—Arranged by the studio.

—Do they normally tell you who to dine with?

—Oh, they’ll tell me who to dine with, all right. They’ll pick the restaurant. The table. They practically pick my entrée.

Eve looked a little surprised.

—I’m on contract, Olivia explained. When you’re on contract the studio doesn’t just decide what roles you take; it weighs in on whatever might affect your public image: what you wear, how you spend your weekends, who you spend them with . . .

Eve whistled.

—You should have the world on a string, sister.

—It’s the other way around, I’m afraid.

A perfect example sprang to mind, and Olivia almost launched into its petty details. But she regretted having allowed herself to go on at such length already. What a prima donna she must have sounded like. Complaining about the life of a Hollywood star. So she shook her head and said nothing.

But Eve had been watching her closely.

—Speak now, she warned, or forever hold your peace.

Olivia met her gaze.

—All right, she said after a moment. Have you read Gone with the Wind?

—I’m not much of a reader.

—Well, it’s a bestseller and they’re making it into a movie at Selznick. The main character is a spoiled, tempestuous figure—and it seems like every actress in Hollywood is vying to play her except for me. But the second lead, she’s a counterweight to Scarlett. She’s more upright and sweet, yet every bit as strong. At any rate, the director thinks I’m perfect for the part; and I think he may be right.

—Sounds great.

—But you see, it’s a violation of my contract to even talk with Cukor. He’s gone so far as to suggest that I read for the part covertly. He wants me to put on a scarf and tinted glasses and come up the back drive of his house on a Sunday afternoon—like a thief, or a spy.

—Even better! said Eve.

Olivia laughed, but shook her head.

—Jack Warner, my studio chief, would never let me be in that film. He’s said as much already. I think he’s furious he’s not making the movie himself. But you have to understand that this sort of thing goes part and parcel with the rest of it. And it’s not like I’ll be sitting on my hands. They have me slotted for two other parts at Warner this spring.

As Olivia spoke, she could tell that Eve felt a sense of disappointment. Perhaps to mask it, Eve took a drink from the flask and then turned to the window where the marquees had given way to the grand eucalyptus trees at the edge of the Brentwood cul de sacs. When Eve turned back she said simply:

—Don’t be your own worst enemy, Livvy.

Olivia nodded and looked out her own window.