“They can’t be real,” I said.
She studied the clasp. “It’s by Clapard. Of course they’re real. Damn!”
“Oh,” I said, unsure if that made the whole stealing thing better or worse.
Marnie grimaced but not at me. She was staring into the distance.
“I have to go,” she said.
She glanced in that direction once more, then rushed the opposite way, a look of panic on her face. The only person I recognized was Odetta Olson, who’d just stepped onto the yacht. I wasn’t ready for her yet.
Instead, I tried to clasp the necklace around my neck, but the mechanism was complex and I couldn’t get it to latch. After a few attempts, my fingers were cramping and I was quietly grunting to myself.
“Need help?” A man said from behind me.
The voice should have sounded familiar, but the music and the breeze muffled everything.
“Yes, please,” I called out behind me.
The man struggled with the clasp for a while, his warm breath tickling the back of my neck.
“There,” he said in evident relief when it was securely attached.
“Thank you so much!”
I turned around to face him.
His face fell.
Mine too.
It was Marshall Wild, the producer I’d (allegedly, but also for real) yelled at that first night.
His displeasure at seeing me crunched up his face. He glanced sideways, already looking for an exit strategy.
“Wait!” I said. “I’m glad to see you. I understand ifyou’renot glad to see me, but I have to say I’m sorry. What happened that first night was one big misunderstanding. I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”
His features softened a little. “Okay.”
“Let me explain. I had a small part in the movie, and I didn’t know I’d been cut.”
“Oh.”
“I thought this was going to be my big breakthrough, and now…”
“It’s a tough business,” he said, pensive. “Made tougher when you work with such creative geniuses. They have strong opinions about everything.”
“Yes, well. I’ve heard a lot about Odetta Olson’s ways.”
He looked around, making sure no one was eavesdropping.
“She can be challenging to work with,” Marshall agreed. “Though we can’t blame her for this.”
“Can’t we?” I said with a dry laugh.
He winced. “I’m sorry. I know how hard it can be for young talent who need that visibility.”
He sounded so sincere, I almost wanted to cry. “Thank you, that means a lot.”
