“To Mr. Donald Norton on the S.S. Argentina,” Kate said into the telephone in the Fairchilds’ chic living room. “I wish to express my deep regret—” If she said she was sorry for writing the list, he would smell the lie. “—that my list offended you. Stop. Situation is dire here with house full of men boarders. Stop. Must return home at once so I do not get behind in school. Stop. Would very much appreciate money order for one month hotel.” She remembered that she would have to reenroll in Blakely Academy. “And tuition. Stop. My best wishes to you and my aunt on the occasion of your marriage.”
“Sixty-one words,” the Western Union clerk said on the other end of the line.
“Signed Kate, please.”
“With tax, that’s a dollar eighty-two, charged to Mrs. Fairchild’s telephone account.”
“Thank you.” Kate hung up, already wondering if she should have made the apology more contrite.
“You’re not leaving town already?” a feminine voice said, and she turned to see Mrs. Fairchild behind her—even more lovely in the light of day, wearing a soft blue dress that looked nice against her blond hair and porcelain skin.
“I hope you don’t mind the telegram. I’ll go get my purse.”
“Don’t be silly, it’s on me. But I thought you were going to live here now. I wanted you to be in Bonnie’s movie.”
“She doesn’t want to do it,” Bonnie said, perched on the arm of the sofa. “You have to convince her, Mama.”
Mrs. Fairchild’s gaze lingered on Kate before shifting to her daughter. “Run upstairs and change, Bonnie. Tad wants you in that navy dress with the white collar for the screen tests.”
“I don’t know why it matters. I already have the part.” But Bonnie left the room.
Mrs. Fairchild’s red lips flickered a smile. “She’s only wearing yellow because she overheard that boy next door say it’s his favorite color.” She sat on the sofa and patted the cushion. “Come sit by me, dear.”
“All right, but I can’t do the movie. I’m going back to San Francisco.”
“I know. I sent Bonnie away so I could ask about your grandfather.”
Kate sat, surprised. “You know Ollie?”
“Of course. We’ve been neighbors for twenty years. He and my husband were best friends.” Mrs. Fairchild reached to the end table and brought back a framed photo showing herself in a skimpy, beaded dress from the 1920s, her platinum hair cut in a short bob, with a handsome man smiling on each side—Ollie with his dimples and a man with a skinny, dark mustache. “The three of us used to do everything together. This was taken at the Galaxy, where I used to sing.”
The nightclub where Reuben was a bookkeeper, with illegal gambling upstairs and a boss in prison. Kate looked at the photo more closely and saw a fancy stage in the background. “You were a singer?”
“Until I got married. Goodness, look how young we all were.” The men looked about thirty-five, Mrs. Fairchild quite a bit younger. “Frank was a movie producer when I met him, but he quit the business when he struck oil on Signal Hill.”
The name Frank rang a bell. “Did he give Ollie a Captain Powell sword for his birthday?”
Mrs. Fairchild gave a soft laugh. “I forgot about that. They used to have sword fights in the backyard. I was sure one of them would end up impaled.” Her smile faded. “I lost Frank to cancer a year ago. He went very quickly.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It was hard on Bonnie. I hoped … I hoped Ollie would come to the funeral, but he never showed up.”
Kate wasn’t sure how much to say. “He doesn’t go out much lately.”
“I know.” Mrs. Fairchild hesitated. “It was hard on him when you were missing. All the reporters in front of his house, everyone wanting a picture of his grief.” She placed a hand on Kate’s arm. “We mourned your mother too. She was a lovely girl, always so quiet and well-behaved. She wasn’t suited for a life in Hollywood. I was glad when she went to Stanford and married into a respectable family. I didn’t know he was…”
A thief and a killer.
“Ollie stopped answering the phone after the funeral. Frank and I gave him space for a few weeks, then got worried and followed the housekeeper into the house. But it didn’t go very well. We quarreled over something silly, and that was the last time I saw Ollie.” Mrs. Fairchild gave the window a wistful glance. “We live yards apart, but it might as well be an ocean.”
Kate sensed more to the story. “I’m sorry.”
“That’s why I was so glad when I realized who you were last night. I can’t bring myself to knock on his door, things ended so badly between us, but with you here, it’ll seem perfectly natural for me to drop by.”
Kate couldn’t imagine beautiful Mrs. Fairchild sitting in Ollie’s cluttered living room with its wheelbarrow of hats. “The house isn’t really fit for entertaining right now. It’s a bit of a mess.”
“Then the two of you must come here for dinner. Ollie was always the best dinner guest. He’d have the entire table laughing.”
“He’s changed since the last time you saw him.”
“I know. Time changes all of us, but he’s the same Ollie inside, and I’d love to repair our friendship. Please, Kate, don’t go rushing back to San Francisco, stay and do Bonnie’s movie. It’ll only take two weeks, and I’m sure it’ll mean so much to Ollie to have you here.”
“Only two weeks to make a movie?”
“Preproduction is over. They’d be filming already if a set hadn’t collapsed. Oh, please do it, Kate. You’ll have so much fun. It’s a lovely musical full of teenagers, and I’ll make sure you receive a good salary.”
“Salary?” Kate’s attention sharpened. With money of her own, she could stop apologizing to Mr. Norton.
“It would be such a relief to know you’re on set.” Mrs. Fairchild glanced at the doorway and lowered her voice. “That’s why I called Clive Falcon this morning. I was hoping you could help me keep an eye on Bonnie. I can’t be there every second.”
“A babysitter?” Kate hadn’t expected that.
“An older, wiser friend. Bonnie doesn’t have many friends. She had to quit school to keep up with all the dance lessons and auditions. She’s worked so hard, Kate, and now—finally—Clive thinks she’s ready to be his next young star, like Judy Garland at MGM. It’s everything we’ve hoped for, but all I can do is worry about an entire production counting on my rather silly fifteen-year-old daughter.”
“Bonnie will be great,” Kate said, with no certainty she would be.
“I know this industry, Kate. I know the men in this industry and how they treat pretty young girls. I can’t be there every minute, but Bonnie couldn’t stop talking about you last night, and it dawned on me that you could be my second pair of eyes.”
“I can’t miss school for two weeks.”
“The studio has a school. Bonnie’s tutor is wonderful—a student from Caltech.”
“Caltech?” It had the best astronomy program in the country, using the world’s largest telescope at Mount Wilson, only a few miles from here. “Could this tutor help me with calculus?”
“I’m sure he could.”
Kate wondered if she’d been too hasty, turning down the opportunity. Most people would give anything to be in a Hollywood movie. Like Hugo, working as a dishwasher at night so he could go on auditions. And Aurelio, who belonged in a musical much more than she did. “Is there any way you can get parts for Ollie’s boarders?”
“I’m afraid not. I don’t work at Falcon Pictures, I’m only friends with the producer.”
“But you should see Aurelio dance. And Hugo wants it so much. And Reuben—well, I’m sure he’s good at something. They just need a break, that’s all, and this could be it.”
“I’m sorry, but Clive only agreed to you because—”
“I know why.” And suddenly, Kate’s three years of debate team training kicked into gear, and she saw her leverage. “Mrs. Fairchild, you want me to do this movie so I’ll watch over Bonnie, and Clive Falcon wants me because my name will sell tickets. Well, what I want is for Ollie’s boarders to get roles, so I don’t have to go home to their envy every night, knowing they deserve it more than I do. That’s my condition.”
Mrs. Fairchild gave a startled laugh. “I don’t have that sort of power.”
“Then I won’t do it.” But as soon as Kate said the words, she knew they were an empty threat, because, all at once, she wanted to be in a Hollywood movie more than anything. Hugo had been right. She’d never have a chance like this again, and only a fool would turn it down.
“You’re different from your mother,” Mrs. Fairchild mused, studying her more closely.
A subtle way of saying she was more like her father. Kate had heard that a lot when she was younger, when being compared to the brilliant financier Johnson Hildebrand was still a compliment.
Mrs. Fairchild smiled. “Don’t look so offended. I like a girl who goes after what she wants. I’ll tell you what I can do. Yesterday, half the cast got hurt when a set collapsed. Clive almost canceled the whole thing, but I convinced him to keep going for Bonnie’s sake. Today, the studio will be a madhouse of young actors trying out for parts. If your friends can be ready in five minutes, they can go in Bonnie’s car, which will get them through the studio gates. After that, they’re on their own.”
“Thank you!” Kate cried, quickly standing. “I need to tell them.”
“I hope you and Ollie can come for dinner soon.”
Kate didn’t reply, already hurrying out the door.
She expected to find everyone where she’d left them, but the living room was deserted. She returned to the foyer and shouted to the house at large, “I have something to tell everyone—and it’s important!” She waited a few seconds. “Do you want to be famous, or don’t you?”
A door opened upstairs and Aurelio appeared, pulling a shirt over his head, his golden-brown chest on full display.
Reuben emerged from another upstairs room, grumbling, “This better be good.”
“Is everything all right, my dear?” Kate dragged her eyes from Aurelio’s impressive chest to find Ollie standing at the back of the foyer, still wearing the kingly cape. Messy gray hair and whisker stubble. A smear of food on the belly of his pajamas. Hugo emerged around him, wearing a red gingham apron, wiping his hands on a dishrag, the dog trailing behind.
She fought to hold on to her optimism. “Listen carefully, everyone, because we don’t have much time. We’re leaving for Falcon Pictures in five minutes—all of us, in Bonnie’s car. I agreed to be in her picture as long as the rest of you get to audition. You’re not promised roles, but a chance at least.” Her gaze skimmed their startled faces. “Well. Don’t just stand there. This is the day you’ve been waiting for!”
Aurelio reacted first, grabbing the iron banister with both hands. “What do we wear? What are the roles?”
“I … I don’t know, teenagers, I guess.”
“What about me?” Reuben demanded. “I’m not a teenager.”
“Everyone gets into the audition. After that, it’s up to you.” Her heart fluttered with uncertainty as she looked back at her grandfather. “Ollie … I think you should come with us too, for that drive you promised me.”
He gave a feeble laugh. “Goodness, no, I’m on a break from acting.”
“You don’t have to audition, just ride in the car and wait in the parking lot. You can wear a hat and sunglasses, if you want, and no one will know who you are.”
Ollie took a step back. “No, no, I couldn’t possibly.”
She struggled to keep the irritation from her voice. “Of course you can. It’s just a car ride.” He shook his head, and she blurted, “If you don’t go, nobody else gets to go.”
“That’s lousy!” Reuben cried. “Why does the whole thing depend on him?”
“Because he’s my grandfather,” Kate snapped. “And I don’t want him stuck in this house for the rest of his life.” She fixed her eyes on Ollie. “You said you don’t want me to go back to San Francisco. Well, if you get in that car in five minutes, I’ll do this movie and stay for two weeks. If you don’t, I’ll leave tonight.” Which wasn’t true—even without the movie, she didn’t have money for a hotel. But Ollie didn’t know that.
He paled. “You … you said it would be just the two of us. I can’t go to a studio.”
Hugo grabbed his arm. “Sure you can. I’ll be there. Come on, let’s get you upstairs and find you something to wear. There must be something that fits.” He steered Ollie toward the staircase.
Ollie grabbed the banister. “Not today. Maybe tomorrow.”
Reuben growled, “You won’t have a tomorrow if you don’t do this—because I’ll kill you!”
Kate’s chest tightened with doubt. Ollie looked ready to pass out.
Hugo placed his hand over Ollie’s on the banister. “You can do this,” he said gently. “One step at a time. Let’s get you dressed first.” He loosened the older man’s grip and forced him up the staircase.
As they climbed, Hugo looked back at Kate with a look on his face that seemed to mean something, she just wasn’t sure what. Maybe gratitude for getting them all auditions. Or reassurance that he would get Ollie dressed. Or maybe just sheer amazement that she’d figured out a way to get Ollie out of the house. She was a bit amazed herself.
“Five minutes!” she cried, and they all scurried upstairs, leaving her alone with the reality of what she was doing. Panic quivered inside her, threatening to take over. She hurried to her room, flipped open her notebook, and quickly added two tasks she couldn’t have imagined when she’d woken up that morning.
4. Go to Falcon Pictures.
5. Accept a role in a Hollywood musical.