Secrets of a Soap Opera Diva (34 page)

“It wasn’t hard to do. He let me fly and do my thing in every direction.”

“And he knows you’ve taken a lot of heat for that. Calysta, our family business is in crisis. We could lose control of
The Rich and the Ruthless
and
The
Daring and the Damned
if we don’t move quickly, and my father desperately needs your help. We all do, with the exception of my brother.”

“What can
I
do?”

“Wednesday morning there’s a very important vote that will determine the future of Barringer Dramatic Series. Auggie hates the business, he’s been trying to get Dad to sell the soaps for years.”

“For real?”

“For real. Anything that disturbs his golf game or partying, he wants nothing to do with. He’s defiantly created an alliance with Edith and Randall to sell Dad’s shows for millions. And where most people would jump at the opportunity, Dad’s legacy is not for sale. Mother
and I are voting against it. Dad, knowing he’s in serious condition, called his attorney and asked me to give this to you.”

“What is it?”

“Open it.”

I slowly opened the padded envelope containing a black leather binder; the quality paper oozed rich. I read each page carefully before asking, “Is this what I think it is?”

“Yes, Dad wants you to be his proxy for Wednesday’s meeting.”

“Ohmygod, Veronica, are you serious? Why me?”

“Keep reading.”

Opening a sealed envelope bearing my calligraphed name, I read:

My Dearest Calysta,

Thank you for all your get-well cards, the donation to Hollygrove, and the box of Godiva chocolates. They were as divine as you were thoughtful.

By the time you receive this letter, you’ll have met with Veronica and know what an enormous favor I’m asking. And even as you, my dear, struggle with a different kind of illness, and hope all is on the upswing, there’s no one I’d rather have cast my vote. You’ve given everything you possibly could to make our show a success and given me such infinite joy and inspiration, thus I want to show my appreciation. Where I could not buy you a Sudsy, I can give you power. These are uncertain times, but knowing the future of my shows rests in your capable hands gives me hope and a sense of satisfaction for what you’ve endured.

Finally, my attorney, Mason Oppenheimer, has made a special provision. If at any time you wish to reprise your role as Ruby Stargazer it would be welcomed with open arms.

Affectionately,

Augustus Barringer

I looked up at Veronica bleary-eyed and said, “I’d be honored but how can I? I’m stuck here for five more weeks.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve made arrangements with Pat Quigley and he’s sending a sober coach, Kelly Lava, to Century City with you. I’ll send a car and there’s already a business suit hanging in your room. My family thanks you in advance.

“Not a word to Toby,” she said, hugging me good-bye, leaving me with a lot to process.

Nothing earth-shattering, but thought you kids would like to know cat hair was flying on the set of The Rich and the Ruthless last Wednesday. Soap snitch Emmy Abernathy (Gina Chiccetelli, R&R) reported that Maeve Fielding (Lady Leslie Lovekin, R&R) was smoking in her dressing room again, causing a firestorm of sailor-switchblade-swearing between the pair during the annual cast photo shoot.

Naturally, both muscled their way to the front row, smiling for the camera.

The Diva

F
izzing with anger, Shannen burst into her dressing room to find Grandma Jones eating the last bites of a cheeseburger.

“That Weezi is so nice. He went and got me lunch and everything,” she said as Shannen slammed the door.

“I hate this show!” she spat.

“What happened? Last I saw you, you were as happy as a clam.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not happy anymore, Mrs. Jones. That bit—”

“Watch your mouth, now. Slow down,” Grandma Jones said, patting Shannen’s arm.

“That creepy Felicia is up to her antics again,
sabotaging
my character!”

Grandma Jones sat transfixed, hanging on to every word while eating her French fries as though watching the soap itself.

“Go on,” she encouraged.

“They’re putting me in a coma!”

“How?”

“Well, according to Felicia, she’s our head writer, the
R&R
blog is going nuts, the fans hate the JusPe pairing.”

“Oh, what a shame. I liked you two together.”

“And then she went on to say that
R&R
can’t afford to lose any more audience, so the show’s decided to go with the storyline they were saving for Sweeps, that’s when . . . never mind. Anyway, she said, and I quote, I have to pinch my nose first to sound like her, ‘It’s a sizzler, by the way, premium front-burner stuff.’”

“Go on.”

“Then she stood up and came around her desk and actually attempted to act out the scene. ‘You’re upset, you find out Pepe is having an affair with Gina Chiccetelli . . .’”

“Keep goin’, this is gettin’ good.”

“After I catch Pepe and Gina in bed, and by the way I hate Emmy Abernathy, I get in a car, and I hate car scenes, they always look so fake with the fake scenery and two stagehands rocking the car back and forth and that faker-than-fake twirly light that makes it look like another fake car is passing in the opposite direction. I just
hate
it!”

“Oh, I wish you hadn’t told me all that, Shannen. Kinda spoils it for me now. Anyway, I need to know what happens next?”

“Okay, I speed down Whitehaven Highway, around Fink Rotary and onto Lovekin Lane narrowly missing a bus, then crash into a light pole. Felicia lied, saying, ‘It’s going to be
so
dramatic.’ Predicting I’d get a Sudsy nod. She’s so nauseating. Anyway, I just had to tell her that the whole thing sounded like Calysta’s real-life accident and you know what she said?”

Taking another French fry, Grandma Jones, eyes wide with anticipation, said, “No, chile. And don’t leave me hangin’.”

“‘I guess it’s in the universe.’ That’s what she said. Can you believe it? She stole a real-life chapter right out of Calysta’s life and put it on the page. Just disgusting.”

“I always said show business is for freaks and strange folk but let’s get to the end.”

“That witch told me I get into a fantastic diabolical car crash and flip three times—”

“Oh, my word, I’ve gotta call Whilemina and Odile right away.”

“Wait, there’s more, Mrs. Jones. And this is the kicker,” said an unraveling Shannen. “The car explodes into a fiery blaze—”

“I don’t think I can take much more,” Candelaria said, falling back into the couch.

“It’s just plain vicious. Maiming
me
of all people, wrapping me in miles of hideous gauze bandages like a mummy for weeks. You’d never know I was the one voted ‘Most Beautiful’ on the show by
Cliffhanger Weekly
.”

“And . . .”

“And then I go into a coma.”

Riveted, Grandma Jones asked, “For how long?”

“Indefinitely!”

“That don’t sound too bad to me, layin’ around collectin’ a check.”

“We’re back,” the stage manager shouted over the loudspeaker. “Wolfe, Emmy, Shannen, Ethan, Jade, Maeve, Javier, and all the extras
.
Item twenty-three, Vinn Hansen Ranch, be camera ready.”

“Oh gawd, gotta get ready.”

“Need any help?”

“No, it’ll just take me a sec to fix my makeup and then we’ll go back to the set.”

“No, chile, I’m gonna sit right here, finish my fries, and watch the
story
on your TV.”

“Are you sure?”

“I don’t want to get in the way. Sorry you’re not happy with what
they’re givin’ you to do, but try to look at the glass half full instead of half empty, there are folks out there who would break their necks to be in your shoes.”

“I guess, Mrs. Jones,” Shannen said, finishing applying her mascara. “I’ll try to look on the bright side, can’t get any worse than this.”

“Okay, everybody, let’s get in the dinghy, places,” the stage manager called.

“Um, cast, there’s been a little change in plans,” Julius announced, standing on the stage. “Alison’s going to join us after all, so her lines are back in the script,” he said to disgruntled actors.

In oversize Versace sunglasses, the soap diva shuffled onto the set looking like a whole bowl of crazy in her worn SpongeBob slippers, her strappy Rossi sandals dangling in one hand, stuffed into an Emilio Pucci one-piece and support hose without a wrap.

“Sorry, everybody, I had a colossal migraine.”

“Alison, darling,” Wolfe said, “I’m so happy you’re feeling better now,” then under his breath, “
Suit min pik, kœlling
.”

“Besides, Phillip asked that we take the scene from the top to build momentum and so that he could get
all
his lines in this time,” Julius added, throwing Phillip under the bus and dragging him.

“For fanden da ogsa, dot pikfœs,”
Wolfe cursed in Danish.

“
Wah wah wah
,” Maeve poked.

“Why are we starting from the top again? I nailed that scene before lunch,” Shannen complained. “What if my next take sucks and you use that one? It’s not fair. Phillip, the only reason you want to take it from the top is because you want to figure out where you can
cry
in it. You’re such a player hater.”

Clapping his
R&R
script binder shut, Phillip barked, “If you people weren’t so unprofessional, we would have been on to the next scene eons ago. But so many of you come to work unprepared; not knowing your
lines, changing the tag, stepping on dialogue, adlibbing, coughing, showboating half-naked, taking up precious time getting tattoos covered. Not one of you could ever be in Connecticut summer stock. Let’s go!”

“Vhy you pompous—” Wolfe began, stepping forward with balled fists.

“Okay, guys, come on, we’ve got a show to do,” the stage manager said. “Five, four, three, two,
go
!”

VIDAL


Vonderful day for a BBQ on the Vinn Hansen Ranch, vouldn’t you say, Fink?


BARRETT


Just dandy, Vidal.


VIDAL


(Gloating)


Even vith the skyrocketing price of vheat, my international biscuit business is thriving. Sorry to hear you had to fire vun hundred and fifty-two employees last veek.


BARRETT


Actually, that’s not—


JUSTINE


(Heavy flirtation with Vidal, swiping him with her voluptuous chest. Feature her bikini top. Make sure fans are on high to give her a windswept look)


Vidal, there you are. I have something red and juicy to share with you.


VIDAL


Ah, my pet, my vision of loveliness. I am breathless vith anticipation.


RORY


You nympho, stay away from him, Vidal and I are getting back together.


JUSTINE


Don’t worry, Rory, I’m with Pepe now.


RORY


Isn’t he Barrett’s gardener? Wow, Justine, you’re really slumming now. Why am I not surprised?


VIDAL


(Much innuendo)


Rory, my love, vhy don’t you go lounge by the pool and I’ll be there in a moment to massage sunscreen into your beautiful body?


RORY


(Melting)


I’ll be waiting.


WILSON TURNER


Excuse me, Miss Rory. Here’s your martini.


RORY


Thank you, Willie, you’re right on time.


(Rory walks away toward Lady Leslie Lovekin and other guests around pool)


VIDAL


(Turning back to Justine)


Now I believe you had something red and juicy for me?


JUSTINE


(Suggestively whips out a super-size chocolate-covered strawberry and puts it between her teeth)


Bite it, Vidal. Bite it quick before Rory and Pepe see us.


“
Bite this
!” Roger Cabott shrieked from across the room, firing a wild shot into the backdrop of the ranch set. Extras scrambled, running for their lives screaming. Holding the Colt .45 with two hands, he aimed it at Shannen.

“What the
hell
?” Turning to the script supervisor, Julius said, “I don’t remember this being in the scene.”

“It’s not,” she replied, putting down her nail file. “I’m calling security.”

“You guys keep rolling those cameras out there, do you hear me?” Julius whispered into the headsets of the three trembling cameramen. “We might be able to use this in editing.”

“Roger!” Shannen exclaimed.

“Nobody move!” he ordered. “Especially not you, my
palomita
,” he said menacingly, with wild eyes and disheveled hair.

“Roger, p-p-put the gun down,” she stammered.

“You’ve got some nerve telling me what to do,” he said through
clenched teeth, sweating through his green plaid shirt. “I saw the tape. I know all about your tryst with that
Mexican
.”

Like 007, Wolfe stealthily made his way around the scenery hoping to take Roger by surprise. Ethan and Jade hid behind the rented ferns and ficus, while Alison ducked under a picnic table. Phillip ruthlessly pushed a slumped-over Maeve from behind the chaise to take her spot.

“Que pasa,
Roger?” a bronzed, bare-chested Javier inquired. “You
loco
?” He bravely stepped in front of Shannen, defending her.

From behind the barbecue pit, Emmy called out, “Javier, don’t. She’s not worth it.”

“You’re an idiot, Javier,” Roger slurred. “She doesn’t care about you, all that gold-digger cares about is her next tennis bracelet like the rest of these broads. Now
move
or else I’ll blow you away too.”