difficulty reaching him sometimes, and I thought you might like to know, in case you haven’t talked to him lately. That’s all. I never meant to give you a fright.”
“Oh.” Jane took in a big breath, let it out. “Problems on the set?” Her voice was a bit choked. She cleared her throat.
“Yes. They mentioned clashes between Ian and Tor and, something else, between Ian and Delaney. Just rumors, perhaps."
There was a thick silence on the other end.
“Mm-hmm?”
Marta stood up, letting the chair fall with a clunk, so as to listen better for any further reaction. She favored her right foot, leaning on the table for some support.
“Well, thank you.” Jane sounded subdued. “Thank you for thinking of me.”
“Of course.” Marta was bitter with disappointment, over what she wasn’t sure. “Shall I send you the clipping?”
“Well, okay,” Jane said, in an ‘if you must’ voice.
That was something.
“Right,” Marta said. “I’ll do that.” On the other hand, she could just drop it by personally. She was itching to get back to the Reilly homestead, since she couldn’t be on Crete. Her man there would do his job. She darted around in her mind for ways to extend the call. “How’s Tam?”
“She’s fine. Oh, gosh, I just looked at the time and I have to get her up for school. It was good of you to call. Take care.”
“Take care,” Marta echoed, hope slipping away. What did she really expect? That she’d get invited over for tea? She held on to the phone until she heard a click and the dial tone in her ear.
Flipping her phone shut, she considered her position. She was in a quandary as to how much she should tell her editor about this intimate little interaction with Ian Reilly’s wife and child. While she could fly back to present the scenario to her editor in all its glory, now she wasn’t so sure. She had the bit of string at the end, and who knew how far it might go if she pulled it. If she gave up what she had now, it would be put out right away. But if she held on until she had the whole thing, she had a chance for the cover photo, lead story.
Photos juxtaposed of Reilly and Corts vs. Innocent Wife and Child. Direct quotes from trusting wife. First-hand copy of behavior of child. First-hand photos and gossip on Reilly’s activities on the set. Off the set and in the trailer, or wherever. It would be the biggest story of her career to date. The juiciest, anyway. If only Beeze could get something. Too bad Jane didn’t go for setting up the interview with Ian. Marta stared off into space, imagining it. What she’d say, what he’d say. What she’d say in return. What she’d wear. Ian Reilly .
Of course, it wouldn’t hurt to drop off the clipping. And maybe some flowers.
CHAPTER NINE
“I’ M IN A little hut.”
He had called. There would be fewer calls as he got deeper into filming. For now, he was accessible.
“Sounds cozy.” Jane couldn’t hear the ocean through the phone.
“How’s our girl?”
“Reading.”
“You’re killing me.”
“I know. Our baby.”
“If I can, I’ll call tomorrow after school. She can read for me.”
“How’s the shoot?”
“Director’s a bit of a toughie.”
“You’ll take care of that.”
“He’ll take care of me, more likely.”
“Are you okay?”
“Have a bit of a bad feeling about this one. Not about the part.”
“It’s a long one.”
“Shite. Evelyn. She called me.”
Evelyn Kenny, Ian’s old drama school friend. The other one from his class who’d made it, if making it was everyone knowing who you were and what you did and buying a ticket to watch you do it.
“Oh?”
“Remember she was going to visit?”
“While you’re gone?”
“I know. I’m sorry. She really needs it at the moment. She’s had a rough time lately. You’ll like her.”
“Oh, Ian. You already told her it’s okay, I suppose.”
“She’s my friend.”
“I’m your wife.”
“No
“Oh.” Jane took in a big breath, let it out. “Problems on the set?” Her voice was a bit choked. She cleared her throat.
“Yes. They mentioned clashes between Ian and Tor and, something else, between Ian and Delaney. Just rumors, perhaps."
There was a thick silence on the other end.
“Mm-hmm?”
Marta stood up, letting the chair fall with a clunk, so as to listen better for any further reaction. She favored her right foot, leaning on the table for some support.
“Well, thank you.” Jane sounded subdued. “Thank you for thinking of me.”
“Of course.” Marta was bitter with disappointment, over what she wasn’t sure. “Shall I send you the clipping?”
“Well, okay,” Jane said, in an ‘if you must’ voice.
That was something.
“Right,” Marta said. “I’ll do that.” On the other hand, she could just drop it by personally. She was itching to get back to the Reilly homestead, since she couldn’t be on Crete. Her man there would do his job. She darted around in her mind for ways to extend the call. “How’s Tam?”
“She’s fine. Oh, gosh, I just looked at the time and I have to get her up for school. It was good of you to call. Take care.”
“Take care,” Marta echoed, hope slipping away. What did she really expect? That she’d get invited over for tea? She held on to the phone until she heard a click and the dial tone in her ear.
Flipping her phone shut, she considered her position. She was in a quandary as to how much she should tell her editor about this intimate little interaction with Ian Reilly’s wife and child. While she could fly back to present the scenario to her editor in all its glory, now she wasn’t so sure. She had the bit of string at the end, and who knew how far it might go if she pulled it. If she gave up what she had now, it would be put out right away. But if she held on until she had the whole thing, she had a chance for the cover photo, lead story.
Photos juxtaposed of Reilly and Corts vs. Innocent Wife and Child. Direct quotes from trusting wife. First-hand copy of behavior of child. First-hand photos and gossip on Reilly’s activities on the set. Off the set and in the trailer, or wherever. It would be the biggest story of her career to date. The juiciest, anyway. If only Beeze could get something. Too bad Jane didn’t go for setting up the interview with Ian. Marta stared off into space, imagining it. What she’d say, what he’d say. What she’d say in return. What she’d wear. Ian Reilly .
Of course, it wouldn’t hurt to drop off the clipping. And maybe some flowers.
CHAPTER NINE
“I’ M IN A little hut.”
He had called. There would be fewer calls as he got deeper into filming. For now, he was accessible.
“Sounds cozy.” Jane couldn’t hear the ocean through the phone.
“How’s our girl?”
“Reading.”
“You’re killing me.”
“I know. Our baby.”
“If I can, I’ll call tomorrow after school. She can read for me.”
“How’s the shoot?”
“Director’s a bit of a toughie.”
“You’ll take care of that.”
“He’ll take care of me, more likely.”
“Are you okay?”
“Have a bit of a bad feeling about this one. Not about the part.”
“It’s a long one.”
“Shite. Evelyn. She called me.”
Evelyn Kenny, Ian’s old drama school friend. The other one from his class who’d made it, if making it was everyone knowing who you were and what you did and buying a ticket to watch you do it.
“Oh?”
“Remember she was going to visit?”
“While you’re gone?”
“I know. I’m sorry. She really needs it at the moment. She’s had a rough time lately. You’ll like her.”
“Oh, Ian. You already told her it’s okay, I suppose.”
“She’s my friend.”
“I’m your wife.”
“No
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