Peggy bunched up a throw pillow, but Amy raised her hands in surrender. “Don’t shoot,” she pleaded. “You heave that thing at me and I’ll never get up, I’m that tired.”
Peggy hitched herself to the edge of the studio couch and began to towel her legs vigorously. “You relax,” she ordered. “I’ll fix everything.”
Amy collapsed wearily on the bed, content to watch Peggy wait on her. “Well?” Peggy demanded eagerly. Amy had just finished a job filming a television commercial for the Bob Jordan show. “Did you get to meet Bob Jordan?”
Amy threw back her head and laughed. “Bob Jordan’s already done the show in Hollywood. It’s just the commercial they’re doing in New York.”
“But doesn’t he want to see it?” Peggy asked as she poured bath crystals into Amy’s dishpan.
Amy shook her head. “Not this one. Even if he wanted to, he’d never be able to find the studio.” Studio space in New York was at a premium, and as a result, many television commercials were filmed in the most unlikely places.
Peggy laughed. “Where’d they do it?”
“You won’t believe this,” Amy said wonderingly, “but I don’t know. I couldn’t find it again for worlds. All I know is that I had to take a subway for hours and then a bus till I got to the end of the line. Finally I had to wait for a Transcontinental Broadcasting Company car to pick me up and take me to something that looked like a converted garage way out at the end of Brooklyn.”
“I know the place,” Peggy interrupted. “That’s the Greenside Studio. I did an audition there once. It’s a converted stable.”
“It’s still a stable as far as I’m concerned,” Amy replied. She hugged her arms closer to her body. “Brrr! Was it ever cold!”