“So drinking wine or martinis doesn’t loosen your tongue?”
“No. I’ve been prescribed anti-anxiety meds too. Nothing works.”
“Wow.” Ella swiveled her chair and looked out her window, past the long gold velvet curtains to a beautiful view of the right side of the front garden. She saw an oak, the cherub fountain spouting water, and part of the wrought-iron gate. “There’s got to be away around this.”
“I wish I knew,” said Roberta. “I never told you because it’s embarrassing. I sound like a kook telling you the reason. All these years, I’ve been hoping to outrun this curse. I wake up on date mornings and think, ‘This time, tonight’s date will be different. I’ll have a wonderful time. I’ll be able to speak.’ But it never is.”
“How awful for you,” Ella said, turning back to face her.
Roberta’s eyes grew shiny. “I know.”
Ella reached across her desk and took her hand. “We’ll figure this out. I promise. I’m so glad you confided in me.”
Roberta sniffed and nodded. “I’m glad I did too,” she whispered.
“Don’t you worry,” said Ella.
But inside, she was worried. What was she going to do?
CHAPTER EIGHT
After Roberta left, Ella checked her phone. You’re in, came a text from Ancient History. Ella chuckled at the name she’d given Hank. They’re sending the script over tonight to the carriage house.
She closed her eyes. Acting in a movie starring Samantha Drake! Ella never would have believed this could happen to her. All right, a long time ago, she could have believed it, when she was actively pursuing acting as a profession in New York City and she’d honestly thought it was the only thing she ever wanted to do. But not for years and years and years …
She opened her eyes and texted Hank: I can’t believe it.
Believe it, he wrote back. Samantha Drake better watch out!
She laughed. What the heck. I’ll have fun with it.
I hope so, he wrote. We can trade notes. Meanwhile, we have a read-through tomorrow at 8 a.m.
Okay, she texted.
And then told herself, No more texting Hank! Although that little exchange had been necessary, right? Maybe she shouldn’t have said she’d have fun with it. But it had been something she’d have said to anyone.
How about the “trading notes” part?
Well, they were going to be professionals on the same movie set. There was nothing particularly personal about saying they could exchange helpful information about how to deal with Samantha Drake.
She had to report back to the girls. Starting tomorrow, her schedule at Two Love Lane would need tweaking the rest of the week.
“You’re what?” Greer’s gorgeous eyes flew wide.
“Going to be in a movie with Samantha Drake,” Ella said. “It’s a small speaking role, but who cares? It’s on my bucket list. I’ll exchange lines with a Hollywood icon. So for this week, could you guys help me out here? I’m sorry I didn’t give you any notice.”
“We don’t need notice,” said Macy, clapping her hands. “Of course we’ll help you. Maybe this will be your big break.”
Ella’s eyes almost—almost—filled with tears. Papa had always used that phrase: her big break. He’d so wanted it to happen. Every time she thought of Papa and her acting dreams, she thought about their annual trips to Serendipity 3, which were some of the happiest memories of her childhood and youth.
She missed him so much.
“Maybe this will be my big break.” She never wanted to give up being a matchmaker, but now …
Now maybe she could become a ginormous star and Papa would look down from Heaven and see she’d finally done it. She could become Samantha Drake’s best friend, and Samantha would see her talent, and—
And—
Ella could become as big a star as Hank, and then she’d show him!
And make Papa happy. The nonnas too. They’d love to see her become a big star.
Ambition filled her, ambition she’d forgotten so long ago.
It came roaring back.
But you love being a matchmaker, an inner voice reminded her.
Yes, she did. In fact, she could do both! She could be a big star and be a matchmaker. Maybe part-time. From Hollywood. With occasional trips to Charleston, maybe once a month. Although that might be kind of hard to do if she was making movies.
None of which she’d star in opposite Hank. She would turn down all those scripts.
She had it all figured out within seconds in her head.
This movie was her second chance.
And then she remembered she was only in three scenes and had only a few lines, and she’d be with the cast and crew four days—hardly long enough for Samantha to catch on to her star quality.
But a girl could dream, couldn’t she? A girl could hope that a few days shy of a week could change everything!
“When did you audition?” Greer asked.
Here was the hard part. “I didn’t.” At everyone’s baffled look, she blinked—and then told herself to simply spit it out. “Hank got me the part, sight unseen. He’s replacing Frampton Cooke.”
“He is?” all three women said at the same time.
Ella nodded. “Frampton’s wife is pregnant and having some complications—triplets, as a matter of fact—so he’s leaving immediately.”
“My land!” exclaimed Miss Thing.
“So Hank is on board now,” Ella said, “starring opposite Samantha.”
“He’s here in Charleston?” asked Greer. “Right now?”
“Yes. He told me he’d be glad to get me a minor speaking role, one where I trade a few lines with Samantha. Apparently, the actor they’d already hired for this part also left the movie. I’m happy to fill in.”
“I should say so,” said Greer.
“Wow, just wow!” Macy added. “I can’t believe Hank is here and that this movie stuff is really happening.”
Miss Thing waved a hand in front of her face, her standard move when she was overcome with emotion. “Honey, it all sounds wonderful, but back up. What’s this about Hank Rogers being glad to get you a role? Did he offer you this in the note he left with the flowers in your dressing room Saturday night?”
“Your dressing room?” Greer exclaimed. “He was here? He went to the play?”
“No,” Ella said, “he was in New York at the time.”
“Have y’all been in touch?” asked Macy.
“No.” Ella explained how Hank had wanted a favor—for her to meet Pammy. “But there’s been a development. He’s here now.”
Greer and Macy exchanged glances. And then they both looked at Miss Thing.
“I can see you!” Ella exclaimed. “Don’t make those secret faces in front of me! Nothing has happened. And nothing will happen.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “He’s only here until Saturday.”
“Whatever,” said Macy, sounding bemused.
Miss Thing giggled.
Greer shot Ella a sympathetic look.
Ella let out a gusty sigh. “You have to understand. There is no going back. None. Nada. The night I thought he was going to propose—”
“He forgot it was your birthday and came home with two hoagies in a white paper bag from his favorite deli,” said Miss Thing.
“Exactly,” said Ella.
“And then he told you he was getting a movie in Hawaii. A big one,” said Macy.
Ella made a flourish with her hand. “And?”
“And you had just secretly turned down a major acting opportunity,” said Greer, “because he was so depressed about how his career was going nowhere, and you thought it might crush him for you to accept the role and go away for five months’ filming in Australia.”
Ella sank into a chair. “And then what?” she whispered.
Miss Thing knelt next to her and took her hand. “And you two broke up. On your birthday, of all days. It was the practical thing, you told him, considering he was going to be g
one the next three months. But then you confessed you thought you’d be getting engaged that night, and breaking up was about more than being practical. You’d been ready to commit to him, heart and soul. You told him about the role in Australia that you had turned down. For him. Because he needed you.”
“And he said you never should have done that,” Greer continued. “He felt terrible about it, but he also reminded you that you’d both vowed you wouldn’t commit to each other, that you’d focus instead on creating trajectories toward successful careers. He said you were both well on your way, that your movie offers proved it.”
Ella laughed. “He hadn’t been so confident in his prospects the night before my birthday. All it took was getting that Hawaii movie, and he bounced back.”
“Isn’t that always the way?” Miss Thing tut-tutted. “We let our fears rule us.”
“Remind me what else happened,” Ella said, and tried to forget that even when Hank was at his lowest about his own acting future, he’d never wavered about hers. He’s always told her he knew it would be bright.
“That movie role you turned down,” Macy said, “the actress who took the supporting role you were offered now has a huge career. The movie won four Oscars.”
“Yeah,” Ella whispered. “It was a really great script.” She looked around at all of them, feeling like she was coming out of her little trance of self-pity. “Hank was smart to take the role he did. It led to other great supporting roles, and then he broke out two years later and became a megastar on his own.”
“Right,” said Greer. “That movie in Hawaii started it all, his path to fame and fortune.”
“So I’m glad he did it,” said Ella. “Even though at the time, it was weird and painful. He forgot my birthday. He’d never even contemplated getting me a ring. And the next day, he was gone.”
No one said anything.
All these years later, Ella cried softly, just a few tears rolling down her cheeks. It was sad, that was why. It was plain sad. And it had been years since she’d thought about it in any sort of detail. Those details made a heck of a story, and they still caused her pain.
Her three best friends rubbed her shoulders, murmured words of comfort.
“I’m okay,” she said after a few seconds of TLC, and stood. “But I’m glad we talked about it. It’s good to be reminded.”
“We have your back, always,” said Macy.
She knew they did. “So now I have to tell you what else is going on.” And she told them about Hank living with Pammy—and that she was too.
This time her best friends didn’t exchange any half-amused, half-worried looks with one another. They nodded seriously and kept their eyes on Ella.
“You sure you can handle that?” asked Greer. “Living with him for the rest of the week?”
Ella shook her head. “I know I’m taking chances here. But Samantha Drake!”
They all agreed—working with Samantha Drake would be awesome.
“Let’s get really real,” Macy said. “Surely some of this is about Hank, not just the movie role. Or helping Pammy.”
“It might be,” Ella admitted. “Maybe I need more resolution, you know? I never got it, although it sure felt final to me at the time. It would feel great to be able to walk away after this week with no more regrets about my past.”
“Peace would be nice,” said Greer.
“It would,” said Ella. “Hank said something similar, that he wants resolution too. In fact, he said that’s the main reason he came here. Not for the movie. Not for Pammy. But for me.”
All three friends got in a tizzy about that. The tizzy lasted at least five minutes.
Miss Thing even cried. “Happy tears,” she said, and pulled out a lace handkerchief.
“No, no, no,” said Ella sternly. “No crying. He said that, but he didn’t mean he wants to get back together. It only means he feels the same way, that it was such an abrupt way to end our relationship, and it would mean a lot to him to be able to tie up some loose ends. If that’s even possible in a week.”
“Got it,” said Greer.
“It’s still gratifying, isn’t it?” asked Macy. “That he’s not done. He came to work things out with you.”
“It’s about time,” said Ella. “Well past time.”
Macy, Greer, and Miss Thing agreed, although Miss Thing could not stop saying that sometimes resolving things involved sex. “Hanky-panky,” she explained further because she never got tired of talking about sex. “With Hank.” She waggled her finely plucked eyebrows.
“Not this time,” said Ella, refusing to smile.
Miss Thing’s disappointment was palpable. “Are you sure?”
“Very sure,” said Ella, and immediately regretted it. Her papa used to warn her to never say never about anything—because it would come back to haunt you. “Helping Pammy adjust to Charleston and acting in the movie are my main focus. Resolution with Hank is just gravy, if it happens at all. I’m putting no expectations on anything.”
“All right, sweetie,” Miss Thing said, but Ella knew she had her secret hopes.
Still, Ella was thrilled everyone at Two Love Lane was in the know. She’d made it clear to them that she and Hank would have a professional, courteous relationship and might perhaps, if they were lucky, find some level of accord about their shared past.
Later, she’d call Mama and the nonnas and tell them about the movie. Better yet, she’d stop in to say hi and see their reactions in person. The nonnas and Mama all loved Samantha Drake.
It was so awesome working with your best friends. She exchanged hugs with them, and then each of them went on with their day at the office. Ella had two lengthy appointments with new clients and lots of online work, especially research. She was always trying to find good dates for the patrons of Two Love Lane.
At four-thirty, she cut out to pay a visit to Harris Teeter. Wine and pimento cheese, she kept telling herself to block out the memory of Miss Thing saying that sex was sometimes involved when old lovers came to a resolution.
That was an outrageous notion, and so typical of Miss Thing to say! She loved shocking “her girls,” as she called them.
But Ella couldn’t get the words out of her head. All the way back to the carriage house, they kept coming, keeping time with her steps: hanky-panky with Hank, hanky-panky with Hank …
CHAPTER NINE
On their first day as roommates, Hank and Pammy played English rummy at a beat-up mahogany table with the initials BW+LC scratched into the surface: Beau Wilder and Lacey Clark, two lovebirds with Hollywood roots whose marriage was working beautifully. The table was in the corner of the cozy living room of the carriage house. Pammy was winning. Hank never had luck with cards. He was just picking up the ace of clubs he desperately needed, astounded that the tide was turning in his favor, when Ella yelled from the front door, “Yoo-hoo! I’m home!” like Lucy calling to Desi.
Hank’s heart leaped. He was embarrassed about that, but yeah, Ella had always been like a rainbow appearing in his sky, which was filled with too many squawking birds, gathering storm clouds, some occasional rain, which switched off to a glaring sun, and loud jets. And maybe some mild pollution from a nearby factory. Only one person had ever been the rainbow.
He saw her through the door panes carrying a paper sack bursting with stuff, including a French baguette sticking out of the top, just like in the movies. No plastic grocery bags in sight. He had no doubt it was because she was still worried about the seagulls. She’d always been worried about the seagulls when they were together.
He stood up and threw the door open, maybe a little too forcefully. “Let me get that for you,” he said about the bag, but she maneuvered around him, bumping him with her purse, never once looking him in the eye.
“Oh, no,” she said, “I’ve got it.”
“Food!” Pammy cried, as if she’d been on a desert island for the past ten years, living solely on coconuts.
Ella hurried into the tiny kitchen.
Hank strode after her, slowly, willing himself to stay chill and not come across as heavy-handed in any way. He let her pull things out of the bag and start putting them away before he said, “I hope you had a nice day at work.”
Her head was in the fridge. “Oh, yeah!” she called out to him, and was busy opening veggie bins and putting yogurt, cheese, milk, and oranges on her shelf. Her shelf. She’d made it clear they’d have boundaries, some of which might be trivial, but she was making her point. As always. More power to her.
He waited for her to reappear.
Meanwhile, Pammy showed up. “You have a very nice rear end,” she said to Ella.
Ella stilled.
Hank had noticed Ella’s spectacular posterior too, but was trying hard to focus on more cerebral things, like how to get her to speak to him.
“You must work out,” Pammy went on.
“No, not lately,” Ella said from the depths of the fridge.
“Not that I’m into girls,” said Pammy. “But I appreciate the human body. Whoever’s body it is, you know?”
“Thanks,” Ella said, her voice muffled by refrigerator insulation and the giant, unbound head of lettuce she was trying to stuff into the veggie bin. Maybe it was kale. Hank wouldn’t know. It was so fresh and nutritious-looking, it scared him.
Finally, Ella reappeared, and he made eye contact with her. It warmed him all over. Then she turned to Pammy, and he felt cold and left out.
“You can have any of my stuff,” she said, looking back and forth between them, which he appreciated. “I mean, I put it on my shelf, the bottom one, but I’m okay with sharing. Please. Take whatever you want. I only put it there so I can remember what I bought. Otherwise, things get lost behind pickle and mayo jars, and then it goes bad. I hate wasting food.”
“I get it,” said Pammy. “But you won’t be here that long. Only a week.”
“I know.” Ella looked at Hank. “And you’re here only a week too.”
“Right.” The thought depressed him.
“I never have food-wasting problems since I pretty much just eat Taco Bell and cereal,” Pammy said. “How about you, Hank?”
Second Chance At Two Love Lane Page 8