Eye of the Beholder by Turner Stephanie

Author:Turner, Stephanie
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Independent
Published: 2021-10-28T00:00:00+00:00

To the Point

“You’re sure you’re up for this?” Nigel asked. “I can go in alone.”

“I want to keep busy.”

“Say the word and we leave.”

I squeezed his fingers.

We pulled into the lot at Globe Studios to meet Crispin Vanderly, stopping outside Studio Four this time. This building was a little smaller, a little older from the looks of the pock-marked concrete exterior, and tucked back behind the others. There was no crowd clamoring for entrance outside the doors, and no room to house one if they’d been there. Crispin himself waited in the vestibule out of the rain to admit us, and led us down a dingy, cramped ply-wood tunnel housing refuse - broken props, dusty bolts of material, burnt-out and disused stage lights - to the far more glamorous by comparison studio portion. Knowing what was behind the stage - a plywood shell and broken dreams, made the whole thing feel artificial and tacky.

We waited silently in the wings while the stunning hostess in exquisite gown lifted and displayed with exaggerated gestures her wares for the camera, her back to us meager peasants. She turned and I saw her in profile, and recognized her: Celia Vanderly, Crispin’s sister, and Nigel’s former girlfriend. I felt completely inadequate, and made a futile attempt to brush water stains from my formerly lovely gown, and could only hope my mascara hadn’t smeared so I didn’t look too much like a raccoon. The set finished and the house lights went on, and we were allowed to speak.

“I really have no idea what we sell, all I know is we’re turning a profit,” Crispin frowned as he picked up a crystal figurine from a velvet-lined display, trying to figure out what kind of creature it was. “Porcupine?”

“Platypus.” Nigel and I corrected at the same time.

Crispin shrugged and set it back. “Celia is the one in charge of the show.”

“Celia?” I repeated, stunned Crispin’s sister was allowed to be in charge of anything. She hadn’t struck me as particularly capable on our few brief meetings.

“Hm?” Crispin was only half listening to me, intent on discerning another figurine.

“Celia has a remarkable sense of the beautiful,” Nigel complimented her; I tried not to let it irritate me. “She knows by instinct what will appeal to the eye-”

“And open the wallet.” Crispin emphasized what was most important to him.

“That too.” Nigel agreed dryly. I felt better.

“Your wallet’s safe now, is it?” Crispin glanced meaningfully at me before grinning at Nigel.

“She’s Irish.” Nigel explained.

I don’t know why that annoyed me as much as it did.

“Really, Crispin,” Celia only added to it as she blazed toward us across the stage, every movement she made designed to draw the eye and reveal just how remarkably beautiful she was. On the outside, anyway. “As if Nigel isn’t bad enough; what the blazes is she doing here?” She gestured to me as if I were a defective bit of equipment, something fit for the halls, definitely not worthy of the studio.

“She was hoping you could answer some questions.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.