Page 3 of To the Moon and Back

“You can, but why?” Alika drew out the last word. Carly couldimagine Alika’s hair vibrating the way it did when she was frustrated. “Wouldyou rather float around in your pool some more and sip mimosas? I can let youget back to that. I have other clients who are interested in working.” One ofCarly’s favorite things about Alika was that she rarely sucked up and insteadtold it like it was. “Or we can begin building your career back to what it was,one brick at a time. The McAllister is a brick, baby girl.”

Why did Alika have to be so tell-it-like-it-is? Carly sighed andtapped her countertop about eight hundred times. Her pool guy stole anotherglance at her in her bikini, and she closed her sheer cover-up tighter aroundher body. “Fine. Take the offer. There’s a dude gawking openly at my breasts,and I’d like to say something positive happened today.”

“Gawking at you? What else is new?” Alika chuckled. “Report hisass to his supervisor immediately. Also, as your friend, I’m happy you see thelight. I’ll send over the contract as soon as I have it. This is the rightmove. The McAllister is big.”

“When do I have to be in—I’m sorry, where the hell am I going,again?”

“Minneapolis. They want you there for the first rehearsal nextweek. The theater will be in touch to arrange your travel once we’ve signed.Start flexing that acting muscle again.”

“On it. Maybe you’ll visit?”

“Doubtful. I must wheel and deal so we can all eat.”

Carly sighed as she tried to keep up, tried to imagine waking upin Minneapolis next week, and tried not to swear in frustration at her agent,who was merely the messenger. “Alika. Level with me. Is this whole thing reallynecessary? I mean, can’t we just send Warner Brothers a fruit basket and hopethey tell the others?”

“Baby girl, if you want to see your career ever again, then I’dsay yes, you need to pay some dues. Fruit baskets can be for later.”

It wasn’t how she’d imagined she’d spend the next three months ofher life, but then when had life ever been predictable? She’d go to Minnesota,of all places, hang out at an old boring theater, and show everyone in showbusiness that, after everything, she was a safe bet. That was right. CarlyDaniel would play ball, and she’d play it well. Maybe she’d even make a newfriend or two in Minneapolis. That part, she’d never had trouble with.

She harnessed all her energy. “All right. Next week it is. Do youhave a script for me?”

“I’ll send it right over. And Carly? This is the right move. Yougotta trust me on this. It’s a desert out there for you. You’re crawling onyour hands and knees in search of water.”

“Jesus, that’s a depressing image.”

“It’s your life. Seek out that oasis. It’s in Minneapolis.”

Carly clicked off the call and caught her reflection in the glass.She pulled her blond hair from the clip holding it back and felt it tumble downpast her shoulder blades. She stared out at her infinity pool that overlookedall of the Hollywood Hills. It was August. She had maybe six months until shecouldn’t afford this house any longer, unless something changed. Life was aboutto shift dramatically for her, but Carly was up for it. She wondered whatMinneapolis was like in the fall.

* * *

Ten minutes to actor call time and every single last one of themhad already signed in. What had Lauren done to deserve such a smooth finalperformance? Her little stage manager heart swelled with pride. No phone callsto make. No one to track down. No tardy entries on that performance report. Shecelebrated the victories when they happened.

Following today,Intothe Woodswould fade into history and Lauren had some time off. Shewould take a weekend trip to Cancun, lie on a beautiful beach, take in thecrystal blue waters, and who knew? Maybe she’d meet a nice woman at a bar forsome after-hours fun. The other resident production stage manager, Matthew theGreat, would take over the driver’s seat as PSM on a new play going intorehearsal at The McAllister,StarryNights, scheduled to run for four weeks in the fall. She’d return toPSM the Christmas show, which would go into rehearsal in just over a month,onceStarry Nightsmoved to the stage. Between now and then, she’d find out what it felt like tobe a person again, a real live one with a life.

“Got a sec, Lauren?”

“Hey, Wilks.” Nolan Wilks was the artistic director of TheMcAllister and responsible for keeping the whole engine moving. In other words,her boss, and a very capable one. “What’s up? I’m approaching half hour so Idon’t have a ton of time to talk, unfortunately.”

He straightened his polo shirt as if it were a tie. She smotheredan affectionate grin. “You’re going to hate me, but you might just have to hateme. Are you ready to hate me?”

She stared at him, checked her watch, and held up one finger toplace him on hold. She pressed a button on the microphone in the booth andleaned toward it. “Ladies and gentleman, half hour until curtain. This is your halfhour.” Refocusing on Wilks, she prepared herself. “Please don’t make me hateyou. I much prefer celebrating you as headmaster over all of Hogwarts.” Shesmiled at him but wondered what in the world was going on if he was stormingthe booth at half hour.

“I need you forStarryNights.”

She swallowed. “No, you don’t. You and I both know I’ll be on thatmuch needed vacation. That means me, a beach, and the tiniest of umbrellas inmy glass. Picture it, and please don’t say any more. This is my time away, andI’m in love with it. We’re getting married.”

“Time you very much deserve.” He paused. She stared. They repeatedthe process. “But I need you, and you know I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t thatimportant.”

She took a moment. “I don’t understand. Matty’s on it. Matty isfully capable.” Matthew the Great was a decent enough production stage manager.Reliable, focused. True, he didn’t always know the best way to defuse ahot-button situation, but his organizational skills had earned him hisnickname. His series of personally developed charts and spreadsheets hadchanged Lauren’s PSM life for the better. Plus, Matty could track a prop’sjourney onstage like no one she’d ever met.

Wilks rubbed his forehead. “I’m not sure he’s right for this one.We have a high-profile cast member, and I need someone with a delicate touch.”

Lauren frowned. “But that’s not at all unusual. Pretty much everyother production has someone famous headlining. We’ve worked with Meryl Streep,for God’s sakes. Matty can handle famous.”

“It’s not unusual, no,” Wilks said. “But from what I’ve read thismorning of Carly Daniel, she can be a handful.”

Lauren blinked. Carly Daniel? Of course she knew of her. She’dbeen a much talked about film actress who was everyone’s favorite in Hollywooduntil recently. It all came back to her. Sometime last year, a series ofarticles about her misbehavior on sets swarmed the gossip rags, and as aresult, she’d been MIA onscreen. Lauren looked to Wilks, incredulous. “Who’sdirectingStarry Nights?”The real question was who the hell had cast a party girl to come and headlineat a show at the esteemed McAllister Theater, of all places?

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