Platinum Doll. Anne Girard

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СКАЧАТЬ raised in an upper-class group in Missouri and after her mother had remarried, she was educated at a posh private school outside of Chicago. But these people were a cut above that. There was a carefree air that surrounded them, and it was instantly intimidating. Harlean had a feeling that this party was actually designed more to size them up than welcome them.

      Just when she was starting to think that this might’ve been a mistake, she saw someone she recognized. The mood lightened instantly as an old friend of hers came up the walkway carrying a bouquet of daisies. She wore a pretty floral dress cinched at the waist and a similar rope of pearls to the other girls.

      “Rosalie McCray?” Harlean shrieked with surprise at the pretty, petite girl with the chestnut curls suddenly standing before her. “Gosh, what are you doing here? I remember you told us you lived near Hollywood, but I never imagined!”

      “Who else do you think organized this little party?”

      The girls embraced and Harlean took the flowers from her. “I wrote to your address in Chicago as soon as we all left the cruise, just like I promised I would,” Rosalie explained. Her accent was sugary sweet, and pure Texas.

      “I suppose you didn’t receive it before you came out here? Anyway, Ivor heard that the two of you had moved in right down the street from us so we had to be the first to welcome you to our little corner of heaven.”

      Chuck and Harlean had met Rosalie and her husband, Ivor, on their honeymoon cruise through the Panama Canal in January, and the two couples had quickly become friends. Rosalie and Harlean found they had a great deal in common since both of them had been teenage brides with rich young husbands.

      “Good to see you again, Rosie,” Chuck said after he’d pressed a breezy kiss onto Rosalie’s cheek. “Like a toddy, kids?”

      Chuck had solemnly promised Harlean just that afternoon that he was only going to drink a little today while they entertained their neighbors, but she could tell that he had already knocked back a couple of stiff ones. His voice always grew just a little louder when he was drinking. Knowing that he used alcohol to bolster his confidence, she could see that he felt well out of his league with these people, trust fund or not. Secretly, his drinking frightened her because she suspected his reason for it was deeper than just wanting confidence. She believed, probably subconsciously, it was to keep from confronting his grief over the death of his parents, but for now she tried to put her mind on happier thoughts.

      “Gosh, I’m happy to see you,” Harlean exclaimed once Chuck had wandered off.

      Rosalie glanced around the crowded bungalow. “Chuck sure got you a swell place here, honey. You know, last month Miss Clara Bow herself moved into the neighborhood, just a couple of blocks from here,” she said in a gossipy tone.

      “No! My mother would die of envy!” Harlean squealed, and then they both giggled. “Think she’d mind if we popped over for a cup of sugar?”

      “So, how have things been between the two of you since the cruise?”

      Rosalie asked the question so suddenly that Harlean was thrown off guard.

      “Things are great,” she answered, and she knew that it had been too quickly.

      Harlean’s friendship with Rosalie had been cemented when Chuck had gotten so drunk one night that he had passed out at the dinner table and had to be carried to his stateroom by two waiters. Rosalie had helped her outside as she’d wept, and the two had spent the rest of that evening up on deck watching the stars and talking about their childhoods.

      She hated having to make excuses for Chuck but she couldn’t bear to have anyone think poorly of him.

      “Honestly, he’s doing great now that we’re here. That one night with you guys was just a fluke. We’d had that quarrel after he’d had too much to drink. That’s all it was.”

      Rosalie followed Harlean’s gaze across the room to Chuck. At the moment, he was telling an animated story with great gesticulations.

      “Of course that was it, honey. They’re all like that once in a while. So what do you say to lunch tomorrow, just the two of us girls? I’ll show you around town.”

      “Gosh, that’d be great.”

      “Can we take your car? Ivor has to take ours for an early tee off time with a few of the boys.”

      “Sure, but do you suppose Chuck can tag along to the golf course? I’m not sure what else he’d do around here all day while I’m gone.”

      She didn’t want to say that she was nervous he’d sit alone and drink.

      Rosalie’s smile faded a degree. “Gee, honey, I’d really like to tell you yes, but since they play at the country club, there has to be an invite from one of the swells over there. Real obnoxious, blue-blooded, East Coast types control everything. Ivor only just got his invitation a couple of weeks ago so he’s still on thin ice till they decide if he’s all right or not.” Rosalie lowered her voice and leaned nearer. “Between you and me, we both hate having to kiss everyone’s posterior around here, but that’s just the way it is when you’re new in town.”

      “That’s okay, I understand,” Harlean forced herself to say.

      She didn’t really mean it, but she wasn’t about to lose this chance with a girl who could show her the ropes. She would need determination in the coming days to get ahead with this tony group. Besides, she really did like Rosalie. She had an infectious laugh and a sweet, sincere disposition. She hadn’t grown up with many girlfriends so this meant a great deal to her.

      “Let’s go see what you’ve got to wear to lunch. The Brown Derby is becoming pretty exclusive, so we’ve got to look the part if we don’t want a table back near the kitchen.”

      “I thought you were an actress,” Harlean said.

      “For now I’m just an extra. If I’m lucky I get a walk-on here and there. But that sure as heck doesn’t mean I can’t act! You’ll see what I mean tomorrow,” she said conspiratorially.

      Even though Harlean couldn’t imagine what Rosalie meant, she was certain lunch was going to be interesting.

      * * *

      Harlean and Rosalie drove to lunch just before noon the next day. Chuck had washed the car until it gleamed because he knew how important it was that his wife had a friend in California and they were going off to do something together. Even though it was a warm day, she decided not to put the top down so she wouldn’t ruin the careful wave she’d given to her usually fluffy blond hair.

      The Brown Derby on Wilshire Boulevard looked just like its name: it was whimsically constructed in the shape of a huge hat. She had read all about the restaurant and the stars who dined there in Photoplay magazine, so she was almost as excited to see the building as to lunch there.

      “Have you a reservation?” the maître d’ asked, using a slightly snotty French accent. Harlean knew enough French from her school days to know that it was fake. The tag on this lapel read “Francois.”

      Rosalie met his gaze unflinchingly. “Lady Helen Crumley, table for two. My secretary phoned. As usual, we’ll have a booth.”

      Harlean watched his reserve dissolve faced with Rosalie’s hauteur and her believable English СКАЧАТЬ