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Michelle said, drawing everyone’s attention to the black limousine that rolled past the window. “He’s got his own driver.”
    Delores looked envious. “That must be nice, especially in the winter.”
    “You said it!” Carrie agreed. “I’d love to have a driver who’d warm up the car before he came to get me.”
    “A driver would be great,” Lisa said. “You’d never have to worry about getting a good parking spot. If there wasn’t anywhere to park, he could drop you off right in front of wherever you were going.”
    “That’s what I do now,” Herb groused, but his loving smile told his new wife that his complaint was far from serious. “I guess that makes me your chauffeur.”
    “Maybe it does. I’ll look around for one of those cute little hats with the stiff brim.”
    “Dean Lawrence’s chauffeur isn’t just a chauffeur,” Michelle spoke up. “His name is Connor and he’s listed on the credits as a production assistant, just like me, but he’s really a combination driver, bodyguard, and secretary.”
    Hannah turned to smile at her youngest sister. “I’ll bet he makes more money than you do.”
    “Lots more.” Michelle gave a little laugh. “Connor makes scale for extras, too. He gets a walk-on part in every movie Mr. Lawrence directs.”
    “D. L. is practically a household name in Hollywood,” Andrea informed them. “ Variety just did an article on him.”
    “D. L.?” Hannah turned to her sister in surprise.
    “ Variety ?” Michelle asked, picking up on another part of Andrea’s comment.
    “D.L. is how Daily Variety refers to Dean Lawrence,” Andrea explained to Hannah. Then she turned to Michelle. “And yes, I read Variety every day. I subscribed right after you told us that they were shooting C.I.C. here.”
    “What’s C.I.C.?” Hannah asked, wishing her sister wouldn’t use so many initials.
    “ Crisis in Cherrywood . That’s the name of the movie. What I want to know is how a little Indy Prod like this landed such a big-name director. After Three Minutes to Paradise , everyone thought he’d go on to another big box office success.”
    “Connections,” Michelle answered Andrea’s question. “It’s all about who you know and who owes you. I asked one of the prop guys about that and he said there’s some sort of family connection between Mr. Lawrence and the man who financed the film. He didn’t know the details, but he said that’s why Mr. Lawrence signed on.”
    “I wonder if there’s been any trouble yet,” Andrea mused. “In the article I read, they called D. L. the Bad Boy Director . He’s got a huge ego and last year he was named the director that most actors love to hate.”
    Michelle laughed. “Mr. Barton told me that, but he said there’s an upside. Mr. Lawrence is really hard on his actors, but he makes them look good because he always gets great performances out of them.”
    “As interesting as this is, I’ve got to go.” Hannah glanced at the clock and slid off her stool. “I promised Edna I’d be at the community center in less than five minutes.”
    Andrea got up from the table. “Do you need any help? I have to go home to pick up Tracey.”
    “Not really. The food’s already down there, and the only things I need to bring are napkins and tablecloths.”
    Hannah said good-bye to everyone and hurried through the kitchen, grabbing her parka coat on the run. Once she’d successfully negotiated the ruts in her alley, she rolled down her window and took a deep gulp of air. The breeze was ice cold, but it felt fresh, full of promise and new beginnings. Almost everyone in town was looking forward to a brush with celebrity and a tiny taste of fame if they were lucky enough to be chosen as extras. The size of the part didn’t really matter. They just wanted to appear in the film. And when it was all over and Lake Eden had been captured forever on film, they would exercise bragging rights with friends and relatives who lived more humdrum