puttering around the garage and Mom's book club was standing at the front window when Olivia Dag-wood's car pulled into the drive. Marnie climbed out, thanked the driver, and with her portfolio in hand, practically floated up to the door.
"Who was that?" her dad called to her as she floated by.
"A friend," she said dreamily.
"You have a friend that drives a car like
that
?" Dad asked, his voice full of incredulity.
"Yep."
"Where's your car?"
"On La Cienega. Mom can drop me later," she said, and floated inside. She was instantly met by five women, all menopausal, and all on at least their second cocktail. They stared at her curiously as she entered the dining room, where they typically held court.
"Who was
that
?" Mom asked.
"No one you know."
"Was it Olivia Dagwood?"
That earned a collective gasp from the book club group. "Olivia
Dagwood
? The movie star?" Mrs. Randolph demanded, crowding in closer than anyone. "How would
you
know Olivia Dagwood?"
Mrs. Randolph was not a big fan of Mamie's, not for twenty years since Marnie broke up with her son Tim in middle school. "Olivia Dagwood? No!" Marnie cried and followed it up with a high-pitched, desperate bark of laughter. "Don't be silly! That wasn't Olivia Dagwood, that was
Lucy
!"
"Lucy?" Mom asked, looking very skeptical.
"Lucy! Lucy, Lucy, Lucy! From my old job, remember? She and I used to take Pilates together. She's in town for a couple of days."
"Oh…" Mom said, her skepticism turning into confusion. "Yes. I think I remember a Lucy. Of course.
Lucy
."
Crisis averted. At least until later when a canny Mom would want to know what happened to this so-called Lucy. "Okay, gotta jet," Marnie said with a smile and cheerful wave, then darted down the hall to her bedroom before her mom could utter the name Olivia Dagwood again.
Her bedroom, all yellow-and-white gingham, had remained unchanged since 1985, and usually Marnie hated it, but today, she tossed her portfolio on the bed and sank onto the bench in front of her vanity, grinning like a fool into a mirror that still had a picture of Sylvester Stallone as
Rambo
tucked into the mirror frame.
But Marnie didn't see Rambo. All she could see was a vision of her new future. Tomorrow, the car was going to pick her up and take her to Olivia's
house
. She was going to Olivia Dagwood's house in Brentwood to talk about dresses and cakes and… and something about an arch that Marnie didn't really understand, but would figure out later.
Could this be happening? After suffering the layoff and having to move home and not being able to find a job and generally feeling pretty crummy about herself, could it be possible that she was about to climb out of a hole and start a new exciting career?
Not dressed liked a frump she wasn't!
Marnie jumped up and headed for her meager closet. She was really going to have to find something that made her look a lot less incredibly hulkish if she was going to be the wedding planner to the stars.
----
Chapter Six
AT the DreamWorks studio, Jack and Eli met with the executive producer of the live-action period movie
Graham's Crossing
, which was set to start filming in October in Ireland. T.A. had been tapped to choreograph and coordinate the film's stunt work, and they were currently negotiating the terms of the agreement.
At the conclusion of the meeting, Jack asked Eli to wait—he had something he needed to do with the director, who happened to be in the building.
Eli was hanging out in the executive lobby, flipping through
Variety
, when he felt a familiar presence. He slowly looked up and idly wondered if he'd go his whole life feeling like he'd been kicked in the stomach every time he saw her. "Hello, Trish," he said, his voice gone depressingly soft.
"Hi, Eli," she said, smiling prettily, as if they were old acquaintances. As if they'd never been more than that.
She didn't look any different—still pretty and small and blond. Her clothing looked top dollar, but Eli would have
"Who was that?" her dad called to her as she floated by.
"A friend," she said dreamily.
"You have a friend that drives a car like
that
?" Dad asked, his voice full of incredulity.
"Yep."
"Where's your car?"
"On La Cienega. Mom can drop me later," she said, and floated inside. She was instantly met by five women, all menopausal, and all on at least their second cocktail. They stared at her curiously as she entered the dining room, where they typically held court.
"Who was
that
?" Mom asked.
"No one you know."
"Was it Olivia Dagwood?"
That earned a collective gasp from the book club group. "Olivia
Dagwood
? The movie star?" Mrs. Randolph demanded, crowding in closer than anyone. "How would
you
know Olivia Dagwood?"
Mrs. Randolph was not a big fan of Mamie's, not for twenty years since Marnie broke up with her son Tim in middle school. "Olivia Dagwood? No!" Marnie cried and followed it up with a high-pitched, desperate bark of laughter. "Don't be silly! That wasn't Olivia Dagwood, that was
Lucy
!"
"Lucy?" Mom asked, looking very skeptical.
"Lucy! Lucy, Lucy, Lucy! From my old job, remember? She and I used to take Pilates together. She's in town for a couple of days."
"Oh…" Mom said, her skepticism turning into confusion. "Yes. I think I remember a Lucy. Of course.
Lucy
."
Crisis averted. At least until later when a canny Mom would want to know what happened to this so-called Lucy. "Okay, gotta jet," Marnie said with a smile and cheerful wave, then darted down the hall to her bedroom before her mom could utter the name Olivia Dagwood again.
Her bedroom, all yellow-and-white gingham, had remained unchanged since 1985, and usually Marnie hated it, but today, she tossed her portfolio on the bed and sank onto the bench in front of her vanity, grinning like a fool into a mirror that still had a picture of Sylvester Stallone as
Rambo
tucked into the mirror frame.
But Marnie didn't see Rambo. All she could see was a vision of her new future. Tomorrow, the car was going to pick her up and take her to Olivia's
house
. She was going to Olivia Dagwood's house in Brentwood to talk about dresses and cakes and… and something about an arch that Marnie didn't really understand, but would figure out later.
Could this be happening? After suffering the layoff and having to move home and not being able to find a job and generally feeling pretty crummy about herself, could it be possible that she was about to climb out of a hole and start a new exciting career?
Not dressed liked a frump she wasn't!
Marnie jumped up and headed for her meager closet. She was really going to have to find something that made her look a lot less incredibly hulkish if she was going to be the wedding planner to the stars.
----
Chapter Six
AT the DreamWorks studio, Jack and Eli met with the executive producer of the live-action period movie
Graham's Crossing
, which was set to start filming in October in Ireland. T.A. had been tapped to choreograph and coordinate the film's stunt work, and they were currently negotiating the terms of the agreement.
At the conclusion of the meeting, Jack asked Eli to wait—he had something he needed to do with the director, who happened to be in the building.
Eli was hanging out in the executive lobby, flipping through
Variety
, when he felt a familiar presence. He slowly looked up and idly wondered if he'd go his whole life feeling like he'd been kicked in the stomach every time he saw her. "Hello, Trish," he said, his voice gone depressingly soft.
"Hi, Eli," she said, smiling prettily, as if they were old acquaintances. As if they'd never been more than that.
She didn't look any different—still pretty and small and blond. Her clothing looked top dollar, but Eli would have
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