Did You Hear About Kitty Karr?

“Where are you from, Miss Karr?”

She fought to focus. “Boston.”

“I went to college in New York but never made the trip to Boston.” He spoke like it was the most absurd thing.

“I’m sure you were busy with your studies.”

“I was. Everyone else was partying and chasing girls; I was making films.” He opened a window. “Lucy Schmitt gave me your feedback on Windfall. Said you’d be perfect for what I’m trying to institute here.” He finished his drink in one sip and started pacing the room. “You’ve been onstage most nights, yes?”

“I go after my day in the telephone room.”

“That’s a long day.”

“I enjoy it.”

“What about film interests you?”

“Everything. I grew up going to the movies and writing stories.”

“Were your parents entertainers?”

“No, but we went to the movies a lot. My sister and I would make up our own stories.”

“So you write?” He was surprised.

“Yes.”

“What have you read on our roster?” He palmed a tall stack of scripts on his desk.

“All of this season of Windfall, Last Loop, Around Town, and Misty Rain.”

“What are your thoughts on our material now?”

He stared as if he couldn’t wait for her to speak, which made her nervous and caused her to blurt out the truth. “Predictable.”

He groaned as though he knew it was true.

“But that’s what viewers like.” Kitty tried to soften her critique. “People go to the movies to escape, to make the world make sense.”

He circled her chair and his desk as he relayed his own theory. “Our stories feel stale. My father is a great man, but Telescope is behind the curve. We have to grow, or the others are going to take us over. People will be kicking and screaming the whole way, but it will be better in the long run. There’s a lot more everyone can be doing, even the secretaries, which is where you come in. Gone are the days when we can afford to have secretaries who just answer phones.”

Kitty agreed. “We have operators for that.”

He touched her shoulder as he passed, beginning his fifth loop. “Exactly. Secretaries need to be involved in the day-to-day operations of the studio. They need to be Janes-of-all-trades, capable of pitching in anywhere the studio needs them, whether that’s reading scripts or taking dictation or being on the set. Higher level of skill. That’s the reason for the change. Everyone has something to contribute.” He sat down at his desk and took a deep breath. “And we need new voices. New writers.”

Nathan griped for another twenty minutes about how the firings, of the older secretaries in particular, had caused an uproar in the press. Every article referenced Nathan’s limited experience as the impetus for his lofty dreams. “They should be talking about The Misfits—which I was told, before I started, was a highly anticipated feature, but I got here and learned the script is shit. We have to make them care about our art again, Kitty. I want this studio to be the first one anyone ever thinks about when they think about film.”

His optimism excited her. She’d never met someone so positive about the future. “I’m ready.”

He reached to shake her hand but stopped short. “I need a right hand. Someone to accompany me to meetings, castings, and filmings. Keep me organized and informed of new material. You should be my eyes and ears. I’ll throw at you as much as you can handle.”

“Okay.”

“You’re hired.” He went for her hand again, and warmth cascaded down her body as they shook. “Charles and Lucy think the world of you.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Please, call me Nathan.”

“Kitty, then.”

She closed his door with a smile that spread from ear to ear. She tried to hide it before walking past the receptionist, but it grew until she was showing teeth and bidding the older lady au revoir.



* * *



Emma blocked Kitty’s entry into their house. “How did you hear about the interviews?”

“There weren’t interviews. I was offered an interview.”

Emma let her inside and slammed the door. “So you’ve met Lucy Schmitt.”

“Weeks ago.”

“I told you to stay away from them.”

“You never told me who they were. I met her on the Windfall set.”

“If you didn’t know Lucy was one of them, why didn’t you tell me about the interviews?”

“Because I was told not to. ‘Going to set and being more involved in the creative process’ was a test for everyone.”

Emma ignored that and put her hands on her hips. “What did Lucy tell you about me?”

“You haven’t come up.” Kitty was curious to hear Emma’s side of things without influence.

“Don’t you think it’s strange she didn’t tell you we knew each other?”

“We talk about film.”

“I bet she told you she’s Colored, though, didn’t she?”

“Only the other day.”

Emma chuckled before taking another sip of her drink. “She’s incredible. You don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into.”

“Then tell me,” Kitty said, daring her. “Everything we do affects the other, remember?”

“This happened before you got here.”

“Then why are you so mad we’re friends?”

“A year ago, I was engaged to Lincoln Harrison—the head of casting at Fox. Lucy and Cora were jealous and went about ruining my life.”

“Cora Rivers?”

“Yes, she’s passing too.” Emma grinned off Kitty’s surprise. “Lucy didn’t tell you that because she wants to befriend you first. Then she’ll introduce you to Cora, who will set you up with a man so they can get close enough to him to use you both.”

“Do you think that’s why I got the interview with Nathan?”

“I’m sure. They put thoughts in Lincoln’s head about me and a Negro actor, Jamie Harris, who Lucy said was her cousin. She wanted me to help get him in front of Lincoln. I was helping him prepare for the audition, so we were spending a lot of time together. He was funny and into the same books I was. Then Lincoln broke off the engagement, wouldn’t talk to me. Just like that.”

“Was there something going on between you and the actor?”

Emma looked crushed to be asked. “I wouldn’t have jeopardized a life with Lincoln for anyone. I still love him.”

Lincoln had later admitted he hadn’t liked the way Emma entertained the Negro man’s jokes. Although he knew their relationship was innocent, he couldn’t shake the inevitable fact that would accompany his old age: his younger wife’s sexual interest in younger men. He bought Emma the quadruplex on Orange Drive to apologize for his immaturity. But he never reinstated their engagement.

“So your father didn’t buy this place? Lucy told me he owns Holden’s.”

“I haven’t seen my father since I was sixteen. He doesn’t know if I’m dead or alive, and I doubt he cares.” It was one of the few moments of rare honesty Kitty had ever witnessed from Emma. When her sadness grew overwhelming, as it sometimes did, Emma became real, as if the pain stripped away her cover. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to talk about Lucy and Cora.”

“That’s why you wouldn’t take me on a tour.”

“Yes, but she found you anyway. I thought she’d be off the lot with production shut down.”

Kitty was happy to be found. She and Lucy had things in common that had nothing to do with being Negro—things that were far more important than being Negro, and that she didn’t have in common with Emma. “She’s working television.”

“Be careful.”

“She got me a job.”

“She got me one, too, and later, she needed a favor. She’ll need one from you someday. She and Cora are asking for trouble, the way they go back and forth over the color line.”

“I bet if they helped you meet Nathan you wouldn’t mind.”

“Maybe, but I have you for that now.”





CHAPTER 19

Kitty




Kitty arrived at the executive suite on her first day that next week to find a tower of scripts on her desk.

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