Page 12 of In Her Arms

Speaking of Esme, she appeared from around a corner and came over to Cameron, ducking behind the bar to give her a hug.

“Thank you so much for coming Cam. You really have no idea how much you’ve helped.”

“Anytime, Esme. I’ve missed being here.”

Thiswas the satisfaction Cameron normally got out of work. Being able to tell, physically tell, when she had done her job and done it well. It helped that she had worked so many odd jobs in the past. Being a Jack-of-all-trades was incredibly useful, Cameron thought. Most skills, even half-learned, could prove to be useful in some capacity. She could see it on the regulars’faces, too, they were happy to have her back again. This was community. This was satisfaction.

The evening went on, and finally, the last of the patrons exited the building.

“We haven’t had that kind of crowd in months,” Esme said, spraying down the countertop with a citrus-scented cleaner. Harper beamed with pride, leaning over to kiss Mia on the cheek.

“What can I say? She knows how to keep a crowd’s attention!” said Harpe.

“It’s so good to be home after so much traveling. I love performing, but I also like being able to get some time off. Not that I wasn’t grateful for the company while traveling, baby, but I’m happy to be here.” Mia sighed.

Cameron was a little jealous. Mia was able to balance fame with a relationship that had initially started out as an illicit affair with her agent and had turned into a beautiful, long-term relationship. Meanwhile Cameron could barely find somebody to hold hands with. The open affection between them was adorable to her, but in a way that she understood to be just aesthetic. She wouldn’t be comfortable being kissed on the cheek in public, even in front of her friends, without some serious exposure therapy.

She thought about what it might be like bringing Goldie to the Lounge. It felt a little bit like taking a girlfriend home to meet her parents the more she thought about it, but she supposed that the comparison wasn’t out of the blue.

“How do you two manage to not like...kill each other? Sharing a space that small, I mean, that’s gotta be tough, especially when there’s that fear of being watched.”

The two women laughed.

“It’s been tough, absolutely. Especially near the beginning, if one person has a professional reputation to keep up.” At this, Mia nudged Harper, who rolled her eyes fondly. “It can be difficult to agree on what the priorities are, especially when a person might put up a mask.”

“Like being rude for no reason?” Cameron suggested.

She felt Esme look at her sideways but tried her best to ignore it. It was Harper who jumped in this time.

“Absolutely! People will refuse to cooperate professionally for the most stupid reasons, often just to protect their own ego. You know, I’ll give you an example. The other day, Deb calls me and she’s really fucking stressed. I ask her what’s wrong, and she tells me that a lead actor on one of the shows she’s producing had been so rude to her assistant that he walked off set! Don’t get me wrong, not exactly uncommon, but still. They had to hire a new person last minute. Yeah, I can’t tell you who the actress is, but behind the scenes, she’s said to have a real temper, super inconsiderate.”

Cameron nodded along, pretending like this was celebrity gossip instead of her actual life experience. She wasn’t surprised that people knew Goldie was like this. In an industry like entertainment, reputation was everything. Word traveled quickly.

Later that night, when Cameron arrived home, she called Deborah. Well, she tried to call Deborah. She didn’t pick up thephone, so after two missed calls, Cameron decided to leave her a voicemail.

“Hey, Deb, it’s Cam here. If you’re around for a quick call during the week, let me know. I know you’re busy, but there’s something I want to talk to you about.”

8

GOLDIE

Case files were dense. Goldie had known this going into the project, sure, and she had spent three months preparing for the role and reading every legal document she got in the mail and then some. Still, it never failed to surprise her just how cryptic and complicated legal jargon could get. She had ended up buying a Latin-English dictionary so she could translate certain terms. “Become a star, they said. It’ll be super glam, they said,” she whispered to herself as she looked out the window.

Living in her trailer wasn’ttoobad. She had decorated it, bringing small items to set from her home up north in a small suitcase. She had insisted on having the bag with her on the flight, keeping it stashed next to her in first class as she traveled. The sideways look she had gotten from one of the flight attendants had been completely worth it.

In the suitcase were some antique and vintage pieces she had snatched up at various auctions and showrooms. Smaller things, like picture frames, glasses and—her personal favorite—a brass lighter dating from pre-WW2 Berlin. She had studied the gay history of the city extensively, fascinated by the nightlife andvibrant art that proliferated right before the war. She had lost track of the amount of times she had readChristopher and His Kind,and though she adored Liza Minelli inCabaretas much as the next theatre geek, it didn’t hold a candle to the source material. She had been in a production ofCabaretat fifteen, on stage caked in makeup, her feet squeezed into character shoes. She had the time of her life, and from then on knew that performing was the only thing she ever wanted to do. Four years later, she was on the cover ofVogue. Afterthat, she was accepted into Julliard. In retrospect, that timeline was nearly unbelievable.

Right now, sitting in her trailer on set, she imagined what she would say to that blossoming performer in pan-stick foundation and a cheap bowler hat. Could she say that she had “made it?”

Career-wise, yes. She had been so successful in comedy that widening the scope of her projects was seen as revolutionary.

Personally?

She had very few friends,actualfriends instead of people who just wanted to go to parties with her. She was seen by the public as a modern, liberated blonde bombshell, which in their minds just meant sex positive and willing to wear suits every so often.

Now, she used her money, privately, to get whatever she wanted, hence the vintage collection. It was a fascination and a good hobby for her to have. It kept her mind busy, and on the days when things were difficult, it helped. Things were getting more and more difficult on set, especially now that she and Cameron had...

She had gotten what she had wanted the entire time. She reminded herself this as she took the brass lighter, holding it to a candle that made the entire trailer smell of jasmine and oud. The wick of the candle crackled before falling into a silent burn. The heady, war, scent filled the room as Goldie thought deeply. Hercase file lay on the table, abandoned in favor of daydreams and fantasy. Cameron was a verytalentedwoman, that was for sure. She had the power of overtaking Goldie’s mind.

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