The Fan Letter (21 page)
Ms. Nelson's novel, her first published work, has been one of the most widely-accepted books based on the popular show. The next effort, WESTWARD REX, will be released within the month. Both parties are quite enthusiastic about the upcoming season.”
Phillip reread the article and looked again at the picture in the paper. Tom Young had his arm around Bunny's waist as she smilingly held up a contract. Richard Avery stood on her other side holding the pen. Eddie Chase and an unidentified man stood in the background. The photo was shot in Avery's office.
Phillip set the paper down with a sigh.
Why was it he always had to find out what's going on from the papers
, he wondered? He hadn't heard from Bunny in months and didn't know Majestic knew about her. Now she had signed a deal with Avery and she didn't even tell him about it.
He suddenly realized, once he stopped to think about it, that Bunny also hadn't written him about that convention he hadn't been able to attend or about the latest on her books. She hadn't told him she would be in town or for how long. He found, surprising himself, that he missed her letters.
Glancing again at the photo in the newspaper, Phillip's eyes stopped on Tom's arm around her waist.
That didn't seem a very appropriate pose for a publicity shot
. His mind clicked to a new thought: Maybe Tom could fill him about that conference with Avery.
After dialing Tom's home number, the phone was answered by Tom's housekeeper. No, Mr. Young was out to dinner with some author at Charney's. No, she didn't know who. They were celebrating some deal. No, they would probably be back late. Could she take a message?
Phillip didn't leave a message. He decided to go to the posh restaurant in Beverly Hills and join them for dinner. His curiosity had piqued over Bunny, and he felt this would be an excellent opportunity to meet his fan.
Running a hand over his jaw, he decided a quick shave and a change of clothes would be a good idea. Charney's was one of the better restaurants the actors frequented.
Phillip was pleased with his decision to take the initiative to finally meet Leslie. Pulling into the parking lot to leave his car with the valet, he figured out what he would say to congratulate her. There would also be an offer of his help with the scripts—something she had asked for and he had failed to do thus far in their correspondence.
The maitre d’ warmly welcomed Mr. Beck and asked if he was meeting anyone or would he like a table for one? Phillip asked for Tom Young's party.
“Oh, but Mr. Young and his guest left over thirty minutes ago. I am so sorry,” Roberto told him. “We still have some excellent seats, Mr. Beck.”
Phillip thanked him and went back out front. He handed the card to the valet who rolled his eyes in disgust. He had just gotten back from parking that car. Phillip didn't notice the reaction as he handed over a generous tip. He was trying to decide whether to go to Tom's new beach house or to go back home. After glancing at the clock, he headed home and figured he'd call Tom in the morning.
“
T
homas? Beck here.”
“Hey, Phil. Long time,” Tom answered in a friendly tone. “How's that television movie going over at North Star Studio?”
“It's all right. My part will be finished in a week and a half. I wanted to ask you about the deal Majestic signed with Bunn…I mean, Leslie. I saw the picture in the paper. How did it go with Avery? Did he try any of his tricks?” Phillip asked with a knowing grin.
Tom laughed. “Did he! Boy, I tell you, he tried them all. But that Leslie was sharp. She came prepared. She knew what she wanted with her books and stuck to her guns. Her agent mostly just sat there and helped with the contract. She handled all the fine print.”
“Like what?” Phillip wanted to know as he leaned back in his chair.
“Oh, like how Jane Barrett will look on the show and how much of her book will be used in the script. Things like that,” Tom replied.
“Did Avery try to buy the book outright?”
Tom gave a disgusted snort. “Yeah. For a ridiculous price. But,” he emphasized, clearly enjoying the telling of the tale, “that was not acceptable to Miss Nelson. She wasn't about to hand over her precious book with no say attached.”
“Where did Bunny learn those techniques of dealing with Avery? She didn't seem like that determined of a person to me,” Phillip commented with a puzzled frown.
“Well,” Tom confided, “she surprised all of us. Even herself, I found out later. She was pretty nervous about the whole meeting concept and having to deal with the head honcho and all. She was even shy and nervous when I met her at the airport. I hadn't contacted her since the convention and I guess she didn't believe I had been sincere.”
Phillip frowned to himself. He didn't know what Tom was talking about, but didn't want to ask. It sounded personal. Apparently they had spent more time together than he knew about.
Unaware of Phillip's level of concern, Tom continued. “She was surprised I met her or even knew she was coming. Then she was relieved to learn Eddie and I would be there at the conference. I told her what to expect from Avery.” Tom paused and laughed. “You wouldn't believe how mad she got in the back of the limo when she heard Avery wanted all the rights to her books! She wasn't about to do that! I thought she was going to turn the limo around and go back to Amherst right then and there.”
“What did you tell her?” Phillip prodded as Tom again fell silent and was laughing.
“Oh, just the usual advice about dealing with studio heads. I told her that Avery really wanted her work and what a good position she was in. I took her to the hotel and we both met her agent. Nice chap, by the way. We decided on a battle plan and I filled Eddie in on it before the meeting the next day. She was still nervous. I could feel her shaking as we went in. But, as soon as Avery came in, the show started.”
“Show? What show?” Caught up in the narrative, Phillip was confused.
“Leslie's show. She'd make a terrific actress, Phil. The scared look left her eyes and her mouth set in a most determined fashion. She lifted her chin, and then shook his hand as if he were the one being presented to her. Her voice didn't even quiver.”
Phillip smiled. Mr. Avery liked people to be afraid of him. “How did Richard react?”
Tom laughed out loud again and switched the phone to his other ear. “You should have seen the look he gave Nickles! Even Ron was amazed. They expected to walk all over her. As it ended, Les will do the rewrites herself—with some assistance from the main writers, if needed—and will have final say in which actress we hire, plus any changes.”
There was a low whistle. “Good job, Bunny,” was Phillip's comment. Those conditions were unheard of. “So she's moving down here?”
Tom paused as he thought back. “No, she never mentioned that. Avery is installing a fax machine at her place in Amherst—that was part of the deal. I offered my help with the scripts and all.”
“That's great,” Phillip muttered. “I'm glad for her. Is she still in town? I'd like to say hello.”
“No. I took her to the airport earlier today. Her agent left the day the contract was signed and took her third book with him. I asked Leslie to stay a few days.”
There was silence from both men. Tom expected Phillip to ask something else. Phillip was surprised by this revelation from Tom. “Oh. Did you show her the sights around here?”
“Naw, that wasn't necessary. Les is already pretty familiar with the area. We spent a lot of time here at the house. You know, talking about scripts and walking on the beach and all. Too bad I didn't know you wanted to meet her, Phil. I would have had you over or something.”
“Maybe next time. When is she coming back down to Los Angeles?”
Tom had to think on that. “Hmm. I don't know. She wanted some time to start on the scripts before I see them. I'll probably go north and surprise her. I'd like to see where she lives. She's a terrific person, Phil.”
“Yeah. Sounds like it,” was the quiet response. “Thanks for the update, Thomas. I'm glad everything went well. I'll see you soon.”
Phillip pondered his strange reaction to the news about Bunny. He felt like he was an outsider on something he himself had helped initiate. He felt Bunny was his special fan and he was jealous of Tom's association with her. Yes, it was jealousy, he admitted. Even though he hadn't been interested in her personally, he now resented Tom's apparent interest—whatever the reason behind it. If only he had sent her the script pages she had requested. If he had written more to her than just a few measly lines. If only he had been able to go to that blasted convention. If he just hadn't given Tom the book she had sent for him. He should have been at the meeting with Avery. After all, it was because of his original phone call that Bunny was even in the position she now held. It was he who should have taken her to celebrate at Charney's, he thought. It was he who should have strolled with her on the beach and then lit a fire to ward off the chill of the evening….
As soon as Phillip noticed he was pacing, it abruptly stopped as he stared at a photograph on his desk. It was a beautiful blond woman, a darling tow-headed four-year-old, and himself. Sarah and Davey. His wife and son. He looked down at the wedding band on his left hand as his pulse seemed to throb under the gold and diamond ring.
All the negative feelings about his good friend Tom flooded away. All the what-ifs concerning Bunny left his mind as he sat heavily on his sofa. He had no right, no claim on Bunny. He was a married man. Even though his abrupt trip to France proved all the awful things Sarah had told him were true—that he no longer had a family—he was still married. He had made vows and promises.
Exhaustion encompassed Phillip as he put his head back on the sofa and closed his eyes. “Sorry, Bunny.”
“
S
he doesn’t know what she’s doing, Jan! She’s in over her head!” Wayne fumed angrily as he stormed around Janice’s apartment.
Surprised by his sudden outburst, Janice remained silent. He had shown up unexpectedly at her door and hadn’t even waited for an invitation to enter. Ever since the convention Wayne had been getting more and more angry at Leslie. Now that she was back from Los Angeles, he was livid.
He continued his tirade without waiting for or apparently wanting any reply from Janice. “She doesn’t know what kind of people she’s dealing with. They’re going to devour her. Sure, they
pretend
they like you, but they’ll knife you in the back! Especially those actors!” he spat out, gesturing madly.
“Wayne!” Janice pleaded from the far side of the room, as far away from his mad pacing as she could get, deciding to head off his tantrum. “Please! I’m sure you’re exaggerating. The two men we met at the convention were as nice as they could be. How would you know what they’re like? You weren’t there. And you aren’t in show business!” she pointed out.
His head snapped around to look at her. He seemed about to say something and then thought better of it, clamping his mouth shut. He ran a shaky hand through his straight hair and finally sat down on her sofa. “I…I know what I’m talking about, Jan,” he insisted in a quieter, more reasonable voice. “I am from that area. I’ve had…dealings…with that type of people. I just don’t want to see Leslie get hurt,” he said to his feet as his head had drooped.
Janice smiled knowingly when he settled down and she felt it was safe enough to come over to put a hand on his shoulder. “You care a lot, don’t you?”
Wayne glanced at the far wall and frowned. “Yeah, I guess I do,” he replied eventually. He then added bitterly, “But I know she doesn’t return the feeling.”
“Now, Wayne, you know she’s fond of you. I…we all are. You have to realize there are a lot of new things going on in her life. Les is very excited right now—especially after the success of the meeting at the studio.”
The private investigator turned to look at Janice. She could see anger and something else flash across his eyes. “I don’t want her to be ‘fond’ of me. By now it should have been something a little more significant. Now all she can talk about is that blasted script she is trying to work on and that Tom Young. And whatever happened to that wonderful humanitarian Phillip Beck? She used to go on and on about him,” he snapped acidly.
Janice shrugged as she tried to explain. “Phillip was never real to her. They never even met. Tom is flesh and blood now. It sounded like they spent a lot of time together when she went to L.A.—without me,” she added sourly to herself. “Leslie’s been pretty quiet about what happened. Even to me.” She was disappointed about that, too.
Wayne scoffed at that. “No kidding. She hadn’t told me anything. She used to tell me everything when we went out to dinner or I spent the evening with her. Now she doesn’t have the time for us less-important ones. Sure it’s exciting, but we’re still her friends! If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have anywhere to go,” he claimed.
“Well,” Janice told him, putting a soft hand over his, “I’m always here if you want to talk or spend some time or something….”
At her words and the shifting tone of her voice, he looked at her again, but this time with different eyes. Her beautiful green eyes stared steadily at him as he appraised her. “You always have been the supportive one no matter what was going on. Ask me some day to tell you a little story about my business in Los Angeles. You might be surprised.” He stood to go and briefly put a finger under her chin.
“I’m a good listener,” she told him. “Any time.”
He stood with his hand on the doorknob. “Yeah, you are. See ya.”
Janice remained seated on the sofa long after he had gone. She had known for a long time how much Wayne cared for Leslie, but she had been taken aback by the force of his anger. Right now she thought about the look in his eyes…how they had turned soft just then when he had looked, really looked, at her as possibly something other than Leslie’s best friend. Would that cause a problem with Leslie? Janice frowned as she stared at the flower arrangement on his table. Would there be any fallout with the person who had been her best friend since grade school? Yes, Leslie was fond of Wayne, but she had never seen that spark that showed something more—that same tangible
something
that she saw when Leslie was around Tom Young.
Interesting,
she concluded as she got up to make herself some lunch. Something else had intrigued her about this little visit from Wayne. She was immensely curious about his life in L.A. He had never mentioned much about it before. Perhaps now was the time for disclosures and confessions.
She smiled to herself. She had an interesting revelation of her own for Wayne.
T
he shrill siren on a fire truck blasting past the boutique caused Mona Green to look up from the jewelry display that she was rearranging. Only then did she notice the white limousine that had pulled up in front of the shop. It must have just arrived as no one had gotten out yet. She called one of her clerks. “Hey, Jan. Come here and look at this.”
Janice peered around the corner from the back where she was working. A large shipment had just arrived and the three other women were busy checking the invoices. “Look at what?”
Mona cocked her head towards the front door. As the two women peered at the car, they saw the driver walk around and open the back door. Janice’s eyes became wide as she recognized Tom Young right before he lowered his head and quickly ducked into the boutique, hoping not to be recognized out on the street.
Intentions momentarily forgotten, Tom stopped suddenly just inside the door, amazed at the interior of the boutique. Not expected anything as posh and lovely as what he was viewing, he might have just stepped into a shop on Rodeo Drive back home in Beverly Hills. Finally spotting Janice, who was still frozen in place, he smiled and put a finger to his lips to convey the surprise he wanted to give Leslie. She mutely nodded as she walked over to say hello. Leslie and Paula continued working on the shipment unaware of the new arrival out front.
Janice shook his offered hand and introduced him to the star-struck Mona. She whispered, “Tom, it’s nice to see you! I suppose this means Leslie doesn’t know you’re here?”
He grinned. “Righto. I wanted to surprise her. Is she here?”
Janice motioned towards the rear of the shop. “She and Paula are working on a new shipment. Do you want me to call her?”
Tom thought a minute and whispered back, “No. Send her to one of the changing rooms. I’ll let her know I’m here myself!”
As he went behind one of the velvet curtains, Mona, always quick on the take, handed Janice a dress and picked up another one, calling, “Leslie? Could I have your help, please?” When Leslie came out, Mona continued with the charade, “Janice, take that dress to the back. Leslie, take this one to dressing room two. I’ll go get the shoes to match.”
Leslie gave a small sigh as she shook her head. She had been making headway in the back and couldn’t see why she was being disturbed. There appeared to be only one customer which rarely required three clerks.
Unless it was Mrs. Penney
, she suddenly thought with a groan. It would be just like Mona to make her wait on the difficult customer.
She tapped lightly on the wall next to the dressing room. “Ma’am? Here’s the blue dress,” as she put her hand on the drape.
There was a small shriek when her hand was grabbed and she was forcibly pulled into the mirrored room. Before she could further react, Tom had her in his arms and was soundly kissing her hello. When recognition fell on Leslie, she quit struggling and happily returned his gesture.
Suddenly the drape was pulled back and the rest of the women in the store applauded the scene. Leslie blushed as she pulled away from Tom, embarrassed.
“Now
that’s
the way to say hello!” Paula commented, nodding approvingly.
Leslie, once she became composed, handled the rest of the introductions. “What brings you here, Tom? I haven’t gotten much done of the script yet,” she told him.
He shrugged good-naturedly. “I was done filming for the season and didn’t have any other plans. Just thought I would drop in and say hi.”
“Drop by?” Mona echoed. “Three hundred miles is not a drop by! Boy, I wish my kids were home. They’d love to meet you!”
Tom glanced at Leslie’s blank face. “I plan on being in town for a few days. I’ll be sure to see them. I brought a few “Time Police” badges with me.”
“Oh, that would be great!” Mona exclaimed. “They love your show. They’ve been pestering Leslie for months about you and Eddie Chase.”
“I’m afraid you’ll find our city a little boring after what you’re used to,” Leslie remarked, her mind still revolving around work on the script.
He gave her a half-grin that wasn’t lost of the other women watching. “Oh, I’ll find something to keep me occupied.”
“Good. I sure could use your ideas on the script. I’m having trouble cutting it down,” the oblivious Leslie commented.
Tom winked at Janice. “Yeah. That, too. When do you get off work?”
Leslie checked her watch. It was two in the afternoon. “In about three….”
“Minutes,” Mona cut in with a grin. Sometimes Leslie could be so dense. “She was just given the afternoon off, Tom.”
“Great!” he declared. “My carriage awaits,” as he made a sweeping gesture towards the waiting limo.
“Oh,” Leslie hesitated, not on the same page as the others yet. “Uh, my car is out back. Can I meet you at your hotel?”
Tom shook his head, clearly enjoying himself. “Don’t have one. I came straight from the airport. I wanted to make a grand entrance. How about if I dismiss the driver and we’ll use your car?” was the next suggestion.
As Tom went out to retrieve his bag, Leslie groaned. “What in the world am I going to do with him here for a few days? This town is boring!”
All the women looked at her as if she had lost her mind. “You’ve got to be joking,” Mona told her. “One of the most popular actors on your favorite show travels three hundred miles to see you and you wonder what to do with him!!?”
“Boy, Les, you need to get out more often,” was Paula’s parting comment as she went back to work.
Janice had been happily intrigued, just silently watching back and forth as if she was at a tennis match, taking in every word and nuance.
“
O
kay,” Tom was saying, “you have the right idea here for the dialogue, but leave out the action. That goes over here. Stage directions go there. Leave off these reactions. That’s for the director to do.”
Leslie let out a frustrated breath of air. “My. There’s more involved than I thought. I’m glad you’re here to help. Mr. Avery would have buried me if I had turned in that mess.”
Tom shrugged. “That’s why I came to see how you were doing. Well, one reason,” he added with a sly grin.
Leslie missed the meaning of his last remark in her preoccupation with the script. She was sitting on her sofa with her feet tucked under her bottom, lap desk in place. Tom sat next to her at an angle to see what she was writing.
“Do you think I should start over?” she asked with a sigh. The paper looked like a mess to her.
“That would be a good idea unless you can remember all the changes when you start typing. Why don’t you just type it from the beginning? Why bother with writing it by hand? Wouldn’t that save duplicate work?” was the same query everyone asked her.
She nodded. “It would save work,” she agreed, “but I have a better feel for my work by doing it this way. Plus, if my papers fall into enemy hands, no one else could possibly read it!” she admitted with a laugh, holding out the script page as a prime example.
“Boy, that’s the truth. Your letters to Phillip Beck were written a lot neater.” He made the observation just so he could watch her reaction to the other actor’s name.
“Letters are different,” she explained and then paused, her hands falling into her lap. “Phillip. My, I haven’t written him in a long time. Not since before the convention. Hmph,” she thought out loud, not seemingly over-concerned about the lapse. “Oh, well, he’s probably thankful for the reprieve.”
Mollified now, Tom sniffed. “You never wrote me. You can’t say you didn’t know my address.”
“I…well…I didn’t want to bother you,” Leslie mumbled as she nervously began to shuffle some papers.
“You still don’t believe me, do you?” Tom inquired unbelievingly as he put a blocking hand over her work.
Leslie looked at his hand just to avoid his intense eyes. “I think you are being very nice,” she replied in a low voice.
“We went through this before, Leslie,” he said earnestly. “Why can’t you believe I like you?”
“Because things like this don’t happen to me,” she was blunt. “I usually get hurt. I guess I’m just trying to protect myself.”
Tom shook his head at her protestations. “Leslie, we are going to be working closely together on these projects until the second or third episode of yours airs. Then we feel you won’t need the extra help. I’m not here because I had to be. I’m here because I want to be here. We could have used the fax machine and the phone, you know,” he pointed out. “And, I want to go with you and Janice to New York to meet the publishers.”
This surprised Leslie. “It would be nice to have you along,” was her quiet, unexpected acceptance of his offer.
He took the lap desk from her and set it on the coffee table. “Let’s go out to dinner. Just forget all this for now. Where do you recommend?”
“After Charney’s all the restaurants here look like hamburger stands.”
“Forget L.A. We’re here and I think your city is nice. Now, let’s go!”
“
P
opular actor dines with local author “ read the caption of the picture that made the front page of Amherst’s only newspaper. An overwhelmed Leslie and a smiling Tom were being mobbed in a local restaurant. The next day, the picture hit the wire service with a story about the joint effort on the script. And sales of Leslie’s books jumped.
