Days Of St Croix

by Felicity Pepper

Twenty-Eight

  There was another knock at the door. Tibby pulled a hand towel off the rail and held it to her chest with her left hand while she unlocked the bathroom door. Etienne stood in the doorway holding a crisp white dress shirt on a wooden hanger. He held it out for Tibby.

  "I'm sorry, this is all I can offer to you." His eyes rested on Tibby's face. He looked sad, as if an opportunity had slipped past him. Tibby took the shirt with a smile.

  "It'll have to do. Thank you." She looked into his eyes for a moment, sensing the disappointment, as though Etienne Girard had changed from the person he had been just five minutes before. Tibby suddenly felt like an immature little girl, and she didn't like it. What was Girard expecting from her? Did he think she was a sloppy drunk? A clumsy fool who fucks everything up? Or a hot, young, capable starlet? Had her big chance disappeared as quickly as it had arrived?

  She turned around, dropped the towel, and pulled on the dress shirt. It felt smooth, soft and clean. It was much too big, obviously, but that didn't matter. She could make it sexy. She buttoned it up just above her bra, then turned back to Etienne Girard.

  "I think I'm ready to read those lines now." She said with a smile.

  "This is really cool of you, Mills. I'll send you the money the minute I get back, okay?"

  "It's nothing." Mills smiled warmly, handing Paige three crisp, folded hundreds. "Just helping a sister out."

  "Well, I appreciate it. Really." Paige reached for her bag, but it was on the floor beside her bar stool. She stepped down, turning her back to the door for a moment and crouched down to retrieve her purse from inside the bag.

  Jas saw Mills across the bar. She had an empty glass in front of her.

  "Fuck!" He whispered to himself, almost panicking. He started to turn around, but it was too late. Mills had glanced up and turned in his direction.

  "Oh my God!" She exclaimed, the three drunken syllables coming out loud and rich. She stepped forward and put her arms out. Jas smiled, trying desperately to remain calm. He took Mills in his arms and hugged her.

  Paige stood up quickly and turned around. Jas was facing her, his arms around Mills. His eyes locked onto hers, and she saw the panic and surprise in his face. He wouldn't take his eyes off hers. For a split second, she was confused, but then she realized what to do. Even after a couple of large martinis, in the pressure of the moment, she could think fast. Without making a sound, she nodded, then raised one slender forefinger to her lips. Then she looked away, smiling. She stuffed the bills into her purse and dropped it into her bag. Jas turned his face back towards Mills.

  "I didn't think you were here yet." He said. "I have the room ready and everything. Let's go upstairs."

  "Okay, just a minute." Mills turned around, freeing herself from Jas's arms. She approached Paige and took her hand. "So, I've gotta go, but text me, okay, when you get to LA? Here's my cellphone number."

  "You bet." Paige replied, her eyes refusing to meet Jas's. She shouldered her bag. "I guess I'd better get going."

  "Safe trip." Mills replied, letting go of her hand. Paige gave her a big smile, then stepped past Jas. Almost imperceptibly, completely unseen by Mills, Paige winked at him, and then she was gone.

  "What was that about?" Jas took Mills's hand and squeezed it gently. She leaned into him as they left the bar.

  "Oh, nothing. Just a girl I met at the bar. Totally cool. Too bad she has to leave. I think we could have been good friends."

  "I will read the part of The Professor, oui? This is an important scene. Claire has followed him into his room. He has a present for her, but he wants her to close her eyes first. We'll go from there?" Etienne took up a sheaf of papers from the table and passed half of them to Tibby. He walked over to the bed and turned back to face her. Tibby stood beside the bathroom door in Etienne's long white shirt. She glanced at the script in her hand. It had a streak of dried red wine across the front. She smiled.

  "Okay, let's go." She took a deep breath and stepped into the bedroom.

  The Professor: Claire?

  Claire: Sorry, I should wait outside.

  The Professor: Nonsense, my child. We are friends, no?

  Claire: I think so.

  The Professor: I think so, too. And if we are friends, we should keep nothing from each other, am I correct?

  Claire: Yes.

  The Professor: I told you I had a present for you. Would you like to see it?

  Claire: Yes please.

  The Professor: First you must close your eyes.

  Claire: Okay.

  The Professor: Now hold out your hands-

  They were interrupted by a loud knock at the door. Two sharp raps. Etienne Girard looked at Tibby, then sighed.

  "Merde. It seems we cannot get our work done today. Please excuse me." Etienne put his script down and headed out of the bedroom. Tibby heard the knock again, a moment before Etienne reached the door and opened it. She sat down on the bed. It was incredibly soft, and she wanted to lean back into the thick pillows. She heard another man's voice at the door, talking louder than Etienne. Actually, it sounded more like-

  "Tibby! Tibby?" She heard her name being called. Louder, inside the next room, she recognized it.

  "Brand? Is that you?"

  "Tibby?"