Funny Girl

CHAPTER FOUR

Besides the bad memories, there was another reason Evie never went back to Crayton: it was a really small town. Everyone who lived there now knew everyone else, and really had nothing better to do than to talk about everyone else. Evie was the closest they could get to having a real live celebrity, so it was impossible to go anywhere without being accosted for her autograph or talked to death about how her "saint of a mother" had been so proud of her. Some people even had some of her earlier skits memorized. It was kind of horrifying. That was why she loved New York so much; people didn't get into your business like that. You could walk by a thousand people in one day, and not one of them would look you in the eye and say, "How come you never visited your mother when she was on her deathbed?"

Now she was back, and already people were recognizing her, despite the scarf she'd hastily tied around her head and the dark sunglasses. She'd checked into the Holiday Inn – Crayton's only large chain hotel – and the clerk had broken into a huge grin upon pulling up her reservation. "Welcome home, Evie Pinto!" the woman had squealed, which had called attention to her and provoked a situation where she had had to turn on the whole Evie Pinto act and sign some autographs. She wasn't ON, and when she wasn't ON, Evie Pinto exhausted her to the bone. She just wanted to meet with this lawyer, sign the papers, and say goodbye to 2247 and Crayton forever. Every moment spent here made that more and more necessary to her.

She took a quick shower and changed into pair of dark wash skinny jeans, with a simple boat neck long sleeve t-shirt in charcoal gray. She put on a little mascara and lip balm, and let her hair down, so that it hung in loose waves around her shoulders. She slipped her feet into a pair of red leather flats, grabbed her purse, and left the room. The meeting with Conlan Industries was taking place in the Holiday Inn's conference room, since there was no other suitable place in Crayton. Evie was glad of it; perhaps she could get this over with quickly enough to be on the last flight out today.

##

"Miss Franklin?"

A man in a navy blue suit and canary yellow tie was standing in front of the conference room; he looked up from his Blackberry as she approached. He had graying blonde hair and a tired looking face.

"Yes, hello –"

"I'm Edward Filbert, real estate attorney for Conlan Industries," he shook her hand briefly, gesturing toward the partially open door to the conference room. "Appreciate your coming down to meet us on such short notice."

"Um, you're welcome... I – " Evie stopped dead in the threshold of the room. Seated at the large laminate wood conference table was that Harry guy. The Harry from The Cackle. Rich obnoxious guy who was going to buy the place. She stood there for a moment, her lips parted slightly. At this point, both Edward and Harry were staring at her expectantly. Harry stood, and in a few long strides was standing before her with his hand out.

"Miss Frank, my name is Harry Conlan. Pleased to meet you. I hope your trip down was pleasant?"

Evie stared at him for a moment, then blinked herself back into reality. He was either a great liar or he didn't recognize her. She shook his hand, noting that it was smooth and cool.

"It was fine, thanks." Evie took the seat that Edward pulled out for her, and folded her hands on the table, glancing at the stack of papers the men had between them, and then at the window, which had a pleasant view of a brick wall. She tried not to look at Harry at all. He was even more handsome in a fully lit room; it was like he had stepped off the page of a catalogue. She could imagine him standing against the sail of a yacht, cashmere sweater draped casually across his shoulders, intense blue eyes seeking out the horizon. The picture made her grin slightly; yes he was a good-looking guy. But he was obnoxious. Really obnoxious. And currently, they had business to conduct. If he wanted to pretend like they had never met, that was fine by her. After today, she'd probably never see him again anyway.