All for a Sister by Allison Pittman Read Free Book Online Page A

of the way—or both. She parked the car in front of the low-ceilinged, plain white buildinglabeled Offices of Rolling Arts Entertainment , Werner Ostermann’s production company.
    Celeste took a mirror from her purse and checked her lipstick and her hair, smiling at different angles while batting her eyes. In a spirit of camaraderie, Dana did the same, holding her little square mirror far enough away to be able to see most of her face. The brisk ride had brought a hint of color to her cheeks, and her hat managed to drift a bit to a most becoming angle. With an unsteady hand, she pulled the lid off the tube of lipstick and touched it to the center of her bottom lip.
    “That’s it,” Celeste said with a gentleness Dana had never heard from her before. “Just at the bottom, where your lips are their fullest? And then the top. Then do this.” She mashed her own vermilion lips together, hiding them into one thin line, then popped them out again. Dana followed suit, feeling more self-conscious about this act than she had the actual application.
    “Perfect,” Celeste said, and a quick check to her reflection brought Dana to the same conclusion. Maybe not perfect, but better. Brighter.
    She almost smiled, saying, “Thank you,” as she fastened the clasp on her pocketbook.
    A young man wearing something like a uniform had arrived to open the car door for Dana, then ran to the opposite side to do the same for Celeste, who acknowledged him with a singular movement that encapsulated a wink and a shrug and a curtsy. He tipped his hat and waggled his eyebrows and muttered something about getting behind the wheel of that chassis sometime, prompting her to slap him playfully on the shoulder before beckoning Dana to follow.
    “Ma’am,” he said with all the deference a young man would have for his elder. Still, Dana kept a wide berth as she passed.
    Inside the tidy office, Miss Lynch looked up from her typewriter, her expression not changing in the least.
    “Good afternoon, Miss Lundgren.” Then, noticing Celeste, her face lit up. “And Miss DuFrane! What a wonderful surprise to see you here.”
    “Hello, Kippy.” Celeste extended her hand. “We’re here to see Mr. Ostermann. Is he in?”
    “Just one moment.” She stood, tucked a pencil behind her ear, and made brisk work of walking from her desk to the door with his name printed in thick, black letters on the clouded glass.
    We? The thought of telling her story, in all its detail, in the presence of this girl of all people was enough to freeze every unspoken word. Dana swallowed, summoning her courage. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to come in with me.”
    “Really? I think it would be marvelous. Especially if he decides to let me star in the picture. I’m a part of it, after all.”
    “You’re not a part of what I’m telling him. These are things—events—before you were born. And after, I suppose. Still, they’ve nothing to do with you.”
    “But if I’m to play you—”
    “Eager as ever, I see.” Werner Ostermann stood in the doorway to his office. His shirtsleeves were rolled up to the elbow, and an unlit cigarette dangled from his fingers. “Casting yourself before there is even a script?”
    “Well, a girl can’t wait around forever, can she?” She held out her hand, sending a cascade of bangles clattering toward her elbow as Ostermann brought it to his lips.
    Dana offered no such opportunity, but he greeted her with no less warmth before returning his attentions to Celeste.
    “I had lunch with Frank Borzage yesterday, you know. He said you did fine work in The Dixie Merchant .”
    “Just a bit part,” Celeste said, pouting. “But I know I could do more, given the opportunity.”
    “Time will tell.” He spoke with the gentleness of a father, closing the conversation but leaving plenty of room for hope, as was evidenced by Celeste’s triumphant grin.
    “It will indeed.”
    “Now, I will be occupied with Miss Lundgren for