Glitter Baby (Wynette, Texas #3)(51)

She made them wait while she went to the bathroom, but she could only stall so long. The cameras rolled. During the next take, she fumbled with the clasp of the bra. After that Johnny Guy had to remind her to hold her head up. The set felt like a morgue, and the absence of chatter added to her agitation.

As they got ready for the fifth take, she gazed desperately at Jake. He’d spent all morning not looking at her unless he had to, but now, instead of helping her, he let his eyes sweep down over her. He shrugged. “Your body is nice and everything, kiddo, but I’d appreciate it if we could get out of here before the tip-off. The Sixers are playing the Nets tonight.”

The cameraman laughed. Johnny Guy gave Jake a murderous glare, but Fleur felt a little better. Some of the tension on the set eased, and the skeletal crew began talking in normal tones.

With the next take, she got her bra off. She tried to pretend it was Matt looking at her breasts. She leaned forward just as Johnny Guy wanted her to and slipped her thumbs into the sides of her panties. Her stomach pitched. She gave a little tug and pulled them down.

Jake’s eyes followed the panties, then returned to look at what they’d been covering up. This wasn’t the way she wanted Jake to see her, not with everyone else looking, not with cameras rolling and anyone who could afford a movie ticket able to see this moment that should have been private.

She hated herself for selling out. This might be right for other actresses, but she was a fake actress and it wasn’t right for her. She wanted to give herself to Jake with love—not performing a piece of business she was getting paid for.

The camera couldn’t see her facial expression, but Jake could. “Cut,” he said. “Just cut it. Shit.”



It didn’t take long for Belinda’s contacts to call and tell her what was happening. They been working on a closed set today, but Belinda should have gone anyway. If she’d been there, she could have helped.

She smoked and paced the living room. Nothing was going right. She’d never imagined Fleur would stay angry with her for so long, but her daughter had barely spoken to her since Tuesday when she’d found out she couldn’t use a body double. And now this.

Belinda lit another cigarette and waited.

Fleur came home early and walked past Belinda without saying a word. Belinda followed her upstairs. “Baby, don’t be like this.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Fleur said with a quiet dignity that further unsettled Belinda.

“How much longer are you going to punish me?”

“I’m not punishing you.” Fleur went into her room and dropped her purse on the bed.

“I’d call three days of silence punishment,” Belinda retorted.

Fleur rounded on her. “What you did to me was wrong.”

Fleur’s intensity frightened Belinda. “I’m not perfect, baby. Sometimes my ambition for you gets the better of me.”

“No kidding.”

Fleur’s sarcasm was a relief. Belinda made her way to her daughter’s side. “You’re special, baby, and I won’t ever let you forget that, no matter how much you try to. The rules for celebrities aren’t the same as the rules for ordinary people.”

“I don’t believe that.”

Belinda stroked her cheek. “I love you with all my heart, do you believe that?”

Fleur softened enough to nod.

Belinda’s eyes filled with tears. “I only want the best for you. Your destiny was carved out the instant you were conceived. Fame is in your blood.” She held out her arms. “Forgive me, baby. Please say you forgive me.”

Fleur let Belinda hug her. Gradually her stiff muscles relaxed. “I forgive you,” she whispered. “But please…Promise you won’t ever lie to me again.”

Belinda’s heart filled with love for her beautiful, na?ve daughter. She stroked her hair. “I promise. I’ll never lie to you again.”



Just before dark, Belinda grabbed the keys to her Mercedes. If she didn’t do something quickly, everything she’d worked for would slip away. She parked in Fleur’s space at the studio and nodded to the guard as she went inside. None of the three men sitting in the dark projection room noticed her. They were too absorbed in the images on the screen.

“The entire f*cking sympathy of the movie shifts to her.” Johnny Guy twisted the cap on what looked like a bottle of Maalox. “It’s as if we’re watching Snow White get raped. I swear to God, Jako, if you say ‘I told you so,’ I’ll kick your ass.”

“The film’s imploding on us,” Jake said tonelessly.

Belinda felt a chill.

“Let’s not jump the gun,” Dick Spano said. “Fleur had a bad day, that’s all.”

Johnny Guy popped an antacid. “You weren’t there, Dicky. She doesn’t have it in her to pull off that scene.”

Jake raked his fingers through his hair. “I’ll drive up to my place, turn off the phones for the weekend, and do some rewrites. We’ll have to cut some of her footage.”

Belinda dug her fingernails into her palms. Cut Fleur’s footage? She wouldn’t allow it.

“Do what you have to,” Johnny Guy said. “I’ll make some notes for you. I’m sorry about this, Jako. Really.”

Spano jabbed the air with his cigar. “I don’t get why she froze up like that. We all know some of the guys she’s dated. Big-time players. It’s not like she’s never taken her clothes off for a man.”