“Is Mr. Hayes even here?” I asked Cal as I joined him near the door.
He shrugged. “I haven’t seen him.”
I left the wardrobe and makeup building through a side door. My parents had built a large garden in the center of the studio complex with a man-made creek, a gazebo, and other features that were used in various movies. It was hemmed in by the surrounding buildings, which provided a buffer from the traffic noise.
“There she is.”
Two middle-aged men turned to me, but I didn’t recognize either of them. One held a camera and had his fedora tilted back on his head. The other was tall and impeccably dressed. His darkhair was combed perfectly, and his black shoes gleamed. He was the first to extend his hand to me.
“I’m Frank Fellbaum, the press secretary for MGM Studios. And this is Mr. Conrad Harrison, our photographer. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Bennett. I’ve seen several of your pictures.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” I shook their hands. “Is Mr. Hayes here?”
He cleared his throat and said, “Any minute. We thought it would be nice to stage a first meeting between the actor and actress who will be playing these iconic roles.” He motioned to Mr. Harrison. “Why don’t you scout out the garden and find a place for the two to meet?”
Mr. Harrison nodded and left us.
When he was out of earshot, Mr. Fellbaum said, “As far as the world is concerned, you two have never met. Mr. Mayer has appraised me of the situation, but outside of you, Spencer, and your parents, I’m the only other person who knows about the agreement. Mr. Mayer would like us to photograph you together as often as possible so the public can watch you fall in love and reform Spence.”
“Reform?” I lifted my eyebrows. “I wasn’t aware that I would be responsible for such an impossible task.”
Mr. Fellbaum laughed uncomfortably. “No one can reform Spencer Hayes, but the public doesn’t need to know that. It just needs toappearas if you’re reforming him.”
He held a folder under his arm and presented it to me now. “I have already brought the legal papers to your father. All we need now are yours and Spence’s signatures. You’ll see that I have a schedule for the two of you. Mr. Mayer would like you to spend a minimum of five evenings a week together, outside of filming, to attend social events and gatherings.”
“Five?”
“Just until filming ends,” he said quickly. “Some of those evenings can be spent quietly at home with your family. The photographerwill be there on at least one occasion to capture pictures of your family meals together as Spence gets to know your folks.”
I held up my hand to stop him. “I didn’t agree to any of this. We will be filming most evenings.”
“Then we’ll capture the pictures here. Mr. Mayer drew up the terms and conditions of the agreement last night. You’re more than welcome to look over everything, but he won’t budge on any of it.”
“This is too much.” I shook my head and handed the folder back. “I can’t agree to five nights a week.”
“Your father already signed because he was under the assumption that you had agreed to this arrangement.” Mr. Fellbaum took the folder. “Mr. Mayer is prepared to do what it takes to get what he wants.” His jaw tightened. “Which would include blackballing you in Hollywood if you don’t agree.”
My back stiffened at the threat, even though Mr. Mayer had already warned me. It didn’t really matter anyway. If Spencer didn’t play Laurie, we’d already be in a lot of trouble.
“There he is now.” Mr. Fellbaum nodded toward the parking lot.
Anger and frustration filled my heart as I turned to look at the man I was supposed to fall in love with, at least on paper. None of this was his fault, though I couldn’t help but hold it against him.
Especially when I noticed he was still wearing his wrinkled tuxedo from last night—and he looked like he was hungover.
I stormed into the executive office building, shaking my head, and went upstairs to Papa’s office. I didn’t even bother to knock before I pushed open the door with his name painted in gold letters.
Papa sat at his desk, looking over the script forLittle Women. He was going to direct the film, something he hadn’t done for years but was forced to do to save money.
“It doesn’t look like Spencer even went home last night!” Iplanted my feet and crossed my arms. “He’s wearing his tuxedo, and he reeks of stale alcohol.”
Closing his eyes briefly, Papa placed his hands on the desk and lifted himself off his leather chair. He had never looked older and more exhausted than he did in this moment. “Call him in here.”
“There’s no need. I told him to follow me.”
“Where is he now?”
“I don’t know. I wasn’t going to wait.” I paced to the other side of the office, needing to move. This film was our last chance. We couldn’t let a stranger ruin it for us.
