LITMIR.BIZ

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been removed and the tiny makeshift studio looked like an abandoned office again. Knowing what I now knew, I could only imagine what sort of activities had gone on in here for the past year. That, in turn, led to another question, which I saved for a time when Nora Frost wasn’t so busy. Right now she was handing out checks to people, and something else along with them: autographed glossy photos of the Brothers Alpha. I could tell that the two guys who had taken down the backdrop were having an awful time trying not to laugh out loud as they received their “gift.”

      Within minutes, Jerry the photographer and most of the crew was gone. The only one left was a young Latina who appeared to be in charge of the wardrobe, or at least in charge of picking up after the twins, who left their costumes strewn all over the floor of the makeshift dressing room cubicle. “Hurry it up, would you?” Nora said as the woman put the costumes on hangers, with the hats and boots going into large plastic bags, which she started to lug out.

      “Can I give you a hand?” I asked her, and she smiled.

      I helped the woman, whose name was Rosario, drag the stuff out of the suite and to her van, the back of which was filled with various costume pieces and boxes of accessories. “You must do this for a living,” I commented.

      “For small shoots and commercials, mostly,” she said. “This is my second shoot with the Alphas.”

      “I hear they’re real up and comers.”

      She looked at me with questioning eyes. “What was your name again?”

      “Dave Beauchamp. I work in the building here.”

      “So you don’t have a connection with the family?”

      “Until today I’d never heard of them. Why?”

      Rosario looked around to see if anyone was within earshot and then crooked her index finger for me to lean closer. “I’m not a show business veteran or anything,” she whispered, “but as far as I can tell, the only way those two are going to become famous is if they’re murdered.”

      “Nora thinks they’re going to be superstars,” I whispered back.

      “I know, but she’s the one who wants to be famous and powerful. The whole family gives me the creeps.”

      “Why do you keep working with them, then?”

      She closed the door of the van. “A job’s a job, particularly these days,” she said, no longer whispering. “Last week I did an infomercial for a guy who claims he’s invented a kind of tea that will cure cancer. Personally, I think I he’s a con man who should be arrested, but a job’s a job, so I worked it.”

      “Rosario,” Nora’s voice shouted from behind us, “did you get your check?” We turned to see her standing just outside the building, with the twins behind her, both totally rapt by the electronic game gizmos they held in their hands.

      “Not yet, Nora,” Rosario called back.

      “Well, hurry up, we have to leave.”

      With a sigh, Rosario half-trotted across the parking lot to her, received an envelope (but no autographed 8x10—presumably she had one from her earlier shoot). I followed, but not as rapidly. In fact, Rosario met me half-way coming back. “Like I said, a job’s a job,” she reflected, holding her hand out for me to shake. “Nice meeting you.”

      “Same here.”

      As Rosario was preparing to leave, Nora Frost was talking on her cell phone. I tried to walk past her, but she held out a hand to stop me from going anywhere. “What do you mean you can’t do it?” she shouted into the cell. “I need you right now, dammit! What am I paying you for? Well, plans have changed, and I have to run somewhere, and I need to get the boys home. No, I can’t! Goddammit, you listen to me, you…oh! We’ll talk about this later!” She cut the line off so forcefully I thought she was going to crush the phone in her hand.

      “Problem?” I asked.

      “Elena, my assistant,” Nora fumed. “I need her right now, and she says she’s doing something and can’t come! Can you fucking believe that?”

      “Well, maybe she is doing something.”

      She glared at me. “Nothing she could be doing is more important than the boys’ needs! She knows that! Maybe Rosario can do it.” Still clutching the phone, Nora ran after the van, which was pulling away from the curb, her arms waving furiously as she shouted, “Stop!” Rosario pulled back against the curb and rolled down the passenger side window. I was able to hear Nora asking her if she could take the boys somewhere, and Rosario answer that she had to get the costumes back to the rental house before six or else pay for another day. “Shit!” Nora screamed, turning back and letting Rosario drive away. “Everyone’s against me! I don’t fucking need this!”

      “Um, Nora, I have a car,” I said. “If the boys have to get home, just give me your address and I’ll drive them there.”

      All of a sudden the world turned Technicolor. The sun came out, the scent of jacaranda filled the air, birds flew by singing sweetly, the atmosphere warmed up, a rainbow filled the sky, and the flowers, if they could have uprooted themselves and danced, would have. And it was all due to Nora Frost. “Ohhhh,” she moaned, placing a hand caringly on my arm and all but tearing up. “Do you know what you are, Dave? A contributor. The first moment I saw you, I could tell you were going to be part of the team.” It was the most remarkable transformation I had seen since Fredric March took his first drink in Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. “Could you also stay with them until I get back?” she asked.

      “I could do that, yes,” I said. “Just give me a moment to lock up my office and I’ll be right with you.” I turned away from her my hero gesture—both hands clasped and held up beside her face, in the best Lillian Gish style—and dashed back inside and up to my office, where I grabbed my laptop and switched off all the lights before locking up and leaving.

      When I returned to the parking lot, she handed me a business card for Alpha Enterprises. “The address is on the card,” she said, smiling. The zip code was for Los Feliz, an old Hollywood area of Los Angeles whose aging mansions once housed the likes of Cecil B. DeMille and W.C. Fields. “Thank you so much, Dave.”

      “No problem. Are you going to be long?”

      “No, no, I just have to run to the bank.” She winked. “You know why.”

      “Oh. The boys can’t go with you to the bank?”

      Instantly, the sun went back under a cloud and a couple of the singing birds got caught by stray cats. “I don’t want them to know what the money’s for,” she managed to say in a low voice, without moving her lips. “They’d ask, too. They’re so inquisitive.”

      I looked over at the twelve-year-olds, who came across about as naturally inquisitive as moss.

      “Boys,” Nora called to the twins, “Mr. Beauchamp is going to drive you home. You show him what gentlemen you can be.”

      Taylor’s mouth cracked into a grin that would rate the Guinness prize as World’s Smallest, but at least it was an expression.

      “I’ll see you in no more than two hours, Dave,” Nora said. “Make yourself at home while you’re there.” She turned and started striding toward a silver Lexus.

      “Wait, Nora,” I called, running to catch up with her. “You didn’t give me a key.”

      “Oh, God! What a space brain.” I doubted that sincerely, but said nothing as she rummaged through her purse and pulled out a key on a ring that had, unsurprisingly, a photo of the twins encased in plastic. “Here you are. It goes to the bottom lock on the door.”

      “All right. See you later.”

      After watching her pull out of the lot, I led the twelve-year-olds to my Toyota, which was only a year younger. I had gotten it for my twenty-first birthday, and was managing to keep it going. It was nothing fancy, but it moved. The

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