The Missing Juliet Read online

  Robin sat in the enormous wicker chair in the corner. “I want to start drinking to excess.”

  “That can be arranged.”

  “I’m not legal.”

  Toni grinned. “Never stopped me.”

  “And I don’t believe in alcohol.”

  “It believes in you, honey,” Toni said.

  The liquor bottles she produced from the cabinet included some fruity kind of wine, peppermint schnapps, and vodka. Robin didn’t quite feel ready for vodka. They drank the schnapps instead, from very elegant fluted glasses.

  “So why the sudden need for oblivion?” Toni asked.

  “The girl I like is busy breaking another girl’s heart.”

  “Sounds like the title of a country-western song.” Toni paused. “I should write that down.”

  The combination of a long day in the sun, a toe-curling kiss, breaking Molly’s heart, and peppermint schnapps quickly overwhelmed Robin. Everything seemed brighter and happier than it had just an hour ago. Toni suggested they paint their toenails, which sounded like the best idea ever. Robin was dashing glittery pink liquid on her right big toe when her cell phone rang with a call from home.

  She missed home. She missed it with a sudden fierce sentimentality that made it seem like a very good idea to answer and not let it go to voice mail.

  “I was just thinking of you,” Robin said into the receiver, maybe a little louder than necessary.

  Mom asked, “You were? Why?”

  “I love you all very much,” Robin confessed. “Totally very much. Do I tell you enough? I’m going to go away to college and miss you even more.”

  A pause on the other end. Then Mom asked, incredulously, “Are you drunk?”

  “No!” Robin stood quickly—too quickly—and walked the phone out to the balcony. Far below, swimmers frolicked in the pool. “I’m relaxing. I’m at Lina’s.”

  Mom sounded both amused and worried. “You’ve never gotten drunk before.”

  “I’m not!”

  “Where are your car keys?”

  “I’m nowhere near a car, I promise.”

  “Good. Call me in the morning.”

  Toni yelled from inside, “Come on! Let’s watch American Idol!”

  Robin barely remembered going to sleep. She blinked herself awake at five o’clock in the morning and discovered her head ached, her mouth tasted fuzzy, and her stomach was queasy. Millie the cat was staring at her in disapproval. When Robin sat up, she found herself wearing a lacey nightgown that was probably Lina’s, and her toenails were hideously pink.

  Never again would she drink peppermint schnapps.

  Toni’s door creaked open. She was in her running gear and she looked ridiculously perky.

  “Wakey, wakey,” she said. “Want to come for a three-mile run?”

  Robin pulled a pillow to her face. “Go away.”

  “I’m going to leave you a thermos of my favorite hangover cure,” Toni said. “Don’t worry about the smell or the taste. It works wonders.”

  Robin briefly contemplated calling Austin and telling him that she was calling in sick. But she was too damned responsible for her own good. She showered, got dressed, and got in her car. When she opened Toni’s thermos, she saw dark green liquid sloshing around inside. It smelled like tomato juice and spinach.

  “Probably not,” she said, and put the thermos in her backpack before it made her throw up.

  The final day of shooting was going to be at the Hemingway House on Whitehead Street. Several streets had been blocked off to local traffic and Robin had to park so far away that she almost had to sprint to make it to Liam’s trailer before six o’clock. Cayleigh was already knocking on Liam’s door when Robin rushed up.

  “More schoolwork?” Cayleigh asked archly.

  The door swung open and Liam stepped down. He didn’t look like he’d had any more rest than Robin, but while she was getting drunk he’d probably been cuddling all night with his hot lover. Life was not fair.

  “Last day of shooting,” he said. “Let’s get this over with.”

  All of the scenes they were shooting today were exteriors. Robin had been to the museum once before on school field trips. The first time, she’d been duly impressed, because everyone knew Hemingway was brilliant and had won a Nobel Prize. But then she learned his track record with women was abysmal, and he’d been all for bullfights and hunting, and so she boycotted the whole thing and convinced ten other juniors not to go as well.

  Still, she had to admit the two-story house with its balconies and ironwork was beautiful. You couldn’t ask for a nicer nineteenth century mansion. The lush gardens that surrounded it couldn’t have been planted in Hemingway’s time, because the islands relied mostly on rainwater then. Now they bloomed with exotic color and flair.

  The swimming pool was the biggest draw, however. It had been dug out of the coral and filled with seawater for Hemingway under the direction of his wife Pauline. Back in those days, nobody else in the Florida Keys had one like it. Now it seemed small compared to the ones Robin was used to, but it made for great wedding photos. The first scene of the day was, in fact, the characters Christine and John getting married in the 1940s, and time terrorists would of course interrupt the ceremony.

  Robin gulped coffee and downed aspirin and tried to keep her distance from Karen, who looked lovely and stylish in a simple white dress. If Molly was around, she was staying out of sight as well. The whole set seemed to have a jittery, nervous air. Robin wasn’t the only one who noticed.

  “Last day anxiety,” said Lou, tugging his Yankees cap down on his forehead. “Nobody wants to screw it up.”

  The first take of the wedding scene was ruined by a dangling boom mike. The second was interrupted by a buzzing biplane that made Karen forget her lines. Michael Lake grew visibly impatient. If he’d had hair, he’d be pulling it out by now.

  “People, people!” he shouted. “Let’s get this together! Time is not on our side!”

  Robin asked Lou, “What happens if the scenes don’t get finished today?”

  “A whole lot of people are going to be unhappy. Speaking of unhappy…”

  His voice trailed off as Molly appeared nearby, delivering bottled water to Liam. When she caught sight of Robin, she hurried off.

  It would be easy to absolve herself of responsibility for Molly’s distress, but Robin never really did like the easy way out of anything.

  “Excuse me,” Robin said to Lou.

  She caught up to Molly at the craft service table, where she was rearranging some coffee cups. Before Robin could speak up, Molly said, “I know I made a fool of myself last night. You don’t have to tell me.”

  “Why do you say that?” Robin asked.

  “I obviously read into it more than Karen intended.” Molly sounded as if she were relating lines she’d rehearsed all night. Her face was almost as pale as her cream-colored shirt. “Girls like her could have anyone they want.”

  Robin stepped closer. “She should want you,” she said firmly. “You’re fun and smart and you’ve got a good heart.”

  Molly offered a small, skeptical smile. “So says you.”

  “Yes, so says me,” Robin insisted. Without hesitation, she reached out and lifted Molly’s chin. “Any girl would be lucky to have you. If Karen can’t see that, she needs glasses.”

  Molly gazed at her steadily. “You’re not just saying that?”

  “I mean every word,” Robin said.

  Her shoulders squared, Molly said, “You knew how I felt, and you kissed her anyway.”

  Robin dropped her hand. She couldn’t deny any guilt there. “I’m sorry. She told me you two weren’t a thing. I shouldn’t have believed her. I’m not going to believe her about anything ever again, trust me.”

  “That makes two of us,” Molly said and sighed. “Look, it’s our last day here, and I don’t want to spend it avoiding you. Friends?”

  Molly stuck her hand out so they could shake on it. The unexpected generosit
y of it made Robin regret kissing Karen all over again.

  “Friends.” Robin squeezed her hand. “Thank you.”

  Michael Lake called for another take. That one was ruined when a bird dive-bombed into the shot and flew off again. Maybe today was cursed, Robin thought. Maybe she’d be more patient if her hangover would wear off. Definitely no more schnapps ever again. As the wedding scene was setting up for its fifth take, Robin’s phone buzzed in her pocket. Austin’s number. She went to Liam’s trailer. An enormous gift-wrapped basket of muffins and cookies was on the doorstep, and she carried it in.

  “If there’s one thing I hate about Hollywood, it’s the muffin baskets,” Austin said. “Put it over there, will you?”

  Robin stowed the expensive assortment on a side table. The biggest TV set in the trailer was showing a live feed from the set. Austin could watch Liam get married over and over again while he worked on his computer tablet. An open suitcase was on the sofa, half-packed beside a pile of fresh laundry and the leather bound movie script.

  “Don’t you get bored, watching over and over?” Robin asked as Liam and Karen took their marks again.

  “Liam set it up so I wouldn’t be such a worrywart,” Austin replied.

  He sounded unhappy, and there were worry creases around his eyes. Robin said, “But you’re still worried.”

  “Not especially,” he said with forced lightness. “He can take care of himself. Does it all the time.”

  Robin watched the wedding scene progress. Liam stood tall and handsome in his military uniform. Karen was radiant in the way a bride was expected to be.

  “Do you want to marry him?” Robin asked.

  Austin’s fingers paused over whatever e-mail he was tapping. “Do we look like the marrying sort?”

  “You do,” she said with an emphasis on the “you.” Austin seemed like the kind of guy who would definitely stand up at an altar, or maybe elope during a wild romantic weekend in Paris. “I’m not so sure about him.”

  “Hmm,” Austin said. “Be sure to mention that to him, won’t you? Tell him that despite our young age, despite the fact we live on two different continents, and despite his rampaging fear of never working as a Hollywood leading man again, you think we should get married.”

  Robin helped herself to the seat across from him. “You asked and he said no, is that it?”

  He resumed tapping. “None of your business.”

  She could see it clearly now. Pride Week, and Austin had surprised Liam by arriving for the last week of shooting. They’d gone out Sunday night to dinner. Liam maybe wanted to convince Austin to leave. Austin had proposed marriage instead. No wonder they’d quarreled. But Austin was still here, hiding out in the trailer to protect Liam’s reputation, so there was hope yet. The makeup sex must have been great.

  “That envelope is for you,” Austin said, gesturing carelessly. “I thought I’d give it to you now, because I won’t be at the wrap party.”

  Robin picked it up but didn’t open it. “You said this was an unpaid internship.”

  “That’s for gasoline. Parking. Miscellaneous expenses.”

  Robin put it in her pocket.

  “Karen kissed me last night,” she said before she could stop to consider why she trusted him. Of all the people she had expected to confide in, Liam’s incognito boyfriend wasn’t even on the list.

  He looked intrigued. “Did you kiss her back?”

  “Yes. But I don’t trust her. You and Liam, whatever problems you’re having, you trust each other. I envy that.”

  “I am not your relationship counselor,” Austin retorted, but at least he glanced up at her. “Karen? I thought she was with that PA girl. Your little redhead friend.”

  “So did the redhead,” Robin replied glumly. “I met Juliet, too. She and Karen don’t seem to get along at all.”

  “Oh, they’re like two toxic peas in a pod. You spend all of your life in someone else’s pocket whether you like it or not, and that’s what happens.”

  He sat back from his laptop and studied Liam on the screen. “I do trust him. And that means a lot in our business. Do you know where we met?”

  “On a movie?”

  “In rehab,” he said and laughed softly. “Very inappropriate relationship right under the auspices of very strict doctors. Delightful. We were barely eighteen. Shouldn’t have lasted afterward, but four years later and here we are. He’s a red-hot celebrity and I’m hiding in his closet.”

  “He could come out.”

  “Career suicide, he says.”

  “You did.”

  “Not quite the same stakes.”

  Robin asked, “Because you quit the business?”

  “I quit the poison of fame, yes,” he agreed.

  On the screen, Liam and Karen kissed.

  Austin abruptly straightened. “Anyway, you don’t need to hear my own sad story when you have one of your own. What are you going to do about the duplicitous Miss Karen Francine?”

  “Nothing,” Robin said. “And I mean that. Nothing. You all are leaving tomorrow and I’m going home.”

  “Tomorrow is an eternity away. What about your lovely redhead?”

  Robin squinted. “Who says she’s mine?”

  “Who indeed?” Austin asked. “Now go away and leave me in peace. I’m terribly busy fixing the world.”

  Thoughtful, she left him alone with television images of Liam wrapped in the arms of a girl.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  After twelve takes, the wedding scene finally went off without a hitch.

  “That’s only the nineteen forties scene,” said Tierra, who was in charge of the bouquet props. She tucked a plastic rose behind her ear. “Now they have to do the future version, too.”

  Karen and Liam went off to do their costume and makeup changes. Tierra and other PAs reset the scene. Robin hung around and tried not to look useless. She tried to decide how she felt about Liam not wanting to come out to the world. Of course he should, to be a trailblazer for others. Of course he shouldn’t, because when had that ever worked for an actor at his height of fame? Of course he should, because it was the responsible thing to do. Of course he shouldn’t, because he was responsible only to himself.

  She thought of Denny again. And of Toni, hiding all those years at Fisher Key High, unwilling to reveal the truth about herself out of fear.

  “Miss McGee?” An assistant she didn’t know came up to Robin. “Miss Francine would like to see you in the makeup trailer.”

  For a moment, Robin considered refusing. She was sure Karen would lie to her again, and who had time for that? But her own treacherous body remembered that kiss on the lanai, so she went and told herself it was simply out of intellectual curiosity.

  Karen’s hair was being pinned up in an elaborate beehive with glittering lights strung around it. The hairdresser was a tall, thin guy with a deep frown. “Stay still, darling,” he was saying, although Karen wasn’t moving in the chair. She was wrapped in a white robe and one of the assistants was painting her nails silver.

  “I tried calling you after you left,” Karen said mildly into the mirror. “You didn’t answer.”

  “I was busy,” Robin replied. She didn’t mention the schnapps. “You were busy, too.”

  “I’m sorry that she misunderstood my intentions,” Karen said. “I did ask her over, but only to straighten things out. I’m sure she’s a great person, but I don’t feel anything more than that.”

  Karen didn’t seem to care that they weren’t alone. Maybe the crew knew about her love life. Maybe it didn’t matter so much, because it was easier to be openly lesbian than openly gay in Hollywood.

  Robin said, “She felt more. A lot more.”

  “I can’t help that,” Karen said. Still steady, unruffled. Gone was the anxious, tearful Karen that Robin had met on Monday. Friday’s Karen was a rock.

  The hairdresser said, “There. Perfect!” He spun Karen’s chair to the mirror. “You look gorgeous.”

  K
aren eyed herself critically. “Maybe more glitter?”

  “I should go,” Robin said.

  “Robin, wait.” Karen pulled her hand from the assistant who was doing her manicure and held it up to forestall the hairdresser. “Whether you believe me or not, I didn’t plan any of Juliet’s craziness, or how Molly misunderstood, or what I feel for you. Especially how I feel for you.”

  Robin decided that she didn’t believe her. But all she said was, “If you say so.”

  One step into the blinding sunlight outside and she felt free.

  So much for her great summer romance.

  *

  Take one of the futuristic wedding scene was going well. Robin sucked on a bottle of ice water as Liam and Karen stood before a robot minister and gazed longingly into each other’s eyes. In attendance were space aliens, time travelers, and assorted guests from across the galaxy. She pitied the aliens who had to wear heavy fur outfits.

  The robot minister reached the part of the vows that asked for any objections to the wedding. The audience stayed silent. Liam and Karen continued to smile at each other.

  “I now pronounce you—”

  A clear, lovely voice interrupted the scene. “I object!”

  “Cut!” Michael Lake yelled.

  Every member of the cast and crew turned to see Juliet Francine making a grand entrance across the garden. Her hair wasn’t done up in the elaborate style of Karen’s, but she was wearing a gorgeous white dress and had a red rose tucked over her ear.

  “I completely object that I don’t get to marry my handsome leading man,” Juliet said, inserting herself between Liam and Karen. She took Liam’s hand and gave Michael Lake a bright smile. “Thank goodness I’ve recovered from my stomach flu, Michael.”

  The PAs and extras murmured among themselves. Liam, flummoxed, pulled back from Juliet as much as he could with her grip tight on his hand. Karen rolled her eyes and said, “You’re too late.”

  “It’s never too late when you have a lawyer on a jet from Mexico,” Juliet said. “You’ll find the injunction in your e-mail, Michael.”

  “Injunction!” Michael Lake spluttered. “Are you insane?”