Paul Charm ended his show to a satisfying round of applause. Then he saw her across the way, once more at the Mississippi Delta Reconstruction stage. Where Emma and Addison performed.
Paul was sure he’d seen her three times. And Emma had mentioned a conversation with a blonde woman. Paul figured it was time to find out who she was and what she was up to.
He didn’t mind the fact that the beautiful, buxom blonde looked like she’d just stepped off a Hollywood movie post from…
“It’s the hair…” Paul muttered to himself as he walked up quietly behind her. “Old Hollywood glam… There’s no way…”
Paul dredged his memories for the name of the woman Emma had mentioned talking to. “Rebecca Flint…”
Paul was ready. He approached quietly from behind as Rebecca watched Emma going on about how churning butter worked.
“Now, it ain’t a’ ever’day thing on account you have to have milk, an’ it wuddn’t always thar when you wanted it…”
Paul was in place. He leaned forward, nearly brushing her hair with the rim of his fedora. "I could swear I've seen you in this joint before… I'd say you've quite the knack for blending in, don't you?"
If Rebecca was startled, she steeled herself and didn’t show it.
“I like it here. Emma… she’s good at what she’s doing.”
“She is.”
Rebecca turned her head slightly. “Too bad she can’t act.”
Paul felt himself surprised, but Rebecca let him off quickly. “I’ve read her Instagram.”
“Have you, then?”
Rebecca turned and faced him. Her smile was confident and Paul was sure she knew something he didn’t know.
“Paul… a game? You guess my birthday and I’ll guess yours?”
“Birthday?” Paul was thinking 1945 Hollywood movie posters again.
“Hold that thought… What do you know about… The Agency?”
Paul tried not to look surprised. “What do you know about the Agency?”
Rebecca smiled. “Meet me across the street at the coffee shop when you get out of costume and I’ll tell you.”
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