Warpath

The lunch arrived and her prime rib was magnificent. Combined with the hearty Napa cabernet, Jane was in pure heaven. “Oh,” she exclaimed, “this is good.”

“Better than that jailhouse slop?” Danny asked.

“Absolutely.”

While playing her role as the carefree heiress, Cooper had not allowed Jane to eat red meat. He decided the character she played, Kimberly, would only indulge in seafood selections, salads, or gluten-free pasta.

She tried to forget what her lawyer Paul had said, that cops may be following her, but paranoia won out. She couldn’t help but watch the door and wonder if someone in the restaurant was spying them.

“I’ve been in the joint a few times myself,” Danny admitted.

“When?” Nancy asked with an elbow to his ribs.

“For stupid things when I was young.”

“Like what?”

“You don’t want to know.”

Her mother had been with Danny for almost a year now. It seemed as if she’d found her perfect soul-mate. Jane liked Danny’s laid back manner. He was authentic, and didn’t care what anyone thought of him.

Her mother turned to Jane and said, “Danny and I had an idea. We thought you could be a big help to us. We need a secretary, a Girl Friday, but it’s more than that. When we’re on the road we need someone who can hold down the fort back home. Send us stuff, set up hotels and make travel arrangements, that sort of thing. You’ll be our coordinator and live with us in Sarasota. We’re only on the road three or four months a year, so the rest of the time we’ll all be together.”

“Florida?”

“Oh, Jane, it’s so beautiful there. You’re going to love it.”

This proposition did not thrill her. It was moving back home, and that meant failure. Besides, this would stall her acting pursuits. As Jane chewed on her prime rib she entertained visions of pink flamingos, alligators, and orange groves—all the iconic images of the Sunshine State. The more she thought about it, the more she realized there was very little keeping her in Los Angeles. No job, no boyfriend. Nothing.

“And there’s a clown college there,” Nancy said.

“What?”

“A clown college. Maybe you can study there.”

Danny offered an explanation. “It’s associated with Barnum and Bailey. The circus spent their winters in Sarasota, back in the day. Their headquarters are still based there.”

Jane was horrified. Film, stage, and television were her true passion. Working as a clown was just a way to make a few bucks. She sipped her wine and tried to fathom what clowns could possibly study. Balloon animals? Bullshit.

Her mother added, “A lot of circus folks retire in the area. There’s a darling midget couple in the neighborhood. Very nice people. And they have two normal-sized children. All grown up now.”

“We’re supposed to call them little people,” Danny reminded her.

“Why?”

“Because that’s what they prefer to be called these days.” Danny waved to the waiter for another round, then in a lowered voice, “It’s politically correct, little people, not midgets.”

Nancy laughed to herself and leaned into Jane. “Go figure. I guess I’m not PC.”

“Hell no,” he said, teasing her.

Having eaten the meal combined with two glasses of wine Jane was suddenly very tired. The plan was to get her a room at the Best Western where Danny and Nancy were staying. The three of them climbed into Danny’s pickup and drove to the motel.

“We’ve already missed qualifying rounds in Denver.” her mother said. “So we’ll drive back home on Tuesday because Danny has some business to attend on Monday.”

“I’ve got to meet some top fuel people, out

in Lancaster,” he explained.