Tale of a Hollywood Con Woman

In early 1986, I made plans to have lunch with my father. I drove to his film production office in Beverly Hills and met his new receptionist, a young Julia Roberts lookalike with large brown eyes, wavy hair and an effervescent smile.

“You must be Loren,” she said rising from her chair. She stepped forward and gave me a hug. This threw me off guard.

“Uh, yes,” I said. “I’m sorry, who are you?”

“Tracey. Your dad didn’t mention me?”

“No, sorry.”

My father entered the foyer, a nervous smile on his face. I gave him a quizzical look.

“So you’ve met Tracey,” he said. “Isn’t she great?”

“Uh, yeah,” I said unsure what was happening.

“She’s our new associate producer. She’ll be helping on Act of Piracy.”

He was referring to his latest movie scheduled to be filmed that summer in Greece.

“Oh,” I said. “So you’re a filmmaker?”

“It’s in my blood,” she replied winking at my dad then squeezing his hand. He giggled like a schoolboy. This stirred my hackles. I tried locking eyes with her. She looked away, unable to hold my gaze.

“I invited Tracey to join us for lunch,” my dad said.