Chapter Two

"So what's the big secret that you couldn't tell me at the office, Penny?" Bernadette nibbled at her salad. "I'm not so sure I like keeping secrets from the others."

Penny lifted her wine glass and chugged the red liquid. She swallowed audibly. "I know; you're probably right." She shook her head. "This is a big mistake. It wouldn't work anyway."

"What wouldn't work?"

"Never mind. Let's just eat our dinner."

"No. You need to tell me what this is all about," Bernadette leaned forward and placed her napkin atop the table. "I told Howard we were both working late. He's watching Halley so this had better be good."

Leaning forward as well, Penny shoved her plate to the side. Her voice lowered, "I've met someone."

"What?" Bernadette's squeaky voice bleated. "Tell me who and I'll beat the stuffing out of him."

A few restaurant patrons turned to look in their direction.

Penny's eyes widened. "Ssshhh. No, not like that. Not like that at all. I met him today at Dr. Bell's office. He's a filmmaker." She removed the business card from her purse and slid it across the table.

Bernadette cocked her head and adjusted her glasses. "I thought you had given up on being in actress."

"Well, I thought so too. I mean, well, if an opportunity fell into my lap I would have to take it, right?"

"Has this Mr. Kingsley offered you a part or something?"

Stabbing her fork into a lettuce leaf, Penny sighed. "Not exactly."

"What do you mean, 'not exactly'?"

"I kind of said some really bad things to him."

"Why?"

"I thought he was hitting on me. I didn't believe him until I looked him up on the Internet. He really is who he says he is, Bernadette."

"So you apologized to him and then he offered you a part?"

"No. They called him for his appointment and by the time I got finished hocking that new migraine pill to the doctor, Mr. Kingsley had left the building."

"Oh, that migraine pill. I heard it had some side effects like nosebleeds, blurred vision and dry mouth. It also turns your pee a light purple. I think I'd rather have the migraine."

"Bernadette. Please. Can we focus here? We're talking about my future now." Penny rolled and unrolled her napkin.

"Sorry. I don't understand. If he didn't offer you anything then what's the big secret? Why are we even here?"

"I want to use your cell phone to call him."

"My cell phone? Why can't you call him on your own phone?"

"I don't want Leonard to find out about this."

"But Leonard doesn't go through your phone, does he? I thought you had a better relationship than that."

"We do and he doesn't. He's never done that before but just in case he decided to I wouldn't want him to question me about it."

"Then why don't you just tell him?"

"But what if I call Mr. Kingsley and it turns out to be nothing? You know how Leonard makes such a big deal out of everything. He'll want to throw a party and celebrate before I even audition. This way, if it does turn out to be nothing then no one will have hurt feelings."

"No one?"

Penny buttered a piece of bread and plopped it into her mouth. "What do you mean?"

"I know you really don't enjoy your job with Zangen. You've always really wanted to be an actress. Do you remember the argument that you and Leonard had about your acting career? Do you remember how he'd said he didn't think you would make it? Do you remember how upset you were?"

"Yeah, so?" She buttered another piece of bread.

"You don't want Leonard to find out that you still have dreams, do you?"

Penny straightened her back. "I never said anything like that."

"You didn't have to say it."

A balding, middle-aged waiter with a definite paunch stepped up to the table. "Would either of you ladies care for more wine?" Overhead lighting bounced off the green bottle in the man's hands.

Bernadette, ever polite, shook her head. "No, thank you."

"I'll take another glass." Penny squinted and looked at the nametag on the server's uniform. "So, Graham, did you always want to be a waiter?" She glanced at Bernadette.

"Oh, Heaven's no," he retorted. "I tried my hand at acting for quite a while but nothing ever panned out, no matter how hard I tried. I did a couple of commercials and played a bit part in this horribly corny movie years ago. But working here," he waved a hand around the chaotic room, "has been my mainstay for almost twenty-four years now." Graham lowered his voice. "Truth be told, I absolutely hate it but, hey, you gotta pay the bills somehow, right?"

Watching him pour more wine into her glass, Penny licked her lips. "If you had the opportunity to do something grand in the acting field, if someone offered you something right now, would you take it?"

"Just like that," Graham snapped his fingers and smiled but then his eyebrows knit together. "Are you somebody?"

Smiling back, Penny looked up at the man. "I hope to be."

Wordlessly, Bernadette handed the aspiring actress her cell phone.

"Please, don't tell Leonard about this. Don't even tell Howard."

"I never said anything like that," Bernadette said under her breath.

"Hello? Yes, this is Penelope Hofstadter. Is Mr. Kingsley in, please? Oh, well, then could I set up an appointment to speak with him? No, it's not urgent. Well, maybe it is. Yes, it is urgent. No, ma'am. Yes, ma'am. Yes. Tomorrow at two p.m. would be fine. Penelope Hofstadter. Yes, that's correct. Thank you very much." Penny returned the phone to her friend. "Oh, God, Bernadette. He has a secretary and everything. Her name is Violet. Can you believe it? This could be the break I have always wanted."

Bernadette's demeanor was stoic. "I'm happy for you, Penny. What are auditioning for?"

"I have no idea if I will even audition for anything. Maybe I won't need to. Sometimes it's not what you know but who you know, you know?" Penny bounced in her seat.

"But what about Leonard?"

"What about him?"

"I believe you had the tuna salad sandwich and seasoned fries," the server placed a plate in front of Bernadette. "And you are the Reuben sandwich with baked chips, ma'am."

Both women grinned. "Thank you, Graham," Bernadette mumbled.

As the waiter walked away, Penny and Bernadette switched plates.

"He's not very good is he? Working here twenty-four years and still gets things mixed up. Some people just need to get a clue."

Bernadette frowned. "You said it."