The Actress by Marian Snowe

Author:Marian Snowe [Snowe, Marian]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-10-23T16:00:00+00:00

Um, what? My brain caught up with my mouth while Ben got out his phone so I could get Moira’s number. What do you mean, “I’ll find her”? You don’t even know where she lives or what kind of car she drives! And when did this become your problem to solve?

It caused me nothing but pain, but it was high time I came to terms with the fact that Moira Knox was a problem I couldn’t stop myself from trying to solve.

I left Ben in the hands of Lars and Bunny while I shouldered a way through the crowd, trying to get somewhere relatively quiet so I could call Moira.

Call Moira. God, in any other situation, there was no way I’d be doing this right now. But the future of the show depended on her, and besides that, the fact that she was nowhere to be seen at an event this important did worry me a little.

I dialed her number and held the phone to my ear as I reached the edge of the crowd. There were fewer people here, and I stood up on my tiptoes, craning my neck in case I might see her. The phone rang and rang, and finally an automated voice asked me to leave a message. I grimaced. Naturally Moira hadn’t customized her voice mail.

All right, genius, now what? I slipped under the black silk rope that separated the courtyard from a side street and scanned the area. There was no sign of her. Did I think I was just going to strike off in a random direction and hope I’d bump into her? That was no plan.

The front street was blocked off to normal traffic because of the red carpet, and the side streets right around the theater all had detour signs. I doubted somebody would be driving her up to the front, so if she came the way most of us did...she’d have parked at the garage.

I ducked back under the rope and skirted the terrace toward the rear of the theater, where the entrance nearest the parking garage was. The chances that she’d be coming that way weren’t high, but they were the best odds I had.

“Be back in a minute!” I called to the theater employee who was staffing the rear entrance of the courtyard. There were people out here as well: guests spilling over from the premiere party and the odd reporter and a few gawkers. I passed them all by and hurried down the sidewalk in the direction of the garage.

At first I looked right past the three guys who were standing on the corner. But then I saw a familiar silhouette in the middle of the triangle they’d formed around her.

It was Moira, and she was very determinedly not looking at the three men who stood far closer to her than politeness would dictate.

Moira was wearing a premiere-worthy gown of deep blue lace over a sheath that flared out at her feet; its scalloped neckline plunged to her breastbone.

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