But it does matter, Jill thought, filled with a sudden excitement. Why hadn’t it occurred to her before? A woman agent! Someone who had gone through all the traumas, someone who would understand what it was like for a young girl just starting out. She would be more sympathetic than any man could ever be.
“I see you brought your portfolio,” Miss Dunning was saying. “May I look at it?”
“Certainly,” Jill said. She handed it over.
The woman sat down, opened the portfolio and began to turn the pages, nodding approval. “The camera likes you.”
Jill did not know what to say. “Thank you.”
The agent studied the pictures of Jill in a bathing suit. “You’ve got a good figure. That’s important. Where you from?”
“Texas,” Jill said. “Odessa.”
“How long have you been in Hollywood, Jill?”
“About two months.”
“How many agents have you been to?”
For an instant, Jill was tempted to lie, but there was nothing but compassion and understanding in the woman’s eyes. “About thirty, I guess.”
The agent laughed. “So you finally got down to Rose Dunning. Well, you could have done worse. I’m not MCA or William Morris, but I keep my people working.”
“I haven’t had any acting experience.”
The woman nodded, unsurprised. “If you had, you’d be at MCA or William Morris. I’m a kind of breaking-in station. I get the kids with talent started, and then the big agencies snatch them away from me.”
For the first time in weeks, Jill began to feel a sense of hope. “Do—do you think you’d be interested in handling me?” she asked.
The woman smiled. “I have clients working who aren’t half as pretty as you. I think I can put you to work. That’s the only way you’ll ever get experience, right?”
Jill felt a glow of gratitude.
“The trouble with this damned town is that they won’t give kids like you a chance. All the studios scream that they’re desperate for new talent, and then they put up a big wall and won’t let anybody in. Well, we’ll fool ’em. I know of three things you might be right for. A daytime soap, a bit in the Toby Temple picture and a part in the new Tessie Brand movie.”
Jill’s head was spinning. “But would they—”
“If I recommend you, they’ll take you. I don’t send clients who aren’t good. They’re just bit parts, you understand, but it will be a start.”
“I can’t tell you how grateful I’d be,” Jill said.
“I think I’ve got the soap-opera script here.” Rose Dunning lumbered to her feet, pushing herself out of her chair, and walked into the next room, beckoning Jill to follow her.
The room was a bedroom with a double bed in a corner under a window and a metal filing cabinet in the opposite corner. Rose Dunning waddled over to the filing cabinet, opened a drawer, took out a script and brought it over to Jill.
“Here we are. The casting director is a good friend of mine, and if you come through on this, he’ll keep you busy.”
“I’ll come through,” Jill promised fervently.
The agent smiled and said, “Course, I can’t send over a pig in a poke. Would you mind reading for me?”
“No. Certainly not.”
The agent opened the script and sat down on the bed. “Let’s read this scene.”
Jill sat on the bed next to her and looked at the script.
“Your character is Natalie. She’s a rich girl who’s married to a weakling. She decides to divorce him, and he won’t let her. You make your entrance here.”
Jill quickly scanned the scene. She wished she had had a chance to study the script overnight or even for an hour. She was desperately anxious to make a good impression.
“Ready?”
“I—I think so,” Jill said. She closed her eyes and tried to think like the character. A rich woman. Like the mothers of the friends that she had grown up with, people who took it for granted that they could have anything they wanted in life, believing that other people were there for their convenience. The Cissy Toppings of the world. She opened her eyes, looked down at the script and began to read. “I want to talk to you, Peter.”
“Can’t it wait?” That was Rose Dunning, cueing her.
“I’m afraid it’s waited too long already. I’m catching a plane for Reno this afternoon.”
“Just like that?”
“No. I’ve been trying to catch that plane for five years, Peter. This time I’m going to make it.”
Jill felt Rose Dunning’s hand patting her thigh. “That’s very good,” the agent said, approvingly. “Keep reading.” She let her hand rest on Jill’s leg.
“Your problem is that you haven’t grown up yet. You’re still playing games. Well, from now on, you’re going to have to play by yourself.”
Rose Dunning’s hand was stroking her thigh. It was disconcerting. “Fine. Go on,” she said.
“I—I don’t want you to try to get in touch with me ever again. Is that quite clear?”
The hand was stroking Jill faster, moving toward her groin. Jill lowered the script and looked at Rose Dunning. The woman’s face was flushed and her eyes had a glazed look in them.
“Keep reading,” she said huskily.
“I—I can’t,” Jill said. “If you—”
The woman’s hand began to move faster. “This is to get you in the mood, darling. It’s a sexual fight, you see. I want to feel the sex in you.” Her hand was pressing harder now, moving between Jill’s legs.