“The TV movies she did were very successful.”
“Well, I’m not saying that she doesn’t have a knack for hiring people whose work makes her look good.” Nancy held a hand up, miming a mirror. “And my direction can make just about anybody look good, don’t you think?”
“I just hope the network people think she’s got whatever knack they want,” Brett said. “Frankie Almond would be perfect for me just now.”
“Well, Cuddles, I daresay we could all use a top-ten show to beef up our résumés.”
“Not to mention our bank accounts.”
Nancy sighed deeply. “Oh, you’re not going to turn out to be one of those pretty boys who thinks with his checkbook, are you?”
But before Brett could answer, Grimm appeared. “Wine, Ms. Nancy?”
“What are these funny wineglasses, Grimm?”
“Ms. Victoria’s sister in Yorkshire runs a pottery and Ms. Victoria commissioned a special set of goblets for tonight’s event.”
“What’s this face on the side? A gargoyle?”
“I believe the significance is meant to be a little closer to home, Ms. Nancy.”
“Whatever. But I do prefer to see what I’m drinking, through glass. After all, wine comes in bottles. The people who make it ought to know.”
“Are you requesting to drink from the bottle, Ms. Nancy?”
“Please don’t be a smartass, Grimm.”
“Of course not, Ms. Nancy.” Grimm bowed in deference.
“Oh, don’t mind me. I’m just edgy. Victoria probably knew about Frankie Almond last week. It would be just like her to keep us all waiting, and guessing, for dramatic effect.”
“Her business is drama, Ms. Nancy,” Grimm said.
“Well, it’s mine too. That doesn’t mean I can’t separate what’s on screen from what’s off.”
“I’m sure Ms. Victoria will let everyone know as soon as she can, Ms. Nancy.”
“I’m glad you’re sure.”
But while this exchange was taking place, Brett’s attention was elsewhere. A new guest had entered the room by a door leading from the interior of the penthouse. Brett took Nancy’s elbow and whispered, “If you really believe that Victoria already knows, maybe Andrew will know, too. They’re together now, you know.”
The new arrival was Andrew Stark, the old old actor of perhaps forty and Victoria Nation’s current squeeze. He approached Brett and Nancy, although he was probably attracted more by Grimm’s drinks tray than the company.
Once Nancy was sure that Andrew was within hearing distance she said, “You know, Grimm, it wouldn’t surprise me in the least to learn that Victoria was making us wait on purpose. Everyone knows that she has a terrible sadistic side.”
But Grimm knew that Nancy’s remark was not, in fact, addressed to him.
So did Andrew. “Oh, very nice, Nancy,” Andrew said. “And you’re one to talk.”
“Do tell us, Andrew. What are you doing here tonight? Playing the part of the empress’s consort? Because if she’d had you serving the drinks as well, she could have gotten away with paying only one salary instead of two. And aren’t producers meant to have a grasp of basic economics?”
“You make a rattlesnake seem like a teddy bear,” Andrew said.
“And you’re sweet, too,” Nancy said. “But, compliments aside, you are about the last person I expected to see at the Fate of Frankie Almond event.”
“I don’t doubt that,” Andrew said, fixing Nancy with a hostile stare.
“I do so wish I could say it was a pleasant surprise to see your fading features. Mind you, I could say it if someone was paying my rent and buying my clothes. One can say so many unlikely things when you’re being paid. But being an actor, you know that perfectly well.”
“There’s a window over there, Nancy. Maybe it opens.”
“And charming with it. But I shall leave you with Brett. You boys have so much in common. You could swap notes. On technique, perhaps.” Nancy left the men together to study the sunset over the Hudson.
“Mirror, mirror on the wall,” Andrew said, “who’s the most viperous slut of all?”
“Stop,” Brett said. “Stop it. I don’t think that’s what she’s like. Not really. I know there’s a bit of a hard veneer, but—”
“Hello? Were you here just now or not?” Andrew shook his head. “Was I imagining her part in that conversation? Pure poison.”
“She just gets started and can’t help the way it comes out.”
Andrew stared at him.
“And she is a wonderful director.”
Andrew sucked his lips before saying, “She certainly manages to make you look good, I’ll say that for her.”
Brett was uncomfortable, so he fell back on the most reliable method of changing subjects, asking the person you’re with to talk about himself. “I haven’t seen you around for a while — not that I catch everything that’s going on out there. Have you been working?”
“Nothing to sink my fangs into.” The fangs remark was a reference to Andrew’s earliest and, to date, biggest success in a vampire series. But it was before Brett’s time and the younger man didn’t respond. Andrew said, “I’ve been working, but just bits and pieces. Small parts, a little understudying, some kids’ magic shows, and I do some dubbing now and then. Whatever I can find to keep the wolf from the door. And in between I do some writing.”
“In our business it is important to stay positive till our luck changes.”
“I’d say it’s important for us to make our own luck.”
Which provided Brett a good segue to say, “They... they tell me you’re with Victoria now.”
“In the sense that she finds half an hour for me now and again. Forty-five minutes on a good day — whatever seems to suit her schedule best. Sound familiar?”
Too familiar for Brett to remember calmly, because when he and Victoria were together he’d been sure she was the one. But he’d been less experienced then and less mature. He said, “I’m sure she’ll make more time for you when all this Frankie Almond stuff settles down.”
“Think so?”
“She must love your voice. And your eyes.”
Andrew gave Brett a puzzled look.
Moving rapidly on, Brett said, “So, has she said anything to you about whether Frankie Almond is going to be picked up?”
“Not a whisper. Nor a murmur. Not even a whit or a tittle.”
Worth a try, Brett thought. Then, impulsively, he leaned forward to make a confidential comment, man-to-man. “She didn’t just get us all here in order to leave us fretting all evening, did she? Maybe planning to show up in a few hours, after we’re all nervous wrecks? Because that strikes me as just the kind of thing that would appeal to her so-called sense of humor. As you’ll find out. If you haven’t already.”
“I... have learned quite a bit about what amuses Victoria.” Andrew was not smiling.
The men locked eyes. Sympathy passed between them. But only a jot, because at that moment the front door of the penthouse burst open. Victoria Nation swept in.
She was a sight to behold, grand in her manner, glamorous in gold garments, and looking half her chronological age, at least from a distance. How did she do it?