The Property of a Lady - Elizabeth Adler [194]
“It’s been a long time,” she had said quietly, shaking his hand because she couldn’t just rush over and kiss C. Z. Abrams, head of Magic Studios. “But I’ve never forgotten you, Zev, or your kindness. And now you are doing it again—being kind I mean, to Azaylee.”
She could feel his hand tremble as it gripped hers, and he said softly, “It’s been too long, Missie.”
Then Azaylee rushed in exclaiming, “Zev Abramski! I remember you coming to Rivington Street on Sundays to take Missie to the Ukrainian café!” She paused and inspected him, smiling. “But you look different now you are Mr. Abrams.”
“And you look different too. Quite the young lady.” His somber dark eyes took her in and then he smiled. “And the camera did not lie, you are a lovely young lady.”
She blushed and dropped her eyes. “I just hope I can be a movie actress,” she told him eagerly, “especially in a movie where I can dance.”
She sat next to Dick on the sofa, folding her hands in her lap and crossing her ankles neatly, the perfect little lady, listening as he talked to Missie.
“Dick showed me the test,” he said abruptly. “Azaylee shone from the screen like a beacon. And something else very important now, she had a low, pretty voice with a sweet quality to it. I think she has potential. We would like to feature her in a movie called Marietta. With your permission, of course.”
“She is only fifteen,” Missie said hesitantly. “I would like her to finish high school, maybe go to college….”
He nodded. “Naturally. She is still a child and would not work adult hours. We would have tutors on the set and also make sure that she took a proper rest during the day. Don’t worry, Missie,” he said gently. “I would look after her.”
“Of course you would….”
“Oh, Missie, please, please, please!” Azaylee flung herself on her knees at her feet. “Oh, please say yes.”
Missie laughed, but inside she still was not sure she was doing the right thing. The doctor had warned that any stress or trauma might catapult Azaylee back into her never-never land, and it didn’t seem right to subject such a vulnerable fifteen-year-old to the stresses of movie acting. Yet she wanted it so badly. She hadn’t seen her so joyous and eager since O’Hara died….
“I came here to refuse your offer,” she said at last. “I was going to ask if you would consider seeing Azaylee again when she was a little bit older, but now that it’s you, Zev, how can I say no?”
“Oh, thank you, thank you.” Azaylee pirouetted around the room in an ecstasy of happiness. She stopped at C. Z.’s desk and said earnestly, “I promise I will work hard, I’ll do everything you tell me. I won’t let you down.”
“Of course you won’t,” he agreed, laughing, and Dick Nevern thought, surprised, that he rarely remembered him laughing, not even at Magic’s own comedies. Even a smile was rare praise from C. Z.
C. Z. suggested Dick show Azaylee around the studios and afterward take her home while he took Missie to lunch and talked business.
Missie remembered that first lunch now as she drove to his house. He had called for his car and taken her to his home as if he couldn’t wait to show her he was no longer a poor pawnbroker but a man of taste and refinement. But his quiet, grand house with its silken carpets and fine paintings had felt as unlived in as a museum.
A manservant served them an exquisite lunch as they sat stiffly opposite each other at a beautiful antique walnut table, making conversation about the weather and his lovely gardens until suddenly he took her hand across the table and said, “Tell me what happened to make you so sad.”
She looked at him, startled. “I didn’t know it still showed.”
“Oh, yes,” he replied quietly, “the scar is still there, in your expression and your quietness, and in your eyes.”
She told him everything, just the way she had before, holding nothing back, not even how she had felt about Eddie on their wedding night or about finding the Ivanoff brooch or about Azaylee, and her own love