Page 13 of A Star is Scorned

Livvy was exhausted. Judy had wanted them to go out tonight to celebrate their first week in Hollywood, but it had been a very long week, full of fencing lessons, corset fittings, and only the slightest bit of acting.

So, Judy had decided to try to pick up a shift at the Sphinx Club.

God knew they needed the money. As for Livvy, she was going to soak in the tub with the lights off and then get into bed early to read the new book she’d picked up from the Hollywood Boulevard library.

Livvy let herself in to the tiny apartment and was surprised to find Judy sitting on the couch, clutching a copy of Reel Stories to her chest and grinning like a fiend.

“I thought you had to work at the club tonight.”

Judy waved her off. “Nah, they want me to get more dance rehearsals in before I take a shift on the floor.”

“What’s that?” Livvy gestured to the magazine her sister was holding.

Her sister turned it around, holding it open to a giant spread with a large script-font headline that read, Does Flynn Banks have a new lady love?

It was plastered over images of Livvy and Flynn leaving the lot, hand in hand.

Harry had arranged the “candid” photo shoot Tuesday afternoon, tipping off reporters that Flynn and Livvy were going to be taking a late lunch together, having immediately sparked to each other.

Judy squealed. “You’re already in the fan magazines, and you’ve only been in Hollywood for a week!”

Livvy smiled wanly, and Judy shook her head. “Fame is wasted on you,” her sister said, sighing. Livvy walked behind the couch and pressed a kiss to the top of her sister’s head.

“It certainly is. If I could just act, that’d be one thing. I am enjoying that part of the job. But the rest of it—endless costume fittings, posing for photographers, fame? You can have it. And you will. Soon, it’ll be you in those fan magazines.”

Judy shook her off. “I was just teasing, Livvy. You deserve it just as much as I do. If not more.”

“Deserving’s got nothing to do with it. You’re the one who wanted it.

Who has always wanted it.” Livvy looked at her sister and fought back tears.

How had they ended up here? Their parents dead.

Livvy doing a job that should have been Judy’s.

And Judy dancing in some seedy joint that didn’t seem to care about protecting their employees from harm.

It wasn’t the life either of them had dreamed of.

God, it had been such a long week. She had considered quitting at least ten times.

But then she would remember why they were here, why she’d said yes to the one-picture contract.

To get them to Hollywood. To give Judy a crack at her dream.

But she had made that goal before a publicity stunt with Flynn Banks was added to the equation, before she had to endure staged photo ops like the one in Reel Stories magazine. The whole thing was exhausting.

Judy leaned her head back against the couch and looked up at Livvy. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Livvy lied. “I’m just tired.”

Judy patted the top of Livvy’s hand gently. “I made you supper. Let me get it for you.” Judy stood and Livvy collapsed on their couch. When Judy returned, she was carrying a plate and limping her way across the room.

“What happened?” Livvy leapt up, taking the plate from Judy’s hands and ushering her sister back to the couch.

Judy rolled her eyes. “Are you going to fuss over me like this every time I take a spill? Dancing is hard on the body, you know that.”

Livvy ignored her, crouching on the floor and picking up Judy’s foot to examine her ankle more closely. She could see now that it was swollen. Not badly, but enough to tell Judy had sprained it. “First, you hurt your wrist dancing, now your ankle? What kind of safety measures does this place have?”

Judy yanked her foot out of Livvy’s grasp, wincing at the sudden movement. “Livvy, you can’t go to pieces every time I get a little bump or bruise. It’s a normal part of the job.”

Livvy eyed her sister skeptically. Judy’s story didn’t add up. The kid had been dancing most of her life, and she’d never sustained injuries like this in such quick succession. “It seems a bit too frequent for my taste.”

“Well, that’s why I need more rehearsals. This choreography is harder than anything I’ve done before.”

Livvy wanted to argue and ask more questions.

Because something was not right. Judy wasn’t telling the whole truth.

But Livvy was too tired, and she had to trust her at some point, didn’t she?

Short of quitting her job to accompany Judy to rehearsals, there wasn’t much she could do besides take her sister at her word.

So, she bit her tongue and reached for the plate Judy had prepared for her.

“Just promise me you’ll be more careful, okay? ”

“If I promise, will you read this story with me?” Judy held up the glossy magazine, her eyes turning to dreamy moons.

Livvy laughed. “Sure. But let me eat and take a shower first?” Judy hugged her in response.

A half hour later, Livvy emerged from the bathroom, clad in a fluffy pink robe that had seen better days, her damp hair wrapped in a matching towel. Judy was in her pajamas, a matching set in red-and-white stripes, sitting on the couch with the magazine and a bottle of nail polish.

“Paint my toes?” she asked hopefully. Livvy could never say no to Judy, so she nodded and took a seat. She carefully unscrewed the top from the pale-pink polish and applied it to Judy’s outstretched toenails.

Judy read aloud from the fan magazine. “‘The swashbuckling Flynn Banks was spotted leaving the Evets’s Studios lot hand in hand with his new leading lady, the raven-haired beauty Liv de Lesseps.’ Oooo, Livvy, they called you a ‘raven-haired beauty.’”

Livvy chuckled and moved from Judy’s left foot to her right. “They’re just being kind.” But secretly she was a little pleased at the description.

Judy rolled her eyes and kept reading. “‘Miss De Lesseps is new to the pictures, hailing from the stage. She impressed critics last summer as Lady Macbeth at the Hollywood Bowl, taking over as a mere understudy. It earned her a job with Harry Evets, and she is making her screen debut opposite Hollywood’s favorite scoundrel. The two were seen headed to a small sidewalk café near the studio, where our sources tell us they were preparing to enjoy a cozy lunch.’”

Livvy snorted. “We didn’t even speak. We smiled for the cameras and ordered our food separately. He didn’t even pick up the tab.” She started blowing on her sister’s toes, wanting the polish to get a little tacky before she applied a second coat.

The second she had arrived home the other evening, she had told Judy about the studio’s PR scheme.

Livvy had considered not telling her, letting Judy believe they were dating.

The fewer people who knew they were faking things, the more likely they would pull this off.

But Livvy couldn’t lie to her sister, especially not about dating Flynn Banks.

So Livvy had told her the truth. Judy had squealed, insisted it was “just like a movie,” and hugged her.

But so far, the scheme felt less like a movie and more like a pantomime, with broad tableaus like this “cozy lunch” to signify the hallmarks of a relationship with nothing substantive to back them up.

“I guess a corn dog and a roast beef sandwich that we took back to our respective dressing rooms is their idea of a romantic outing.”

Judy shushed her. “Let me finish! ‘Flynn Banks has never been spotted out with the same woman twice, but could the lovely Miss De Lesseps finally change his roguish ways?’”

“The answer is no,” quipped Livvy.

“You never know,” answered Judy, a dreamy, wistful turn in her voice.

“Judy, I told you, this is all a studio setup. It’s only for publicity.

” She was attracted to Flynn, yes, but this could never be anything more than a charade.

She would only open herself up for heartbreak if she started wanting otherwise.

Flynn Banks was not the kind of man anyone should fall in love with.

Besides, Judy was already starry-eyed enough.

The last thing Livvy needed to do was encourage her girlish fantasies.

To remind herself, Livvy looked at the old newspaper still lying on the coffee table.

Evelyn had given it to her during another costume fitting.

Tuesday’s copy of the Los Angeles Examiner with another headline all about Flynn, a story from one aspiring actress Rhonda Powers, who claimed Flynn had jilted her at the altar.

She suspected Evelyn had given it to her as a warning to keep her distance from Flynn.

But for Livvy, it was a crucial puzzle piece. As soon as she’d seen the story, Livvy knew that Rhonda Powers was the reason that she had been ordered to date Flynn. Harry was trying to kill the story by inventing another romance to distract the public. It was a pretty smart idea, she had to admit.

“This”—she tapped the photo of Flynn in the Examiner, a staged portrait that showcased his wolfish grin and the wave in his dark-blond hair—“this is who Flynn Banks is and always will be.”

Judy shrugged and wriggled her toes as Livvy screwed the top back on the polish. “There’s no reason you can’t have some fun though. When’s he taking you on a real date?”

“None of them are real dates, Judy.”

“Oh, hush, can’t you just play along? You need to practice so you don’t slip up in front of the press.”

Her sister had a point. “Tomorrow. We’re going sailing. Some race to Catalina Island. I have to meet him at the marina. I’d rather spend the day with you.”

“You couldn’t, even if you didn’t have a date. I have dance rehearsal all day; we’re learning a new floor show.”

“Don’t get too tired, and don’t put too much strain on that ankle. You don’t want to make it worse. And make sure you drink plenty of water and bring snacks.”