Come Dancing by Leslie Wells

heyday beamed down at me. It was fascinating to finally see one of the apartments in the fabled Chelsea, a building I’d heard so many lurid tales about. Actually it looked similar to the Upper West Side apartments I’d been to; no used syringes or emaciated dead girlfriends lying about.
    Isabel returned with mugs of tea and a pretty plate of little cakes. “I was glad to hear a publisher’s interested in my book,” she said. “Lately I’ve had time on my hands to work on it. Before this film role, my agent hadn’t sent me a part to read for in months.”
    I decided not to mention that I wasn’t exactly the publisher. “I think your memoir would have a really big audience; so many people were fans of the show. I never missed an episode, and I watched all the reruns too. How did your audition go?”
    “I won’t know unless I get a callback. I really need this part. My career’s been pretty dormant the past few years.” She sighed and stirred her tea.
    “I’d love to read what you’ve written so far. Do you have an outline?” I edged forward on the cushy sofa and took a nibble of cake.
    “Oh, I don’t believe in outlines; I’m far too much of a free spirit. You’ll see, once we start working together.”
    Isabel took a plant mister from a side table, spritzed a fern and then gave her own face a couple of squirts. Droplets drizzling down her cheeks, she gave me a sharp look. “You seem young to be handling my memoir. Have you edited anything else?”
    Suddenly I felt very small and inexperienced. “I did just get out of school last year, but I dove right in. I worked on Freeman Fyfe’s new book; it’s coming out in September.” I’d used Freeman as my calling card before with skeptical authors.
    “I’m sure that will be a feather in your cap, as will mine,” she commented. “Well, you look like you can understand passion. That’s what my life story’s about—passion, and the places it can take you.” She folded her arms. “So you said you were a longtime fan.”
    Now for the sucking-up . I rotated my plate and took another bite as I concocted my reply. “The show’s impact was huge; it inspired people to think more creatively about education,” I said, inflating its importance in a way I hoped would flatter her. “And you were the reason it was such a gigantic hit. I used to love it when you turned the spelling lesson into a song. Your voice is so beautiful.”
    “Thank you. And yes, it was huge,” Isabel said with a reminiscent smile. “I got letters from kids all over the world. And some surprisingly graphic ones from a number of daddies. I had lots of adventures leading up to it, too. I grew up in a tough Chicago neighborhood with my father and two brothers. My mother wasn’t around.” She handed me some loose pages. “I hope you aren’t squeamish; I started sleeping with older men when I was fourteen. All that will be in the next section.”
    “I’ll bet the public would enjoy anything you’d like to reveal.” If she wanted to bare the seamier side of her life, I figured Harvey would be happy to help with the disrobing.
    Isabel gave herself another blast with the mister. “You have to keep hydrated if you don’t want to turn into an old hag,” she said as beads of water dripped down her face.
    “I don’t think there’s any danger of that. Thanks so much for the tea. I’ll read this tonight and call you tomorrow, if that’s okay.” I unpinned Chess from my lap, and Isabel saw me to the door.
    “When would you be planning to publish it? If I get this role, it would be great to have the book out in time for the film.”
    “First I’ll have to present it to our editorial board to get the go-ahead. Then if it’s approved, I’ll be able to sign it up. But let me read what you’ve written, and we’ll talk.”
    Walking back to the office, I was thrilled the meeting had gone so well and I had her pages in my hot little hands. I hoped Harvey would come around and see