nothing to do with her. But how could they know that for sure? They hadn’t spent long hours on a movie set watching Mama, a frustrated actress, act out Pagan’s dialogue for her when she messed up a line. They hadn’t heard Eva and Arthur Jones arguing late into the night about how Pagan’s latest bump in salary might not cover that month’s bills. Everything—the big house in the hills, Ava’s private school, Mama’s designer clothes, Daddy’s cars—they all would continue to exist only so long as Pagan was perfect.
Pagan knew all too well that she was nothing but a collection of flaws, a rich stew of defects, a ratatouille of failings and weakness. And in lieu of another explanation, she couldn’t help thinking that maybe that’s why it had all come crashing down and Mama had died.
Maybe.
Maybe not. The shrinks didn’t understand how the uncertainty about why Mama had wanted to die gnawed at Pagan. If Pagan could find the answer to that question, she might truly come to understand that this one thing, at least, was not her fault.
Maybe that answer lay in the place Mama was born. Berlin.
Now here was a chance, not just to get out of this horrible place, to be free, but to explore an unknown corner of Eva Jones’s life. A chance that would not come again.
“I’ll do it.” The words split open something that had long been closed inside her. She stayed very still, hoping she wouldn’t cry.
The two men, in mid conversation, stopped speaking. Devin Black’s long-lashed eyes held a knowing look that should have bothered her, but didn’t.
He’d succeeded in manipulating her this time. But it didn’t matter, not in the long run. What was important was that soon she’d be able to hunt down the answers she needed, whether they were in Berlin or somewhere else.
“I said, I’ll do it.” She gave them her best I’m practicing patience look.
With a flourish, Devin put the briefcase on the desk and unsnapped the clasps.
Jerry took out the contract and laid it in front of Pagan. “Are you sure?”
Devin Black shot him a suppressing look. “An excellent choice, Miss Jones. One I’m sure you won’t regret.”
She took hold of Miss Edwards’s best fountain pen. “Worry about your own regrets, Mister Black. How soon do I get to see Mercedes?”
Devin peeled back the top pages of the contract to show her the signature line. “Why not immediately? Then we’ll send a car for you at four o’clock this afternoon. You’ll spend the night in your own home. Tomorrow you’ll fly to Berlin.”
“Very well.” Her mother had often used that phrase, and Pagan enjoyed the way it sounded coming from her own lips. She ran her eyes over the last page of the contract. It looked like standard language, except for a clause about her being on parole and having a court-appointed guardian with all the power of a parent on hand during the film shoot and thereafter at the court’s discretion.
“My father’s lawyer is going to be at the film shoot?” she asked. At their confused looks, she added, “He’s my court-appointed guardian, and it says here—”
“A new guardian will be appointed,” Devin said.
She looked back and forth between them. “Who?”
“You’ll be the first—or the second—to know,” Jerry said.
Which probably meant it would be someone the studio approved of, to keep an eye on their investment. That chafed, but given her history it was hard to blame them. She leaned down and signed her name. Devin Black’s eyes followed her hand, watching as the jagged lines of her signature formed.
“Never thought anyone would ask me to sign a contract again,” she said. “The world is a very strange place.”
“You have no idea.” Jerry stuffed the contract into the briefcase. “Go pack your things.”
She went to the door and turned. “What if I’d put on weight?” she asked. “Or sprouted a million pimples? Or cut off all my hair?”
Jerry darted a glance at Devin Black. “Enquiries were made.”
She nodded. Of course. “I imagine Miss Edwards is very bribable.”
“You’ll learn that anyone can be made to do just about anything,” Jerry said, grabbing his hat with an angry swipe.
“You’re walking back into a different world than the one you left nine months ago.” Devin Black slid himself between her and the door so that he could open it for her, as if they were coming to the end of a formal date rather than an exercise in blackmail. “Have you kept up on the news? There’s a new president, a new attitude, and new fears.”
Pagan took a few steps into the hallway, her heart lifting. She’d be leaving this place today. It was really happening.
A shiver overtook her and she wrapped her arms around herself to make it stop. She couldn’t tell if she was thrilled or terrified.
Miss Edwards waited just down the hall, bony arms crossed. Pagan ignored her and tilted her head up at Devin Black. “I keep up on the news that matters, Mister Black, thanks to Ed Sullivan reruns and old copies of Photoplay. Elizabeth Taylor’s going to be Cleopatra, the new Dior suit dresses are divine, and everyone’s twisting again with Chubby Checker.” She flashed him a genuine smile. Warmth was spreading through her, a feeling perilously close to happiness. “Is every hit song getting a sequel now?”
Devin Black loosed the first spontaneous grin she’d seen from him. “Why not? I can’t wait to hear ‘Cathy’s Clown Gets a Job under the Big Top.’”
Caught by surprise, Pagan laughed. Devin’s smile widened, lighting up his face and the whole dreary hallway, a thousand times more genuine and charming than his earlier studied elegance.
“How about ‘Fallen Teen Angel’?” Pagan said. “That could be my theme song.”
Devin loosed a hoot of laughter, nodding at her knowingly, as if to say touché.
“I think,” Miss Edwards’s icy voice cut in, “I’d better get you back to solitary, young lady.”
“That won’t be necessary, Miss Edwards.” Devin’s grin soured into something formidable as he turned to her. The playful boy vanished behind the man’s sharp gaze. “Miss Jones will be going to the infirmary immediately to see Miss Duran, where they will be allowed to converse in private for at least an hour.”
The color drained from Miss Edwards’s face. “Oh, I… Is Mercedes back? I hadn’t heard.”
“You know very well she’s been here since last night,” Devin said. “It’s a shame you didn’t bother to inform her worried roommate. I’m sure the judge will find that detail of my visit quite illuminating.”
Miss Edwards’s countenance became positively chalky. “No need for that, Mister Black, I’m sure. I’ve been and will be happy to abide by the judge’s orders, of course. But I’m a busy woman. I can’t be expected to—”
“When
