Starstruck by Rachel Shukert Page A

rose-colored bill. It was smaller and printed on more delicate paper than regular money, and trimmed all around with silver foil. One side was printed with the Olympus logo of a lightning bolt surrounded by a crown of laurel leaves, beneath which was the Olympus motto:
Like Heaven Itself
. On the other side was a miniature portrait of Diana Chesterfield in a diamond tiara. Her image, limpidly beautiful as always,was encircled by a narrow ribbon upon which was engraved in elaborate cursive so minuscule it could have been written by a fairy:
Diana Chesterfield, Box Office Queen 1937
.
    God
, Margaret thought,
she’s even on the money. If only she were here in real life
.
    “You get issued a certain sum every payday, along with your paycheck,” Stanley continued. “The props department prints up a new batch every January first, with the faces of the stars who did the biggest box office the previous year. Mr. Karp started it up ten years ago, when the silents went out. Everyone was awful blue back then, and he thought it would help morale. You know, incentive. Your pictures make money, you get your face on it.” He took in Margaret’s rapt expression. “I’m guessing you’re a fan of Miss Chesterfield’s?”
    “Oh yes.” Margaret nodded fervently. “She’s my absolute favorite actress of all time.”
    “You don’t say. Well, in that case, you can keep that one. I can never spend ’em all anyway.”
    “You don’t think we’ll
see
Miss Chesterfield, do you?” Margaret asked hopefully.
    Stanley’s eyes darted sharply to the side. “What do you mean by that?”
    Margaret’s heart leapt in her chest. It had slipped her mind in all the excitement.
Wally the soda jerk was right
, she thought.
There
is
something fishy going on with Diana
. “N-nothing,” she stammered. “Just that I’m a huge fan, and it would be such a thrill to meet her.”
    “Well, perhaps we can arrange something. In the future, of course.” Stanley gave her a tight smile. “But look at the time!We’ve got to get you into wardrobe or there’s going to be trouble. Hey, watch it!”
    There was a loud skidding noise, and a golf cart pulled up beside them, nearly plowing Margaret over. A round-faced man in a flat cap hung out the side.
    “Jesus, Al!” Stanley exclaimed. “Watch where you’re driving that thing!”
    “Whatever you say, Chimney,” said Al. He looked Margaret up and down with his beady eyes. “Who’s the twist?”
    “Tryout. Stage fourteen. I’m the walker.”
    “Ditch her. I’m on orders. Julius needs you in publicity stat. We got a major SOS regarding the Ice Princess, and the boss says there’s no time to lose.”
    SOS?
Margaret glanced down at the bill she still clutched in her hand. Diana’s crowned image was drained of color, but you could still somehow feel the clear ice blue of her eyes.
The Ice Princess?
Were they talking about Diana?
    Stanley turned to her, a newly tense expression on his bony face. “It’s soundstage fourteen. All the way down this road, then make a left. You think you can find it?”
    “Chimney!
Tempus fugit!
”
    “You go ahead,” Margaret assured him. “I’ll be fine.”
    But as soon as they sped away, the well-ordered streets of Olympus seemed to bleed into chaos. Swarms of funny little carts, identical to the one that had carried off Stanley, sped by, laden with racks of costumes or camera equipment. Script assistants on bicycles whizzed by with piles of paper balanced precariously on the handlebars, sometimes stacked so high she wondered how they could see where they were going. A gleamingwhite limousine made its stately progress up the street, perhaps bearing a star deemed too important to be seen traveling—at least, not before the hair and makeup department had worked its magic. Margaret tried to peer through its darkened windows for a better look. Could that be Diana? Had that been Diana? And would that be Margaret herself someday?
    Stop it, Margaret
, she said to