Read Online Angels All Over Town by Luanne Rice - Free Book Online Page B

more reserve than he would like. But basically he thought I was fine. Chance, dressed in khaki pants, a peach silk shirt, and a golden chamois leather jacket, leaned against one of the huge cameras. “I beg to differ, Arthur,” he said. “She is perfect. Quiet, shy. Perfect. And she comes to us via Juilliard. She will be a feather in our cap.”
    I beamed proudly. Stuart MacDuff stood beside me until Chance handed me the contracts. Then he kissed my cheek and walked away. My starting salary seemed immense. Chance promised there would be better scripts as soon as they could lure a certain writer away from a competing show. I thought of hiring a lawyer, of showing the contracts to my father, but excitement prevented me. I signed on the spot. I would start two weeks later, leaving me just enough time to withdraw from Juilliard and inform my family.
    That was seven years ago. Now I sat before my dressing-room mirror, made up for the wilds of Lake Huron, and prepared to film my scene with the fur trapper. As far as Delilah was concerned, I perceived no vast difference between a psychotic fur trapper and a white slaver; my character’s character had not changed as much as I had hoped it would. Chance had hired several new scriptwriters who were periodically replaced by other new scriptwriters. The truth, which I hadn’t wanted to face in my wide-eyed days, when I had hoped to revolutionize daytime drama, was that soap operas had to be formulaic. The audience liked them that way. Tears, love, and angst. “Make them laugh, make them cry, and make them wait,” the most famous writer in the business had professed.
    Art was having some trouble getting the lighting exactly the way he wanted it. One of the stagehands told me there would be a fifteen-minute delay. I did what I always did during delays: I called Lily and Margo in Providence.
    Margo answered. As soon as she heard my voice she called for Lily to pick up the extension.
    “Baby, baby, baby, have I got news for you!” Lily said.
    “She’s in love,” Margo said drolly.
    “Oh, you miss Bruno?” I asked.
    “No, he’s gone forever. I’ve faced that. This is someone new—a
New Yorker
.”
    “Really? Tell all.”
    “He’s a man of medicine,” Margo said. “Our Lily’s going to marry a doctor.”
    “No one said anything about
marrying
,” Lily said.
    “But you’re seeing quite a bit of him,” Margo said.
    “Tell me! I only have a few minutes,” I said. I could hear Art making happy, satisfied grunts in the studio, and I knew he’d call for me soon.
    “Okay. He’s forty. He’s a heart surgeon at New York Hospital, and he’s giving a seminar here in Providence.”
    “A heart surgeon,” Margo said gravely.
    “Also, he loves art, especially cinquecento! I met him in Professor Bachman’s office—they’re close friends.”
    “What’s his name?”
    “Henk Voorhees. He’s Dutch.”
    “You should hear him,” Margo said. “He’s always scoffing at everything. He looks at our white paper towels and says ‘Eh, you should get a color.’”
    “He’s forty?” I asked.
    “Yes, but a very young forty,” Lily said.
    “Married?”
    “No, divorced.”
    “His ex-wife lives in The Hague,” Margo said.
    “Well, it sounds interesting. When did you meet him?”
    “Just last Thursday. He’s in Rhode Island for another week, and then it’s back to New York.”
    “Do you think you’ll visit him sometime? I’d love to meet him.”
    “Definitely.”
    “She took him to Newport, and they had brunch at the Candy Store,” Margo said. We all laughed, thinking of the secrets about Lily known by the Candy Store waiters, of the things Henk could have learned if he’d known whom to ask.
    “So, our Lily’s living dangerously,” I said just before Art rang the bell in my dressing room, indicating that I was wanted in the studio. We said goodbye, and I hung up smiling. Perhaps Lily wouldn’t go to London after all. My secret wish was that all three of