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The equipment trucks and trailers being used by the film company sat close to the highway, and Bobby Tom parked the Thunderbird next to a dusty gray van. As they both got out of the car, Gracie spotted Willow standing in a coil of cables near a portable generator, where she was talking with a thin, studious-looking man holding a clipboard. Crew members worked near the corral, adjusting large lights set on sturdy tripods.
Willow looked up as Bobby Tom, nearly two weeks late, strolled toward her. He was resplendent in black slacks, coral shirt, and diamond-patterned gray silk vest topped by a charcoal Stetson with a snakeskin band. Gracie waited with a good deal of relish for her sharp-tongued employer to light into him.
“Bobby Tom.”
Willow spoke his name as if it were a sonnet. Her lips curved in a soft smile and her eyes lit up with dreamy pleasure. Her sharp edges seemed to melt away, and as she walked forward, she extended her arms to grasp his hands.
Gracie felt as if she were choking. All the verbal lambastings she had endured came rushing back to her. Bobby Tom was getting a hero’s welcome when he was the one responsible for the trouble!
She couldn’t stand watching Willow drool on him. As she turned away, her eyes fell on the Thunderbird. Dust streaked its shiny red finish and the windshield was splattered with bug gore, but it was still the most beautiful car she’d ever seen. As frustrating as the past four days had been, they had also been magical. Bobby Tom and his red Thunderbird had transported her into a new and exciting world. Despite the conflicts and arguments, this had been the best time of her life.
She walked over to the catering wagon to fetch a cup of coffee while she waited for Willow to finished worshiping at Bobby Tom’s feet. An exotic-looking, dark-haired woman with long silver earrings stood behind the counter. She had heavily made-up eyes, olive skin, and bare tan arms with silver bangles at her wrists.
“You want a donut to go with that?”
“No, thanks. I’m not too hungry.” Gracie filled a Styrofoam coffee cup at an urn.
“I’m Connie Cameron. I saw you driving in with Bobby Tom.” She took in the navy blue suit in a way that made Gracie realize she had once again dressed wrong. “Have you known him for long?”
The woman’s manner was less than friendly, and Gracie decided it was better to clear up any misunderstanding right at the beginning. “Only a few days. I’m one of the production assistants. I escorted him here from Chicago.”
“Nice work if you can get it.” Connie’s gaze was carnivorous as she watched Bobby Tom in the distance. “I spent some of the best times of my life with Bobby Tom Denton. He sure does know how to make a woman feel one hundred percent female.”
Gracie didn’t know how to answer that, so she smiled and carried her coffee over to one of the folding tables. As she took a chair, she forced herself to put Bobby Tom out of her mind and still thinking about her new responsibilities instead. Since production assistants were at the bottom of the totem pole, she could end up working with the prop people, typing crew sheets, running errands, or performing any of a dozen other jobs. As she saw Willow approach, she hoped her boss hadn’t decided to send her back to L A to work in the office. She wasn’t nearly ready for this adventure to end, and the thought of never seeing Bobby Tom again gave her a sharp pang . . .
Willow Craig was in her late thirties, a woman with the lean and hungry look of an obsessive dieter. She bristled with frantic energy, chain-smoked Marlboros, and could be curt to the point of rudeness, but Gracie still admired her tremendously. She began to stand to greet her, but Willow gestured her back into her chair and .sat down next to her.
“We need to talk, Gracie.”
The brusqueness in her tone made Gracie uneasy. “All right. I’m anxious to hear about my new duties.”
“That’s one of the things I want to discuss.” She pulled a pack of Marlboros from the pocket of her peach jumpsuit. “You know that I’m not happy with the way you did this job.”
“I’m sorry. I did my best, but—”
“It’s performance, not excuses, that count in this business. Your failure to get our star here on time has been extremely costly.”
Gracie bit back all the explanations that were bubbling to her lips and said, simply, “I realize that.”
“I know he can be difficult, but I hired you because I thought that you could handle difficult people.” For the first time, her voice lost its edge and she regarded Gracie with a trace of sympathy. “I’m partially to blame. I knew you lacked experience in the business, but I hired you anyway. I’m sorry, Gracie, but now I’m going to have to let you go.”
Gracie could feel the blood, draining from her head. “Let me go?” she whispered. “No.”
“I like you, Gracie, and, God knows, you saved my life when Dad was dying at Shady Acres and I was so distraught. But I didn’t get where I am today by being sentimental. We’re on a tight budget, and there’s no room for dead weight. The fact is, you were given a job to do, and you couldn’t handle it.” “Her voice softened as she stood up. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out for you. If you’ll stop by the office at the hotel, you can pick up your check.”
With that, Willow walked away.
The hot sun beat down on. Gracie’s head. She wanted to turn her face into it and let it burn her up so that she wouldn’t have to face what she feared the most. She had been fired.
In the distance Bobby Tom emerged from one of the trailers followed by a young woman with a tape measure draped around her neck. She laughed at something he said, and he gave her an answering smile so charged with intimacy that Gracie could almost see the girl falling in love. She wanted to yell at her, to warn her it was the same smile he gave tollbooth operators.
Tires squeaed and a silver Lexus peeled into the compound. The driver had barely brought the vehicle to a stop before the door flew open and an elegantly dressed blond-haired woman jumped out. Once again Bobby Tom’s face lit up with a lady-killer grin. He ran toward the woman and pulled her into his arms.
Sick at heart, Grade turned away. She stumbled blindly through a quagmire of cables, not paying attention to where she was going, knowing only that she had to be alone. On the other side of the equipment trucks, she saw a shed that rested at a crazy angle next to the hull of a rusted car. Slipping behind the weather-beaten structure, she sagged down in a patch of shade and leaned against the rough wood.
As she buried her head in her hands, she felt all her dreams slip away and despair gripped her. Why had she tried to reach so far above herself? When would she learn to accept her limitations? She was a homely woman from a small town, not some wild-eyed adventuress who could take on the world. Her chest felt as if it were squeezed by a giant fist, but she couldn’t let herself cry. If she did, she would never be able to stop. The days of her life stretched in front of her like one of the endless highways they had traveled. She had hoped for so much and ended up with so little.
She had no idea how long she sat there before the squawk of a bullhorn cut through her misery. Her navy suit was much too heavy for the hot July afternoon, and her skin was sticking to her blouse. Rising, she glanced without any real interest at her watch and saw that a little over an hour had passed. She had to get into Telarosa to pick up her paycheck. Nothing could make her stay here any longer, not even her suitcase locked away in Bobby Tom’s trunk. She’d make an arrangement with someone in the office to pick it up for her.
