Anne Girard - Platinum Doll

Harlean finally joined in and shimmied to the end of the tune, when they all collapsed back onto the sofa. Irene introduced her friend then, a dark-eyed and exotic-looking girl named Katie. Her father was a powerful director, Cecil B. DeMille. As they were introduced, Harlean tried hard not to gape at the two spirited girls whose fathers practically owned Hollywood.

“Well, there are certainly no dance stars among the lot of us!” Katie DeMille sighed as she dabbed her face with the back of her hand.

“Probably no stars at all,” Irene added.

“I don’t know if I’d say that’s true,” Rosalie countered. “Last week, Harlean here got a personal letter of introduction written to the head of Central Casting from two Fox executives, and she wasn’t even trying. She was just sitting in the car waiting for me to check the rolls. They said she had ‘the look.’”

“They did not!” Irene exclaimed.

“Dave Allen is the head of Central Casting, I know him quite well. He’s a close friend of my father’s,” said Katie DeMille as her smile gave way to a more measured expression. “Dave is not easily swayed. What’d he have to say when you got there?”

“I didn’t go.”

“What do you mean, you didn’t go?” Irene Mayer gasped. She perked up and sat forward on the sofa. Her eyes grew wide. “That’s absolutely crazy!”

“He wouldn’t hire her right off the street like that anyway,” Katie blandly countered.

“I bet you wouldn’t have the nerve to go and see,” Irene added. “Especially since you’ve waited all this time, it would just be awkward now.”

“That’s probably true,” Rosalie chimed with a laugh. Harlean could tell she was trying to keep things light. “And casting offices are busy places. They’ve probably forgotten all about you by now.”

Harlean huffed in response to being ganged up on. Faced with condescension, it ignited her fighting spirit. “What would you like to bet?” she asked Irene.

Katie and Rosalie exchanged a glance. “We were only teasing,” Rosalie said.

“You mentioned a bet, let’s bet.”

Even though Harlean was smiling she could tell that they all felt the shift in her tone.

“All right,” Irene cautiously replied. “What do you want if I’m wrong?”

She glanced up at the lovely pearl brooch attached to Irene’s collar. “How ’bout that?”

Mayer’s eyes widened just slightly. Beyond that, she hid her surprise well. “You’ll never go through with it, so sure. But the brooch it is. And if I’m right and you don’t find the nerve, one of those beautiful orchids, hand delivered by you to my doorstep once a month for a year.”

Harlean fought a smile. Irene didn’t know what a poor choice it was to bet against her. She wouldn’t really take personal jewelry even after she had won the wager, she wasn’t that cruel. But she might borrow it for a day or two just to make a point. One thing was sure, she reveled in the moment where Louis B. Mayer’s daughter couldn’t be quite sure.

After the evening was at an end, and the guests happily stumbled out to their cars, Ivor and Rosalie followed Chuck and Harlean back inside. Chuck had invited them to stay for a nightcap. At least that had been his proposal before he realized they were out of alcohol. As Harlean and Rosalie took stock in the kitchen, they found that every last morsel of food, and every drop of liquor, had been consumed.

“Man, those boys can drink,” Chuck sighed, turning over a bottle of wine left on the kitchen counter to see if there was even a drop left inside.

“We held our own,” Ivor returned with a snicker as he slung his arm fraternally over Chuck’s shoulder.

“You sure did,” Rosalie added. “You’re both more than a little drunk.”

“Aw, don’t be a spoilsport, Rosie. We were all just havin’ fun,” Ivor replied with a smile as he smacked a breezy kiss onto her cheek. “Besides, Chuck and I can’t have those boys thinking we can’t keep up.”

She frowned at him in response and pretended to wipe his kiss away but she did not try to conceal her real affection for him.

Harlean walked back into the living room to begin cleaning up, and Rosalie followed her. There were dirty dishes and glassware scattered everywhere. The pungent odor of cigarettes was strong.

“I can’t believe you started that whole thing,” Harlean said as she collected the plates and Rosalie gathered up the glasses.

“Started what?”

“The challenge.”

Rosalie bit back a smile. “I didn’t. Irene did. But obviously that was an opportunity not to be missed. Besides, it’d be worth it just to see the look on Katie DeMille’s face if you went through with it, since she claims to know Dave Allen so well.”

“You don’t think I’ll do it, do you?”

“I don’t know. Will you?”

“Chuck wouldn’t want me to, I know that. He always thought my mother had been foolish to try to break into Hollywood.”

“Well, he wouldn’t even have to know.”

Harlean took the plates back into the kitchen and set them on the counter. When she glanced through the window over the sink, she saw Chuck and Ivor on the patio now. They were looking up at the sky and talking. “You think I should lie to my husband?”

“It’s not like he always tells you the truth. Weren’t you just telling me you have no idea what he does all day when he leaves the house?”

“I assumed he was with Ivor.”

“Not all the time.”

“Chuck wouldn’t cheat on me.”

“Of course not, honey. Any fool can see he’s crazy about you. I only meant, even married people have their secrets. It keeps things fresh.”

She turned on the tap, feeling a sudden flare of anger and doubt. She was trying to learn from Rosalie but Harlean, who was still only seventeen, wasn’t as confident as she knew she could make herself appear, and she hated other people knowing it. Mother always said, Look confident, Baby, and you will be confident.

“What’s the point, anyway? It’s not like I actually want to be an actress.”

“There’s always a point to accepting a dare. Be bold, be daring!” Rosalie exclaimed, and her brown eyes glittered.

Outside, Chuck and Ivor laughed suddenly about something the girls couldn’t hear.

“They have their little secrets, we should have ours,” Rosalie declared.

“All right.”

“You’ll do it?”

“Why not?”

And that really was the point. Harlean couldn’t think of any good reason not to do it. She certainly didn’t have anything else interesting to do with her days. It was crazy, surely. But, who knew, maybe it would be fun. And it would be great to win a bet with Louis B. Mayer’s slightly condescending daughter, and shock the daughter of Cecil B. DeMille, both at the same time. But more than that, this might just be an occasion to see if a bit of Rosalie’s awe-inspiring self-confidence had rubbed off on her. Her proclaimed disdain for the Hollywood studio system was from her mother’s experience, her fear of what it did to young women belonged to Chuck. Having a secret for a while might just afford her the ability to challenge herself and, for the first time, decide on her own how she actually felt about it all.

Chapter Five

What are you staring at?

Harlean felt a spark of indignation as she parked outside the Central Casting office at the corner of Hollywood Boulevard and Western Avenue. More than a few people passing by gave her a double take. So the car was a bit flashy, and her white silk suit looked expensive, but all of the attention was unnerving. She was already starting to second-guess coming here. She clutched the key in a death grip as she emerged from the car. Her knees were weak. She should never have stooped to a bet like this. What was she thinking? That was precisely what she got for having had a drink last night.