crazy?” she asked, pointing at the fuzzy caterpillar couch. “Look at that .”
Pandy immediately forgot all about her dress.
Lying facedown was a youngish man, tanned and shirtless, a flop of dark brown hair with blond roots brushing his shoulder. Pandy inhaled sharply.
“Doug Stone.” SondraBeth giggled. “Now there’s a guy who really knows how to live up to his name. On the other hand, he’s gorgeous, so who cares?”
Pandy took a step closer. “He’s so gorgeous, I can barely stand to look at him.” She sighed longingly.
SondraBeth cocked her head in surprise. “You certainly looked at him plenty last night.”
“I did?”
“You were making out with him. For, like, an hour. Don’t you remember?”
Pandy thought back through the hazy snippets she could recall. “No.”
“How could you forget a thing like that?” SondraBeth scolded. “In any case, I wouldn’t get too upset about it. He probably doesn’t remember, either.”
“Thanks a lot,” Pandy groaned. She took another look at Doug Stone and scratched her ear. “Do you think room service knows how to remove a body?”
SondraBeth laughed. “I’d try housekeeping instead.”
* * *
The next day, SondraBeth auditioned for the part of Monica in front of several people from the studio, including PP and Roger.
Pandy didn’t go. She was nervous for SondraBeth, but mostly, she was embarrassed. During the full day it had taken her to recover, Pandy realized that no doubt everyone else would turn out to be right, and SondraBeth wouldn’t be able to act at all. And then PP would be annoyed with her for wasting his time, and SondraBeth would be devastated. Pandy would have to deal with that startled, hopeless, beaten-down expression she saw on the faces of all the actresses who’d auditioned and knew they weren’t getting the part. Pandy would have to walk SondraBeth to the door, where they would say their goodbyes and never see each other again.
And that would be that. Recovering from the party and its aftermath—four hours of housekeeping’s cleaning the room, Doug Stone’s insistence on staying for breakfast and ordering enough room service for three people, SondraBeth asking if she could borrow Pandy’s dress for the audition, and Pandy having to come up with an excuse as to why she couldn’t—had left her feeling slightly unhinged. As if she’d inadvertently stumbled onto the set of someone else’s porn movie.
But maybe that was just an excuse for her own nerves.
At three o’clock, her phone bleated. It was Roger calling to let her know that SondraBeth had aced the audition, and that PP himself would be calling shortly. “She did great,” Roger informed her. “She was Monica—or rather, PJ Wallis. It was uncanny. She was exactly like you .”
Two long minutes passed before the phone rang again.
“PP for PJ Wallis, please,” the hushed girl-woman voice said as PP himself came on the line.
“Congratulations,” he said briskly, as if he barely had time for the call. “I’ll see you and SondraBeth tomorrow for lunch. Jessica,” he added to his assistant, “make the arrangements.”
Pandy hung up and sank to her knees in triumph.
She had won.
* * *
She and SondraBeth had a stiff, civilized lunch with PP on the terrace under the pink-and-white striped awnings at the Hotel Bel-Air. Pandy admired the swans, and everyone behaved like adults. Pandy limited herself to one glass of champagne, and SondraBeth didn’t drink at all.
One month later, when SondraBeth Schnowzer moved to New York City, Pandy welcomed her real, live Monica with open arms.
C HAPTER F IVE
T HAT FIRST summer, Pandy and SondraBeth were inseparable. Monica was in preproduction, and Pandy was consulted on locations and costumes and a variety of surprising details she’d never considered—but mostly she was tasked with instructing SondraBeth in the ways of becoming herself, and therefore Monica.
And so the transformation began:
Pandy immediately forgot all about her dress.
Lying facedown was a youngish man, tanned and shirtless, a flop of dark brown hair with blond roots brushing his shoulder. Pandy inhaled sharply.
“Doug Stone.” SondraBeth giggled. “Now there’s a guy who really knows how to live up to his name. On the other hand, he’s gorgeous, so who cares?”
Pandy took a step closer. “He’s so gorgeous, I can barely stand to look at him.” She sighed longingly.
SondraBeth cocked her head in surprise. “You certainly looked at him plenty last night.”
“I did?”
“You were making out with him. For, like, an hour. Don’t you remember?”
Pandy thought back through the hazy snippets she could recall. “No.”
“How could you forget a thing like that?” SondraBeth scolded. “In any case, I wouldn’t get too upset about it. He probably doesn’t remember, either.”
“Thanks a lot,” Pandy groaned. She took another look at Doug Stone and scratched her ear. “Do you think room service knows how to remove a body?”
SondraBeth laughed. “I’d try housekeeping instead.”
* * *
The next day, SondraBeth auditioned for the part of Monica in front of several people from the studio, including PP and Roger.
Pandy didn’t go. She was nervous for SondraBeth, but mostly, she was embarrassed. During the full day it had taken her to recover, Pandy realized that no doubt everyone else would turn out to be right, and SondraBeth wouldn’t be able to act at all. And then PP would be annoyed with her for wasting his time, and SondraBeth would be devastated. Pandy would have to deal with that startled, hopeless, beaten-down expression she saw on the faces of all the actresses who’d auditioned and knew they weren’t getting the part. Pandy would have to walk SondraBeth to the door, where they would say their goodbyes and never see each other again.
And that would be that. Recovering from the party and its aftermath—four hours of housekeeping’s cleaning the room, Doug Stone’s insistence on staying for breakfast and ordering enough room service for three people, SondraBeth asking if she could borrow Pandy’s dress for the audition, and Pandy having to come up with an excuse as to why she couldn’t—had left her feeling slightly unhinged. As if she’d inadvertently stumbled onto the set of someone else’s porn movie.
But maybe that was just an excuse for her own nerves.
At three o’clock, her phone bleated. It was Roger calling to let her know that SondraBeth had aced the audition, and that PP himself would be calling shortly. “She did great,” Roger informed her. “She was Monica—or rather, PJ Wallis. It was uncanny. She was exactly like you .”
Two long minutes passed before the phone rang again.
“PP for PJ Wallis, please,” the hushed girl-woman voice said as PP himself came on the line.
“Congratulations,” he said briskly, as if he barely had time for the call. “I’ll see you and SondraBeth tomorrow for lunch. Jessica,” he added to his assistant, “make the arrangements.”
Pandy hung up and sank to her knees in triumph.
She had won.
* * *
She and SondraBeth had a stiff, civilized lunch with PP on the terrace under the pink-and-white striped awnings at the Hotel Bel-Air. Pandy admired the swans, and everyone behaved like adults. Pandy limited herself to one glass of champagne, and SondraBeth didn’t drink at all.
One month later, when SondraBeth Schnowzer moved to New York City, Pandy welcomed her real, live Monica with open arms.
C HAPTER F IVE
T HAT FIRST summer, Pandy and SondraBeth were inseparable. Monica was in preproduction, and Pandy was consulted on locations and costumes and a variety of surprising details she’d never considered—but mostly she was tasked with instructing SondraBeth in the ways of becoming herself, and therefore Monica.
And so the transformation began:
Similar Books
