Chapter 6
Hollywood, California
I wasn’t sure where Sam slept. And I hadn’t had the opportunity to talk to him about Bess’s time-crossing.
Tomorrow, we would hold Bess’s funeral, and then I wasn’t sure what would happen. I had agreed to stay and help, but it wasn’t a permanent solution. I needed to figure out how I would take care of Father and Hazel and make enough money to support us.
I also wanted to understand how Bess had changed history—and why.
If she wasn’t married to Sam, then why did he hate Cole?
Why had he tried to trap Cole in a burning building in the original history?
Was that even what had really happened? I wanted to know more details, but now that history had changed, there was no record.
I needed to see if Cole had gone on to write a book and if he had included anything about Bess in it.
As soon as I had the chance, I planned to go to the library to look.
Mama had cautioned me not to search for answers in my other path because I might learn something I’d be tempted to change, but history had already changed. How much more could I mess it up?
“Ten minutes to places,” Papa called into a megaphone.
His voice was already hoarse. After all our work yesterday using sound for the first time, he had rewatched the footage last evening, only to realize the sound had not been done correctly.
It was muffled in some places, scratchy in others, and almost nonexistent for several minutes.
We would need to redo everything, and it would cost more time and money. Desperate not to lose another day’s work, he had brought in more sound technicians from RCA Photophone, the sound system he had licensed to create the movie, further increasing the cost of production.
Spencer entered the soundstage, a script in hand. He was dressed as Laurie, his hair combed back and styled differently from how he had worn it to the Academy Awards ceremony.
He was a stunningly attractive man.
His canvas folding chair was next to mine because Conrad, the photographer for MGM, had taken pictures of us in costume yesterday as we had looked over our scripts.
Thankfully Conrad and Mr. Fellbaum were not present today.
Spencer looked different this morning—rested and not hungover. More like the actor I was familiar with and less like the troubled young man I’d interacted with at the Academy Awards and the first day of filming.
“I heard we have to scrap yesterday’s work,” he said as he took the seat next to me, hardly looking in my direction, his gaze on the script.
“Good morning, Mr. Hayes.”
He deliberately turned to me, a smile on his face. “Good morning, Miss Bennett. Now may I comment on yesterday’s work?”
“Comment on whatever you’d like.”
“Whatever I’d like?” He leaned on the armrest of his chair, moving closer than necessary. “Perhaps your beautiful eyes, or your—”
“Save the acting for the movie.” I lifted the script on my lap, pretending his nearness didn’t affect me—wishing it didn’t affect me.
He chuckled and leaned back. “It’s probably a good thing we have to scrap it. I wasn’t at my best yesterday.”
I lifted my eyebrows. “That’s an understatement.”
“I sense you don’t like me, Miss Bennett.”
“You sense right, Mr. Hayes.”
“Have I offended you?”
“Today?” I turned to him. “Not yet, but I’m sure you will.”
He laughed, and it took me by surprise. “It’s so refreshing to meet a woman who doesn’t throw herself at me.”
I rolled my eyes. I couldn’t help it. “Your humility is astonishing.”
“One of my better qualities, I’ve been told.” He grinned.
“If it’s one of your better qualities, I shudder to think about your less stellar characteristics.”
His face sobered. “Unfortunately, you’ve already seen some of them.”
The mood grew so serious, I wasn’t sure how to respond. He went from lighthearted and teasing to morose and sincere without effort. Surprisingly, it was the latter mood that appealed to me, because it felt real and unaffected.
The soundstage was massive, four stories tall and a city block long.
At one end of the building, the facades of the March and Lawrence houses had been constructed to look like they were in the New England countryside.
Several scenes took place in winter, so there was fake snow on the ground, trees, fence posts, and houses.
We would film those scenes first, then the set crew would take away the snow for the spring and summer scenes.
Next to the houses was another part of the set, where Spencer and I were sitting now.
The March family’s parlor, dining room, and front entrance had been fashioned after the real Orchard House in Concord.
I had known Louisa, the author of the book, since she was a little girl in my other path, and I was trying to emulate some of her personality quirks.
She was eight years younger than me, so we had never been close, but I knew her and her family well enough to coach Vicky, Annette, and Lydia about their habits and mannerisms.
Unfortunately, I had never been to Orchard House because they wouldn’t move there until 1857.
Instead, I’d visited them at their home called the Hillside until they left for Boston in 1848.
It was at that time that my father and Mr. Alcott had parted ways and closed their school.
The Alcotts, like my father, had been disheartened and disillusioned by Concord’s reception of their controversial school.
It was the reason Father had agreed to go to San Francisco with me.
“Frank got us tickets for the Los Angeles Philharmonic Orchestra,” Spencer said without looking at me. “They’re playing at the Hollywood Bowl tonight.” He added quickly, “We need to get in our quota of dates this week.”
“Are you asking me to go with you? Or telling me?”
He lifted an eyebrow, his tone teasing. “I don’t really have to ask, do I? You’re legally obligated to go out with me.”
A smile tugged at the corners of my lips.
His eyes sparkled with surprise. “Is that a smile, Miss Bennett? For me?”
“Don’t get used to it.”
“It’s quite fetching. I’ll make it my goal to get you to smile a dozen times a day.” He grew serious again as he said, “If you keep smiling at me like that, I believe I would do anything you asked. It’s a power you shouldn’t use lightly.”
“Mr. Hayes.” I groaned in frustration. “Can you not be sincere? Even for a moment?”
“I’m always sincere.” He winked. “And please don’t call me Mr. Hayes. Call me Spencer. Hayes isn’t even my real last name.”
“What is your real name?”
“Herbert Spencer Leeds.” He grimaced. “L. B. didn’t think it sounded like a movie star name, so he changed it. Thankfully, I have always gone by Spencer. It was my mother’s maiden name. She stopped calling me Herbert after my father—” He paused.
“After your fath—?”
He jumped out of his chair and offered me his hand. “Come on. Let’s practice the kissing scene.”
I pulled back. “The what?”
“The kissing scene.” He took my hand and tugged me to my feet. “We should be comfortable with it when the time comes. I always try to practice it as often as I can, as early as I can.” He grinned. “I’ve never had a complaint before.”
I stared at him, flabbergasted. “Mr. Hay—”
“Spencer.”
“There is no kissing scene in this movie.”
He looked devastated. “You must be teasing.”
“I’m not.”
“What a waste of all this chemistry between us!”
“Ally!” A group of women approached, led by Grace. “There you are. We’ve been looking for you.”
Spencer recovered from his perceived disappointment in time to smile at them.
Grace, Mama’s other time-crossing daughter, looked a lot like her—and like me. It was one of the reasons Papa had cast me, Vicky, Lydia, and Annette in the roles of the March sisters. We all shared similar features.
“Vicky and I were hoping to take the girls to the Santa Monica Beach after filming,” Grace said. “Would you like to come with us?”
Vicky watched Spencer, and though I’d never seen my sister starstruck before, I had seen her fall for handsome men. She’d dated a few, but nothing had ever worked out. It was clear by the way she blushed and smiled at him that she found Spencer attractive.
It had been a long time since I’d visited with Grace and her girls. I would have loved to go, but I had a legal obligation to spend time with Spencer five nights a week, and since he’d gone home after yesterday’s filming, we needed to spend tonight together.
“Thank you for the invitation.” I hesitated only for a second. “But I have plans. Spencer is taking me to the Hollywood Bowl tonight.”
Vicky shifted her surprised look from Spencer to me before she shuttered her emotions.
“How lovely.” Grace’s voice sounded pleased, but her expression was uncertain and worried.
I didn’t blame her. Spencer had been in Hollywood for several years and his reputation preceded him. All his other relationships had ended badly. The last had put one woman in the hospital and the other in jail.
I needed to be careful. Even though this was a ruse, it was a dangerous game to play.
But if we were going to convince the world, we would need to convince the people closest to us.
It was already half past seven, and the concert started at eight.
“Annette, I need you to look excited, but reserved,” Papa said from the side of the camera.
“Beth loves watching her sisters perform Jo’s melodramas and playing the piano for them, but she doesn’t like the spotlight.
As soon as she notices the others are looking at her, she needs to pull back into herself. Do you understand?”
“I’m so tired, Grandpa,” Annette complained, “and hungry.”