Confessions of a Hollywood Star Read Online Free Page A

in the role of a director of a multinational company who always puts profits before principles.”
    Mrs Magnolia smiled in that dazed way of hers. “Thank you. I’d appreciate that.”
    I made myself a cup of Red Zinger tea (to revitalize my mind and body after the long ride), and then I started sorting through the new stock. I made four piles: ladies’, children’s, men’s, and clothes that would only be worn by women who didn’t know there was a world outside of New Jersey. My personal cares and traumas faded as I became deeply immersed in my work. I studied each new item, thinking about where it had been and what it had seen. Had that yellow dress with the ruffles been to a wedding? Did it dance and laugh and drink champagne – or did it end up weeping in the bathroom because the love of its life had married someone else? What about those jeans with the butterfly appliqued on the back pocket? Did that butterfly get to soar, to camp in the foothills of the Andes or sail the Gulf of Mexico? Or did it go no further than the nearest party or football game? Even worse, did it stay in the house watching videos and waiting for the phone to ring?
    I picked up a pair of practically new red shoes with rhinestones in the heels. I was wondering what they would say if they could talk when the bell over the door rang.
    There were two women standing at the front of the store, just kind of eyeing the room the way a greenhorn might eye her first bison. They looked too cool to be actual customers. The younger one had lilac highlights in her blonde hair and was dressed in an arty-funky way (clashing colours and patterns and earrings made from pull tabs off cans), and the older one had dark, short, spiky hair and looked excruciatingly, expensively hip (silver and black). I figured they were lost. I couldn’t think of any other reason why women like that would come into Second Best.
    “Can I help you?” I smiled warmly so they knew they weren’t in one of those small towns where everyone’s psychotic.
    “No, thanks.” The older woman shook her platinum earrings. “We’re just looking.”
    The younger one took a dress from the rack and eyed it with interest. I was about to point out that if she wore that it would make her look like her name was Ethel when I remembered Mrs Magnolia’s stern words.
    “OK.” Normally I would never leave customers alone in the front of the store, but my sensitive actor’s instincts told me that they were too well-dressed to be thieves. I pointed to the open doorway. “I’ll be in the back if you need me.”
    I returned to my sorting and wondering about the secret lives of clothes. Fragments of their conversation drifted towards me. Apparently, they weren’t lost. Apparently, they were actually staying in some B&B in the area. He’s got as much charm as a slug and the food’s so last century, but at least she’s letting us use the washing machine… What if we dye this purple or black…? They seemed to be shopping for presents, because it was all, What about this for the girl in the gift store…? What about that for the cook in the diner…? Isn’t this perfect for Lucy’s dream…?
    And then the funky one shrieked, “Oh my God, Shona, is this shirt Bret’s character, or have I gone insane?”
    My head went up like a periscope. Bret’s character? Did she say Bret’s character? Did she say Lucy’s dream? Suddenly, all was clear as a new pane of glass! They were talking about Bret Fork and Lucy Rio – two of the hottest young actors around. These weren’t ordinary women shopping for presents; they had to be costume designers looking for stuff for a film. As I said, I had no real interest in working in movies (not till I’d established myself in the theatre and commanded the right kind of parts), but a great actor has to be open to everything, not just the things she cares about in her soul. There is nothing in human experience that isn’t fuel to the creative furnace.
    I strolled