Page 30 of All That Glitters
Chapter twenty-four
Road Trips and Headless Gnomes
Debbie’s bedroom looked like a clothing store had exploded.
Every drawer was yanked open, every hanger stripped bare, and clothes lay scattered across the bed, floor, and even draped over the lampshade.
In the center of this textile disaster zone, Debbie stood holding up two different tops, her face a mask of pure panic.
“The blue one makes me look like a librarian,” she said, tossing it onto the growing pile. “And the red one makes me look like I’m trying too hard.” She tossed that one aside too and dove back into her closet with renewed desperation.
Veronica sat cross-legged on the bed, calmly folding the discarded clothes into neat piles. She’d already learned that the best way to help Debbie with anything was to simply follow behind her like a patient mother trailing a tornado.
“Deb, you’re going to see Tony, not audition for a fashion magazine,” Veronica said. “He’s seen you in pajamas with pizza sauce on your chin. I think you’re safe.”
“That’s exactly the problem!” Debbie emerged from the closet clutching a floral sundress. “He’s only seen me as his messy best friend. This weekend, I need him to see me as...” She gestured vaguely at herself. “You know. A woman.”
“You mean like someone with functioning ovaries? Because news flash, Deb — you’ve had those the whole time.”
Debbie shot her a look. “You know what I mean. As someone he could actually want to... you know...” She trailed off, her cheeks turning pink.
“Use your words,” Veronica said with a grin.
“Kiss!” Debbie blurted out, then immediately covered her face with the sundress. “Oh gawd, I can’t even say it without turning into a tomato. How am I supposed to actually tell him how I feel?”
Veronica’s expression softened. She got up and gently pulled the dress away from Debbie’s face. “Honey, this is Tony we’re talking about. The guy who once got his head stuck in a porch railing trying to retrieve a frisbee. He’s not exactly intimidating.”
“But what if he doesn’t feel the same way?” Debbie’s voice was small, vulnerable. “What if I tell him and it ruins everything? What if he laughs? What if—”
“What if he’s been waiting his whole life for you to say it?” Veronica interrupted gently.
Debbie stared at her, hope and terror warring in her eyes. “You really think...?”
“I think you’ll never know unless you try.” Veronica moved to her dresser and started rummaging through the bottom drawer. “And I think I have just the thing to help you out.”
She pulled out a small stack of cassette tapes, each one labeled in bold fonts: ‘CONFIDENCE IS SEXY!’ ‘FLIRTING FOR BEGINNERS,’ and ‘UNLEASH YOUR INNER GODDESS’.
Debbie picked up one of the tapes and read the cover: “‘How to be Irresistible in Seven Easy Steps.’” She looked at Veronica skeptically. “Where did you get these?”
“Late night TV shopping. Don’t judge me. I was going through a rough patch after Brad.” Veronica gathered up the tapes and pressed them into Debbie’s hands. “But seriously, they’re actually pretty good.”
“I don’t know...” Debbie turned over one of the tapes. “What if I try to be all sultry and sophisticated and just end up looking like I’m having some kind of medical emergency?”
“Then Tony will probably call 911, which means you’ll get to ride in an ambulance together. Very romantic.” Veronica grinned. “Come on, Deb. What’s the worst that could happen?”
Debbie considered this for approximately three seconds. “I could trip and fall on him. I could accidentally set something on fire. I could get food poisoning and throw up on his shoes. I could—”
“Okay, okay!” Veronica held up her hands.
“Bad question. But look, these tapes aren’t about turning you into someone else.
They’re about helping you be the best version of yourself.
The confident, funny, amazing Debbie that Tony already loves.
You just need to help him see that love could be more than friendship. ”
Debbie looked down at the tapes, then back at the chaos of her packing. “You really think I can do this?”
“I think you’re the only one who can do this,” Veronica said firmly. “You and Tony have something special, Deb. Don’t let fear keep you from finding out what that could be.”
Debbie took a deep breath and carefully placed the tapes in her overnight bag, right next to her toothbrush and the emergency stash of granola bars she always traveled with.
“Okay,” she said, more to herself than to Veronica. “I’m going to do this. I’m going to tell Tony Harding that I’m in love with him.”
“That’s the spirit!” Veronica cheered. Then she paused, looking thoughtful. “Although maybe we should pack you an extra shirt. You know, just in case you spill something on the way there.”
Debbie laughed despite her nerves. “Good thinking. Make it two extra shirts.”
“Better make it three,” Veronica said with a grin. “This is you we’re talking about.”
Tony’s motel room was everything you’ve come to expect and dread from a budget motel — faded carpet, a bed that sagged in the middle, and a TV that required repeated maintenance to get a clear picture.
He’d cleaned up as much as the place would allow, changed into his least wrinkled shirt, and was pacing the small space like an expectant dad waiting for Debbie to arrive.
The knock he’d been expecting all evening finally came. Tony practically lunged for the door, his face breaking into a wide, anticipatory grin.
“Deb, you actually made it without getting into a wreck, or—”
He swung the door open, and his words died in his throat.
Instead of Debbie’s familiar, slightly disheveled charm, he found himself face-to-face with Carrie Thompson.
She was stunning in a calculated, Hollywood way — perfect makeup, perfectly styled hair, and a dress revealing several miles of tanned legs.
“Oh,” he said, his brain short-circuiting slightly. “Hi.”
“Hi yourself,” Carrie purred, giving him a smile that could have powered the entire motel. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything important.”
“No, I... no.” Tony glanced past her toward the parking lot, half-expecting to see Debbie’s car pulling in. “What are you... how did you know where I was staying?”
“I asked around the set,” she said with a casual shrug. “You know, after that whole ketchup incident today, I realized you and I never got a chance to meet.”
From inside the room, the sound of the TV caught her attention. She peered past Tony’s shoulder, and her eyes lit up when she saw what was on.
“Oh my gosh, is that you?” She pointed at the TV, where Tony’s face filled the screen during his interview with Lauren Zales. The caption at the bottom read: ‘EXCLUSIVE: Writer reveals behind-the-scenes chaos on indie film set.’
Tony’s cheeks reddened. “Yeah, that’s... they interviewed me today. It’s pretty cringe.”
“Are you kidding? You’re on Hollywood Gossip!” Carrie’s excitement seemed genuine, though there was something calculated behind her sparkling blue eyes. “That’s so exciting! Do you mind if I come in and watch?”
Tony hesitated, glancing again toward the parking lot. Debbie could be here at any minute, and if she found Carrie Thompson in his motel room, the situation could spiral out of control quickly. And would likely result in bodily harm. To him.
But Carrie was already stepping past him with the confidence of someone who rarely heard the word ‘no.’
“I promise I’ll just stay for a minute,” she said, settling onto the edge of his bed with practiced ease. “I want to hear what you said about the production.”
On the TV, Tony was talking about some ‘creative liberties’ they had to take while doing his best to downplay the calamities. In the motel room, real-world Tony stood awkwardly by the door, unsure whether to close it or leave it open as an escape route.
Debbie was going to kick his butt if she arrived to find this.
“You’re really articulate,” Carrie said, her attention focused on the screen. “Most writers get flustered when they’re on camera.” She patted the bed beside her. “Come sit. Let’s watch your interview.”
Like a mindless, hormone-driven zombie, Tony walked over and sat on the bed, about as far away from her as he could without falling off.
She cast him a sideways look. “No. Here, silly,” she said, patting the bed right beside her. “I promise I won’t bite. Unless you’re into that kind of thing. Most producers are.”
Tony scooted over inch-by-inch until he was beside her, fumbling with his hands to give himself something to do with them.
She shot him a curious look. “Are you shy?”
“Not usually,” he said, fumbling even more now with his hands.
She studied him for a moment as his cheeks colored in pink. “You’re blushing, too.”
Tony bit his lip, willing himself to be anywhere but there. “I, uhm… I’m trying to make it stop, but my face won’t listen.”
A soft smile lit her eyes, with none of the predatory gleam from a moment ago. “It’s actually really adorable.”
Tony swallowed. “It is?”
“Yeah.” Something about his shy awkwardness around her caught her completely by surprise. He wasn’t at all the player she had expected to find when she came there that night. She turned to him, and something in her expression had changed. There was a softness in it now.
“You’re not from around here, are you?” she said.
He shook his head. “No. San Diego. Did my cluelessness give it away?”
She studied him for another moment then shook her head. “No. It was your blush. Guys in this industry don’t blush. They take.”
This admission caught him by surprise. He looked at her. She averted her eyes for a moment and stared down at her hands. When she looked back at him, the seductive mask was gone, replaced by something almost wounded in her eyes.
“Can I ask you something, Tony?” she said. “And please be honest.”
He looked at her. “Okay.”
She took a small breath. “Do you think this movie is going to be good? Like, watchable good? Not just so-bad-it’s-good, but actually good?”