Groaning, he turned his head.
He shouldn't do this.
He couldn't.
Wouldn't.
Did.
Chapter 8
Sitting in Marsha's chair frightened Aurora. She'd looked at the studio from the guest chairs but never from this angle, knowing that her face would be posted on the gigantic screen, going into millions of homes. Fear of failing tinged her consciousness each time she saw the red light on the camera Duncan operated.
Despite him telling her these interviews might never be aired, she knew better. She'd seen the schedule for the next several days. One Hollywood idol had a new movie being released next month. He was coming to plug the movie. Then there was a show on breast cancer, in which several women would tell their personal stories and urge women to perform self examinations and have regular mammograms.
"You're too stiff, Aurora," Duncan said, critiquing her practiced interviewing technique. She'd been trying to run through a mock interview, keep her eyes on the person she was talking to, who was Joyce, and remember the questions Duncan had given her to ask. All while Duncan recorded her on video.
They'd run through it seven times and she was still too stiff and too nervous. She wasn't sure her stiffness didn't have something to do with him kissing her earlier. Then she hadn't been stiff at all. Her body had had no more consistency than a bowl of oatmeal. Her legs were rubbery and her heart pummeled against her ribs in an effort to burst through her chest. Her feet had dug into the plush carpet seeking support. Duncan's arms were the only thing which kept her from falling.
She'd been trying to forget that kiss and concentrate on the interview but she couldn't. Each time she looked at him she remembered his mouth on hers and weakness assaulted her.
"Why don't you tell us how you prepared for the role of—"Her mind went blank. What was the name of the character he was preparing for? "I'm sorry." She looked at Duncan.
Duncan sighed. "Joyce, you'd better go home. I'll stand in."
Joyce smiled and whispers, “Relax, you’ll do fine.” Then she left them.
The studio seemed awfully bright in the places where she sat. Aurora could hardly see the audience seats. She squinted against the harsh lighting.
Duncan took the seat Joyce vacated. "I don't want you to pretend any longer, Aurora."
She relaxed and leaned back in the chair.
"I don't want you to pretend you're Marsha Chambers." He paused and leaned back. "Be Aurora Alexander."
Aurora threw the script he'd given her across the set. It landed on the top step leading to the stage area. Sitting forward in her chair, she realized that looking at tapes of the previous shows had rubbed off on her. She was trying to do what Marsha did, and Duncan had seen it. She wasn't Marsha. Being herself was better than trying to imitate someone else—she would come across as more genuine. She remembered her interviews with battered women and runaway children. They had talked to her because she'd shown she cared about them. Maybe it would be the same here.
Duncan lounged in the chair positioned to her right. His head lay back and she couldn't see his face. His body said he was tired. Aurora saw the light on the camera and knew it was still recording.
"Why did you become a producer?" she asked softly, sincerely.
He didn't raise his head, just began talking. "I didn't start out being a producer. I worked for a small television affiliate in Seattle. It was the kind of place where you did what needed to be done, regardless of your title."
His voice was tired. He spoke from the heart. Aurora could hear it
"After about a year one of the local news anchors got tapped for a national job. The staff threw him a going away party at a nearby bar. The party broke up and three guys piled into a cab to go home. The cab was involved in an accident and the news producer at the station was killed. The next day I was producing the news."
He'd spoken with such poignancy that Aurora wanted to cry. She reminded herself she was the interviewer.
"How long did you stay there?"
"Two years as producers, three in total. Then I went to New York and produced a soap."
Aurora knew he'd worked on Greenwood. The show was a fledgling when he took over. It turned around, rose in the charts, and was still one of the top rated daytime dramas.
"Greenwood wasn't doing very well rating-wise when you took on the job. Of course, we know where it is today. Why did you leave an Emmy winning news program to play doctor to a soap?"
Duncan lifted his head and looked at her. She wasn't holding any papers and had no planned questions, but she was interviewing him, probing more of his life than he thought she knew. Sitting up straight, he looked at her. Something about the look in her eyes made him want to answer. She looked genuinely interested. He wanted to tell her. It wasn't a secret, but he wasn't used to talking about himself.
"From New York you returned to the West Coast," she stated.
"I went to Los Angeles. I had the idea of working on blockbuster movies, but again I got offered a job in television and I was back to producing." He could have stopped there. Why didn't he? "I worked on a sitcom. The show was plagued by problems from day one. The actors couldn't work together, the set wasn't comfortable, the writers were poor."
"None of this was known to the public. Lost in Lave went on for several seasons. All the actors are making it big time."
He nodded.
'”When it went off the air you signed on to this show.''
"It wasn't this show. That came a few months later. But I've been here ever since."
"Are you ready to move on?"
The question was so perceptive that Duncan wondered if she hadn't heard the rumors.
"Have you been listening at keyholes?" He grinned.
"There is talk that your time here is limited, and that you have at least two very hot irons in the fire in Los Angeles."
He looked at her but didn't say anything.
"Wouldn't you care to comment, dispel the rumors, put the tongue-wagers to rest?" She smiled warmly, naturally.
Somehow he felt he needed to answer her. She was a natural at interviewing. She made him feel that he was sitting in an intimate living room before a roaring fire with a glass of warm brandy, not on the set of a program that went into twenty millions homes each day. He felt that if he answered her only the two of them would know. Duncan knew he'd been right in choosing her to stand in. When Marsha saw these she'd get up from a deathbed to protect her interests.
"The truth is, I am working on a Hollywood connection. I don't care to comment on what the projects are. Let's just say they're big."
"And plural," she said grabbing the word. "As in more than one?"
Duncan remained silent. Then Aurora took another tack. She began asking him about his childhood, his parents. He answered all her questions, even the tough ones.
"So you and Cooper Dean ran a gambling operation at the age of twelve?"
"We were both headed for a life of crime."
"You don't look the criminal type. I see more of a Philadelphia lawyer in you. What turned you around?"
Duncan checked his clothes. He didn't go for jeans and T-shirts on the job. He met with many people coming in the studio. Even though it was television, people expected him to dress as a businessman. And he did. He'd pulled his tie loose and discarded his jacket, but the implication of a suit was still present. "Coop took a bullet in the shoulder one night as we ran from gang members who said we were working their turf. We gave it up then and there."
"And they let you?"
Duncan heard the amazement in her voice, watched her eyes widen. He knew how gangs worked. If they wanted you dead, you were dead. "My parents packed us both off to spend the summer on a farm. We were worked so hard there we had no time to do anything like getting in trouble."
"You did have time to talk, however."
God, she was good, he thought. "We talked most nights." He laughed, remembering the dark bedroom he and Coop had slept in. "
We talked about what we'd do when we got back, what we would be when we grew up, but mostly we talked about home."
"You were homesick?"
"Not in the way most people are. We talked about our parents. About whether they had made a success of their lives. We were twelve, remember, and your parents are way over the hill when you're twelve."
Aurora bowed her head and gave him her direct attention. She kept the interview on keel, not allowing him to divert it to another subject. She was going to be wonderful. He was sure of it.
"What did you decide?"
"We decided that Mr. Woodford was a success."
Her eyebrows went up.
"Mr. Woodford owned the farm. He struggled with Mother Nature every day of his life. He took two city boys onto his farm and tried to teach them the meaning of life. It got through. And so he was a success."
Duncan went to see Mr. Woodford every chance he got. He always learned something new, and he enjoyed getting his hands in the earth and coaxing the land to give him what he wanted. "You gotta love the land," Mr. Woodford had told him. He could still hear the rough way his voice sounded when he talked. The more he believed in something the rougher his tone. To this day he still took city boys in for the summer. Duncan couldn't help but believe they left better than they arrived. He wondered how many kids had turned their lives around because of Mr. Woodford. He was a man who quietly taught them that the integrity of doing something and doing it well was the best use of their lives, whether they chose to be garbage men or company presidents.
"And your parents?" Aurora brought him back. "Do you consider them a success?"
Duncan leaned against the soft cushions of the chair. "My father once said, 'I can't protect you from the world. You're going to have to make your own decisions and your own choices. Some of those choices will be the right ones and some won't, but in the entire scheme of things, let's hope you have more right ones than wrong.' " Duncan's throat was tight. “My father was a success."
***
Is he out there? Aurora wondered with a shudder. He didn't know Marsha wasn't here. Would he do anything in the studio? He'd tried to kidnap her in broad daylight. Was he bold enough to make another attempt? Aurora's skin tingled, telling her she was scared.
The audience had taken seats. She could hear the excitement created by a room full of people. Her stomach lurched. She swayed between throwing up from fright and the excitement of being on stage. There was as much electricity in the air as was supplying the cameras. Tourists from all over the U.S. were out there. They could return home and tell stories of how they'd seen the show live. They were the safe ones. What about the man who was looking for her? Looking for Marsha, she corrected. Was he out there? Had he passed through the gates and entered the studio like any other guest?
She heard the associate producer playing crowd pleaser. He told jokes, making the audience laugh. His job was to get them ready for the show, have them in a good frame of mind before she took her seat.
The music began and the audience, prompted by overhead applause signs and the producer's gestures, made a noise as the voice of the announcer introduced The Marsha Chambers Show. Then a second voice came over the studio. She recognized it as Duncan's. Sitting in for the vacationing Marsha Chambers is this week's co-hostess, Rory Alexander.
Aurora put a hand to her stomach and took a deep breath. She had no choice now but to step into the light. One more second, she thought then entered with a smile. Duncan had called her Rory. It unnerved her to hear the family name over the loudspeaker. Seeing it painted across the large monitor arrested her attention. She smiled, thinking how wonderful it looked in huge purple letters.
The teleprompter rolled in front of her. She swallowed her fear and began to read the memorized greeting. At the end of the first applause segment, she introduced herself.
"You're all probably wondering why I was chosen to take Marsha Chambers's place while she's away. Here's one reason."
She looked at the monitor. From the center of the blank screen Marsha Chambers appeared. The film of the previous show rolled. "And now, my own personal look-alike." The monitor showed Aurora stepping onto the stage to wide applause. The film froze on her face and the engineer in the control room split the screen and placed Marsha's picture next to Aurora's. "See the resemblance?"
The audience applauded. She scanned them, looking for disapproval. She saw none. There were wide smiles and happy grins. Aurora relaxed. They weren't going to stone her. If she interviewed well, everything would be fine. The guest today was a movie star, one of her idols. If she didn't trip over her tongue everything would go fine. Still, she mentally crossed her fingers.
"We're going to get right to our guest today. You all know him." She didn't even get to finish the introduction before the audience went wild. "He's one of my idols, too, and I've only just met him in the green room a moment ago." She was barely able to continue over the noise. Aurora decided to change the programmed intro. "I suppose he needs no further introduction. Ladies and gentlemen, meet the Academy Award winning star of Training Day and such movies as Unstoppable, The Pelican Brief, Philadelphia, and the incomparable Glory." She waited for the screaming to die down but she didn't think it would. "Denzel Washington!" she screamed over the mayhem.
Aurora knew a lot of the applause would have to be edited out of this interview. When she could speak they both took seats in front of the audience. She asked some of the questions which had been prepared for her and some she wanted to know the answers to, and then they went to the audience. The program took on a whole new aspect when she included audience questions. They were serious, funny, even risqué at points. She was having a good time. She'd completely forgotten that the stalker could be a member of the audience, forgotten how she'd fought against going in front of the cameras, forgotten Marsha Chambers's insults. The only thing she didn't forget was Duncan standing on the fringe of the audience and overseeing everything.
She didn't forget her interview with him. Duncan was leaving soon. He had huge projects going on in Hollywood, and he had no ties, nothing to keep him in New Jersey. The world of big screen features was on the coast, and when his plans came together—as they would and should—he'd be part of her past, not her present
Be careful, she cautioned her heart. Don't let him get too close. He's a knight, he comes to your rescue, but he's also chasing a dream, one he's had for a lifetime. Keep your head, and your heart won't get hurt.
***
This was good, he thought, leaving the studio with the other guests. It's exactly what he would have done. The old confuse-the-villain-plot. He nearly laughed out loud. Marsha Chambers was worth every one of those Emmys she picked up year after year. She was a talented actress. But she was making a mistake. She wasn't dealing with a fool.
She could say her name was Rory. She could even show footage of a previous show and the audience would eat it up. She could use any name she wanted. He knew about television, knew that a good engineer could put anything on the screen and people would believe it.
Well, he didn't believe it, not for one minute. She was Marsha Chambers. He'd bet his right arm on that. And even if she was some look-alike, that was just too bad, because she'd get what she deserved for trying to get in his way.
He had plans. Nobody got in his way.
***
Aurora was still on an emotional high when the last light in the studio went out. Adrenaline poured into her blood and kept her floating with excitement. She'd only stumbled over a couple of words, and they would be edited out. The audience had been friendly and Denzel had made her feel comfortable. She hoped each show would have this much excitement, this much electricity in its making.
"You look like someone who's just gone to her first ball," Duncan said, coming into the studio.
"I feel like it." She got up and pulled her coat on. They were going to get something to eat. Even with the dream kitchen in the guest house, Duncan said she shouldn't have to cook her own meal o
n her first night.
As he drove through the streets of Princeton toward the restaurant, she relived the show as if he hadn't been there and she needed to give him the play-by-play.
In the restaurant she was immediately greeted with the usual mistaken identity attention. This time she didn't correct the waiter. She felt too good tonight, and she wouldn't allow anything to spoil the feeling.
"So you liked it?" Duncan said after they were seated and Duncan had ordered champagne cocktails. He said a princess on the night of her first ball needed the bubbly. She didn't disagree.
"I admit you were right. Things went much better than I thought they would." She wondered how Marsha could possibly scorn the fun Aurora had had today. She didn't bother to ask.
"You know, Cinderella, every show doesn't have a Hollywood celebrity as the guest.”
Aurora nodded.
"We try to add variety."
"I know," she said.
"You'll be all right?"
"I'll be fine."
Aurora was sure of it. She had a lot of help on the stage. There was Duncan giving her signals from the side of the studio, the questions she had prepared, and the ones which came up on her own. She was more sure now than she'd been yesterday that next week would go all right.
She brought up the real hostess. "What about Marsha? Do you think she's heard about today?"
"I'm not sure. It hasn't been that long. When I spoke to Coop he told me she's been moved to a private location."
Mirror Image (Capitol Chronicles Book 4) Page 11