Casting Debbie

Chapter 4

Debbie ran her fingers across the white marble countertops. "Do you have a workout room too?"

Lou pointed over her shoulder with her thumb. "Those hills behind us. That's where I ride my bike."

"I'm more of a treadmill girl. Too much traffic in New York."

"I'll ask Amita to get right on that." Lou pulled an index card out of her back pocket and looked at it, hesitating slightly. This was it. Once she handed this card to Debbie, it was pretty much a done deal. She looked Debbie in the eye and offered the card to her. "Here are the security codes for the doors and the gates. They're all different, so put them in your phone or something."

Debbie took the card. "Thank you for trusting me."

Lou shook her head. "I don't. I'm scared shitless that you'll turn on me, but we're in this now and I need you." Lou hoped Debbie could hear the sincerity in her voice and take her seriously. She hoped she'd understand just how serious this was and act accordingly. And she prayed for a good outcome.

***

"Are we good?" Lou asked.

Debbie still wasn't sure why Lou felt the need to follow through with this crazy plan, or even that it would achieve her goal. Hollywood was a very fickle town, after all. But that wasn't her concern. She took another quick glance around the guesthouse. "I need my career back, and if this is what it takes, I'm all in."

"Good!" Lou said, looking rather relieved. "On to business, then. I start shooting season six in two weeks, so we'll go out a few times before then for photo ops."

"How do you know the paparazzi will be there?"

"Lin will handle that part."

"So, you'll let me know what to wear for those photo ops?"

Lou looked Debbie up and down. "You'll go to my stylist this week and she'll set you up. We'll do some casual stuff and a little more formal as well. I'd like to take you to a friend's wedding this weekend, if you're up for it. Again, just as friends."

"Whatever you need," Debbie said with a smile.

Lou eyed her skeptically. "Why so nice all of a sudden? Surely you want to give me crap about dressing you."

Debbie grinned. "Lin said I can keep the clothes."

"Ah. I knew there had to be an ulterior motive." Lou tried not to smile back, but the effort proved impossible.

Debbie bit her lip. "And the Range Rover."

"Wow!" Lou chuckled. "Are there any other demands I should know about?"

"Don't expect anything of me in private."

The smile quickly left Lou's face, along with the positive energy they'd managed to have in the room for about five seconds. "Now who's being arrogant?"

"Whatever. Just...when I'm on set, so to speak, I'll shine for you. That's all I'm saying."

"And off camera, you'll be angry and bitter. Got it."

Debbie grabbed Lou's arm as she tried to leave. "Look, I just..."

"It doesn't matter," Lou said, shooting her a glare. "Do your thing when we're in public. That's all I ask."

"I will. I promise. And I'm sorry that I'm coming across like a complete bitch. This is just a crazy situation, you know?"

"I know," Lou replied, softening her tone. "Look, I'm sorry I told you we'd never fuck. I mean, we won't, of course. But I'm sorry I said it like that. It was rude."

"Don't worry," Debbie said, smiling. "It hurt more when I heard we wouldn't be canoodling in public."

Lou laughed. "God, you're something else." She pointed toward the door. "Should we go get your things?"

"I don't have much. Just the suitcase and carry-on I brought to the main house." She finished the sentence off with a stuffy British accent. Lou rewarded her with a smile she was trying very hard to suppress.

They walked side by side past the pool, Debbie with her hands tucked into her pockets. Lou just a few inches taller than Debbie. Lou could easily put her arm around her shoulders, and Debbie's arm could wrap around her waist. When the time came, that's the way they should walk for the cameras. Debbie grinned, thinking it might be rather fun to put on this little charade, blocking the scenes, right down to how they held hands. Maybe this actually could feel like real acting work.

"Is something funny?" Lou asked.

"No." Debbie picked up both bags. "I've got this. See you in the morning?"

"I stocked the fridge for you, but the coffeemaker in the main house is much better, so feel free to come in and use it."

"Well, I do love good coffee. And I've always wanted an excuse to say 'the main house,' so you're on."

Debbie took her luggage to the guesthouse, dropped it by the bed, and then went back to the door. She leaned against the doorframe, taking in the beauty of the backyard. It looked like a resort with the gorgeous pool and lounge chairs with thick white cushions she could sink into. And why waste a single second of my time here, she thought.

It took about thirty seconds for her to change into a bikini. She'd only brought the one-a simple, black style that was comfortable and fit well enough to do laps. And this pool was certainly long enough to do laps. She'd have to go shopping for a few more swimsuit options. Maybe something more colorful, more "California."

Debbie looked at herself in the mirror. She'd always had a nice body. Long legs, flat stomach, nice ass. Even with the pressures the soap world put on women to enhance their beauty, she'd managed to stay natural. She didn't need breast implants. Her tits were fine. Not too big, not too small. One of the producers had suggested she try to plump up her lips a little bit and she all but told him to fuck off.

No, Debbie Ocean would never succumb to the pressures of producers and directors, most of whom looked like they'd never seen a green smoothie or a vitamin, or even a salad in their lifetimes. Assholes.

Debbie walked outside and threw a towel on one of the lounge chairs. She stood at the edge of the pool, staring down into the calm water. "This could be the easiest job I've ever had," she said to herself, right before diving into the pool.