One Night With You by Candace Schuler

who brings to mind old Boston wealth, in a rather plain black dress, demurely high necked and long sleeved, her snowy hair arranged softly around her lined aristocratic face. But she also wore a magnificently gaudy set of the most enormous rubies Desi had ever seen; necklace, earrings and bracelets on both wrists, with several rings on each of her hands.
    "All real," she said. "Given to me by my late husband for...." And here her sharp black eyes slanted a coy look at the audience, "Well, I'd tell you, but this young man here says I can't say certain things on TV." She waved one jeweled hand airily. "It's all in my book," she said in her regal, crackling voice. "You'll just have to read it to find out, won't you?"
    Her speech and accent were those of an educated and cultured woman of a bygone era, but some of her language was as salty as a sailor's and she flirted outrageously with the show's host and with Jake, who happened to be one of the other guests that night. It should have been a ridiculous performance, but it wasn't. It was thoroughly charming, totally captivating and the audience was delighted.
    "Who bought it?" Desi asked excitedly. "What studio?"
    It was public knowledge, at least in the industry, that Dorothea Heller was adamant about retaining some control—a great deal of control actually—over her work. It was her life story, she insisted, hers and her late husband's, and only she knew how it should be done. So far, no major studio had seemed willing to grant her, in writing, the amount of control she wanted. Given the circumstances, Desi half-expected Eldin's next words.
    "No studio," answered Eldin. "An independent producer walked away with the movie rights. First-timer who wanted it enough to promise her any amount of control she asked for."
    "You're kidding! No, I know you never kid. Who?" she demanded.
    "It's all still very hush-hush until negotiations for the female lead are made final. So I'm not free to tell you at this point," he said, his voice conspiratorial and smug. Eldin loved a secret. "Your name could be on the credits as Head of Makeup," he tossed off casually. "Interested?"
    "Interested! Of course I'm interested. Head of Makeup. But what about you? Aren't you heading this up? I mean... You know what I mean."
    "Oh, we're going to think up a new title for me. Don't worry, luv, I'm not giving anything away. Not even to you."
    "Oh, Eldin." She could hardly believe it. "Head of Makeup. Me! When do we start? Where do we start? In New York?" Would she be able to take Stephanie to New York?
    "No, not New York. Haven't you read the book? The location shooting will be in the wine country, don't know exactly where just yet... some in San Francisco, too."
    "Oh, that's wonderful," she said, relieved. "I won't have to worry about Stephanie, then. I mean, I'd hate to be away from her for too long just yet—" Desi began to explain, afraid for a moment that Eldin might not understand her concern for her child. She didn't want him thinking that she thought her baby was more important than her career. Stephanie was, of course, but nobody had to know that but her. Unless you were a star, motherhood was not looked upon with indulgence in the movie industry.
    "No need to explain," he said, cutting off her words, and then his voice became all business as he launched into what information he could give her at this time. "And needless to say, you won't whisper a thing to anyone yet. Not even that new redhead of yours, understand?"
    "Yes, sir—" she smiled at his seriousness "—understood."
    "See you in two weeks then," Eldin said, and hung up without waiting for her goodbye.
    Devil's Lady , imagine that! And her name was going to be listed on the credits as Head of Makeup. Her name! She felt goose bumps erupt on her arms just thinking about it. The book that every major moviemaker was after and some new and so far unknown producer had it. Unknown, anyway, to her, she amended. Desi wondered briefly whether Eldin