Goldie laughed. Most people in today’s Hollywood weren’t even born in 1999, much less remember her turn inTenured.
“Kim was very sweet about it,” Goldie said.
“But what about the real you? You keep that personal life locked up pretty tightly,” Hope said.
“Yeah, most of what you see is made to order from my P.R. team. Heck, if I dated George Clooney, I don’t remember it. But rumors that I did were enough to get me seen for a couple of big parts back in the early aughts.”
“Well, who have you been in love with that we don’t know about? The real Goldie didn’t fall for anyone back in the day,” J.J. said.
“Oh, I had a few pretty close calls at marriage but never really had the time to make that my priority. I’m wondering if I made amiscalculation. Here we all are, pushing fifty. My closest friend is an assistant I pay.”
“Well, not anymore. You’re a Sandbar Sister. We took a pause, a big one while we did big stuff, now we back, to whip this town into shape,” Libby said.
“Here, here,” Hope said.
They raised their glasses, filled with the potent green juice, which Goldie had come to realize, was a margarita `a la J.J.
“To the Sandbar Sisters,” J.J. said. “Minus, Viv, wherever she is right now!”
Goldie didn’t have the right to tell some stories, or the courage to, quite yet.
There were sacrifices she’d made for her rise to fame that maybe her friends wouldn’t easily understand. They all had husbands, ex-husbands, and kids. Goldie had an Oscar. That seemed like not quite enough.
“So, saving Irish Hills, what’s the grand plan?”
“Have you ever heard of Stirling Stone?” J.J. asked.
“Oh yes, Libby mentioned him, her arch enemy. I actually have met him once or twice at events. Handsome devil, for sure.”
“He’s been pushing to buy everything. Aunt Emma stopped him, bought everything, paid folks’ rent, I stopped him with eminent domain, and we all pulled tougher to win a grant for downtown improvement. He just keeps on ticking, though.”
“What now?”
Libby hesitated and switched focus. It was easy to see there was something she wasn’t telling Goldie.
“You know what, our job, right now, is to make sure the jackals don’t get you. That’s it. No pressure. No need to be on. No need to be Goldie Hayes. Just be.”
“Thank you.” She wanted to help them, she wanted to be a part of their enthusiasm for their little project, but right now, she needed to lie low. She needed to disappear.
“I heard you put the kibosh on a film festival. I was looking forward to finding a sequined gown,” J.J. said.
Hope swatted her with a napkin.
Libby changed the subject.
“I’m sorry Joe’s going to be there at Two Lakes at the same time you’re there, but I do need to make sure it is ready for a buyer. Ha, unless you’re interested. If I don’t prove that we’ve got lovely accommodations here, Stirling’s libel to put a strip club on Lake Manitou where the hotel used to be,” Libby said.
“It’s fine, it’s really lovely, and I’m sure he will stay out of my way. And no, I really love the place, but you know,” Goldie said. She suspected Joe liked getting in her way, but she wasn’t going to complain to Libby. Libby was an adult. She didn’t need Goldie acting like a child over nothing. That was a movie star tactic.
Libby’s body language turned serious all of a sudden. And she looked Goldie in the eyes.
“Now, there’s one more bit of old news we need to tell you about. It haunted me for decades. Just so you know, we did not kill Bruce.”
“What? Who?”
“Bruce, my mom’s abusive toadstool of a boyfriend. You know how we locked him out of Nora House during the tornado?”
J.J. explained, and it came back to Goldie, that moment they’d run down to the basement.
