by Lynn Ames
Five minutes later, they found a parking space on a nearby street. Jay locked the car and they began walking.
“I didn’t realize Albany was so hilly.”
“Parts of it are,” Jay said.
“I love the marble.” Dara gestured to the open plaza in front of them. “What are the four identical buildings?”
“Agency Buildings One through Four. Imaginatively named, I know.”
“Truly.”
“They house workers for the various state agencies.” Jay swept her arm in the direction of a long rectangular building. “That’s the Legislative Office Building, although the Senate and Assembly Chambers are in the Capitol.”
“Nice that everything is so centrally located.”
“It makes things handy. Better yet, there’s an underground plaza, as well, so that in inclement weather, which is pretty much any time from November to April, you’d never have to go outside to get from one building to another. They’re all connected underneath where we’re walking now.”
“Smart architecture.”
“How does this spot look to you?” Jay pointed to a marble bench in front of a large rectangular reflecting pool.
“Perfect.”
When they were seated, Jay said, “Kate gave me the broad outlines of what you wanted to talk about. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all. As I told Kate, I only wanted to meet with her first because I wanted to be sure that what Rebecca and I are proposing wouldn’t be offensive to you.”
“Are you kidding me?” The breeze picked up and Jay tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m flattered.”
“Good.” Dara leaned forward. “I saw Black Quill’s cowardly backpedal in the pages of USA Today and the LA Times. I don’t know the particulars of your situation with getting the manuscript accepted by another publisher—”
“No takers.” Jay scoffed. “Nobody wants to go up against the IRS and the FBI.”
Dara’s eyes grew wide in surprise. “The…”
“IRS and the FBI. They paid a visit to Black Quill and persuaded them that it wasn’t in their best interest to pursue publication of the book.”
“How can they do that? What happened to freedom of the press and the First Amendment?” Dara knew she sounded naïve, but still…
“I forget that not everyone is privy to the way politics and government can sometimes work.” Jay stared off into the distance. “Unfortunately, I’ve had a few too many up-close-and-personal encounters.”
“I’m so sorry.” Dara gently put a hand on Jay’s arm. “I don’t know exactly what transpired with regard to you and Kate during the Hyland matter, but I gather that time must’ve been very difficult for you.” She saw the shadow of remembered pain transform Jay’s features, and she briefly regretted having brought up the topic.
“It’s okay. The bogey man can’t hurt me anymore if I shine the light in the dark places.”
“That’s what you’re trying to do with the book, right? Tell the truths you weren’t able to reveal back then? Set the record straight?”
“Government secrecy makes it more complicated than that,” Jay said, focusing her attention on Dara, “but that’s not a bad over-simplification.” She stretched out her legs and crossed them at the ankle. “All of this is way off the record, by the way.”
“That goes without saying.”
“I’ve already told you more than I should have.”
Dara held Jay’s gaze. “I would never violate your privacy. I hope you know you can trust me.” Even as she said the words, Dara felt a prick of conscience. After all, she, herself, was holding back an enormous secret. Wasn’t she?
Jay laughed mirthlessly. “I didn’t mean that. If I didn’t trust you implicitly, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. I simply meant that I’ve told you more than what is prudent for your own safety.”
Dara’s brow furrowed. “Are you in physical danger, Jay? Do you need help?”
“Oh, no.” More wisps of hair fell across Jay’s face and she swept them away with her fingers. “At least I don’t think so.”
There was something about Jay’s expression just then that made the hair on the back of Dara’s neck stand on end. Then, just as quickly, it disappeared.
“Anyway, the reason I’m telling you any of this is because you need to understand what is at stake and what you’d be getting yourself into if you really were serious about turning my manuscript into a screenplay and a film. It wouldn’t be fair of me to let you even consider the possibility without making you aware that there are very real risks for you and Rebecca.”
“We’re not completely guileless, Jay.”
“Oh my goodness! I would never suggest that you were. It’s just that you are as high profile as it gets, and you have reputations and careers to consider.”
“Fair enough. We’d go into any venture with our eyes wide open.” A large gaggle of women and men in business suits bustled by them and Dara waited for them to pass. “So, would you entertain the idea of going directly to film and bypassing the publication process?”
Jay cocked her head to one side and narrowed her eyes in thought. “I’d be interested to hear what you had in mind and how you thought it could work. On the one hand, I hate to let the bastards win and keep the book I worked so hard to create from being released. On the other hand, I’m kind of excited by the possibility of bringing the message to the big screen.”
“I wouldn’t look at it as a victory for the bullies,” Dara said. “After all, you’d have the last word.”
“Maybe,” Jay agreed, “but they won’t go away without a fight. I can guarantee you that.”
“We’ll be ready.”
“I don’t know the ins and outs of the movie business,” Jay said. “You don’t know the inner workings of the publishing business…”
Dara closed her eyes momentarily as a wave of guilt washed over her. I know it better than you’d think, Jay. If Jay was going to trust her with her work, shouldn’t Dara have an equal amount of faith in Jay? Belatedly, she realized she’d missed what Jay was saying. “I’m sorry. What?”
Jay regarded her quizzically. “Where did you go just now?”
“Why would you ask?”
“You had the oddest expression on your face.”
So much for being a great actress. “First, tell me what you said that I missed.” Dara knew she was stalling for time. Surely her secret would be safe with Jay. And yet… And yet, apart from Rebecca and Carolyn, not another soul alive knew, and she’d always intended to keep it that way.
“I said that if the movie industry functions anything like the publishing business, you can’t be sure your backers won’t turn tail and run too.”
Dara smoothed an imaginary crease in her jeans. “Well, here’s the thing about that. I would handpick the investors so that we would maintain maximum control over every aspect of the project.” She stopped fidgeting with the denim, squared her shoulders, and turned so that she and Jay were face to face. “But before we get into the nitty-gritty of that, I feel like there’s something I should tell you.”
“Okay. Does this have anything to do with wherever your mind just wandered to?”
“It does.” Dara blew out an explosive breath. Once she shared this, she could never take it back.
“Listen.” Jay momentarily covered Dara’s hand. “You don’t have to tell me anything that makes you uncomfortable. And whatever this is, I can see that it clearly makes you uneasy.”
Dara closed her eyes briefly again and took in a lungful of air. “No. You’re about to share something incredibly personal with me—a manuscript and story that is so close to your heart, that contains your truth. That means you deserve to know exactly to whom you’re entrusting such a vital piece of yourself.”
Dara cleared her throat. “The fact of the matter is, I know more about the publishing business than you would likely think.”
“You do?”
Dara nodded. �
��I do.” She bit her lower lip. Out with it, Thomas. “Do you remember when you asked me at the premiere if Constance Darrow would be attending?”
“Of course.” Jay pulled her legs back underneath her. “That’s it! You’re a personal friend of hers. I should have known—”
Dara burst out laughing, which stopped Jay in mid-sentence.
“Why are you laughing?”
“We’re not exactly close personal friends, although, technically, if you think about it, maybe we are.”
Jay scratched her head. “What am I missing here?”
“It’s safe to say that I’m intimately familiar with Constance, since she’s me and I’m her.” Dara said it all in a rush, as if doing so would make the revelation less significant.
“You’re…” Jay’s jaw worked, but no more words were forthcoming.
“I am Constance Darrow, the author.” Dara swallowed hard. “The only people in the world who know that are Rebecca and my agent Carolyn, whom you met.”
Jay blinked several times. “I’m sorry. I’m still wrapping my brain around this.”
Dara smiled wanly. “I know, right? I mean, who suspects a Hollywood actress of being able to put together an erudite thought?”
“It isn’t that,” Jay said. “You’re so obviously an intelligent, articulate woman. It’s that you’re my literary idol.”
The words were said with such reverence and wonder that Dara blushed.
“I’m sorry. I just gushed there, didn’t I? I mean, I imagine you get that kind of reaction as an actress all the time, but honestly? I’m in awe of your mind.”
The comment surprised a chuckle out of Dara. “You know? Of all the reactions I hoped you’d have, and trust me, I hadn’t planned to share that information with you today, that reaction was about as perfect as it gets.”
Jay covered her mouth with a hand. “I can’t believe it. I’m friends with Constance Darrow.”
“You’re a geek.” Dara playfully nudged Jay’s shoulder. “I should have known.”
“I am a geek, and I proudly own the title.”
Dara’s shoulders and back relaxed as a wave of relief flowed through her. “I created Constance as a counterpoint to all the objectification. I needed an outlet where I could be my most authentic self—where what people thought of me had nothing to do with my outward appearance.”
Jay nodded. “I can understand that. That’s why no one’s ever seen a picture of Constance. And why she never makes personal appearances. Anybody with a pulse would know who you are.”
“I don’t know about that…”
“Don’t be modest. You’re probably the most recognizable face in Hollywood right now.”
Dara fidgeted.
“I’m sorry. I probably shouldn’t have said that, but it’s true. With Constance, you have the luxury of anonymity. People have to judge you only based on your work. That’s brilliant.”
“Thank you.” Dara watched bemused as a series of questions raced across Jay’s countenance. “Go ahead. You can ask me anything.”
“How weird is it playing characters you created? I mean, if the director doesn’t know that you understand the character better than he or she does, that must be hard.”
Dara leaned back against the marble backrest. “It has its moments.”
“Well, at least you get to collaborate on the script, since Rebecca’s the one writing it. You do, right? Get to have a say?”
Dara reflected back to that first night working with Rebecca…
“Boy, that sure looked like a happy memory,” Jay said, breaking her reverie.
Dara shook her head to clear it. “With On the Wings of Angels, the original script was written by a guy who couldn’t find the motivations or nuances of the characters and the story with both hands.”
“That’s horrible.”
“It really, really was. And then a miraculous thing happened—the producers brought in a script doctor to fix it. Since Constance Darrow was unreachable and had a clause in her contract that she would not appear on set, they picked the next best thing—the world’s preeminent Constance Darrow scholar—to interpret the work.” Dara smiled at the recollection. “That was Rebecca.”
“That’s how you met, am I right?”
“Not exactly. We’d met once before, outside the David Letterman show after I’d made an appearance there. Rebecca had been corresponding with Constance for a while. Unfortunately, Dave asked Dara Thomas a question, and I used some of the same language in my response that Constance had used in a letter to Rebecca. She called me out on it and I freaked out.”
“Oh, no.”
“Not my finest moment. I was sure she would give my secret away.”
“What did you do?”
“I ran. And I never would’ve looked back, except that the producers unwittingly put Rebecca back in my orbit.”
“Awkward,” Jay sang.
“You can say that again.”
“I take it she didn’t let the cat out of the proverbial bag.”
“No, she never did.” Dara said. “But I’d had the reaction I did, and she was quite worried that I wouldn’t want to work with her. So she ferreted out Carolyn and asked her what she thought before accepting the assignment.”
“That showed resourcefulness.”
“It did. I was impressed. After I stopped being pissed about it.” Dara laughed self-deprecatingly.
“I love a good love story. When was the moment you knew?”
“That I was in love with Rebecca?”
“Yes.”
Dara allowed herself to get lost in the memory. “I fell in love with her during our correspondence, before I ever met her in person. But I think the second I knew for certain that she was my forever girl was the first line, the first scene she fixed in the script for that movie. She understood what needed to be conveyed even better than I did.”
Jay heaved a happy sigh.
“So you see,” Dara slapped her hands on her thighs, “I don’t collaborate on the scripts. I’d only muck it up.”
“That’s beautiful.”
A large crowd of state workers exited the closest building and Jay checked her watch. “Damn. It’s just about lunch time.” She stood up. “Before we get mobbed when people recognize who you are, why don’t we go grab some lunch and we can finish the discussion over a meal?”
“That works for me.” Dara stood up as well.
“If you’d be okay with it, I thought the most private place we could go for lunch would be our house.”
“That sounds fantastic. I’d love to see your home.”
“Is it okay with you if Kate joins us? I’d like her input on this.”
Dara smiled, her concerns about the state of Kate and Jay’s relationship allayed. “I would welcome her participation, if that’s what you want.”
“It is. We’re a team.”
“You’re a great team,” Dara agreed.
They walked in companionable silence toward where the car was parked. “Dara?”
“Hmm?”
“Would it be okay to share your secret with Kate? She’s the most trustworthy person I know. I mean, she kept the President’s secrets. I just hate to keep something from her.”
“I don’t expect you to keep Kate in the dark. By all means, tell her. Or I will.”
“Something that good? Oh, no. I get to tell her. That way I can go all fan-girl in private and not make you uncomfortable.”
“Good plan.” Dara squeezed Jay’s shoulder one last time and then let go. “I’m famished. What’s for lunch?”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Kate was off showing Dara around the house while Jay changed into a pair of jeans and a designer t-shirt. She needed these few minutes alone. Dara was Constance Darrow. Dara-freaking-Thomas was Constance Darrow! Jay said it again in her head. Maybe if she said it a hundred more times it would become real for her.
She zipped her jeans and ran her fingers through her hair one last time. Dara-freaking-T
homas was Constance Darrow, and she wanted to turn Jay’s manuscript into a movie. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. She wants to explore the possibility. That’s not the same as a contract offer.
“Jay? Are you ready yet? Lunch is served and Dara and I are starving.”
“Be right there.” Jay slipped on a pair of sandals and headed for the kitchen. Kate and Dara were seated at the kitchen island with plates of grilled chicken salad and bowls of soup in front of them.
“You have a gorgeous place. I’m in love with your library,” Dara said.
Jay walked up behind Kate and put her hands on her shoulders. “Thank you. Did Kate tell you that she designed the house and every room in it?”
“She neglected to mention that.” Dara wagged a finger at Kate. “You held out on me.”
“You didn’t ask, and it hardly seemed germane.”
“She’s too modest,” Jay said.
“Hardly.” Kate reached back and covered one of Jay’s hands with her own. “I didn’t pour your soup because I didn’t want it to get cold.”
“That’s okay. I’ve got it.” Jay squeezed Kate’s shoulders and released her. She walked over to the pot on the stove and ladled herself a bowlful of the homemade tomato bisque she’d whipped up earlier that morning. To Dara she said, “I hope you don’t mind soup and salad.”
“It’s perfect. I love tomato bisque.” Dara blew on a spoonful of the soup and tasted it. “Yum. This is some of the best I’ve ever had. Where did you get it?”
“Jay made it,” Kate said. “I married her for her culinary skills, since I can’t cook.”
“That’s not true. You make a mean French toast.” Jay leaned over and kissed Kate on the cheek.
“Breakfast is the most important meal of the day,” Dara said. She took another spoonful of soup.
“What happens now?” Jay asked.
Dara swallowed. “With my proposal?”
Jay nodded.
“First, we talk about the manuscript. Can you tell me a little bit about it?”
“How about if I give you a copy to read?”
“I was really hoping you’d offer that. I promise that Rebecca and I will be the only ones to look at it for now.”