Daddy's Girls

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Daddy's Girls Page 6

by Danielle Steel


  She left the set quickly after the announcement, and didn’t stick around. She called her agent when she got home, and he came right on the line. He spoke even before she did.

  “I know. I just heard. I’m going to have a dozen calls by five P.M. I didn’t expect that at all.”

  “Neither did I. Our ratings are through the roof,” Gemma said, still in shock, and a little angry now. It seemed so unfair. And it was going to turn her whole life upside down, in a very unpleasant way.

  “We should have suspected it. Abrams always closes his shows on a high, and this one really outlived all the predictions for it, and the projections. But ten years is ten years. Who knows, maybe he’s right. And I’d rather be looking for work for you after a hit, than after a show that went down the tubes, so there’s something to be said for that.”

  “How fast do you think you can find me work?” Gemma asked, sounding worried. It was no surprise to her agent. All his clients did the same thing. They lived high on the hog when they were on a hit show, but had nothing to live on if the show closed.

  “I’ll have to get out my crystal ball. I don’t know, Gemma. There are several new shows starting in the fall, but they’ve already got their stars lined up. I can definitely get you some appearances, but a starring role isn’t going to fall into our lap overnight. You know the reality here. You were thirty or thirty-one when you started on the show. You’re over forty now. You look fabulous and you don’t look your age, but work for a female over forty is not the same thing as for a thirty-year-old. It’s the ugly truth.”

  “Are you telling me I’m over the hill?” she almost shrieked at him.

  “No, but I’m telling you that there’s more work out there for a thirty-year-old than for a forty-year-old. That can’t come as a surprise to you. There’s work, but not as much of it, and a lot of forty-five-year-old actresses are scrambling for those parts.” She almost cried when he said it, but wouldn’t let herself.

  “Well, I need work. I have a hefty mortgage on my house.”

  “So does all of Hollywood. I have to look up your contract, but I think you get a three-month severance if they fold the show. Maybe four, I’ll check.”

  “Jerry, that will get me through the summer, and after that I’m screwed.”

  “Don’t panic yet. You’re a gorgeous woman with a big name. We’ll get you something, maybe enough appearances to tide you over for a season, and then you can jump on a new show. They’re doing great series out of England right now too. I’ll see what we can drum up there. Take it easy, Gemma, your career isn’t over. This is just a rough patch. It happens to everyone, and the show was bound to close at some point.” But she hadn’t planned for this at all. She lived lavishly from paycheck to paycheck, and had almost nothing in the bank. Her father had warned her about that. She never listened to him.

  She poured herself a stiff drink after they hung up, and spent the rest of the night figuring out her expenses, the ones she couldn’t avoid like her mortgage, what she paid her maid, although she could fire her, her car payments, and now she wouldn’t have the freebies she got on a show, like wardrobe and hair, which cost a fortune, and all the perks that went with a starring role. She was being catapulted back to real life. As much as she hated to hear it, he was right. At forty-one, she wasn’t going to have the wealth of parts to pick from that she had had at thirty-one. Work started to dry up at forty, and actresses her age, really talented ones with big names, were begging for parts.

  She was panicked, and she didn’t have her father to fall back on now. Before her part on the show, he had bailed her out several times, and even paid her mortgage for a year on the condo she had before her house. She didn’t have him to turn to now, and she could hardly ask Kate to support her. She didn’t even know that their father had helped Gemma repeatedly for several years until she landed the starring role. It was their secret, and now she had her back to the wall. She could sell her house if she had to, but she didn’t want to do that. She’d give up the Bentley immediately, and hope they would let her out of the lease, but there would probably be a stiff penalty. She had a ridiculously expensive tennis club membership she didn’t need, and a fancy famous trainer she paid five thousand a month to, who came every day. It occurred to her that she could rent her house out for the summer, furnished, and charge a fortune for it, if she really had to. But if she did that, where would she stay? She had the chilling thought that she could stay at the ranch for the summer, but that sounded like a fate worse than death. She could hardly make it through a weekend there, let alone an entire summer. She’d rather rent a studio apartment if she had to, but that was expensive too.

  She had to rethink it all now, and re-examine everything she did. No more designer clothes on Rodeo, on a whim, or two-thousand-dollar alligator shoes. For the past ten years she had been living a part, like the one on TV, that suited her, but now the party was over, and she had to scramble in all directions to survive. She had never been so panicked in her life, because she had gotten so used to all those luxuries that seemed entirely normal to her now, but she could no longer pay for them.

  By the next morning when she got to the set, she looked like she’d been dragged behind a bus by her teeth for a week, but everyone else on the set looked the same. There were only a very few actors who either lived simply, or had put money away. Most of them were like her, riding a wave, with the illusion that it would never hit the beach. It just had. She felt as though she had been run up on the rocks, and no one else on the show looked much better. They were worried about alimony, child support, rent, mortgages, private school for their kids, ex-wives, current wives, expensive girlfriends, and all the things they loved to do, from fancy restaurants to facials, trainers, shrinks, vacations, hotels, Ferraris. Gemma was not alone in her panic and misery, but that didn’t make it any better. The atmosphere on the set was agonizingly tense, and the only time anyone came to life was when they were on camera, but even their performances were impacted by how upset they were by the news of the day before. Their lifestyles and futures were on the line, and everyone was calling either their agent or their shrink or both. Her panic over her situation obscured her grief over her father for the moment, which was something of a relief.

  Gemma had no intention of telling her sisters what had happened. They’d hear about it soon enough, but Kate called her to see how she was doing, and she could hear something in her sister’s voice.

  “Something wrong?” She had an uncanny sense of her sisters, which made it hard to hide from her.

  “No, of course not. Just a long week on the set. I had a lot of scenes to catch up on, and well, you know, Dad…” She tried to blame her tone on him to get Kate off the scent. But she didn’t sound sad, she sounded panicked and anxious. In fact, she was so scared, she hadn’t thought of him in several days, except to lament the fact that he couldn’t bail her out this time, as he had in the past. He always came through for her, after a brief lecture about saving her money for a rainy day. But she was a star, and he knew she needed to maintain a lifestyle. She was Daddy’s Girl. He would have been horrified if he’d known what that added up to. She spent more on makeup and her trainer than most people did on rent, not to mention facials. She had a woman fly in from New York to give her facials, with a gentle electric shock machine for two thousand dollars a pop, plus her airfare and hotel. And she hadn’t thought twice about spending it until now. She flew first class everywhere, or chartered planes for the life of a star.

  “I just wanted to remind you that you’re coming up to go through Dad’s things. I think it’s hard on Juliette to have it all sitting there. It’ll be nice for her if we can go through it, keep what we want, and give the rest away. We still have his papers to go through. And we agreed to do it before Caroline goes to Aspen for the summer. They’ve rented a house there. And you’re probably going away too. Are you chartering a boat this year?” Her sister
s’ lives were on another planet from Kate’s, but she didn’t begrudge it to them. It was what they did, while she worked on the ranch, which was the life she had led, and wanted, for twenty years. She had raced home from college to do it, so now she couldn’t complain, and didn’t.

  When Kate asked Gemma about the boat, she felt sick momentarily, remembering what she had spent on it. Seven hundred thousand dollars for a week, which had seemed like nothing to her. But it had been fabulous, and she had invited ten friends to go with her. They’d gone to Monaco, Corsica, and Sardinia.

  “No, not this year,” she said, trying to sound casual. “I haven’t figured out my plans yet. I might stick around L.A. and do some work.”

  “Why don’t you spend the summer here?” Kate suggested. “You can drive down to L.A. if you need to, for a day of work, or a couple of days. You have a house here, you might as well use it.”

  “It’s a thought,” Gemma said bleakly. She could suddenly see herself living there, trapped in the Valley again, as though the last ten years had never happened. It made her want to cry, thinking about it.

  “I remember that we agreed to go through his things.” Gemma sighed and couldn’t come up with a good excuse not to be there. She really wasn’t in the mood to do it now. She had bigger worries.

  “Make sure Caroline can still do it too, so we can get it over with.” As long as they would be in the Valley again, she wanted to do their detective work in Santa Barbara, and check out their mother, if they had time. But they’d be busy going through their father’s things. It was a depressing project. Caroline wasn’t enthused about it either when Kate called her. She knew she had promised to do it, but she dreaded going back so soon. And their recent discovery about their mother had really upset her.

  “Do we have to do it now?” Caroline complained.

  “It’s like pulling teeth getting you two to come here, and I think it’s hard on Juliette having his clothes and papers all over the place. It feels like he’s going to walk in any minute. She’s been very respectful, and she wants us to do it. I think we should. Do you want to bring the kids?”

  “I’ll ask them. They may have plans, and I have to see what Peter wants to do. I’ll ask them tonight, and call you tomorrow to confirm.” Kate hung up, feeling frustrated. Getting her sisters to commit to a weekend in the Valley was like dragging a dead buffalo across the floor.

  Caroline brought it up at dinner that night, and Morgan and Billy were lukewarm about it. Morgan thought there might be a party at a friend’s, and Billy wanted to play tennis at their club. But Caroline was touched when Peter said he thought they should go. He told the children that they should be supportive of their mother, and reminded them that they’d have fun, and could go riding. They’d enjoyed their recent weekend there, despite the funeral.

  “Do you want to come too?” Caroline smiled at him, grateful for the help. She’d rather take the kids than go alone. They grounded her.

  “I can’t. I have to work. We’re in the middle of a big deal. I was going to tell you.” He looked regretful. “Why don’t the three of you go?” The children grudgingly agreed, and Caroline called Kate in the morning, and said she could make it, and was going to bring the kids.

  “Thad can take them riding while we sort things out,” Kate said, pleased. She was looking forward to spending another weekend with them, despite their sad mission, putting their father’s things away.

  Caroline and her children were going to fly in on Friday, and Gemma was going to drive up from L.A.

  “I’ll have to rent a car,” she said, sounding distracted.

  “Something wrong with yours?” Kate sounded surprised.

  “It’s so ridiculously expensive, and it’s really too much car for me, it’s more of a guy’s car. I turned it in, and I’m trying to decide what I want now.” Gemma sounded breezy about it.

  “How about a Rolls?” Kate teased her, and Gemma sounded vague.

  “Yeah. Maybe. See you soon,” she said, and hung up quickly. She had to call the bank to see if she could get a line of credit. She was trying to lease a less expensive car. And she needed to call her agent to see if he had any leads for work. Her life was a constant merry-go-round of terror now, trying to reduce her expenses, cancel things, and find work. Her agent had checked her contract. She was getting four months’ severance and could keep the wardrobe from the season, as she always did. All of which meant that by the end of September, she would have no money left, and no work. She had to do something about it, because there was no Daddy to bail her out this time. Daddy’s Girl was up the creek, and her life was down the tubes.

  Chapter 4

  On the weekend Gemma and Caroline had agreed to come to the ranch, both of them arrived on Friday night shortly before dinner. One of the ranch hands picked up Caroline and her children at the airport, and Gemma arrived in a small rented Ford. Kate had a simple meal set out for them at her house, and she’d gone to their cottages herself to make sure that everything was in order. Juliette had agreed to join them for dinner.

  Morgan and Billy couldn’t wait to go riding with Thad the next day. Juliette surprised the girls by telling them that she had decided to go home for the summer. She was returning to France for the first time in ten years, planning to visit friends in Bordeaux and Provence, and her brother in Paris, then go to their old house in the Camargue with him. It was going to be a big change from the ranch, but she felt she needed a change of scene. It was lonely for her there without Jimmy. She hadn’t expected his sudden death to hit her as hard as it did.

  “I’ll try not to screw up the books while you’re gone,” Kate said, smiling at her. Juliette had brought two bottles of good French wine to dinner, which she shared with the three sisters. It was a fine French Bordeaux that their father had loved too. Juliette had taught him about French wines, and he had become very knowledgeable, and had some excellent vintages stocked in his cellar.

  “You should take some,” she told Kate. “It will take me the rest of my life to drink it. Your father liked buying in large quantities.” He liked doing everything bigger, better, and more than anyone else. It was part of his giant personality. And in many ways, Gemma was a lot like him, although he hadn’t been a spendthrift like her, and was careful with money.

  She hadn’t intended to tell them, but after her second glass of wine, Gemma told them that the show had been canceled. There was shocked silence at the table for a moment, and no one knew what to say. Then Kate recovered herself.

  “I’m sorry, Gem. It must be incredibly disappointing.”

  “It is,” Gemma admitted. “I could see it if our ratings had gone down, but they’re stronger than ever. But that’s the way our executive producer likes to do it. Go out on a high, and leave them laughing.” Gemma looked as if she was close to crying, and Caroline reached over and patted her hand.

  “At least you’ve had ten great years on the show. You’ll probably get on a new show very soon,” she encouraged her. Morgan and Billy had left the table and were watching TV in Kate’s bedroom. She had just treated herself to a new TV.

  “Apparently not,” Gemma countered. “According to my agent, over forty, I’m screwed.”

  “That’s ridiculous. You don’t look your age,” Kate said, outraged. “I’m a year older than you are, and I look ten years older.”

  “I keep telling you, Kate, sunscreen and moisturizer!” Gemma scolded her and Kate laughed.

  “I know, I know.” But Kate was still beautiful too. Gemma looked incredibly youthful. Kate was right about that. “Is this going to have a big impact on you?” Kate asked her gently.

  “Impact? No. Knock me flat on my ass, yes, definitely. I’ve been living a little too lavishly. It gets to be a bad habit. And the studios and production companies spoil you. You can have damn near everything you want when you’re on a successful show, and then suddenly it’
s over. The clock strikes midnight, the show turns to dust, and you’re Cinderella, and Neiman’s takes back the glass slipper. I’ll be okay, I guess, but I need to cut back pretty dramatically. I’m thinking about renting my house out for the summer. It will help fill the coffers a little. There’s a lot that I can do without.”

  “If you rent your house, you can stay here for the summer,” Kate said warmly. “Hell, you can stay here whenever you want, you own the ranch now too. We all do. And you have a house here. You could commute to L.A. when you need to, for meetings and auditions.”

  “I hope I don’t have to,” Gemma said. “My agent says the new shows are pretty well set for next season, so it might be a slim winter, till they come up with new shows next spring. But he doesn’t think I’ll get a lead part at my age. The part I had was tailor-made for me, but I was thirty when they cast me. That makes a big difference.”

  “That’s disgusting,” Caroline said.

  “I have to admit, it’s been kind of a shock. None of us on the show were expecting it. It’s been a shit few weeks, between Dad and the show getting canceled.”

  “It always works like that,” Kate said with a sigh. “Bad things come in bunches.”

  “So do good things,” Caroline said optimistically. But Gemma thought that it was easy for her to say, with a husband who was a partner in a venture capital firm, and family money. Their life was totally secure. It wasn’t as visibly luxurious as Gemma’s, but they could do whatever they wanted. Private school for the kids, and they were thinking of buying a house in Aspen. Peter flew around on a corporate jet and made a ton of money. Caroline had nothing to worry about. She could write her young adult books when she felt like it. She didn’t have to worry about her future, her age, or a mortgage.

 

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