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happen to have picked up the right project from the stack that we could utilize with viral fame and game.” Izzy Goldfarb and his usual machine-gun style of talking.
    “Izzy, that was terrible—like a head transplant mixed with time travel,” Louise said.
    “What do you mean? It was hilarious. Both the Madge Hardy reel and Fallon’s retort.”
    “But that wasn’t me in those videos. That was a young girl, fresh to Hollywood, learning steps. Not what I am today.”
    “Lou, baby, don’t be a sore loser. You were young and adorable. Adorable! Any news is good news. Aren’t you curious about the project I have in mind?”
    “Do I have a choice not to hear it?”
    “A mother-daughter body-switch comedy.”
    “I fear the worst, but for now I hope that I’m the daughter and Meryl Streep plays my mother?”
    Izzy stopped a second, confused. “Meryl Streep as your mother? Very funny—don’t be silly. You don’t need to cover the same target group twice. No, Miley Cyrus is the daughter and you are the mother.”
    Watershed day: I am offered my first mother role!
    “I have Josh calling on the other line. Have to go, Iz! Talk to you tomorrow.” Louise closed her eyes again.
    “Is that a no?” was the last thing she heard Izzy calling out.
    She took Josh’s call.
    “I haven’t laughed that hard for a long time, Lou,” were his first words.
    “Why are you all so cruel?” Louise sighed and switched off the TV. “Izzy is high on ratings and social-media indicators, and the USA had a good late-night laugh.”
    “Come on, we all have these reels in our closets. You should have seen some of my first stuff. I might even publish it myself, come to think of it. You set a new trend.”
    Louise switched off the lights in the living room and went to the garden bay window, the city shimmering below her. Usually the city lights felt like a companion; now they looked far away.
    “Are you really concerned about this, Lou?” Josh asked when she had stayed silent.
    “You know, I am. Not sure why I’m not above these jokes, actually. Am I ten miles high and rising so that I can’t relate anymore? Not even to my own past?”
    “Lou, go to bed before you drown in your self-pity. Hang up the phone. See you tomorrow. Sweet dreams.”
    She ended the call, caught herself staring at the caller list, but then turned again to look into the dark garden toward the city that had made her famous.

four
    An Unexpected Trip

Louise
    Louise’s Madge Hardy roast and the Fallon skit were the talk of the morning on the set, accompanied with a lot of backslapping and descriptions of own sins-of-youth, which made Louise feel a little better. But she was astonished by her negative reaction to those testimonials of her past.
    Roger had a creative brainstorm before lunch and canceled the afternoon shootings, and Louise found herself with a rare hole in her otherwise packed schedule. She was sitting with Josh and Emile over lunch when the production assistant told them the news.
    Emile immediately started browsing through his iPad, which always held a long list of requests, for interviews and various celebrity appearances, but Louise waved him off. “What’s on tonight?” she asked instead.
    “Party at Studio on Sunset, JLo’s fortieth birthday, once more,” Emile said. “Donatella had asked that you wear her new black one.”
    “Cancel it.”
    Emile looked shocked. “Are you sure?”
    “Yes.” Louise raised her hand. “I know what Izzy and you are going to say: Every appearance for press and public is another hundred grand in honorary and continues to feed my social-media exposure. But after last night, I . . .” Louise stopped. She was Louise Waters; she didn’t need to explain herself to her assistant.
    Josh saved her with a well-timed interruption. “Twelve hours to spare, sounds like heaven to me.”
    “You want to go home?” Emile asked and speed-dialed the car service to arrange transport and then Izzy to reshuffle the