“D and D?”
“Deaf and dumb.”
Camelia sat back, studying me a moment with a smile on her face.
“Now what?” I asked.
“You’re one of Mr. Bob’s Lana Turners, aren’t you?” she asked.
“What?”
“You know who Lana Turner was?”
“Yes, a movie actress. Actually, one of my father’s favorites.”
I almost bit my tongue after I said that, but it was too late. However, I could see that neither Camelian or Portia cared to hear about my father.
“She was supposedly discovered at a soda fountain in Hollywood. Part of it is myth, and part of it is fact,” Portia said. “I’m one of Mr. Bob’s Lana Turners, but I was discovered at a charity ball. Mrs. Brittany herself found Camelia.”
“Where did Mr. Bob find you?” Camelia asked. “I hope he’s not raiding high schools these days.”
Portia laughed and said, “He’d raid a nunnery if he thought he had someone with potential.”
“He wasn’t waiting outside my high school. I met him in a restaurant.”
“You were a waitress? That’s a first.”
“No, I was eating, and he approached me,” I said. “I’ve never been a waitress.”
“What have you been?” Camelia asked.
“A troublesome teenager,” I said, and they both laughed again.
“Haven’t we all,” Portia said.
“Not like I was—am, I should say.”
Neither spoke for a moment.
“Well, by now, Mrs. Brittany has confirmed whatever police record you have, and it’s not been enough to toss you out,” Portia said. “You can be assured of that. No one pulls the trigger faster on someone than she does.”
“I’m sure you won’t be a troublesome teenager here,” we heard as Randy returned with my dish of poached eggs and toast and a bowl of fruit.
“Eavesdropping, Randy?” Camelia asked him. “That’s very naughty.”
“?’Ear now,” he said, imitating a Cockney accent. I ’ear what I ’ear.”
Camelia and Portia laughed.
“Do you need anything else, princess?” he asked me.
“No, thank you,” I said.
“Ladies?”
“We’re fine, Randy, thank you,” Portia told him. He winked at me and left.
“So where did Mrs. Brittany discover you?” I asked Camelia as I sipped some more coffee.