The inside of the Hana Hou was eerily quiet and semidark, with the exception of one lone stage light. My stomach began to do somersaults. Enough of this. I forced myself to laugh. What was I getting so upset about? I had given it my best shot and that was what counted. There were other theaters in the area, and I wasn't about to let Jeff squelch my dreams.
With my head raised high and proud, I stepped onto the dimly lighted stage and began to walk defiantly toward Jeff's office. Muffled voices were coming from the other side of the door, and I stopped to listen.
"Why were you at the restaurant with her?" Jeff asked.
A deep, familiar male voice answered. "Temple, you know I didn't have anything to do with Randy's death."
Instinctively, I covered my mouth with my hand. Howie was in there. Why was he here if Jeff was expecting me? Had I gotten the time wrong? Confused, I glanced down at my watch and noticed it said twelve o'clock. That couldn't be right. I pulled out my phone, and the time read 12:58. My watch must have stopped again.
Maybe they had just returned from lunch? If Jeff caught me eavesdropping again, he'd really be furious. Regardless, I pressed my ear up against the door anyway.
"I didn't say that you did," Jeff responded. "But please don't tell me you're still carrying a torch for her."
"Look," Howie said. "I may have had a thing for her years ago, and yeah, I did help Belinda out the other night when she was short on cash. The truth of the matter is that she's just a washed-up model who's had way too much plastic surgery. There's no fresh or redeeming qualities about her any more. Do you know what she did last night? She came to my room and offered me a good time in exchange for a part in my next film." He chuckled. "She said it would be a night I'd never forget."
Ew. My stomach churned. So, all the rumors I'd heard about Hollywood were apparently true.
There was another moment's silence before Jeff spoke. "I see."
"No, you don't," Howie retorted. "Jeff, I don't operate that way. And you have my word that I would never do that to one of your actresses."
They were talking about Rose now. That was why Howie was there—he'd be flying Rose off to California for a part in his movie. Even though I was happy for her, my heart sank as realization set in, and I envied her with every fiber of my being. I couldn't stand it any longer. So much for prolonging my suffering—I needed to get this over with. I sucked in a deep breath and knocked on the door.
Jeff opened it immediately and smiled. "Carrie, you're right on time. Come in." He gestured toward Howie. "You remember my old buddy Howie, right? The dapper director, as he's known."
I nodded, not daring to breathe.
"Sit down." Jeff offered me a chair.
I glanced with hesitation at Howie. Does he have to be here? The entire experience was humiliating enough. "Um, I can wait until the both of you are done talking."
Howie shook his head. "We've been waiting for you, dear."
Despite my so-called act of confidence and assurance, nausea stirred in the pit of my stomach. I shouldn't have eaten that breakfast burrito Poncho had made me earlier. At the time it had sounded great—scrambled eggs, fried rice, and Portuguese sausage with cheddar cheese in a flour tortilla. The guacamole and sour cream probably hadn't helped either. Just say it and get this over with. "Rhonda will make a great Beth. I'll call her and congratulate her."
Rhonda was the understudy for both myself and Jennifer—the woman who played my sister Amy. Of course this was also good news for Lena, the understudy for Rose. "And I'll be sure to congratulate Rose too," I offered. "She deserves the opportunity."
Howie and Jeff were staring at me like I had two heads.
"Carrie," Jeff said. "You're not making any sense. What does Rhonda have to do with this?"
My cheeks were on fire. "I…uh, figured that she'd be taking over for me."
Jeff shook his head. "There's no need. Howie's willing to let you finish out the show before you go to California."
"There are no hard feelings," I babbled on. "I know my singing was terrible, and really appreciate that you gave me a chance."
Wait a second. What did he just say? "I'm going to—where?"
Both men roared with laughter at my reaction, and Jeff again gestured to the empty chair. "Carrie, please sit down. I don't want you to fall over before I tell you that Howie would like you to screen test for a part in his next movie."
My legs trembled like Jell-O, and I couldn't move. "You want me? Not Rose? But I thought—"
Jeff walked over and gently helped lower me into a chair. Once I was seated, he flopped down in the one behind his desk. "You thought I was firing you?"
My brain was a mass of jumbled confusion, and I struggled to take it all in. "This can't be real." I spoke the words more to myself.
Howie cleared his throat. "It's very real, Carrie. I'd like to have you out in Hollywood as soon as the show finishes, the weekend after next. That would give you enough time to get your affairs in order here, right?"
"What about Rose?" I asked. "Is she going too?"
Jeff and Howie exchanged a glance.
"Don't get me wrong," Howie said. "Rose is extremely talented with a lovely singing voice, but she's a bit too pretentious on stage. You're the real deal. You have a gift, Carrie. A natural, fresh quality that comes across the stage and fills the entire room. That's what I'm looking for. There's a small role for a kindergarten teacher in my next movie, which is called Princes Can Be Charming. Monique Danson is the lead, and you would play her sister."
My jaw almost hit the floor. "The Monique Danson? I love her movies!"
Howie grinned. "Now, I can't promise you anything—yet. You'd have to take a screen test when you get out there. We'll take care of your airfare and set you up in a place to stay until the test is finished. If things don't work out, at least there won't be much of a cost involved for you." He puffed out his chest a bit. "There's always a chance the project could get shelved, but that's never happened with one of my movies."
I continued to stare at him, in a bit of a trance. What I had fantasized about my entire life was finally coming true. My big dream. Since I was a little girl, I had longed to be a professional actor or singer. Even though I loved to sing, I'd finally realized I possessed zero talent for it. Sure, several members of the audience had commented on how much they had enjoyed my acting performance, but no one had ever told me before that I had actual talent. I'd always assumed that the audience was just being nice. "How long would I be there?"
"Three months at most," Howie replied. "I'll have my secretary make all the arrangements and send everything over so you can take a look at your leisure."
My voice cracked with emotion. "Thank you so much, Howie. I promise not to let you down."
Jeff laughed. "Carrie, you sound like you could use a bottle of water. I'll grab one out of the fridge. Be right back." He opened the door to his office, and his loafers could be heard tapping against the wooden stage floor.
Howie reached over to pat my hand. "This could open a lot of doors for you, Carrie. Hollywood is always looking for fresh talent."
"Thank you so much." My entire body shook. "It'll be quite a change from slinging hash at the Loco Moco."
Howie's smile faded. "Jeff told me you were the one to find Randy in his hotel room."
The memory of Randolph's dead body once again embedded itself into my brain. "Yes. There are rumors that his wife might try to sue the Loco Moco, so we've been trying to figure out who's responsible." I wasn't sure if I should say anything more about Belinda, especially if Howie was still fond of her.
Howie's mouth tightened in a firm, taut line. "It doesn't surprise me. Belinda's pretty desperate for money these days, and Randy was worth more to her dead than alive, if you get my drift."
Only too well. "Are you saying she could have done it?"
Howie shook his head. "I would never accuse someone of a crime without all the details. But the fact remains that she had a motive, and a huge one. Don
't get me wrong. A lot of people wanted the man dead. Lord knows I wasn't too fond of him myself either, but I'd never have done such a thing."
An involuntary shiver went down my spine. "Do you remember a man named Sean Tyler who went to the college with you?"
He eyed me sharply. "Of course. He took off one night and was never heard from again. Where did you hear about this?"
How to get out of this one. "Uh, I enjoy following cold cases. It's a hobby of mine since I majored in criminal justice." The lies tumbled out of my mouth too freely and I was getting myself in deeper. "Jeff mentioned that he went to college with you, and I wondered if you knew Sean personally."
Howie shook his head. "Not personally. His girlfriend had the lead in a play that I was also in. Her name was Wendy Ritzer." A broad smile creased his face. "Every guy wanted to make it with her."
Real nice, Howie.
He laughed at the expression on my face. "Aw Carrie, give me a break. All of us college guys thought like that. Wendy wanted to be in the play and jumped at the chance to audition. She even had the nerve to call me last year and ask if I'd fly her out to Hollywood." He shook his head in disbelief. "Some things will never change. Her, uh, stage presence wasn't exactly what she was known for back in college."
That was obvious. "Do you know where she is now?"
"Last time we spoke, I believe Wendy said that she travels back and forth between Oahu and Kauai for work. Wendy's been married and divorced four times. Guess she thinks she might be the next Elizabeth Taylor." Howie snickered. "She recently sent me an 8-by-10 photo of herself. Let's just say that the years have not been kind to her."
If I could track the woman down, would she be willing to talk to me? What would it prove? Maybe nothing. "Sean disappeared the same night as a theater production at the college. It was a show called Destiny in December."
Howie's eyes widened in obvious recognition as Jeff reappeared and handed me a bottle of Evian.
"What's this about Destiny in December?" Jeff asked. "It's a play I wrote for my senior project in college." He sat down behind his desk, a smug look on his face. "I directed it too."
"Remember Sean Tyler?" Howie addressed Jeff but kept his eyes pinned on me. "Carrie said the night Sean disappeared was the same evening as your show. She's a big fan of cold cases."
"Really?" Jeff seemed intrigued. "You know, I do seem to remember the connection now. I don't think they ever found him. Are you giving up acting for detective work, Carrie? Howie wouldn't be pleased to hear that."
His tone was teasing, and I laughed. "It's only a hobby." I decided not to say anything else about Sean's disappearance. Howie continued to watch me, his expression curious. Okay, it was time for me to shut up now. Maybe he was afraid I'd turn out to be a troublemaker. I didn't want to do anything to jeopardize the opportunity he had afforded me.
Howie rose to his feet. "Carrie, I need to get back to my hotel. Do you need a lift?"
Although tempted, I didn't want to abandon Tad, especially after he'd been so good about bringing me here. "I have a ride outside waiting, thanks."
Howie held a business card in his hand. "I'll be in touch within the next couple of days. In the meantime, feel free to call if you have any questions. I'm headed back to California at the end of the week and might not see you until you get out there." He removed a pen from his shirt pocket and scribbled a number on the back of the card. "Call my personal cell if you need anything—anything at all."
My entire body was numb as I shook his hand. Jeff came over and enveloped me in a warm hug, beaming from ear to ear. "This is going to look great in future programs. We'll put your picture up on the wall so we can tell everyone that you got your start right here, at the Hana Hou!"
"Thank you both so much," I said gratefully and closed the door to the office behind me, still stunned at what had taken place. My head was spinning, and I practically floated across the stage toward the exit door, feeling light as a feather.
My phone pinged with a text. I withdrew it from my pants pocket and looked down at the screen.
You okay? We took a quick coffee break, and I wanted to check in. Don't worry about the show, sweetheart. You'll always be a star in my book.
Reality raised its ugly hand of truth and smacked me in the face. What was the matter with me? How could I even think about leaving Keanu?
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Distraction was my middle name for the rest of the day. Like a robot, I waited on customers, turned in my orders, then promptly forgot what table went with which order. Poncho hollered at me twice, Vivian grew impatient, and much to my chagrin, Keanu's parents were back and huddled upstairs in the office, conducting business during his absence. To my relief, Terry left for the same meeting as Keanu at about three o'clock. On his way past, he'd grunted a "hello" but wouldn't meet my gaze.
I was too preoccupied with Howie's offer to worry about Terry right now. It still seemed unreal. This type of thing didn't happen to country girls like me. I have an opportunity to go to Hollywood! Millions of girls dreamed of this chance, but it belonged to me. Me. Ever since the tender age of nine, I'd been picking up my little pink desk lamp and giving Oscar acceptance speeches with it. Now I was being slated to act in a movie called—of all things—Princes Can Be Charming. How ironic.
The sad part was that I had already found my Prince Charming.
I'd texted Keanu back and explained that I hadn't been fired from the show—it was all a huge mistake, and I'd give him the details in person later. I also said that new information about Randolph and his college chums had surfaced and I'd like to get his input. He'd said he would pick up Chinese food and meet me at my apartment as soon as the meeting finished.
"What's with you?" Vivian asked after I'd delivered some food to an elderly couple out on the patio. "Something's bugging you."
"It's nothing. I'm a little stressed with everything going on." I was fond of Viv, but like Tad, she had a hard time keeping things to herself. Unfortunately, Tad had refused to budge from the parking lot until I had told him what had happened. He swore that he wouldn't tell anyone, but this had to be eating away at him. Tad had as difficult of a time keeping a secret as I did trying not to snoop.
Vivian watched with interest as a pretty woman with sandy blonde hair entered the café from the lobby entrance. She was slightly taller than me and a few years older. She caught me staring and waved shyly in return. I recognized her as one of the surfing instructors who worked with my ex, Brad. I had broken off our relationship a few months back after discovering he'd been cheating on me. Since then I'd seen Brad on a few occasions but only from a distance. Each time he'd been with a different but equally gorgeous-looking girl.
In a strange way, I was grateful to my ex. If I hadn't followed him to Hawaii, I never would have met Keanu. As far as I was concerned, the two men were at complete opposites of the male spectrum.
Vivian gripped my arm in a sudden panic. "That's Samantha, who's dating Casey! And she's sitting in my section!"
Casey was an English bartender at The Lava Pot who'd had Vivian drooling all over herself for months. She'd done everything she could to get his attention, with the exception of running into The Lava Pot naked. From the rumors I'd heard circulating, it appeared Casey and Samantha were pretty tight. I didn't want to be mean but thought it might be time for Vivian to let go of her obsession.
Vivian's nails dug into my flesh, and I let out a small yelp of pain. "Down, girl. If it makes you feel any better, I'll wait on her."
She sighed despondently. "Please. I've heard she's nice, so that will only make things worse. I really need to go home and drown my sorrows in a glass of chardonnay."
Samantha glanced down at the menu and then looked over at us expectantly. I patted Vivian on the arm and approached the table. The young woman smiled up at me.
"Hi, Carrie, how are you?"
"Just fine. It's nice to see you, Samantha."
"Call me Sam." She ran a finger down the side of
the laminated menu. "I'll have the pulled pork wrap with lettuce and tomato and an iced tea, please. I hate to be a pest, but is there any way to hurry up my order? I've got to get back and relieve Brad. He needs to take off early and doesn't like to be kept waiting."
"Sure, no problem." I took the menu from her outstretched hand. "Sounds like not much has changed with dear old impatient Brad. How's he doing these days?"
She rolled her eyes. "The same as ever. Don't get me wrong. He's one of the best surfers I've ever seen and really knows the sport. But that ego of his is bigger than the ocean."
"It is always growing, isn't it?" I mused. "Kind of like Poncho's homemade bread in the oven."
Samantha sighed. "He has a waiting list for students. Wish I did."
"Let me guess. All female?" I asked.
She gave me a wry grin. "You know it. I guess some women will never learn."
We had a good laugh together, and then I went to turn her order in to Poncho. Seeing his laptop on the nearby counter reminded me that I wanted to check on Wendy's status. "Is it okay if I borrow your computer for a second?" He was OCD about most things in the kitchen, but the laptop wouldn't be an issue for him.
"Help yourself." Poncho waved the order slip at me. "Is this for the surfer girl out there? She gives lessons to children, right?"
"She does." Brad couldn't stand kids, another one of his endearing qualities.
"When her order is ready, I will bring it out personally. I want to ask her about lessons for my boys."
Poncho was making Samantha's sandwich with one hand and using an electric mixer with the other. I watched as he dropped white chocolate chips, macadamia nuts, fresh pineapple, and coconut into the mixture.
"Is that cookie batter? It smells amazing."
Poncho cocked his head with pride. "These are my Aloha cookies. The dough must chill in the fridge for a bit, but they should be ready for you to sample before you leave."
"Can't wait."
Poncho's eyes observed me thoughtfully as I maneuvered the mouse. "What is wrong with you today? You have been very distracted and not as sharp as usual. And do not say 'nothing'—you cannot fool me."
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