“Well, Will and I were never Madonna, Beyoncé, or Lady Gaga,” Ella pointed out. “We were just an indie band with a moderately big following.”
Stephanie looked confused for a moment. “So, you never requested anything insane backstage?”
“Did some of these people send along their demands for the Nantucket Jubilee?” Ella asked, flipping through the stack of papers.
“A few actors and actresses asked for specific brands of water and champagne,” Stephanie said.
“That shouldn’t be too difficult,” Ella said as she read over the small list of prominent actors and actresses, all of whom had been in major motion pictures in the past three years. Two of them had been nominated for Oscars.
“I’m going to start calling these venues,” Stephanie said, pointing to the first stack. “Maybe you could go through that stack and book hotel suites for each director, actor, and screenwriter?”
Ella saluted Stephanie and said, “Aye, aye, captain.”
Over the next forty minutes, Stephanie and Ella worked diligently. Between phone calls, they nibbled on cheese grits and French toast, sipped their coffee, and gave one another thumbs-ups.
“Good afternoon, this is Nantucket Suites. My name is Rita. How may I help you?” A woman greeted Ella warmly and succinctly.
“Hi!” Ella said. “My name is Ella, and I’d like to book a room for one of the Nantucket Jubilee’s celebrity guests.”
“How exciting,” Rita said. “May I have a name and your dates?”
“The actress is named Isabella Thornberg. She arrives Wednesday, October 5th, and will stay until Monday, October 10th.”
“Marvelous. I look forward to her appearance inSweet Relief.”
“Oh!” Ella was surprised that Rita knew the name of the film. Ella herself hadn’t yet glanced at the film list. “That’s a good title.”
“Isn’t it? I’ve heard it’s a psychological thriller,” Rita said, suddenly becoming chummy. “Although you know, Marca Conrad’s films are never what they seem to be on the surface. Sometimes, I watch them two nights in a row, just to see them from different perspectives.”
Ella’s jaw dropped. Here she was again. Marcia Conrad.
“Oh, sorry. I’m not supposed to get so animated on the phone,” Rita said, now dialing back her excitement. “You said Isabella Thornberg from the fifth to the tenth.”
“I did.” Ella’s throat felt terribly tight.
“Is Marcia staying here at the Nantucket Suites as well? I heard a little rumor on a film website that she would be making an appearance.”
“Let me check,” Ella said, flipping through the rest of the stack of papers frantically until she found Marcia Conrad’s file. There, Marcia’s horrific yet beautiful smile blared at her in black and white. Beside Marcia’s name read:No hotel booking required; Ms. Conrad has arranged private accommodations.
“It looks like Ms. Conrad already has something arranged,” Ella said.
“Oh, shoot.” On the other end of the line came the sound of Rita’s fingers across a keyboard. “I have Isabella all booked for you, though. Can I have an email address so that I can pass along that information?”
Ella worked on autopilot, giving the Nantucket Jubilee official email to Rita. After that, she wished Rita a beautiful day and jumped off the phone. For a full thirty seconds, she stared down at the sinister, smiling face of Marcia Conrad.
Marcia was making it very difficult for Ella not to believe she was up to something.
Stephanie was now off the phone, jotting notes to herself and nibbling at the French toast. “You’ve been such a big help. I can’t even begin to tell you how much better I feel…”
But Ella just shook her head in shock.
Stephanie’s eyes jumped back toward Ella’s face. She stopped chewing. “Are you all right?”
Ella sensed that all of the blood had dropped from her face. She felt woozy. “Yeah.”
Stephanie spotted Marcia Conrad’s file directly below Ella. “Do you know who that is?” Stephanie asked brightly.
“Um. I think so?” Ella lied.