“Exactly. When you go shopping today, you’ll need to find a wig for Jenny. Meanwhile, why don’t you put your bathing suit back on. We’ll go take some photos with just sand and water.”
“So they could be Miami beach,” Skylar said, thinking out loud. “We should put you in a couple of them so I can black you out, as Jenny would be inclined to do with her ex.”
“Good thinking. Please pick me up a medium swimsuit while you’re shopping. We’ll do the beach shoot later.” The phone in my pocket vibrated as I spoke. I checked the screen while Skylar watched with raised brows.
“It’s an email from Lesley at the CIA.”
Skylar moved closer.
I opened the message and read. Is this him? A color photo showed a man wearing a foreign military uniform. It was the kind of photo you’d find in a government personnel folder. Posed and proud, looking directly at the camera.
“That’s him,” Skylar said. “About ten years ago, I’d guess.”
“You certainly can’t mistake those cheekbones.” I tapped REPLY and typed Yes.
45
Timing is Everything
ALLISON FELT RELIEVED as she returned home to Laguna Beach from the Immortals’ meeting. She knew that wasn’t the prevailing sentiment, far from it. Yes, the demise of her colleagues put fear in her heart and grief in her soul, but in her case a greater burden had been lifted. Such was the power of forgiveness.
She’d felt terrible about deceiving her team regarding her aspirations and her secret plan to fulfill it. Knowing that she now had David’s blessing clearly meant more than she would have guessed. She hadn’t realized how much the guilt was weighing her down until it evaporated under his forgiving gaze.
Now, she just had to make her acting breakthrough.
If only her agent would call.
Suddenly she realized that maybe he had. As per instructions, she’d left her personal cell at home so there wouldn’t be a GPS trail linking her to Seven Star Island. She unlocked the garage door and disarmed the alarm, then walked straight to the kitchen and plucked her cell from the charger.
Four messages.
All from her agent.
Rather than listen, she called him right back.
“Mr. Venit’s office.”
Rubbing her lucky star pendant with her left hand while holding the phone with her right, Allison said, “Jessica, it’s Olivia Valesco.” In her excitement, she’d almost said Allison DeAngelo. “I—”
“Adam’s expecting your call. I’ll put you right through.”
The hold was brief, but her heart still nearly pounded a hole in her chest. “Olivia. Your career’s not yet at the stage where playing hard to get is going to work in your favor.” Adam’s tone was jovial, but there was some bite in it.
“Apologies. I had to make an unexpected trip and forgot my cell. What’s going on?”
“You didn’t listen to my messages?”
“When I saw them I called right away.”
“You’ve got an audition for Aaron Sorkin’s latest film. He needs a last-minute replacement. His office called and specifically asked for you. Apparently, he saw you in Nobody’s Ghost.”
What a stroke of luck! Her namesake had been in a dozen plays in New York City. Nobody’s Ghost had achieved critical acclaim, although Olivia Valesco hadn’t been singled out. “What’s the role?”
“He wouldn’t say. That’s not unusual when things aren’t going according to plan. The important thing is that the reading is scheduled for 3 p.m. on set in Oceanside.”
“Today?”
“That’s why you’ve got so many messages. And why it’s so important to promptly return my calls.”
Allison looked at her watch. It was 1:15, and Oceanside was at least an hour away at this time of day. “I haven’t seen the script.”
“They’ll give it to you when you get there. The sooner you arrive, the more time you’ll have to prepare.”
“I’d better run then.”
“I’d suggest flying, if you happen to have a helicopter.”
Actually, she could easily afford one, but chose not to mention that to Adam. Instead, she headed back to her white Mercedes CLS. “Please text me the address.”
“Good luck.” Adam hung up.
Oceanside. That might mean a military movie. She wondered if Sorkin was shooting a follow-up to A Few Good Men. “Oh my God. I could be in a movie with Tom Cruise!”
She was decently dressed. Designer jeans with Jimmy Choos and an Alexander McQueen top. Knowing that someday she’d have the paparazzi to consider, she’d decided to build discipline and assume she might be photographed whenever she left the house.
She checked the vanity mirror. Her makeup definitely needed a touchup. She’d wait until she parked rather than risk doing a sloppy job at a traffic light.
As she merged onto Laguna Canyon Road, Allison dictated the texted address into her navigation system and waited eagerly while it calculated a 2:21 arrival. By the time she cleared security and found the casting director, she’d be lucky to have ten minutes with the script.
The math wasn’t difficult. Every minute she managed to move up her arrival would give her ten percent more time to learn her lines.
She made full use of her 577-horsepower engine, and began beating the clock one car length and yellow light at a time.
It probably wouldn’t be the sequel to A Few Good Men, she decided. Sorkin was into biographies lately. Mark Zuckerberg and Steve Jobs and Molly somebody. Why hadn’t she asked Adam? He’d probably mentioned it in one of his four messages.
The Honda Civic in front of her hit the brakes as she reached for her phone. She avoided its rear end by getting her own foot down in time, but lost her grip and sent her phone sliding between seat and center console. She wanted to scream. This wasn’t the first time her phone had fallen into that trap. The last time, she’d lost a nail attempting to retrieve it. With all the fancy options on her hundred-thousand-dollar car, you’d think they could eliminate that pesky gap!
She exhaled long and hard. This was no time to get agitated. At least she had the address plugged in.
Traffic lightened up a few minutes later as she cleared Dana Point. The arrival time now showed 2:18. “A thirty-percent improvement.” As Allison spoke the words, she found herself yawning.
Granted, it had been a long day, with the flight back from the East Coast, but wow. Suddenly she could hardly keep her eyes open. What was up with that?
Under normal circumstances, she’d pull over for a catnap. Or at the very least grab a double latte. But of course any delay was out of the question. She was about to audition for Aaron Sorkin! At his personal request! This was her pivotal moment. Her lucky break. Why was she so damn slee—
46
Remote Control
FELIX WAS ON THE SHOOTING RANGE when his watch began to vibrate, alerting him to a call from his special phone. The phone itself was right next to his pile of empty brass, which jumped and jingled as the phone buzzed. For a second, he considered ignoring it, but he knew it would nag him. The caller couldn’t leave a message, so he’d wonder.
Before answering, he promised himself that no matter what, he’d go through both boxes of 115-grain Winchester hollow points before leaving. Draw, double-tap, reholster. Draw, double-tap, reholster. Fifty cycles. He was out of practice, and this was no time to be slow on the draw.