Secrets (1985)

by Steel, Danielle

  Once. A long time ago. Actually, I was there on location. Will we be filming any of the episodes there?

  I don't think so. Although maybe the second year ' There's room for almost anything in a format like that, and we're always open to suggestion. She liked everything he was saying to her, but even more than that, she liked the way he looked at her, as though he cared about her, more than anyone had in years. It touched her, and she reached out and touched his hand with her own.

  I'm grateful for the opportunity, Mel. I know that sounds corny, but I am' . The words were in sharp contrast to Sabina's image as a self-possessed star, but she knew just how lucky she was to get a part like that, at her age. And he was right. A part like that, on a series like Manhattan, could make her the biggest star in the country. It was a hell of a big break to get at the age of forty-five, no matter how good her plastic surgeon was, or what kind of shape she was in. She was damn lucky and she knew it. And she knew it was all thanks to Mel, and she wanted him to know that.

  Don't thank me, Sabina. I wouldn't be here if you weren't someone very special. You'll be good for the show. But they both knew it was more than that, and before he could say anything more, she leaned forward and kissed him. It was a gentle kiss at first, but it was rapidly warmed by the passion she felt, and the fact that he took her in his arms and held her fast. His grip was strong, and his lips pressed hard against hers, and she was breathless when she pulled away at last. She said nothing but the look in her eyes said it all, as he kissed her again, and then stood up with a look of regret. But he knew his limits, and he had already reached them. Another kiss like that and he would have torn off the white satin dress, and he didn't think he should do that.

  I think it's time for me to go. He smiled down at her with a tender look that warmed her heart.

  Any special reason?

  He laughed softly in the dim light of her apartment. A very good one. You're driving me crazy, Miss Quarles. And if I'm expected to behave myself, I'd better go, before I attack the star of my new show.

  She smiled in the catlike way that drove him to distraction. I thought we were going to celebrate.

  I thought we had.

  I thought we were just beginning to. She gently pulled him down next to her again and nestled close to him, and then suddenly he laughed.

  I don't want to be accused of using the casting couch. I want it known right here and now that you've already accepted the part, Sabina Quarles, and this is purely a celebration.

  So stated, Mr. Wechsler.

  All right then. He kissed her again, and this time the heat of passion was his as she seemed to melt into his arms and he could feel the satin of her dress come away from her flesh beneath his fingers, and a moment later she stood before him, statuesque and perfect, in all her naked splendor, reflected from every angle by the two mirrored walls in the room. She was remarkable-looking, and taking his hand, she beckoned toward the bedroom. But as he followed her, it was the last time that night that Sabina led the way. From the moment they reached her bed, it was Mel who took over, leading her to heights she had long since forgotten and never dreamed of feeling again. It was a night of passion worthy of the two most important people of Manhattan. The producer, and the star.

  Chapter 8

  It was after Labor Day when Zack Taylor finally returned from Greece, looking tanned and very debonair in the new clothes he'd had made in London. He looked more like a polo player on holiday than a movie star. He had the aura of the upper classes about him, which had always been part of his appeal, and which was part of what made him so perfect for Manhattan. He had been away for three months, after finishing a film, but he was happy to be back in Bel Air. He had a beautiful home there, and, like everyone else, a house in Malibu, and he owned several racehorses, which he kept in Del Mar near San Diego. He was a man of many pursuits and numerous passions. And he was intrigued as he listened to Mel. He liked the sound of the show, and he especially liked the idea of Sabina Quarles. He had worked with her once before, and although she wasn't a big star, he knew she worked hard and performed well, and having her on the show still left him top billing.

  He ran a hand across his slightly wavy hair, grayed at the temple in recent years, and smiled at Mel. They had been having lunch at the Hillcrest Country Club. I'm curious to read the script, Mel. If it's as good as you say, you've got a very big winner. But then again, you always do.

  Thank you, Zack. He smiled and told him about Bill Warwick, and about the other actors and actresses he had in mind for the show. There were two in particular he wanted to pin down, but Sabina and Bill were the only sure ones. And the network is behind us all the way. He always worked with the same one, and he had no problem with them. They knew that anything Mel did was a sure thing, and so did Zack. And he had no quarrel with doing TV. He liked doing television in fact, and he welcomed the idea of an important series. He knew how valuable it was in terms of the numbers of viewers who would see him. It was a point Sabina had only recently acknowledged. But Zack had liked doing TV for years.

  Mel handed Zack a script, just as he had Sabina two weeks before, and he felt certain that Zack would be as impressed as they all were. Impressed and excited and anxious to get going on the show.

  I'll call you tomorrow, Mel. Zack never fooled around, never played games, never played Hollywood, and Mel had always liked that about him. I have nothing to do tonight, and I'll give it a good read and tell you what I think in the morning.

  I appreciate it, Zack. I think you'll like it.

  I can't see how I could do otherwise, after all you've said. The two men exchanged a smile and Mel wondered about him, as he had before. Zachary Taylor was a likable man, and someone he would have wanted to be friends with, yet there was always a discreet distance, an invisible wall. He never seemed to get close to anyone, and Mel wondered why. Perhaps he was shy, or just very reserved. It was difficult to believe, given his enormous success. But Mel had no idea who his friends were.

  The two men parted company outside, and Zack climbed into a convertible dark blue Corniche that was waiting for him outside. It was a fabulous-looking car, and he looked even more so, in his blazer and open blue shirt driving off toward Bel Air, with a last wave at Mel, as two women pointed and screeched, having recognized him at the wheel. And just wait till next year, ladies, Mel thought to himself with a smile as he got into the 600 and went back to the office.

  There was a message waiting for him from Sabina, and he smiled to himself as he looked at it. They had been together almost every night for two weeks and she had awoken a passion in him that he had never known before. They were dining together again that night. And he enjoyed showing her off, although they had decided to cool it. They were staying home for a while. He didn't think it was wise to let on publicly that they were having an affair. It was all right for the producer to take out his big star, but more than that would create problems for her with the rest of the cast when they started shooting.

  And he was still at his desk that afternoon, when Sabina answered the intercom in her apartment. The doorman said there was a package for her and only she could sign for it, which she did, with a questioning air, as a man handed her a robin's-eggblue box tied with white satin ribbon. She signed the stub, and closed the door, wondering who it was from, and she saw the lettering TIFFANY as she took the ribbon off. And suddenly she wondered if it was from Mel. She opened the box, and gave a startled gasp as a heavy diamond bracelet emerged. She put it on and it fit perfectly, but it was a remarkable piece of work, and she was so startled she could barely read the card, which said only Welcome to Manhattan.

  Chapter 9

  Jane Adams felt as though life had ended for her with the last day on the set of Our Secret Sorrows. There seemed to be nothing left to live for anymore, and once the children were back in school, it was so depressing she could hardly stand it. She read novels, lay by the pool, let Jack push her around constantly and make all the unreasonable demands he chose, as
he had for twenty years, and she didn't give a damn. About anything. And she refused to read any of the scripts or go to any of the auditions her agent mentioned to her. There was no point. There was nothing available on any current daytime soap, he had checked them all out, and she couldn't do prime time TV, even if she could get a part. There was no way she could keep it from Jack if she did that.

  And she was furious when her agent mailed her the script to Manhattan. He sent it right to the house, and Jack could have opened it just as easily as she had.

  Do you know what he'd do to me for that, Lou?

  What? He really couldn't imagine that the guy was as uptight as Jane said. No one was. Not in Lou Thurman's world.

  He'd divorce me.

  Read it anyway. It's terrific, and you don't know what I had to go through to get it.

  Why? What's so special about it? She sounded unhappy and bored and irritable with him, as she had for weeks. Once she had stopped crying about the lost part, she had gotten bitchy. But he knew how unhappy she was and what a crisis it was for her to lose a part she'd had for almost eleven years. It would have been rough on anyone.

  What's so special about this is that it's a new Mel Wechsler series, and he's casting. I want to submit a few tapes of Sorrows for him to see, if you'll let me.

  Is this daytime? For a minute, she sounded hopeful.

  Prime time. He was proud of it and she almost hung up on him.

  God damn it, Lou. I told you, I can't do that.

  Just read the script for chrissake, and we can fight about it later. He didn't tell her he had already sent a series of tapes to Wechsler's office, but he did call the next morning to tell her that Wechsler had called him.

  Why? She didn't understand. She had read the script the night before, after Jack went to bed, and it knocked her right out of her seat, but she also knew she couldn't touch it. Not on prime time TV.

  Why? He called me because he liked the tapes of you on Sorrows, that's why. Did you read the script?

  Yes.

  And? It was like pulling teeth.

  I loved it, but that doesn't make any difference. I still can't do it and you know it.

  Bullshit. If you get a part on that show, it will be the biggest break of your career you'll ever get, and I will kill you if you don't take it.

  He's not offering me a part anyway.

  He wants to meet you.

  She felt her heart skip a beat. When?

  Tomorrow. At eleven. He didn't ask her if she could do it. She had to.

  Can I wear a wig? Maybe she should go, just for the hell of it, just so she could tell Lou she'd done it. What harm was there in that anyway? Jack would never know' .

  I don't care if you wear all your wigs and a hat, just do it, Janie. For me ' please God '

  All right, all right. But I can't take a part on the show, just so you know that. She knew there was no danger of his offering her one anyway, but she was dying to meet Mel Wechsler. And when Jack came home that night, horny and a little drunk, she didn't care how disagreeable he was, how much he complained or how often he wanted to make love, all she could think about was Mel Wechsler, and her meeting with him the following morning. And when Jack finally fell asleep, she got up and read the script again. It was the best thing she'd ever read, and she hid it in her closet before going to bed and she lay there awake, thinking of what it would be like, just being at a studio again, even for a visit.

  The next morning Jack got up, as always, at five o'clock and left for his office at six. Jane made coffee for him, and she had an hour to herself before making breakfast for the girls. And by eight o'clock she was alone again, and had two hours to get ready for her big meeting with Mel Wechsler. She did her makeup carefully and selected a pretty beige dress she'd bought only the week before. It wasn't glamorous but it looked expensive and she didn't bother fixing her hair, because she was going to put on the wig on the way into L.A. She had chosen one of the shorter curly ones, and she planned to put it on in the ladies' room of a gas station on her way to the meeting.

  She was so nervous driving in that she almost forgot to stop, but she finally did, at a gas station off the Pasadena Freeway, and when she looked at herself, she almost decided not to go. She looked tired, there were tiny new lines next to her eyes, and the black hair suddenly didn't look right. She even toyed with the idea of not wearing the wig, but she didn't dare go with her own bright red hair. She completely forgot the voluptuous body poured into the beige cashmere dress, the sensational legs in high-heeled pumps, or her basic talent as an actress. She'd been good on Sorrows for almost eleven years. They hadn't kept her because she wasn't sleeping with anyone. She had stayed on the show for as long as she had because her performances were good, and sometimes they were even terrific. And viewer response to her had always been excellent. She got dozens of letters every week telling her how much she meant to them. But that seemed different to her. Mel Wechsler's shows were in another league, and she was so terrified her mouth was dry when she reached the gate. But the security guard smiled appreciatively at her. She was a pretty girl, except for the harsh black hair, and Mel noticed it too as she sat down across from him, crossing and uncrossing her legs, and clutching her purse as though it were a shield that would protect her from him. He was touched by how frightened she was. There was something so vulnerable about her, so innocent despite her age. It made you want to put an arm around her and tell her everything was going to be all right. But he also knew that it was exactly what the viewers were going to do. They were going to want to protect her from Eloise, and they were going to root for her. Jane Adams was exactly the counterpoint he wanted for Sabina Quarles. She was exactly what he'd had in mind, except for the black hair ' he kept staring at her as they talked and then it suddenly came to him, and he smiled to himself as he leaned toward her with a gentle smile.

  May I ask you something very rude, Jane?

  What's that? Oh God, she thought to herself, even more terrified, he's going to ask me to take off my clothes, he's going to do something to me ' he's ' she blanched as he went on.

  Is that your own hair?

  She had forgotten about the wig. This? She looked blank and then reached up to touch the stiff black curls. Oh. She blushed beet red. She was just like the girl next door, only a little older. No, it's not. I always work in ' that is, on Sorrows, I' How could she explain it to him as tears stung her eyes? That her husband had forbidden her to work years ago and she had had to have two identities so he wouldn't find out' .

  Would you mind terribly taking it off? He wondered if there was something wrong with her own hair, but he was startled as slowly she took off the wig, and sat in front of him, her own hair uncombed but beautiful, in what he could see was a beautiful and surprisingly natural red. Is that your own color, Jane?

  She grinned at him. Yes, it is. I always hated it when I was a kid. She shrugged, looking fourteen instead of thirty-nine and he wanted to whoop with joy. He had found his Jessica. She was perfect. Sabina, the sensual, powerful blonde, and Jane the sweet redhead everybody would love. The women would identify with her, because there was nothing threatening about this girl, despite her incredible figure and bright red hair, and the men would all want to go to bed with her, even the kids would fall in love with her, she was so damn likable. And he knew she could act, he had seen that on her reel. He had seen twelve of her shows in all, and she was good ' she was better than that' . He was beaming at her, and she was smiling at him. He wasn't what she had expected at all. He wasn't tough or rude or mean to her, she wasn't even frightened of him now. She could imagine being friends with him. She could imagine a lot of things. She could even imagine being in love with him ' if it weren't for Jack, of course ' he looked as though he would have been great with kids ' she thought of a lot of things as she sat looking at him, and he sat back in his chair, admiring her hair.

  You know, you're absolutely beautiful, Jane. He was admiring her professionally, seeing what they could make of her
on the show. There was nothing personal about the remark but she blushed anyway.

  I've always thought of myself as plain. And she was, in a way. She had a clean, all-Americanbeauty face with beautiful even teeth, and big blue eyes, and a pale stardust of freckles that even her makeup didn't hide. And on her they didn't look incongruous, they looked nice. That was the thing about Jane Adams, she looked nice, and sexy, and as though you wanted to be her friend, but she looked as though she could have been fiery too. He was going to bring that out in her. He was going to do a lot of things with Jane. Including have her dressed beautifully. Fran+oois Brac would know just what to do with her, and although her wardrobe wasn't going to be as extensive as the one they'd planned for Eloise, Fran+oois was committed to dressing the other women too, and Jane would look fabulous in his clothes ' in a fur ' in an evening dress ' Mel was squinting as he looked at her.

  How did you feel about the script, Jane? He smiled at her again. He had no real qualms about that, but he wanted to hear what she thought of it. She was a pro in the world of soap opera, and daytime was not so totally different from night, except for a little more melodrama perhaps.

  I fell in love with it.

  Zack Taylor is going to be the male lead. He saw the look in her eyes, and knew every woman in America was going to look just like that, as though she would fall out of her chair at the sight of him. We settled it last night. And Sabina Quarles has agreed to play Eloise. A private look came to his eyes that Jane didn't recognize. We have a young actor, Bill Warwick, lined up as Sabina's son, he's very good. His eyes questioned her, and this time she paled. And what about you, Jane? How would you feel about playing Jessica?