“I lived here before. Well, not exactlyhere, in a different parish, but close enough from here. I moved away for college. I came back about four years ago.”
“Where did you move?”
“New York. Brooklyn, technically. I got a job in Manhattan out of school. I missed it here, though. I like the quiet life, I guess.”
“New York is noisy, I’ve heard.”
“You’ve never been?”
“Let’s skip this next section.” The third woman sighed. “Actually, let’s take a break while I read through this again. I think I want you to read something else for me.”
“No problem,” the woman who might play Bray said.
“Break for thirty. It’s dinner, anyway.”
“Great. I’m starving.”
Dana stood outside the door like an idiot, holding someone’s food, and that someone was about to walk out and ask why she was just standing there. She decided to knock instead and pretend like she’d just arrived.
“Come in.”
Dana pushed the door open the rest of the way and walked in.
“I have Miss Barber’s dinner,” she said.
In the room, she saw a table with two women sitting behind it and another woman standing next to Samara Barber in front of them. Samara was gorgeous. Of course, Dana knew that already; she had seen her movies. Still, a lot of celebrities weren’t as perfect close up, but this womanwas. She looked to be every bit the all-American girl with her blonde hair, blue eyes, and symmetrical facial features as she stood tall beside her possible co-star, which still confused Dana because the woman playing Bray had already been cast a while ago, or they wouldn’t be here, ready to film.
“Thank God,” Samara said. “I skipped lunch.”
Dana wanted to say something about how that had been Samara’s choice becauseshehad left her perfectly good meal in the cold refrigerator, but she held it in, and as Samara approached, she handed her the container.
“Any silverware?”
“Oh, no,” Dana replied. “I was going to bring it to your trailer, but they said you were here.”
“No drink, either?”
“No. As I said just a second ago, I was going to bring it to your trailer, where, I’m sure, you have drinks.”
“Yes, well, you didn’t do that, obviously. And I know you can get into my trailer because you put that lukewarm salad in my fridge. Why didn’t you get me any silverware and a sparkling water when you came this way?”
Dana so wanted to say something to this woman, along the lines of, ‘Bless your heart,’ her favorite Southern expression that didn’t really mean any kind of blessing.
“I hurried over here because I didn’t want your food to get cold, Miss Barber. I was told in my instructions that it was important.”
Samara touched the container before she opened the top, looked down inside, and shook her head.
“It’s not hot.”
“It nearly burned off my hand getting it here.”
“Well, it’s not hot enough. Take it back and remake it.”
“Remake it? I can heat it up for you, or you could do it yourself. There’s a microwave in your trailer, isn’t there?”
“I’m sorry. Whoareyou? Are you a PA? Why can’t you just do as I ask and remake this?”
“Why would I waste the food when it can be reheated?”
