The penthouse suite was three times the size of mine and reachable only by a small, old-fashioned birdcage elevator that shook as it rose steadily from the lobby. I swallowed back nausea and pressed the buzzer when it reached the top. And then Tate came and opened the door.
They were all sitting just inside on a giant plush sectional: Gloria, Will and even Jasper, who was adorned today in a little red diamond-studded collar, and who couldn’t help but let out a low growl when I approached.
Will shot me a look but I couldn’t tell exactly what he was trying to say, whether it was sorry or good luck, and then he quickly looked away from me, picked up Jasper and announced he was taking him for a walk with Tate.
“Have a seat,” Gloria said to me coldly, after they piled into the elevator. She was more dressed-up today than she had been during the day in her own home: a black pantsuit, a full face of makeup, her wig. It was almost astonishing how much the bigger head of hair made her look more like a bona fide star and less like a cranky older woman.
I sat down next to her on the couch. “This hotel is beautiful, right?” I said, keeping an air of cheeriness in my tone I didn’t feel. Why was Gloria so much nicer to Cam than to me? Did she deep down really just dislike me? And why did that bother me so much? Why did I even care if she liked me or not?
She ignored me and glanced out the window. It was still raining, and it occurred to me that Will might not get very far on his walk with Jasper, though, maybe Jasper was used to the rain.
“You liked Cam a lot,” I said. “Does he remind you of George?”
She turned back to me and shrugged a little. I noticed her bell sitting on the coffee table in front of her. (She had actually packed it and brought it along?) But Tate was out with Jasper. Gloria wasn’t going to get out of answering my questions by ringing it now.
“Was that weird?” I continued to push. “I mean, it must be. To see an actor who’s going to play the love of your life who—” I stopped myself before saying “died,” realizing how that might sound insensitive. “Who is no longer with you,” I added.
“Cam is gorgeous and he seems like a real sweetheart,” Gloria said, sounding oddly cheerful for her. “How lucky we were for him to agree to the role.”
“Why do you love him and hate me?” I blurted it out before I could stop myself.
“Why would I hate you?” Gloria said calmly, coolly, her voice giving her away. She absolutely did hate me.
“I have no idea,” I said softly. I really didn’t know. Why wouldn’t she answer any of my questions but spent hours last night fawning over Cam? It wasn’t that she was nervous about the movie as Will had suggested a few nights ago. It was very specifically something about me. “If I said something to offend you, or did something wrong, I wish you would tell me so I could apologize and fix it.”
Gloria stared at me and didn’t say anything for a moment. Then she said, “When you make that face, you look exactly like him.”
“Look like who?” I put my hand to my cheek trying to figure out what face she meant. A look of confusion? Was I frowning?
“You know, I watched all your movies and your series,” Gloria said. “You’re very good. You’re a talented actress.” She paused and examined her still-perfect purple diamond nails. “I know you think you do, but you don’t need anything from me. Play the part as it’s written. I have no doubt you’ll do it very well.”
My mind was reeling from the compliments, from her confusing comment that I looked like him. And from the fact that maybe she was right. I was good at my job. Jase had gotten me into Method just like he’d gotten me into vegetarianism. I could eat a burger, even if I didn’t exactly like it. Maybe I could pull off the part of Gloria as written in the script too, play devoted wife to Cam/George whether it was true or not.
Gloria looked up again and she was staring at me, her eyes locked on my face so steadily, I shifted, uncomfortable. “Who do you think I look like?” I tried again.
She bit her lip and didn’t respond at first. “Your father,” she finally said softly.
My father? It had been a few weeks since we’d talked, but last I heard he was taking my half sister, Melody, to tour colleges this summer. Or had that been last summer? Now I honestly couldn’t remember. In his life in New Jersey with Melody and my stepmom, he worked as an engineer for public transit. He hardly read books, much less romance novels. “How do you know my father?” I asked Gloria.
She stared at me for another moment and then she shook her head. “I told you, I looked you up on the internet.”
But that made no sense. She had been studying Gaitlin’s face online to see how closely it matched up with mine?
The door to the suite opened, and suddenly Tate barged in, off the elevator, before I had a chance to ask anything else. “Sorry to interrupt,” she said. “We forgot Jasper’s raincoat.”
“Oh, poor baby can’t do with getting wet. I’ll get it.” Gloria stood so quickly, she almost fell, and then she leaned on her cane for a few seconds to steady herself before thumping off toward what I assumed was the bedroom. Her cane was plain, dark wood, and it occurred to me now that unlike so much of the rest of what she always wore and had with her, her cane was not a prop. She truly needed it to get around.
“Sorry to barge in like this,” Tate lowered her voice and said to me. “Jasper acts like a little bitch if he gets wet.”
“Tate, why does Gloria use a cane?” I asked.
“Oh, the cane?” Tate’s tone shifted. My question had caught her off guard. “Well... Will would know better than me. There was an accident, a long time ago. I think her leg got crushed and she’s used a cane ever since.”
“An accident? You mean...the night George died? Or the car accident when Will was little?” I whispered, not wanting Gloria to hear me from the other room.
Tate thought about it for a minute. “I’m not really sure,” she finally said. “Like I said, Will would probably be the one to know the details.”
I nodded. That was, at least, a knowable answer. I would ask Will later.
Gloria thumped back in, carrying a tiny yellow raincoat. “Make sure you put his hood up.” She held it out toward Tate, and I noticed that the hood was rimmed with a tiny row of diamonds.
Tate nodded and took the coat. “I know. I will.”
Then Gloria turned back to me and frowned. “Amelia, something’s come up and I’m afraid I’m going to have to cut our meeting short. Tate, see her out on your way back down.”
Before I could protest, she was already walking back toward the bedroom. But I noticed the way her hand was shaking now as it tightly gripped the top of her cane. Maybe what Will and Tate had originally said about her being nervous had actually been true. Did I make her nervous?
And then I felt this rush of disappointment, that I hadn’t been able to put her at ease, talk to her, truly learn about her over the past six days. Suddenly it felt like I’d already failed miserably in playing my part before we’d truly even started.