Chapter 25 Ada #2
After a few days and no word from Vince, Ada resigns herself to one conclusion: Their conversation in the library led to a
moment of weakness. Nothing more.
What they want remains unchanged: a successful film. Not each other. Attraction is not worth shifting focus from the work.
But those kisses were far from stage kisses.
The attraction between them was never the trouble; that part has always been far too easy. Everyone is permitted a weak moment.
She will be mindful to refuse herself another, that’s all.
“If you and Vince get together, wait until closer to release,” Gordon advises her a few nights later when she tells him about
the incident over dinner. “The press is enjoying the will-they-won’t-they, so leave your audience in suspense awhile longer.”
“We are not getting together,” she reminds him—not for the first time—but Gordon is already rubbing a hand thoughtfully over
his mustache.
“Closer to release, have dinner at Musso and Frank Grill, and I’ll hire a journalist to snap a few photos of you two. Let
your audience wonder—are the rumors of a reunion true? Viewers will flock to the theaters during the first week to assess
your on-screen chemistry and make their predictions. Then give your audience their happily-ever-after.” He spreads his hands,
as if showcasing a headline. “‘A Love Story Fit for Screen: How Vince Hart and Ada Worthington-Fox Fell in and out of Love,
and in Love Again.’”
“You should ask Minnie Musgrave for lessons on snappy headlines, darling, because that one is awful.” While he grumbles about
the gossip columnist, Ada shakes her head. “That’s not how I want to make a name for myself.”
Nor does she want to toy with Vince’s feelings—or her own. Even if they agreed to excite the press with staged outings or
a fake relationship, those feelings are too easily stirred. As proven by their kisses.
“You know I’d never tell you to do anything you don’t want to do, kid,” Gordon says as he takes their dirty dishes to the
sink. “But it’s my job to help you build your career. Gossip sells.”
Of course it does. Gossip will sell enough without her and Vince contributing to the rumors.
“As long as you’re happy, I’m happy. Just because my only relationship is with work, it doesn’t mean yours should be,” he concludes once they move into the living room, where he takes his favorite gold satin chair.
“Get back together with Vince, or don’t.
Either way, you’re a damn good actress. Nothing will change that. ”
She places a hand on his arm in gratitude before accepting a cigarette, turning on the television, and stretching out on the
elegantly carved sofa with its emerald velvet cushions. Gossip might encourage interest, but it can’t improve a poor film.
That responsibility lies with those who made it.
“Another option,” Gordon muses. “Invite Vince over and take him upstairs. None of the press and all of the fun.”
“If I were considering any of these options, that one would have already crossed my mind.”
Despite her teasing smile and Gordon’s suggestive wink, she can almost feel the old scar burning. She glances down, though
of course her clothing covers it. She takes a drag of her cigarette to push the sensation away and pats Sowerby as he nestles
beside her.
God willing, there will be no more moments of weakness with a man Ada does not want.
Even if she can’t get his words out of her head. Even if she can’t forget the feeling of his lips against hers. Even if she
can’t stop recalling the way their kisses in her dressing room made her feel so wanted. The same way their kisses in the library did.
She doesn’t have to see him again until press continues. And when that time comes, she will not be alone with him, will not
do anything to lead to another possible moment of weakness. She will focus on the film. Only the film.
Over the next few months, she does precisely that.
No encounters with Vince, no mysterious messages from men who are likely Dietrich, no provocations that might goad him or divert her attention from the upcoming release.
Instead, Ada maintains her usual privacy as she awaits Ingrid’s return.
Once they are together again, Ada’s film will premiere, then perhaps she will give another exclusive.
Maybe one about escaped war criminals, encouraging the public to look for a particular officer who was stationed in Arnhem.
If that does not encourage Dietrich to steal the evidence back, nothing will. Then perhaps Ingrid can enlist Hattie’s aid
to send an FBI contact who might take him into custody.
On a pleasant morning in early May, Gordon leaves for a meeting while Ada prepares for Ingrid’s arrival. Ada had insisted
she stay at Gordon’s rather than the Biltmore, so she tidies the house, making sure everything is in order, then gets dressed.
As she finishes styling her hair, the doorbell rings. Ingrid, here already? Her flight wasn’t supposed to arrive until this
afternoon. The anticipation of seeing her sister hastens every footstep until she throws open the door—and gasps.
Not Ingrid. An older woman.
Suddenly her grip on the doorknob is the only thing keeping Ada on her feet.
The woman’s hair in her tight bun is as dark as Ada remembers, the lines around her eyes slightly more pronounced, the level,
gray-eyed stare unwavering. And then comes her voice, clear and refined and thick with emotion.
“Oh, my darling girl.”
Nothing could have prepared Ada for the way she would feel upon hearing that voice again. She can hardly think, and she hardly
manages a breathless reply.
“Hello, Mother.”