Annelie's eyes narrowed when her glance fell on the other one, a collector's item. Little Women had played on Broadway eighteen years ago with a young Carolyn Black as Jo. Annelie had bought the poster at a charity auction five years ago. As much as she longed to do so, she refused to think about the woman she had so recently left behind in Orlando. Doing so would only bring her pain and confusion.
Her cherrywood desk was empty, but Annelie knew it would become cluttered with documents after the meeting. She welcomed the busy day ahead of her; hopefully it would take her mind off her disastrous weekend.
Chapter Nine
Carolyn stepped out of the cab in front of the large office building. When the security guard looked inquisitively at her as she signed her name and identified herself, Carolyn knew he probably recognized her but was reluctant to ask. She gave him her automatic diva smile before heading toward the elevators.
The mirror in the elevator didn't reveal how nervous she felt. Am I doing the right thing, barging in here like a wounded wildebeest? Will she toss me out and tell me to tear up my contracts? Or will she act like an ice goddess and freeze me out? I'm afraid I'm going to throw up, but this is the only way I know to get in touch with her. She's so damned private I'd never find her home address. Oh, to hell with it. Here goes nothing. I'll just have to play my charm to the hilt.
Large glass doors with Peterson & Associates, Attorneys at Law painted on them in gold letters led into a formal reception area. A dark-haired woman wearing ultramodern black glasses looked up as Carolyn approached the desk and gave her a welcoming smile. "Good afternoon, ma'am. How may I help you?" "I'd like to speak to Annelie Peterson. Is she in today?" The receptionist nodded. "Do you have an appointment, Ms.…?" "Black. Carolyn Black. No, I don't, but if you ask Annelie, I'm sure she'll see me. It won't take long."
"I'm sorry, Ms. Black. Ms. Peterson is in a meeting and can't be disturbed. If you can wait just a second, I'll page Ms. Dillon, Ms. Peterson's assistant."
Carolyn bit back an impatient reply and waited while the receptionist made a quick phone call.
"Ms. Dillon will be right with you, Ms. Black," the receptionist said. "Here she is already."
A slender middle-aged woman, dressed in a cobalt blue suit and high-heel pumps, approached. "Ms. Black, welcome," she greeted Carolyn, extending a hand. "What a pleasant surprise. We had no idea you were in town. I'm Margo Dillon."
Slightly taken aback by the other woman's energy, Carolyn shook her hand. "Hello, Ms. Dillon."
"Oh, call me Margo, please."
"Nice to meet you, Margo. I know I don't have an appointment, but…"
"Don't worry about it. I'm sure I can pry Annelie out of the conference room for a minute or two. Could you please come with me? And would you like something to drink?"
Having gone directly from the airport to her apartment to change, Carolyn hadn't bothered to eat. "I'd love some coffee. Black, please."
"Like the name, should be easy to remember." Margo chuckled. "Here's Annelie's office. Make yourself comfortable and I'll bring you some coffee and, hopefully, the woman herself."
Rushing off, the energetic woman left quite a void. Carolyn stepped into the corner office and looked around the room curiously. Ivory walls and peach and forest green furniture gave the room a feminine elegance. Dark peach drapes framed the large panoramic window overlooking Manhattan.
Several diplomas hung on the wall behind the desk, and a painting, which on closer examination proved to be an original, hung across the room. Carolyn had never heard of the painter, but the name Carl Larson sounded Scandinavian. This portrait of a woman holding a child, called "Idyllic Studio," soothed her. Turning around to sit down, Carolyn discovered two large posters. One was of a play she had actually seen a few years back, and the other…was of her. Or of her as Jo March, many years ago.
Not sure what to believe, Carolyn sat down on the couch only to rise again, feeling jittery. She scrutinized the empty desk, wondering if Annelie had already started working today.
Quick steps approached and Margo returned with a tray. The Spode china and Georgian silverware didn't surprise Carolyn. "Thank you," she managed. "Is she going to be long, do you think?"
"No, just give her a few minutes. Enjoy the coffee."
Margo smiled and left after pouring the black, steaming-hot beverage. Carolyn sat down again and sipped her coffee, comforted by the familiar, rejuvenating taste. Anticipating how the caffeine would enter her bloodstream, travel to her brain, and energize it, she finally began to calm down.
"Carolyn," a soft voice said from the doorway. Looking up, she had to force herself to carefully place the delicate coffee cup back on its saucer since her fingers had begun to tremble. "This is a surprise."
Annelie was dressed in a black pantsuit over a crisp white blouse. Silver-white pearls gleamed around her neck and in her earlobes, reflecting the light in an expensive, understated way. A larger pearl was attached to the jacket's left lapel. She wore a white gold watch on her left wrist, but no other jewelry on her hands.
This was another side of Annelie. Having become accustomed to seeing her only in casual clothes, Carolyn was awed as she looked at the professional vision before her. As she stood with her arms folded over her chest, her hair swept up in a tight twist without a strand out of place, Annelie looked untouchable.
"I need to talk to you, Annelie," Carolyn said, amazed at how calm she sounded. "I'm sorry to barge in here like this, but I didn't know how else to get in touch with you. I couldn't talk to you about this over the phone."
Annelie stepped inside and closed the door behind her. "You're right," she admitted. "We have to talk but not here, like this."
"I just flew in today. I went home to change and then came straight here. I…I just don't know what to think."
A slight frown marring her forehead, Annelie remained standing just inside the door. "I'd have thought you'd be paying a visit to your agent first, or hasn't he contacted you?"
"Grey? I talked to him when I was waiting for my flight in Miami. He told me about the contracts."
"I'm surprised you didn't go by and sign them right away."
Not sure if Annelie was being sarcastic, Carolyn recoiled. "I wanted to talk to you first. I'm amazed you're offering me the role. I've wanted it ever since the rumors about the movies started spreading. Now I'm all confused and—" She flung her hands into the air. "Damn it, Annie, I don't know what to think! You leave me behind with no explanation other than a note that makes me feel like…for heaven's sake—" She broke off again. "You're giving interviews talking about people auditioning for the role. What the hell's going on?"
Hearing her voice almost break, Carolyn forced herself to stop before she embarrassed herself further.
"I had important meetings here in New York," Annelie explained. "I can't talk now. I have to go back in there." She gestured vaguely behind her. "As for the media asking me questions at the airport yesterday—that was merely for the sake of appearances. Surely you realize that? We can't go public with who will star in the movies before the contracts are signed—and if you'd actually read the contracts before you came here, you would've seen we added a confidentiality clause. You won't be able to tell anyone you got the role until a certain date, when Supernova hosts a press conference with the director and the actors."