Belinda sat in front of the makeup mirror applying her lipstick when Meg came into the dressing room carrying a glass vase filled with two dozen long-stemmed roses.
“Red. He never forgets,” said Belinda as she inhaled the fragrance of the flowers.
Meg wished Belinda would volunteer who he was, but she wasn’t about to ask what the leading lady might think was too personal a question. If she wanted Meg to know, Belinda would tell her.
On went the corset and the petticoat and the green velvet gown. As Meg zipped up the dress, there was a knock on the door.
“Come in,” called Belinda.
Langley stuck her head inside. “I just wanted to say, ‘break a leg.’”
“Thanks, Langley,” said Belinda.
“Oooo, you got flowers.” Langley walked straight over to the dressing table. “They’re beautiful. Who sent them?” “A friend,” said Belinda.
“The friend must be crazy about you,” said Langley. “Who is it?”
Meg was embarrassed by the understudy’s rudeness. But Belinda, smooth as ever, simply ignored Langley’s question.
“Get me my fan, please, will you, Meg?” Belinda asked.
Meg obeyed. “You look beautiful, Belinda,” she said.
“Thank you, dear. And thank you for all your help.” With that, Belinda departed for the stage, leaving Meg and Langley in the dressing room.
Langley picked up the small card Belinda had left beside the flowers. “Twenty years and you grow ever more beautiful, Belinda. Valerie is very lucky tonight,” Langley read aloud. “Yours forever, Remington.”