Hollywood, California
“Go on in, Ms. Wheeler. He’s expecting you.”
“Thanks.” Bonnie stood and walked inside the offices of Marvin Cain, her talent agent of over a decade.
“Bonnie!” Marvin stood and came around his desk to hug her.
She nearly jumped back in surprise at the sudden rush of affection. “I thought you’d still be upset with me.”
“Not at all. You were right about Oopsie Underwear.”
“So, you agree they’re basically adult diapers?”
“Well, I wouldn’t go that far.” He waved a hand dismissively. “It’s lingerie with a little extra padding. You started your entire career as the ‘it’ girl for Topanga Lingerie.”
“I was nineteen, and it was my first and only modeling job.” And, apparently, nearly twenty years later, she’d never live it down.
“Look, it only makes sense to ask you all these years later. You’re still a beautiful woman and this was your chance to be the face of their new middle-age line. Full circle. Look, you can’t always afford to be so picky.”
“I’m hardly qualified to be the spokesperson for women who are ready for adult diapers.”
“You’re right, you’re right.” He waved at her to have a seat. “I have something much, much better for you.”
By now, Bonnie didn’t get as excited as she had in the old days. Once, she’d almost nabbed the part in a Marvel Studios picture but in the end, they’d chosen someone smaller. Someone who wouldn’t make their average height leading man look short because God forbid.
She could die her hair blonde, jet black, brown, pink, or stay with her natural red, but she could not get any shorter. Her only serious professional success remained the Irish mafia show she’d starred in at the start of her career over a decade ago. She’d been so good in it, Marvin said, that she’d been typecast. Again. Tired and jaded, once a week she considered quitting show business and moving back home.
She’d already missed so much from life that many took for granted. Marriage and children for instance. After too many failed relationships, she’d finally found someone she could count on in Eric Cavell. Both struggling actors, they’d met a year ago at an audition for Chicago Fire. She got the part of a firefighter’s girlfriend, he didn’t get the part of a man buried under rubble.
Many cocktails and war stories later, they spent most of their free time together. Her condo was the place he laid his head to rest most nights since he lived with roommates the way Bonnie had when she’d first moved to Hollywood. He was younger so she cooked for him and lent him both emotional and mental support. She’d long ago given up on falling in love again, and tired of being alone, Bonnie had become pretty fond of Eric this past year. He was so easy to like. So easy to get along with. Like a Golden Retriever, always so happy. Plus, she always had a date for an industry cocktail party or awards show.
“Tell me about the role.” Her foot began to jiggle with the typical raw nervous energy of living in the city.
“Well, first, keep an open mind. It’s a reality show.” Marvin leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers together, which she noticed he often did when he wanted to appear pensive.
Informed enough about the seedy underside of the business, she realized many so-called reality shows hired a plant for conflict and controversy. Often, they were actual actors in the screen actors’ guild picking up a little extra work on the side.
“I’m not doing a reality show.”
“This one is right up your alley. They’re looking for beautiful and accomplished women and they specifically wanted women your age. Plus, you’ll be the only actress.”
“I’m the plant. What do they want me to do? Cause trouble among the women? Be the house bitch? I won’t do it. You know how I feel about pitting women against each other.”
“No, no. Well, you are the plant, but there’s a specific reason.”
“What’s the reason?” Bonnie had begun to smell a rat. “Are they worried that they’re not giving so-called ‘older women’ enough of a chance? Do they have some organization after them? What’s the end game here?”
“Bonnie, Bonnie, Bonnie.” Marvin slid a piece of paper toward her. “Jaded much? This is the salary you’ll make for a mere wo weeks’ worth of your time.”
Bonnie gaped at the figure, nearly the amount she’d made, years ago, on her last season of Kavanaugh’s Way. The Irish mafia show which had been her first break and starring role. It might have turned her into a bankable movie star but when a strike delayed all future productions for months the series ended after three seasons. Many actors returned to work as waiters and never went back. She was one of the lucky ones to have found work after the series ended.
The show had recently been picked up by a major streaming network, but no one seemed to be watching. Including her.
So, why were they offering her so much money? “Did you explain I don’t do nudity?”
“Of course. This is a family show. Well, it’s streaming, but we all know streaming is the future and the future is now.”
“This is lot of money. I don’t see the catch.”
“No catch. They desperately want you and I think you should consider this opportunity before you immediately say no.”
“Hm.” Bonnie quirked a brow. “Why do you think I’ll say no?”
“It’s complicated.” Now, Marvin pushed something else toward her. It appeared to be an eight by ten glossy. “This is the bachelor.”
A face from her past stared back. Now several years older, his face was thinner, the jaw more cut and defined. The eyes hadn’t changed, of course, still the same amber hue serving a stark contrast to the shock of dark hair. There were tiny little crinkles at the sides of his eyes. Laugh lines of a life well lived and well loved.
Sean.
She didn’t even realize she was staring blankly until Martin cleared his throat.
“M-mr. Cowboy?” Bonnie’s hand shook, joining her still jiggling foot, and she handed the photo back. “That’s the name of the show?”
“The show is the brainchild of Winona James, Nashville superstar. She’s retired and living in Stone Ridge and would like to bring more women into town. Since it’s your hometown I’m sure you’re aware there’s a—”
“I know.”
They had a shortage of women and had since the dawn of time if you wanted to listen to town folklore. Her Aunt Beulah was currently the President or the ladies of SORROW (society of reasonable, respectable, organized women) and her own mother, Maybelle, still a member. When she’d been widowed after Bonnie’s father died in a rodeo accident, they’d struggled. Even if the men of Stone Ridge did their best to take care of them, Bonnie eventually left town for a better future for her and her mother. A future she thought only Hollywood could offer. How wrong she’d been.
So, Sean Henderson was looking for a wife, because God only knew if there were enough women in Stone Ridge, he’d be married with plenty of kids. It was what he’d always wanted. A wife, kids, the ranch. The simple life.
“While the money is attractive, I can’t do it. That’s my hometown, as you know.”
“Are there any problems with going back?”
“Yes, because I don’t have a time machine. There’s no going back for me.”
“Surely there are some people you’d love to reconnect with. How long has it been since you visited your mother? It’s only a few weeks, Bonnie. Like a paid vacation.” His eyes narrowed. “You know him, don’t you? Is that the problem?”
“Of course, I know him. There’s about 1,000 people in the entire town. We went to school together.”
There was more, far more, but she wouldn’t allow the producers to know just how much more. She’d finally learned to protect herself in this business and wasn’t interested in going home so Sean could stomp on her heart. It had taken years to get over him.
“That’s perfect! I wonder if the producers know about this. I could ask for more money.”
“They know. This must be why they’re offering this kind of money. It’s not difficult to track me down. I kept my real name.”
“That’s the angle for them, then. A blast from the past. Drama and conflict. I strongly urge you to consider this offer. Times are tough. Productions have been halted for one reason or another. Wildfires. Union strikes and pandemics.”
“What about the pilot we talked about? The frazzled mother of three who’s trying to save her family’s floral business?”
The script was witty with sharp dialogue and Bonnie had been inspired for the first time in a long while.
“They went with more of the ‘girl next door’ look.”
Translation: someone younger.
“Are you sure you won’t even consider Mr. Cowboy? Just as a short gig while you wait for another part to come along. Who knows? You might get into some westerns this way.”
“No. I can’t do Mr. Cowboy. I’ll just wait for another opportunity.”
She assumed Sean understood exactly what he’d gotten himself into. By her count, he’d been engaged twice and remained unmarried. There had to be a reason for that. And if in more than ten years he still hadn’t found the right woman, he wouldn’t likely do it in two short weeks under that kind of intense pressure. Then again, these shows were created to indulge good looking men. And while Sean had grown up in their lopsided town, now several women would fight for his attention. He’d probably be in hog-heaven. One thing for sure: she didn’t have to watch.
The bright pool of California sunshine made Bonnie blink. Maybe a drive to the beach to contemplate life was in order. She readjusted her shades and headed for the parking lot. As she pulled out, a car rushed into her space so quickly it almost clipped her. The driver then flipped her the birdy for not getting out of his way fast enough.
Not for the first time, she wondered if she should move to Vancouver. She and some of her actor friends had discussed the idea. The number of Hallmark and other streaming service productions filmed in Canada increased yearly. One of her friends had moved there a few years ago and found steady work. She adored the small quaint town she’d settled in and had invited Bonnie to visit many times. Eric regularly compared himself to the Hallmark Hunks on Instagram. Maybe she’d bring the idea up to him again tonight.
The fact she’d seen Sean’s photo and suddenly wanted to put even more distance between herself and Texas was mere coincidence. She had to find work, and if that meant following the locations, so be it.
Tonight, she’d invite Eric over and make his favorite dinner: her creamed corn, mashed potatoes, and chicken fried steak. Then she’d suggest it was time to make the move to Canada and just suck up the cold weather. If she, a Texan, could brave the subzero temperatures surely Eric could. If he came along, they could share rent and expenses.
He felt like her child most days, even if he was only seven years younger. Much of the time he behaved far younger than thirty and was one of the most insecure actors she’d ever met. She felt incredibly protective over him at times, like a Mama Hen. When he got turned down for a part, she’d assure him the casting directors had no idea what they were doing. When he got a bad review, she comforted him and told him she understood what this felt like. It would pass. He couldn’t be everyone’s special snowflake, but it would be okay because he was hers.
She whipped out her cell in the produce aisle and texted Eric:
Come over for dinner at six-thirty. I’ll make your favorite, chicken fried steak.
Eric replied:
I’ll be late. Have an audition.
Interesting. Eric hadn’t told her about any audition today. He was always so neurotic about them and forced her to recite lines with him for days before. Most of the time, truth be told, she was his support system and not the other way around. She’d become his cheerleader whenever he felt uncertain.
She texted him to break a leg, slipped her phone back in her purse, and continued shopping. But when they didn’t have Eric’s favorite wine, she drove to Pasadena and the specialty store. His favorite meal, favorite wine. She aimed to please even when it wasn’t reciprocated. Long ago, she’d gotten over being special and held in high regard by any man. The men in Hollywood needed a keeper half the time. Now, she was content with friendships which always skirted around love. Never too deep, never too emotional. This made it easier to focus on her career for years and this had always been her goal, so it worked.
On the way to the store, she flashed on a memory of Sean’s favorite IPA beer and wondered if he still enjoyed it. As teenagers, they used to sit on the banks of Lupine Lake, drink beer, kiss…and…other stuff she’d best not think about now.
Passing the peanut butter aisle, temptation gripped her. She went ahead and reached for a jar of her favorite brand of peanut butter. Face it, after seeing Sean’s photo, she needed a fix. Besides she’d been good for six months and was the thinnest she’d ever been.
From her grocery cart child safety seat, an adorable little girl, so cute she looked like a doll, offered Bonnie a toothless smile. Her heart and womb tugged simultaneously. Somewhere along the line she’d forgotten to pencil in a baby. Oh, well, she wouldn’t have had time for one anyway. Too late now, as she’d made it a practice to ignore the proverbial ticking biological clock.
The baby’s frazzled mother, or babysitter, bent to pick up the pacifier she’d dropped again. “If you do this one more time, just one more time, I’m not picking it up again.”
Down went the pacifier and the baby smiled with utter delight. It was a game, quite obviously, one she didn’t even realize she was playing.
“Here you go.” Bonnie bent to pick up the pacifier and hand it to the mother.
She would not be outwitted by a one-year-old.
“Thank you. Some days I just can’t take another minute of her attitude.” The woman brushed it off and stuck it in her purse. “My boyfriend and I think she has early oppositional defiant disorder.”
“Oh?”
“Never too soon for early intervention.” She threw in a jar of organic vegan baby food and passed Bonnie.
A few minutes later, the checkout clerk announced a ridiculous price for Bonnie’s purchases, but she was too embarrassed to put anything back. Besides, she was fairly certain Jennifer Lawrence waited in line two customers behind.
This is what she should expect for shopping in a specialty store. Her hand shook slightly, and Bonnie offered her credit card. She promised herself to pay it off in full when the bill came. Her income was sporadic, and she had to plan accordingly. At least she lived in one of the only rent-control areas of the city and her rent hadn’t been raised in years.
A road crew had blocked off the section of the parking lot where she’d parked, so Bonnie had to go around. As she passed the local Thai restaurant, a sun ray glinted and nearly blinded her with its gleam. She blinked and found herself staring inside the glass paned window right at Eric.
He sat extremely close to a gorgeous brunette Bonnie recognized immediately. She was the principal player on a popular network sitcom now in its sixth season.
This must be his audition. It wasn’t unheard of, she supposed, though unusual. Maybe she’d taken a hand in choosing her co-star. She was certainly a big enough name to do it.
It would be just like Eric not to jinx the opportunity to be on a hit sitcom by even mentioning it to Bonnie. On top of all his other neuroses, Eric was extremely superstitious. For his auditions, he wore purple socks and green boxers. Seriously. She’d tried to understand superstitions, quite common in Hollywood, but being a Texan and a Protestant, she didn’t.
Then something odd happened. Eric…yes, he…he started to kiss the woman. What was her name? Um, Vicki? Vicki Something. Think, think, think. Bonnie should know this. She read the trades even if she couldn’t stomach watching shows with a laugh track and hadn’t viewed a full episode. Kissing the woman’s neck, Eric lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. They were now in a full-blown lip lock.
Was this in the script?
“Oh look, it’s J.J. from that show, what’s it called?” This was from a teenager at Bonnie’s elbow.
“A Family of my Own,” Bonnie said.
Vici Milan. That was her name.
“Yeah, that’s right. Ma’am, can I help you with those bags?”
Ma’am.
In Stone Ridge, every married woman, irrespective of age, was referred to as ma’am out of respect. But Bonnie had just been dissed because in Hollywood ma’am meant “old lady.” She held on tightly to her bags, fully capable, as the osteo arthritis had not yet set in. Oh, fine. He was a good kid to offer, and frankly to a teenager, she probably seemed ancient. He was simply being kind, enough of an anomaly in the bustling metropolis to have shocked her into silence.
“No, thank you.”
Did she look old? Because Bonnie didn’t feel old. But from the offers to be the face of Oopsie Underwear, to auditions for the parts of middle-aged mothers, she got the message. She was done in this town.
And Eric was still kissing that woman.
Carrying her bags inside the restaurant, she tried to get past the hostess, but the young lady was dead serious about her job.
She blocked Bonnie. “Ma’am, do you have a reservation?”
“No, but I see my party has already been seated.”
She nudged her chin toward the table where Eric and Vici now sat, making-out. There was just no other word to describe it as they grappled for each other and seemed to be surgically attached at the lips.
“Oh,” the hostess said. “Right this way to Ms. Milan’s table.”
Phone cameras were not so discreetly filming Eric’s “audition” to be the lover of the year. This was also a trick of the trade. Be seen with someone more famous and watch the publicity machine do its thing. She’d been guilty of this in the past, and everyone had at one point or another. But she and Eric were supposed to be a couple. They were still together last she heard.
She followed the hostess and plunked her grocery bags down on their table. “I came straight from the store.”
This made them both come up for air.
“Sorry, I don’t give out autographs when I’m dining,” Vici said, giving a wide smile with her bruised lips. “But please call my agency and I’ll be happy to send you an autographed photo of the entire cast.”
“Oh, how kind of you.” Bonnie went hand to heart.
“Bonnie,” Eric blubbered. “This is…I want…I…”
“How cute, you’re tongue-tied. I think she knows who I am, babe,” Vici said. “But how do you two know each other?”
Bonnie smiled through gritted teeth. Eric was a horrible actor. How had she not noticed this before? Couldn’t he at least act like he hadn’t been caught cheating?
“Is this the audition you told me about, sweetie?” Cheating. So predictable.
“No, I…”
“Is this your mother, Eric?” Vici, not the sharpest crayon in the box, smiled widely. “Gosh, you look so young. You must have had him when you were ten! You’ll have to tell me all your anti-aging secrets.”
Oh, good. She did not look old enough to be the mother of a thirty-year-old! Yay.
“Seven. I would have to have had him when I was seven. That’s not a joke about how young I look, it’s a physical impossibility. Eric, tell her I’m not your mother!”
Eric shook his head. “No, no, she’s not my mother. She’s my…my…”
Bonnie stared, watching the last ten months crumble before her. More wasted time with a man in love with himself, or at the very least, with the idea of fame and fortune.
“Roommate,” Eric finished. “She’s my roommate.”
Roommate.
“Okay, well, I guess we’re done here. Eric, I came here to tell you I can’t be your roommate anymore. I’ll leave your stuff on the sidewalk.”
Bonnie turned in a huff, tossed back her hair, and prepared to make a dramatic exit. As she walked by, someone at a table not far from the entrance could be heard asking:
“Isn’t that the woman from the Irish mafia show? What’s it called?”
“Kavanaugh’s Way. It’s on Netflix. Yeah, she’s kickass on that show, too.”
Bonnie nodded and smiled. “Bonnie Wheeler playing Meghan Kavanaugh. And thank you.”
She would have loved to leave on that particular note, but unfortunately, she did have go to back.
“I’m taking my peanut butter with me.” She grabbed the bags from the table and turned to face the rest of the crowd. “And…end scene!”
This time, she received applause, and took a bow.
Pulling up to her old residential street, Bonnie found a spot on the street and carried her bags to her second story condo. No chance anyone would offer to help here, certainly not the grown men who passed her on the sidewalk, on the way to something much more important. No longer a perky young woman, or a hot commodity, she felt invisible at times and missed the polite teenager from earlier. It was fine since she’d been on her own for years. She reached her door and set down the packages.
She noticed an official looking taped notice on the front door:
This property has been seized by the Bank of the West for non-payment.
Obviously, this had to be a mistake. Bonnie faithfully paid her rent every month. She ripped the paper off and juggled her packages inside. Within minutes, she was on the phone to the kindly landlord to whom she made her payments. Bart Longmire had been an actor in the seventies, and now retired, ran celebrity golf tournaments and helped other aspiring actors whenever he could. When Bart didn’t answer, and his voice mail box was full, Bonnie dialed the number listed on the form.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but the property has been in arrears for months,” a representative said between keyboard clacks. “I’m surprised no one contacted you.”
“T-that can’t be right. I pay the rent every month.” She gave him Bart’s name and phone number.
More keyboard clacking. “Ah, yes. Looks like this particular landlord received rental payments on several of his properties but did not pay the mortgage with them.”
“Sorry? I don’t…don’t understand. What did he do with the money?”
The representative sighed. “Whatever he wants, apparently.”
The room seemed to spin as Bonnie clutched the edge of the countertop and took shallow breaths. “H-how do I get my money back?”
“Ma’am, you’re likely not going to get your money back. The bank will repossess the property, but…”
“They’re not going to pay me back, either are they?”
Silence ensued followed by a few keyboard clacks. Silence. More keyboard clacks. “I’m really sorry, ma’am.”
That night, Eric texted that they both needed to “take five.” Breaking up via text was an interesting gesture but one she’d come to accept. He’d be staying at “Vic’s” because he needed to center his chi before the audition and she’d harshed his mellow. Besides, Vic had an extra bedroom. Right. Sure.
“Extra bedroom my ass,” Bonnie said as she dug into her peanut butter with a spoon.
Someone new had arrived to take her place. Someone younger. Someone better connected. She’d been the stupid one, hanging on to Eric because she liked spending time with him, even if he couldn’t do a thing for her career but run lines. Even if, truth be told, she wasn’t all that invested in him emotionally.
She couldn’t even claim to be heartbroken. Having experienced real heart ache firsthand, the kind that made your heart feel like it had been harvested, then skewered over an open flame, Bonnie knew the difference. This was disappointment, pure and simple. Add in a bit of outrage simmering on a low flame. But she couldn’t even call up a single tear for the guy.
She was actually more upset about this rental scam.
God, she was so tired of everything. Back home in Stone Ridge, women were revered from birth to eighty. They were not disregarded and set out to pasture when they got to middle-age.
She had no current work, and would need to move out, too.
Picking up her cell, she dialed Marvin. She desperately needed to work.
“Hey, if I take the part in this reality show, do I get paid even if I don’t even survive the first elimination?”
“I’ll look over the contract, but that’s usually the way these things go. You’ll be paid regardless. But remember, you’re there for the drama so it’s likely they will want to keep you, regardless of what the bachelor wants.”
“And…he knows I’m going to be one of the contestants, right?”
“Oh, sure. Yeah. Of course, he does.”
Sean was apparently okay with this, which meant she should be fine with it, too.
She needed a job and at least a temporary place to live. But she didn’t want him to believe she’d come crawling back to him when he’d broken up with her. She’d have to walk a fine line between acting the part of a woman interested in vying for a cowboy’s heart, and someone who was there for a role and a roof over her head.
Bonnie understood that the minute Sean laid eyes on her, he’d get rid of her. But knowing Sean, and how and where he’d been raised, being rude to her would be unthinkable. So, at least she had that going for her.
“Just one other thing.” Marvin cleared his throat. “You can’t tell him you’ve been hired to do this gig. Given your history, obviously the producers think it would be far more interesting if he doesn’t know.”
“You mean create more drama when he eventually finds out. So…he’s supposed to think I’m there because I want another chance with him?”
Oh hell no. How utterly humiliating! Come crawling back to the man who’d feasted on the spoils of her broken heart?
“Yeah, well, is that such a huge deal?”
“The joke’s on them. There won’t be any drama when he kicks me out after the first day. Alright, Marvin. I’ll do it. Send over the contract.”
What difference does it make? You’re practically dead to him anyway.
After he eliminated her, she could take the time to visit with her mother, see old friends, regroup, and decide where to go from here.
Because she didn’t know if she had it in her to be a Hollywood player anymore.