Free Unfinished Symphony by V. C. Andrews Page A

no brothers or sisters," I
said.
"So? People manufacture their pasts here. It's as
if they stepped out of a movie of their own making," he continued. "Before you give up, I'd try again. Why
don't you try calling her later?"
"I didn't get a phone number," I said.
"She'll be listed, especially if she wants to be an
actress or model. She wants to be easily contacted." I nodded.
"I guess we should get back," I said. "Dorothy
wasn't too happy about my shooting off right away as
it was."
"Sure," he said. He flashed me one of his warm
smiles, took my hand and led me back to the
limousine. When he opened the door for me, the
people who were playing cards looked up to see who I
was and drivers slowed their cars to glance our way.
Everyone here was so eager to spot a celebrity, I
thought. For the first time since we had arrived, I
actually wished I was one. Was I starting to catch the
disease?
When I returned to the Livingston's mansion,
Dorothy came rushing down the hallway to greet me. "What happened? I've been sitting on pins and
needles waiting. I should have had Spike call me from
the limousine. Weil?" she asked.
"I still don't know anything for sure," I said and
explained what had happened and why I was filled
with new doubts.
"You poor thing. To come all this way and be
so disappointed. Why couldn't that dreadful woman
have been there?" she said, bunching her lips together. "Spike says I should try to call her now." "He does? Well, I suppose you can do that, too.
But we're going to have dinner in about a half hour.
Philip's already home and getting dressed."
"Dressed?"
"We always dress for dinner. Don't worry. Just
put on the nicest thing you have to wear," she said.
"Tomorrow, I'm taking you to Adroni's on Rodeo to
get you something fashionable."
"Oh, I really don't think--"
"Remember," she sang, "I get deaf."
I smiled.
"Thank you, Dorothy."
"My sister, the psychic, you should excuse the
expression, called before to see if you arrived all right.
I asked her if she was such a psychic, how come she
doesn't know the answers to her questions before she
asks them." Dorothy laughed at her own joke. I
smiled, imagining Holly's reaction. "I forgot all about
the little gift you handed me at the airport, so I had to
pretend I had looked at it. I did a few minutes ago. Where does she expect me to wear these things?" she added shaking her head. "Anyway, I told her you would call her tomorrow. She was off to do some sort
of hoodoo, voodoo thing."
"Thank you," I said, heading for the stairway.
"I'll be right down."
"Don't worry yourself about the woman, dear. If
she's not your mother, you're still welcome to stay
here and enjoy Los Angeles for as long as you like." "Thank you," I called back and hurried up the
stairs to my plush room.
It wasn't until I plopped myself down on the
bed that I realized just how tired I was. Young or not,
I finally realized the time difference. After all, for me
it was three hours later than it was for everyone here.
I'll just rest for a few minutes, I thought and lay back,
closing my eyes. A sharp rap on my door woke me
immediately. I sprang into a sitting position. "What? Yes?"
The door opened and Alec gazed in at me. "Mr. and Mrs. Livingston are waiting for you in
the dining room," he announced.
"Oh. Oh, I fell asleep! I'll be right there," I cried
and hopped off the bed. He grimaced and closed the
door.
I splashed cold water on my face, practically
tore off my blouse and jeans, and pulled on my dress.
I ran my brush through my hair once and then hurried
out of the room and down the stairs.
The Livingstons were at the far end of the long
table. Mr. Livingston sat at the end. He was dressed in
a dark sport coat and navy blue tie. His thinning dark
brown hair was parted on the right side and cut neatly
around his ears. He glanced up at me, his hazel eyes
sweeping over me quickly before turning downward
again to look over the bridge of his narrow, bony
nose, under which he wore a well-trimmed mustache.
He had thin