“That little rat,” I said when I figured it out. I hit my fist on the arm of the chair. “What are you talking about?” Harry said. “My damn maid.” “You think your maid talked to Sub Rosa?” “I’m positive my maid talked to Sub Rosa.” “All right, well, she’s fired,” Harry says. “I can have Betsy go over there today and let her go. She'll be gone by the time you get home.” I thought about my options. The last thing I needed was America not wanting to see my movies because I wouldn’t give Don a baby. I knew, of course, that most moviegoers would never say as much. They might not even realize they thought as much. But they would read something like this, and the next time one of my pictures came out, they’d think to themselves that there was something about me they never liked, they just couldn’t put their finger on it. People don’t find it very sympathetic or endearing, a woman who puts herself first. Nor do people respect a man who can’t keep his wife in line. So it didn’t look good for Don, either. “I need to talk to Don,” I said, standing up. “Harry, can you have Dr. Lopani ring my house this evening? Sometime around six?” “Why?” “T need him to call me, and when Paula answers, he needs to sound serious, like he has very important news to tell me. He has to sound concerned enough for her to be intrigued.” “OK...” “Evelyn, what are you up to?” Celia said, looking up at me. “When I get on the phone, he has to say exactly this,” I said, and I took a piece of paper and started scribbling. Harry read it and then handed the paper to Celia. She looked at me. There was a knock on the door, and without even being welcomed, Don came in.