persisted.

“Doubt it. It didn't sound like he was going to. Maybe I can find out when we go through the line. With all these people I'll only have a few seconds.”

“Well, you'd better get that look off your face,” Janice told her. “You look like a thundercloud.”

Janice finally fell silent, to Leslie's relief and she looked around the crowded hotel. A few fans were strolling around in homemade versions of the show's uniform. Some were browsing through magazines. Janice suddenly nudged Leslie who jumped as though startled. “Hey, look, Les. They're reading your book!”

A couple of conventioneers were indeed relaxing in chairs reading the opening pages of THE LONER FINDS LOVE. Leslie found her mood lightening as she watched them for a while.

“Well,” she remarked to Janice, “that makes seven books in public hands.”

“Eight. There goes another one,” Janice pointed.

A
s the line moved forward Leslie took her copy of her novel out of her purse. She felt her stomach tighten as she got closer to the table where the four stars of the show were greeting people. First Maxwell, then Cindy, Eddie and lastly, Tom. There were large eight-by-ten studio pictures to be bought and signed at the head of the table. There were no pictures of Phillip. Most of the fans bought one of each star, Leslie noticed, but she passed them by.

She shyly offered the front blank page of her book to Maxwell, and then to Cindy and thanked them. When it was his turn, Eddie looked up at her and smiled as he took the book. He said hello, and as he asked for her name he glanced at the front of the book at the picture on the cover.

“I don't look very happy, do I?” he remarked as he looked back at Leslie. His smile altered as he again looked at the front cover. It was obvious he was comparing the faces.

Leslie blushed. “I guess it is because Andrew isn't too happy with the newcomer Jane.”

“What did you say your name was again?” Eddie asked in a friendly way, his pen poised.

“Just Leslie. That's fine,” she mumbled.

“Nice to meet you, Leslie,” he said as he handed the book back. He then tapped Tom as Leslie moved down a step and said, “Bunny,” in a low voice.

Leslie heard what he had said and saw Tom do a double-take at her. She got all red and flustered again. Janice, who was having the time of her life, prodded her to go to Tom's station.

“I wonder if you could sign this for me,” Leslie managed to choke out.

“Did anyone ever tell you that you look like the girl on the cover?” Tom smiled as he looked at the novel's front. “I'll sign yours, Leslie Nelson, if you'll sign mine. Phil told me you might come to the convention when he brought over my copy. I really enjoyed reading it,” as he pulled the book out from under his chair.

Leslie looked from Eddie to Tom. She grinned broadly to match theirs. Before she could reply, there was a loud, “You're holding up the line” yelled from the back.

Leslie blushed again. “Oh, dear. I…sure, I'll sign yours.”

Tom took her book with the cast signatures and put it under the table. “Tell you what, Leslie,” he said quietly, coming to an instant decision without thinking it through—or discussing it with Eddie. “Have dinner with Eddie and me after all this is over. We'd both like to talk about your book. Okay?” he smiled warmly.

“I'm not alone. Janice, my friend, is with me,” she stammered, motioning with her hand in the wrong direction from where Janice was standing.

“Great! The more the merrier,” Tom grinned, ignoring Eddie's kick under the table. “I'll make the necessary arrangements. See you later,” he said as he motioned over an assistant. He pointed out Leslie and Janice, and the aide came over to them, leading them away from the nosey crowd.

“If you two ladies will come to the El Dorado Suite at six this evening, Mr. Young and Mr. Chase will be waiting for you. I do advise you not to mention the suite name to anyone else. Now, if you will give me your names, I will meet you at the door at six.”

Leslie and Janice complied. Leslie then remembered, “Oh, I have Tom's book and he has the one signed by everyone else.”

The aide told her, “You can exchange them at dinner tonight. It would be best not to say anything here. See you later, ladies.”

The two women looked at each other as he walked off. “We're having dinner with Tom Young and Eddie Chase,” Leslie murmured, wide-eyed.

“If you scream, I swear I'll slap you!” Janice warned. “I remember your reaction when Phillip called you that time.”

“No, no, I'm fine.” Leslie was actually stunned. “What did he mean by ‘bunny’ after he looked at me? Do my teeth look funny?”

“I don't know. We'll ask him at dinner,” Janice told her, peering at her friend's white face. “Are you really all right? You're awfully pale.”

Leslie put Tom's copy of her book in her purse. “I'm fine. I just can't believe this. Let's have lunch,” she said suddenly and started walking towards the hotel's main restaurant.

The bearded man had seen Tom switch the books and then motion for the assistant. He could tell Leslie was shocked and Janice was excited. He just didn't know why. Following them into the restaurant, he figured Janice would soon announce what was going on.

B
oth women found themselves getting nervous as six o'clock approached. Janice became more talkative, and Leslie became more silent. They had attended the rest of the convention events scheduled for that day and finally entered one of the brass elevators. As they weren't alone in the elevator, they discontinued their on-going speculation on what the evening would be like.

Leslie took off her glasses to clean them just for something to do with her hands. Janice looked mildly disgusted. “You should have worn your contacts,” she stated again.

“How was I to know? We would have been home by now.”

“Well, we could leave,” Janice kidded.

“Yeah, right!” Leslie laughed. Both of them knew nothing on earth could turn them away now.

After numerous stops, the elevator eventually reached the top floor. There were only Leslie, Janice and the disguised Wayne left when the doors slid apart. The view down to the main floor lobby was lovely with all the white lights in the trees and the six-story tall waterfall.

The same assistant met them at the door marked El Dorado Suite, ushering them into a large living area with an L-shaped white sectional sofa, glass and brass accent tables, a desk and chair done in antique white, and a honey oak entertainment center. Their gaze fell on a dining table set for four near the picture window overlooking the lights of the city. Three large fresh flower arrangements, oil paintings, and an Oriental silk screen that half-hid an oak bar did not escape their notice, nor that the room was beautifully tasteful.

From behind one of the three closed doors was the muted sound of male voices conversing. The far right door opened, and Tom Young came out with a grey-haired man who looked like he was in a tremendous hurry.

Tom smiled his greeting to the two women and brought the man over for introductions.

“Ron Nickles, this is Leslie Nelson, a new author for “The Time Police.” And this is…uh…” he faltered at Janet's name which had eluded him. “I'm so sorry.”

Leslie extended her hand which was cold. “Hello, Mr. Nickles. This is Janice Woods.”

Ron shook hands with each of them and abruptly turned back to Tom. “I need to call the studio. Tell Eddie I'll see him tomorrow. Ladies? A pleasure.” He nodded and rushed out of the suite.

Tom explained, “He's the director of the show. But, you probably knew that. Why don't you two go ahead and take a seat. Eddie is talking to his wife in New York. He'll be out in a minute. Can I offer you a drink?”

“White wine would be fine,” Leslie answered as she took Tom's book out of her purse. “This suite is lovely,” she commented as she took her glass of wine.

Tom looked around as if that was a new thought. He shrugged. “I guess so. In our line of work we travel so much that we get a little jaded. I never really notice.”

Leslie took a tentative sip. The wine proved to be excellent. “So, you don't like to travel? I love it. I only wish I could do more.”

Tom seemed to be thinking back. “Oh, yes. New York once and the Caribbean twice. And Janice, you have been to Europe.”

The women looked confused and a little wary. “How do you know that?” Janice asked him. She looked over at Leslie who likewise didn't understand how he could know that personal information.

Tom smiled a little sheepishly and looked down. “I
could
say that Phillip told me, but that wouldn't be completely true. I actually found out through your letters, Leslie.”

“My letters? To Phillip?” She blushed again. “I didn't think they were anything special to be passed around,” she confessed.

Tom grinned again. “Well, he didn't exactly pass them around. Phillip threw a party recently and I needed to use the phone. While looking for something to write on, I came across your letters and a picture of you fell out on the floor. A few lines caught my eye and I ended up reading all of them. I thought they were quite funny,” he told her as he looked steadily at her over his own wineglass.

“I'm surprised he kept them,” Leslie murmured. “But I am glad he gave you my book. The first manuscript I sent you apparently never reached you.”

He shook his head. “No, we don't see much mail,” Tom replied, looking disgusted. “We get so much. Then there are the legalities if we read something the general public wrote and it ended up in a show without going through the proper channels. But Phillip…” he broke off for a second. “Well, Phillip doesn't get that much, plus there are different rules for guest stars.”