Hidden Riches

did,” he murmured, and waited while Dora checkedin. The tony lobby of the BHH didn’t seem exactly the right setting to tell her that the “ex” wouldn’t apply much longer.
    Dora covertly scanned the lobby for passing movie stars when she handed the desk clerk her card for imprint. “I’m going to bill you for this, Skimmerhorn.”
    “It was your idea to come.”
    True enough. “Then I’ll only bill you for half.” She accepted her card, and two keys, passed one to the waiting bellman. “Some of us are not independently wealthy.”
    “Some of us,” he said as he slipped an arm around her waist, “paid for the airfare.”
    She was touched by the easy way he’d linked them together as they trailed the luggage to the elevator and up to the room.
    Dora quickly slipped out of her shoes and padded over to the window to check out the view. There was nothing quite so Californian, she mused, as lush lawns, regal palms and cozy stucco cottages.
    “I haven’t been in LA since I was fifteen. We stayed in an incredibly bad hotel in Burbank while my father did a part in a small, forgettable film with Jon Voight. It did not distinguish either of their careers.”
    She stretched her back, rolled her shoulders. “I guess I’m a snob. An east coast snob, because LA doesn’t do it for me. It makes me think of unnecessary eye tucks and designer yogurt. Or maybe it’s designer eye tucks and unnecessary yogurt. After all, who really needs yogurt in their lives?”
    She turned back, her smile becoming puzzled when he only continued to stare at her. “What is it?”
    “I just like looking at you sometimes, that’s all.”
    “Oh.”
    When he saw that the statement had both pleased and flustered her, he smiled back. “You’re okay, Conroy. Even with the pointy chin.”
    “It’s not pointy.” She rubbed it defensively. “It’s delicately sculptured. You know, maybe we should have booked asuite. This room’s hardly bigger than a closet. Or maybe we can just go out for a while, get something to eat, soak up some smog.”
    “You’re nervous.”
    “Of course I’m not nervous.” She tossed her bag onto the bed and undid the straps.
    “You’re nervous,” Jed repeated. “You talk too much when you’re nervous. Actually, you talk too much all the time but there’s a different quality to the babble when you’re nervous. And you can’t keep your hands still.” He laid his gently over hers.
    “Obviously I’ve already become too predictable. The first death knell in any relationship.”
    He simply turned her around, keeping her hands in his. “You’ve got a right to be nervous. I’d be more worried about you if you weren’t.”
    “I don’t want you to worry.” Because she didn’t, she willed her hands to relax in his. “I’m going to be fine. Classic opening-night jitters, that’s all it is.”
    “You don’t have to do this. I can keep the appointment for you.”
    “I never give the understudy a chance to steal my thunder.” She inhaled and exhaled twice, deeply. “I’m okay. Wait till you read the reviews.”
    Since she so obviously needed him to, he played along. “What did you used to do before opening night?”
    Thinking back, she sat on the edge of the bed. “Well, you’d pace a lot. Pacing’s good. And you’d keep running lines in your head and going over the blocking. I’d get out of my street clothes and into a robe—sort of like a snake shedding. And vocalize. I used to do a lot of tongue twisters.”
    “Such as?”
    “Moses supposes his toeses are roses, that kind of thing.” Grinning, she waggled her tongue between her teeth. “You’ve got to limber the tongue.”
    “Yours has always seemed pretty limber to me.”
    “Thanks.” She laughed and looked back at him. “Good job, Skimmerhorn. I feel better.”
    “Good.” He gave her hair a brotherly tousle, then turned to the phone. “I’ll order up some room service, then we’ll go over the routine again.”
    Dora groaned and flopped back on the bed. “I hate heavy-handed directors.”
     
    But he didn’t let up. Two hours later they had eaten, argued, discussed every possible contingency, and he was still unsatisfied. He listened to her reciting tongue twisters in the bathroom and frowned at the door. He’d have felt better if she’d been wearing a wire. Foolish, he supposed, as she’d be walking into a fully staffed office building in broad daylight, but it would have eased his mind. If he hadn’t been