Page 24 of The Manor of Dreams

He was silent and Vivian looked up.

He smiled. “Bored to death, are you?”

Heat flooded her cheeks as his words drifted in. “Oh!” She blurted out. Had she offended him? “No, I don’t meanthat, I mean—” She searched for words. English could escape her when she was nervous. “I haven’t been sleeping good lately. That’s all. This is wonderful.” She searched his eyes. They glittered mischievously.

“I was just giving you a hard time. Don’t worry. I’d be happy to get you another one if it’ll keep you out longer?”

She smiled politely. “I’m okay with just one.” She hurriedly added, “Thank you, though.”

He looked at her thoughtfully. Vivian felt like she was under a spotlight. She wondered if he was going to start asking her questions, the ones the others did when they were drunk, or sober, if they were the more brazen type. Would he ask her where she was from or just start guessing?

Instead, he held out his hand. “I’m Richard Lowell. It’s nice to meet you.”

Richard Lowell. That name sounded familiar, but she couldn’t remember why. He had to be an actor. She shook his hand. “Vivian Yin.”

“I figured,” he said. “You were great inSong of Lovers, by the way. A brilliant performance. You’re a natural.”

Vivian lowered her eyes. English-speaking movies were new for her, but she had more experience than people imagined. She’d been training since childhood and acting in operas all her life. What surprised her was that he recognized her. And watched her movie. “We had a great director,” she demurred.

“Sure, I know Don Corcoran’s work. But it takes a certain beautiful talent to bring his vision to life.”

The air between them stilled. Vivian looked up.Ah.Heat bloomed up her neck and across her cheeks. She hadn’t flirted in a long time, but here she was. “Well, I’m glad you saw it,” she said, offering what she hoped was a beguiling smile.

“Of course.” He took a breath. Vivian fidgeted with her glass, trying to think of what to say next. Her heart raced and she was very, very awake now. She watched him take out a pen from his inner suit pocket. He wrote something on the napkin and slipped it to her, face down.

“What’s this?”

“I don’t want to keep you up. But I would love a chance to chat with you more about movies. Give me a call if you happen to have some free time tomorrow. If you’d like.” Vivian could see that he was starting to get flustered. It thrilled her to see the boyish tinge of pink on his cheeks.

“That would be nice,” she said. “Well, it is good to meet you, Richard.”

“Likewise.” He looked at her, hesitantly, then again, and slipped away into the crowd. Vivian clutched the napkin dizzily as Daisy fluttered back to the table. How she could walk in such high heels, Vivian had no clue. Her co-star was a natural on the red carpet. Her dress’s sequins flowed like liquid gold over her curves.

“Oh. My.God.What did Richard Lowell say to you?”

Vivian looked up. “What movie is he in?”

“Vivian!” Daisy arched a thick eyebrow. “He was inThe Great Gatsby. He knowseveryone.”

“Oh.” And it hit her then thathewas Hollywood’s new rising star, barely under thirty, or around it. She’d heard her own notoriously difficult director discussing him like he was a beloved son.

“Tell meeverything,” Daisy whispered, tucking her hair behind her ears. “What did he want from you?”

Vivian considered what she’d say. She didn’t want rumors to swirl, not while she was just about to head home. “Nothing much. Just wanted to tell me he watched our movie and appreciated my performance.” Her hand was under the table, his phone number clutched in her sweaty palm. “I was thinking I might take a taxi home.”

“Aw.” Daisy frowned. “You’re okay?”

Vivian gave her a smile and matched Daisy’s warm tone. “Fabulous.” Daisy liked saying that.

“If you say so.” Daisy smiled back and blew a kiss.

“Good night,” Vivian said. She wobbled toward the entrance on her lower, but still-terribly-painful heels.

Back in her hotel, it was too late to call home, so she filled the tub with water and soap and stretched out her limbs. She reveled in the space. This one hotel room was the size of her aunt’s apartment. She held the napkin up to the light. The faintest bit of his cologne still lingered on it, and something inside Vivian unfurled at the scent.

She went to bed with the napkin on her nightstand. In the morning she woke up early and stared at his phone number.

At the very least, it was smart to get to know someone well-connected in the industry. Especially one who thought she was talented. But that wasn’t the only thought pushing her to reach for the phone.

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