Casting Debbie

Chapter 2

"Oh." Debbie seemed to have hit a nerve. She could've commented on how Lou had succeeded by the looks of it. She was perfectly dressed in her, what is that color called? Oh yeah, cornflower summer dress with matching sandals, sitting like such a lady with her hands clasped on legs crossed at the ankle. Instead, she leaned forward and held her glass out for a reffil.

"Nice wine."

"Glad you like it." Lou filled the glass and resumed her ladylike position.

Debbie wondered if they still had finishing schools. If so, surely Lou had been, you know, finished at one. She noticed a blush working its way up Lou's chest, probably due the awkward silence that was, if Debbie had to guess, going on 45 seconds now. It looked as though Lou was trying to came up with a good way to say what was really on her mind. Debbie didn't have time for that. "Maybe we could talk about why I'm here?"

Almost seeming relieved by the suggestion, Lou's shoulders relaxed slightly. "I have a proposition for you."

"Are you going to save my career?"

"Maybe," Lou said. "Quite possibly. Most likely." She gave a firm nod. "Yes."

Debbie didn't hesitate. "All of those work for me."

"I can guarantee you'll get a lot of publicity. What you do with it is completely up to you."

"Guess I didn't need all that college to figure out Lou Miller introducing herself at Starbucks probably wasn't a random encounter." Debbie tried to hide her smile by taking a sip of wine. Whatever this was, it was starting to get interesting.

Their eyes met for a few seconds and then Lou said, "Look, you were right. I don't frequent West Hollywood or even Starbucks. I guess it's just easier to make coffee with my"-she gestured toward the kitchen-"Robospresso 3000 or whatever the hell it is."

Debbie looked over her shoulder, and sure enough, there was a rather large stainless-steel espresso machine sitting on the kitchen counter. She tried not to let her envy show.

"And it's easier to pretend you're straight when you're not hanging out in West Hollywood?"

"Nah, I just can't deal with the traffic on La Cienega." Lou averted her eyes, killing her chances of selling the joke.

Debbie stared intently until Lou finally met her gaze. Oh. Good. God. She kept herself from squealing with pride at being right.

"Are you willing to sign a non-disclosure before I make you an offer?" Lou asked. And there it was.

Debbie chuckled. "I'm not going to out you, if that's what you're asking."

Lou slid the non-disclosure contract across the coffee table, along with a pen. Debbie took a look at it and rolled her eyes. With a big sigh, she leaned forward and quickly signed on the dotted line.

Lou looked at the signature and scowled. "Is that really how you sign your name? It looks like Dicky...Ocean."

"It doesn't matter," Debbie quipped. "So, you're gay?"

Debbie immediately regretted asking the question. She could still hear her producers asking her the same thing with a look of horror on their faces. They blamed her firing on wanting to take the storyline in a different direction, but she knew better. She'd been fired for one reason and one only reason.

"In about four months, I'm going to make a big announcement," Lou said.

Debbie set her glass on the table. She eyed Lou for a moment, trying to decide how much personal information she could divulge. "Can I give you some advice?" she asked, in a serious tone.