All My Tomorrows

by Colette L. Saucier

  Alice’s hair had curled in the humidity, and Eileen pulled down one ringlet and laughed as it bounced back. “I know women who would kill for those curls. So you’ve been to your room?”

  “Yeah, it’s on the next floor up. I like we’re so close to Bourbon Street! I hope you have time to hit the bars and don’t need me to be running lines with you all the time.”

  “Hardly! I have several scenes but not many lines. They’ve changed the role now from ‘old hag’ to ‘voodoo woman.’” They laughed together, but then the smile fell from Eileen’s face. “Alice, I need to talk to you about something.”

  Uh-oh. How many words was that? “That doesn’t sound good.” They sat down on the bed.

  “It’s about Peter. He’s here.”

  “What.” Definitely a statement of disbelief and not a question.

  “He told me not to say anything, but he’s the one who helped me get this role.”

  “What!” Alice jumped off the bed and gaped at Eileen.

  “I had been telling him how I wanted to be a character actor, and he got me the audition. I couldn’t tell you it was on his film without you figuring it out. I had no idea he was suing the network, and I didn’t think he would be here the same time as you. Do you hate me?”

  “Hate you? Au contraire. This is perfect! I’m going to kill him!”

  Eileen stood and took her friend’s arm. “No, no. Please don’t. At least not until after production. I don’t want to lose this part. There’s no reason for you to even see each other. He never goes out with us, and he and I only have a few scenes together.”

  Alice rubbed her eye and temple. “Oh, don’t worry. I would never do anything to jeopardize your career. But if I’m still here when the film wraps, you better believe he’s going to get it.”

  Alice’s stay in New Orleans fell into an easy routine of eating too much rich food, partying all night with the cast and crew, drinking far too many cocktails, and being too hot and miserable during the day to move any faster than a slug. It was perfection. Plus, all of Eileen’s scenes had been filmed in the French Quarter while Peter filmed at a plantation house up river, so she had not even seen him.

  She heard about him, though. Eileen had become fast friends with Evan, the flamboyant costume designer on the film, and he loved gossip. His latest scoop was the torrid love affair between Peter and Cleo Crandell, the young lead actress in the film.

  “There is no doubt,” he told them as he held various dresses up to Eileen with Alice sitting near, watching. “They are definitely doing the nasty. That’s why they never come out of that hotel.”

  “Maybe they are trying to stay cool,” Alice said.

  “Uh-uh. Two nights in a row, they have holed up in his suite and had romantic dinners brought in.”

  “Ha! Poor Winnie.”

  “I do feel sorry for Winnie,” Eileen said. “You know this is going to hit the tabloids. I wonder why she didn’t come down with him.”

  “I think COD is back in production. I don’t feel sorry for her. She’s getting a taste of her own medicine after splitting up Peter’s marriage. My mother always said, ‘Once a cheater, always a cheater.’”

  “You know that’s right,” Evan said.

  “Well, we have our first scene together tomorrow,” Eileen said. “What’re you going to do? Would you rather he not know you’re here?”

  “Who? Peter?” asked Evan. “He already knows Alice is here.”

  “What?” Eileen and Alice asked together.

  “Mmm-hmm. The others were talking about how you have been going out every night, and he asked if they were talking about Alice McGillicutty.”

  Alice rolled her eyes. “Great. I can only imagine what he had to say about me.”

  “Actually, the only thing I heard him say was that he hoped you were being careful. Waaait…Did you two…?”

  “What? No. Oh no. Ours was a professional relationship that did not end well.”

  “Well, he doesn’t seem to have held a grudge.”

  “He has no reason to! He is the offending party here.”

  “So what about it?” Eileen asked. “Are you coming on the set with me tomorrow or not?”

  “I have no reason to avoid him. If he feels uncomfortable having me there with this lawsuit hanging over our heads, it serves him right.”

  Alice stood back at a discrete distance as the actors rehearsed the scene. She couldn’t help but laugh to herself at the travesty of a production. The leading lady’s inability to act did nothing to aid the preposterous dialog. And he had the audacity to ridicule our scripts! From Peter’s weary face and defeated posture, she suspected he held the same opinion. Or maybe he’s just hot.

  Peter, Cleo, and the director were discussing the blocking when Peter said, “What if, right after that, she turns around with her back to me so we are both on camera. Then my reaction to her lines will be more ominous as I come up behind her.”

  Alice burst out laughing and, even covering her mouth with her hands, could not control herself. Peter straightened and faced her, his intense gaze squelching her laughter. He said something to the director, who then called for lunch, then strode directly toward her as her eyes widened at his approach.

  “You find something amusing, Miss McGillicutty?”

  “That’s soap opera blocking!” she said with an incredulous grin.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “What you just suggested to the director – you got that from us!”

  He didn’t refute it. “How…how have you been?”

  The memory of their last meeting rushed through her, and her face heated with the awareness of that encounter.

  “I heard you were here,” he said when she didn’t answer.

  “I thought you were filming in Toronto.”

  “We did for a month, then production moved here.”

  “If I had known you were here…”

  He finished her thought. “You wouldn’t have come.”

  His eyes held her in place with the force of gravity, and a curious lump formed in her throat. For a moment, one brief moment, she forgot why she hated him – his arrogance, his vanity, his concupiscence – but then Cleo’s voice rang out calling his name and popped the bubble that had surrounded them.

  “Just a minute,” Peter called out.

  Alice shook her head to clear the dizziness. “Peter, this movie.”

  “I know.”

  “The dialog.”

  “I know.”

  “And vampires in Louisiana? How original.”

  “I signed on when, well, things were different. More as a favor for a friend.”

  A vaguely familiar actor whom Alice had seen in several scenes but didn’t know by name walked up to them. “Hey, Pete, who’s your friend.”

  Peter cringed and sighed. “Alice, this is Dirk – Dirk Schoenstein – he plays Portia’s nephew. Dirk, Alice is the head writer for All My Tomorrows.”

  “You’re kidding!” Dirk said as he shook her hand. “I was on that soap for two years.”

  Peter flinched at this information. “You never mentioned that.”

  “Oh, yeah! Sienna’s first lover. She gave up the Church for me.”

  Alice laughed. “Oh, so you’re the one! That was before my time.”

  Dirk’s eyes were smiling and friendly. “I’m sorry I missed you. Or maybe I just don’t remember because of my amnesia.” He and Alice laughed.

  Peter said, “Seems like everyone on the show has slept with Sienna except me.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Dirk said. “I heard about the ‘shocking revelation.’ So how is Giselle? I haven’t seen her in a dog’s age.”

  “To be honest, she’s having a rough time right now,” Alice said then turned to Peter. “You know, your friend is a real ass.”

  “Why? What happened?” Dirk asked.

  “Giselle and this guy were dating, pretty seriously she thought. Then once his pal Peter was off the show, she never
heard from him again. Bitch-buttoned her calls, wouldn’t reply to her texts. No fight, no break-up email, nothing.”

  “He sounds like a douche.”

  “That’s what I told her, that anyone who would do something like that didn’t deserve her; but she’s still really broken up about it.” She glanced at Peter for his response, but he just frowned and squinted at her. “You’re not going to defend him, are you?”

  “Peter!” Cleo’s voice rang out from the other side of the set.

  “You better go,” Alice said. “If she screams again, I might have to strangle her.”

  He smiled and walked away.

  The group of cast and crew were virtually the only inhabitants of the courtyard at McMurry’s; and Alice sat with Eileen, Evan, and Dirk at a table near the flaming fountain.

  Dirk said, “I’m surprised there aren’t more tourists.”

  “Well, it is a Monday night,” said Eileen. “They are probably going home or still recovering from the weekend.”

  “Or maybe they are just hot,” Alice said, eliciting groans from Evan and Eileen.

  “How long are you going to bitch about the heat?”

  “I guess until I cool off.”

  Then the voice. “Try this. Maybe it will cool you off.”

  Alice spun her head around and reflexively accepted the glass Peter extended to her.

  “A mint julep,” he said. “May I join you?”

  Well, who is going to tell Peter Walsingham no? Alice didn’t budge but sipped her drink as the others rearranged chairs to accommodate the new arrival.

  “It’s delicious,” she said to Peter once he had settled beside her. And it was. “Thank you.” He nodded in reply.

  “What brings you out, Pete?” Dirk asked. “You aren’t afraid that the film will suffer if you aren’t holed away rehearsing?”

  “I don’t think the film could suffer any more than it does already,” Peter said.

  “And where is your lovely co-star?” Alice asked.

  “Cleo? I sent her to bed with warm milk and the script.”

  “Perhaps she could put it under her pillow and learn her lines by osmosis.”

  He smiled at her. “Nothing else has worked.”

  He smiled at me...

  Nothing felt right. Nothing felt real. Conversations continued around her, but she heard all of the voices as if she were underwater. Her skin waged a shoving-match with the atmosphere, the heavy, floral-scented night air covering her like a warm, damp blanket. She had already had three cocktails. She must be drunk from the alcohol and the humidity. She drank the mint julep then fished two ice cubes from the glass and put them on the nape of her neck. She closed her eyes as the ice melted into a cool rivulet down her back.

  “Are you okay?” Peter asked, and she opened her eyes.

  “Yes, I really am just hot and tired and – oh, my God.” At the sight of the scurrying creature on the wall, she spoke low but wanted to scream.

  “What is it?”

  “What was in this drink? Please tell me I’m hallucinating.” He followed her line of vision. “On the wall. Right there. Running on the wall. Is that a…a rat?”

  “Do you mean with the white fur?”

  “Well, yes!”

  He turned back to her. “No, I don’t see anything. I think you are hallucinating.” He stuck two fingers into her glass and retrieved more ice. He leaned toward her and ran his hand beneath her hair and held the ice against her skin.

  The nearness of his mouth made her dizzy and her heart race, and his holding the ice against her somehow made her warmer. “Then how did you know it was white?”

  “Oh, the white fur. No, that’s not a rat. That was a cat.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “I don’t think I believe you. Eileen?” But by the time she got Eileen’s attention, the ivy-covered walls were critter-free.

  “Do you want another drink?” Peter asked.

  “Are you trying to get me drunk?”

  The ice had melted, but he still held his hand against her damp neck, his fingers gently massaging the base of her skull. “I think I’m too late for that.”

  He’s trying to seduce me. He’s trying to seduce me, and it’s working.

  Eileen called out, “Alice, are you ready to go?”

  Alice nodded, and Peter stood with his hand still on her neck and offered to walk them.

  “No, we’ll be okay,” Eileen said. “It’s just a few blocks.”

  “I’m worried about her.”

  Once Alice realized Peter meant her, she forced herself to her feet. “No, I’m fine. You stay here and enjoy your juleps.”

  Peter reached for her hand, but Alice turned and walked across the courtyard and through the hall out to the Quarter before he could say anything.

  Eileen ran up behind her. “Alice, what is going on with you and Peter?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing. I’m like the Matterhorn to him.”

  “The Matterhorn?”

  “Just another conquest he has yet to make. He wants to plant his flag in me.”

  CHAPTER 9

  “Why are you crying?” Alice asked Eileen when she found her sitting alone in the courtyard behind the bar.

  “I don’t know.” Eileen sniffed and wiped at her eyes with a cocktail napkin. “I’m happy; I’m sad. I can’t believe it’s over. My first film!”

  Evan walked over from the bar and set down three cocktails. “She’s just sorry our little family is breaking up,” he said as he sat down.

  “Don’t make fun, Evan. I am going to miss everyone. I wish I were going to Toronto with you.”

  “We only have to reshoot a few scenes, just a few days. I will call you as soon as I get back to L.A. Now stop all that crying and let’s have a good time tonight. A toast.” They lifted their plastic cups. “May all the bridges we burn light our way.”

  After one recklessly large sip, Alice contorted her face and stuck out her tongue. “Blech! What is that?”

  “Red Bull and vodka. Keep drinking – you’ll get used to it. I want you girls to have plenty of energy tonight for singing!” He sang the final word.

  “Oh, yeah – no one told me this was a karaoke bar. Eileen knows I hate karaoke.”

  “Come on,” Eileen said. “It’ll be fun. It’s our last night. You have a wonderful singing voice.”

  “Uh-uh. No way. Since it’s the last night and won’t become a regular thing, I’ll stay and laugh at all of you, but I am not getting on that stage. There’s a reason I work behind the scenes.”

  “What reason is that?” Peter’s voice asked behind her.

  Alice twisted her neck to face him. “I do not perform for strangers.”

  The corners of his mouth turned up a fraction of an inch. “May we join you?”

  “Where is Cleo?”

  He blinked and said, “How should I know?”

  Dirk had walked out with Peter and maneuvered another chair next to Alice and sat down. “How are you, pretty girl?”

  After the night of what Alice referred to as the “Rat McFurry’s Incident,” the cast and some of the crew had continued to patronize the French Quarter’s drinking establishments – with Alice, Eileen, Evan, and Dirk making up an odd foursome – usually concluding at a corner bar with an eighties cover band, but of the Def Leppard/Bon Jovi variety. No fear of hearing “Careless Whisper” there. Peter would appear wherever they were, sometimes with Cleo. In general, Alice had managed to keep her distance since Dirk monopolized her attention while Peter hovered nearby. Occasionally the paparazzi would arrive, snapping photos of the film’s two stars, prompting Peter to leave. For the most part, in a city known for leaving celebrities alone, no one approached him, although there were plenty of gawkers and phones taking pictures.

  Peter pulled a buzzing cellphone from his pocket and, after checking the screen, excused himself to take the call.

  “Why did you bring him here?” Alice asked Dirk the moment Peter walked away.

&n
bsp; “He didn’t give me much of a choice. I think he was waiting for me, then he asked if he could join us. What was I supposed to say? It’s Peter Walsingham, for Christ’s sake.”

  Alice took another sip and her lips squinched involuntarily. “Karaoke and now Peter. Can’t I at least get a decent cocktail?”

  “I could take you someplace else.”

  Eileen glared at him. “Don’t you dare!”

  “No, it’s okay,” Alice said. “I can tolerate him for one night. And now that you’re done, I can confront him about the lawsuit.”

  “Please, Alice, not tonight. Can’t you just let it go for one more night?”

  Alice blew out a deep breath and nodded. “The things I do for you.”

  “I gotta say, this is really refreshing,” Dirk said. “Most women – especially from L.A. – are constantly throwing themselves at Peter hoping he will get them into movies.”

  “Maybe they just want to screw a good-looking movie star,” Alice said.

  “Hmm…maybe, but some people will do anything to be ‘discovered.’ When we were up in Toronto, Peter told me he found out this woman had been sleeping with his agent to help her film career.”

  Alice stopped breathing. “What?”

  “Yeah, she was probably using him to get to Peter. Jack looked really bummed about it when he found out.”

  Alice’s face went numb, and once she realized she still hadn’t taken a breath, she gasped for air.

  “Are you okay?”

  Before she could answer Dirk, Peter returned and took the seat across from Alice. “Sorry about that. I’m trying to straighten some things out for tomorrow.”

  Alice told Dirk, “I’m going to need more alcohol. Can I get a real drink?” He signaled for one of the waitresses who had been loitering nearby. Hoping for the opportunity to serve Peter, no doubt. “I’d like a whole lot of vodka and a splash of cranberry.”

  After one of those, Alice’s mood had improved substantially, and she laughed with the others as they recounted anecdotes from the film as if reminiscing about things that had happened years ago instead of just the week before. A waitress approached Peter with a rack of bright-colored test tubes.