“I would’ve married you.”
“And that would have been a mistake.”
“Marrying Alonzo isn’t?”
“Of course not.” It was a struggle to control her voice. “Alonzo encourages me to be the person I want to be. You tried to make me into the person you want me to be.”
“You make it sound as though I forced you to do things you didn’t want to do.”
Doreen sighed. She was suddenly tired of everything. She was tired of Leonard trying to convince her to reconcile with him. She was tired of Nessa trying to cause conflicts where none existed. She just wanted Leonard to leave so she could have some time alone before Alonzo came home.
“We’re just not right for each other, Leo.” She spoke as gently as she could. “I’m going to marry Alonzo. You have to accept that.”
Leonard’s dark eyes studied her for silent moments. “I never stopped loving you.”
She felt nothing. “I’m in love with Alonzo. It’s time you moved on.”
Doreen walked back into the garage. She pressed the power button to lower the door, shutting out Leonard. Alonzo could bring in the mail later. For now, she just needed to sit and unwind. Between Nessa and Leonard, she’d had enough drama for the day.
CHAPTER 27
“Benita, it’s Tommy Poole.” The Los Angeles theater producer sounded as though he’d just introduced himself to a throng of giddy tweens.
Benita’s heart had jumped when Tommy’s name had appeared on her cellular phone’s caller identification. She hadn’t expected to hear from him this quickly. She took a deep, calming breath, drawing in the scents of the broiled salmon and mixed vegetables she was making for her great-aunt’s Thursday dinner.
“Hi, Tommy. Have you read the script I sent you?” Benita braced her hips against the nearby kitchen counter to support her suddenly shaky knees. Why am I so nervous? I don’t have anything to lose, whether or not Tommy’s interested in Vaughn’s musical.
She pictured her business acquaintance seated behind his glass and sterling silver desk in his company’s fifth-floor office suite in Beverly Hills. The last time she’d seen him, he’d been wearing deceptively casual but undoubtedly expensive tan khakis and a pale pink polo shirt. His shock of white hair had been cut in an asymmetrical style that had given his ice blue eyes an unnecessary emphasis. She’d wondered from time to time how many facelifts he’d had to achieve that near-plastic expression.
“Where did you get this script?” Soft music played in the background as though Tommy was listening to a compact disk on his office sound system.
“I told you. A friend wrote it.” Benita glanced at the clock suspended from the kitchen wall. It was almost five P.M., which mean it was coming up on two o’clock in Beverly Hills.
“A friend from Trident Falls?” Tommy’s tone was dubious.
“Trinity Falls, yes.” Why couldn’t her L.A. associates remember the name of her hometown? “Why are you asking?”
As she checked on the salmon and vegetables, Benita pictured the area surrounding Tommy’s office. She envisioned the palm trees rising against cloudless blue skies, exclusive shops on Rodeo Drive, the congested sidewalks along Sunset Boulevard, and the contrasting architecture that lined Melrose Avenue. It was a galaxy away from Trinity Falls.
“I’m just surprised that something of such high quality came out of that town.” The producer chuckled.
Benita’s back stiffened. That town? “I’m from this town, Tommy. What are you trying to say?”
“Yes, well, you’re not there anymore, are you, darling?” His tone was dismissive.
Benita shrugged off her irritation and crossed to sit at the table. “So you like the script?”
“It’s brilliant.” Tommy’s enthusiasm almost made up for his thoughtless words. Almost. “The writing is clever and unique. The story’s original. The pacing is great and it has good tension. I’m interested in producing it.”
“Wonderful.” Benita’s senses heightened with the smell of a new deal.
She’d known Vaughn’s talent would attract power players in the theater world who were looking for the next new voice. Perhaps his work would also appeal to movie producers. Benita made a mental note to investigate that.
“Although we may need a few character adjustments.” Tommy’s comment brought Benita’s imaginary celebration to a halt.
“What kind of adjustments?” Keep an open mind, Benita.
“The dialogue will need to change.” Tommy yawned as though the discussion barely held his interest. “If these characters are poor people from a poor country, their dialogue should be more . . . authentic.”