Leah talked Trudy into going with her—but not before Trudy made her come clean about her relationship with Michael.
“Dammit! I knew it!” Trudy shouted, hurling her straw cowboy hat to the ground and punching her hands to her hips. “I wanted him. He’s so hot, and he likes my style. But girl, I have to be honest—I have a sixth sense about these things. You really shouldn’t lie to your best friends.”
“I didn’t lie,” Leah said with a laugh, and stooped down to pick up Trudy’s hat. “It really was a long time ago. I haven’t seen him in years.”
“Oh yeah? So how do you go from not seeing some guy for years to being an item?”
“Well . . . apparently he was thinking about me all that time,” she said as a sheepish but gleeful little grin curved her lips.
Trudy suddenly thrust forward, her face in Leah’s. “And just what was he thinking?” she asked with a salacious grin.
“Shut up,” Leah said, pushing Trudy when she handed her the hat.
“I won’t shut up. Come on, come on, tell me!” Trudy pouted. “You know I live vicariously through you. The only thing Rick ever thinks about is what he’s going to eat and when he’s going to get laid, in that order,” she said, swiping the hat from Leah’s hand.
“Well . . . he said that he can still taste me, and he can still smell me, and feel me, and that basically, he would walk through fire to come back to me. But a lot more eloquently than that.”
“Oh. My. God!” Trudy shrieked, and bent backward so far that Leah was afraid she’d fall before bouncing back up, her brown eyes blazing. “That incredibly gorgeous man said that to you?” she cried.
“Hey! Don’t sound so shocked.”
“Oh girl, I am shocked right out of my shorts, but worse, I am also pea green with envy. Tell me more.”
“Well . . . he’s taking me to the premiere of The Hero. And he has given me the name of a costumer who will put me in a dress for it. And that’s where I am going now, and you are invited . . . if you want to come.”
Trudy’s eyes went wide, and then she let out a whoop and linked her arm through Leah’s. “Are you kidding? Of course I want to come. Good for you, sweetie—you deserve this. Everyone should have one great love in their life. So let’s go. I want to see what you’re going to wear.”
Leah hadn’t actually said anything about one great love. She was privately afraid to say anything like that, afraid of putting labels on the white flag she’d held up to Michael. Nor did she want to be too hopeful, or disinter any intense feelings of love. Even if she managed to do it, and she wasn’t certain she could, she wasn’t sure she could trust Michael. And if something awful happened, she was one hundred percent sure she could not survive emotionally. Best not to go there at all. Best just to take this one baby step at a time.
Starting with a fabulous new dress and a Hollywood premiere.
So she let Trudy drag her to her car and drove to the workshop, where Michael’s friend was expecting them.
“Hi, I’m Beverly,” she said as Trudy and Leah opened the door and stepped in. “You must be Michael’s latest, right?” she asked cheerfully.
That was such an odd thing to say that Leah didn’t know how to respond. So Trudy did it for her. “She’s Michael’s last,” she said with great authority.
“Oh,” Beverly said, and the fact that her eyebrows nearly reached her hairline did not give Leah a good feeling. But Trudy was dragging her into the middle of the studio and a rack of clothes.
“Ohmigod, these are gorgeous!” she exclaimed. “Do you sell them?”
“Not really,” Beverly said as she walked over to stand next to Leah. “Every so often I will. I usually end up using them on a film somewhere.” She looked at Leah. “So are you Michael’s fiancée?” she asked with a twinge of incredulity in her voice.
“Oh no,” Leah said, and shook her head, laughed as if that was hilarious. “I’m really just a . . . ah . . . a friend. My name is Leah.”
“Nice to meet you, Leah. You’re lucky. Michael doesn’t usually do this for his friends.”
What did that mean?
“Help yourself. This rack over here probably has something more appropriate for a major studio premiere,” she said, pointing to the corner.
Leah and Trudy instantly made their way to the rack Beverly had indicated and started sorting through beautiful dresses and gowns.
“Why can’t I ever get a role where the character wears this sort of thing?” Leah sighed as they looked through. “Why do I get the role where I have to wear camouflage gear or bathrobes?”
“At least you have a part in a movie,” Trudy said. “Think of all the poor schlubs in America who never get to come to a shop like this. Are we lucky, or what?” She picked up a floor-length yellow chiffon number and held it up to Leah.