If hanging by her fingernails from a Ferris wheel was a terrifying experience for Maggie Graym, wondering if and when Vance Varley was going to show up to do his scenes with her was a frustrating one.
It had only been one day since the incident on the big wheel but Maggie, being the true professional that she was, had reported back to work first thing.
Vance, however, was nowhere to be seen this morning, and as the minutes passed, it didn’t look likely that he was going to show up. Finally, at around nine, Vance’s live-in secretary, a curt young man called Adrian, phoned in saying that Mr. Varley was emotionally over-wrought due to having been tossed out of the Ferris wheel car and was currently indisposed with horrendous headaches.
So it looked like production would focus on scenes that didn’t require Vance’s presence. There was a big musical sequence in which Maggie would lead a group of women in a military extravaganza. Maggie had been rehearsing for this scene for the past two weeks and had even learned how to call cadence. Coaching her in drill and rifle was a tough female Marine who put her through her paces as if she was a raw recruit, but finally told Maggie she’d make a great sergeant. Maggie took this as a big compliment.
As for when the blond, blue-eyed, pug-nosed, freckle-faced boy wonder might report back to work so that they could final- ly finish the picture, who could tell? One thing was certain: Waldie wouldn’t want it getting out to Vance’s considerable audience that their rugged, masculine hero, the man who was winning World War 11 before their very eyes, had emotional problems. Nor did Waldie feel it prudent were Vance’s female fans, of which there were probably millions, to learn that Adrian was more to Vance than just a live-in secretary.
Maggie considered phoning Vance herself to try and determine just how “indisposed” he really was. But then she abandoned the idea knowing she would never get through Adrian.
Instead, she headed for makeup, hair and wardrobe. She’d already been there at six that morning getting the full glamour treatment for the scene she was supposed to have filmed with Vance. So she’d now have to go through the whole routine all over again for the military musical scene.
Turning a corner, she accidentally bumped into someone coming from the opposite direction. Stepping back to let the person pass, she was amazed at what she saw: a woman who was about the same age and height that she was, with the same figure, facial features, and way of dressing. The color and style of her hair was also identical. She was an almost perfect look-alike.
Maggie, unable to take her eyes off her, felt as if she was staring into a mirror.
The look-alike stared back at Maggie until finally Maggie snapped out of it.
“Hi,” she said, smiling. “I’m Maggie Graym.” And as she did with all people new to the studio, she extended her hand as a warm gesture of welcome. The look-alike regarded the out- stretched hand in front of her as if she had just been offered a plate of dog turds.
“Emerson says that I don’t have to talk to you if I don’t want to. And I don’t want to,” the look-alike said in a rather high and unattractive voice.
After saying this, she turned her back on Maggie and walked away. Maggie stared at the young woman’s back for a moment. “Well, I never...” she said, not liking the way she had just been snubbed.
“Did you see that, Johnny?” she asked the makeup man, near whose door her encounter with the haughty young look-alike had just taken place.
“Sure did, Maggie,” Johnny said. “Old man Waldie sent her over. Told me to make her up so she looked just like you. I thought she was your stand-in or something.”
“As far as I know,” Maggie said, taking a seat in front of Johnny’s big mirror, “my stand-in is the same one I’ve had for the last three years. Ethel McCreedy. She was even on the set doubling for me yesterday.”
“Then who’s this new girl?” Johnny asked, applying some powder to Maggie’s cheek.
“Damned if I know,” Maggie answered. “But it wouldn’t surprise me if Emerson Waldie is finally doing what he’s been threatening to do all these years: grooming a new Maggie Graym.”
“Impossible,” Johnny said. “There’s only one Maggie Graym in this town and that’s you.”
Maggie had known Johnny ever since he’d done her face for her Grove screen test. She considered him one of her loyal friends at Grove.
“I’m not so sure about that, Johnny,” she said. “That young girl I just bumped into looked more like me than I do. If you were to put the two of us together, the audience wouldn’t know the difference.”
“Gee, Maggie,” Johnny said, “if I’ve done anything to hurt you or your career, it was unintentional. The order came through to give this girl the Maggie Graym treatment. You know, the works. I had my whole staff working on her. Old man Waldie even came down here and supervised. I had no idea he might be double-crossing you. Or I would never have gone along with it, job or no job.”
“Don’t worry about it, Johnny,” Maggie said. “If Waldie wants to create a new Maggie Graym, let him. I’ve had a pretty good run for my money here in Hollywood and to tell you the truth, I never expected to get even half this far. I mean, I can’t sing, really. I can dance a little, and that’s not saying much, and when it comes to acting, I have no talent whatsoever.”
“Oh, c’mon, Maggie. You’re the greatest.”
“The greatest what? That’s the question.”
“Star. Nobody in Hollywood comes close to you.”
“Thanks, Johnny, but I’m getting a little sick of being Maggie Graym. I want to quit this business before the public gets sick of her, too.”
“You quit and you’ll break a million hearts,” Johnny said, finishing up by painting Maggie’s lips a glossy red. “And mine,” he added, “will be number one.”