Celebrity

by De Ross, Melinda

  As I shoved the pile of boxes in a corner and crawled in bed, I was already dreaming of the new beginning that awaited me. I could almost hear the waves of the ocean and feel the hot California sand under my feet.

  Chapter Three

  I spent most of the flight to London trying to sleep, caught in a numb state of fatigue after a very short night. I couldn’t wait to arrive at the hotel and make this exhaustion vanish between silky sheets. Danny promised to pick me up at the airport and informed me he’d reserved a room for me at the Waldorf Hilton. Also, he had arranged for us to have lunch with Marie Bell tomorrow in the hotel restaurant. I was tremendously grateful to him for making all the arrangements, although I shuddered to think what a night at the hotel would cost.

  When the plane landed, a dull headache radiated through my skull. As I set foot for the first time on British soil, I felt miserable. The night air was cold and thick. A bitter wind speared through my jeans, shirt and jacket, making me shiver Danny had told me where to meet, so I walked quickly toward my destination, dodging the surrounding crowd as best as I could.

  I spotted Danny immediately. He was the kind of man who would stand out in any crowd and turn heads, both male and female. As his last name indicated, he had some Latin blood, which was reflected by his olive skin and nearly black eyes. His tall figure was perfectly outlined in a black tailored suit and white shirt. He wore his head shaved—a look that suited him very well. His face was cleanly shaven too, except for a small patch of hair, snazzily shaped under his lower lip. All in all, he gave the impression of a sexy gangster with a keen sense of fashion.

  His sensual mouth curved in a slow smile when he saw me, displaying straight white teeth, which contrasted nicely with his caramel skin. He rushed toward me and wrapped his arms around me. I couldn’t associate the word hug with Danny. It was too comfortable, and that didn’t fit with the description of the man. He had an air of raw sexuality, an intensity that made me uncomfortable whenever we got too personal, which I tried to avoid. He was a ruthless businessman. I had the feeling he was the same as a lover: too demanding, too dominating, too overpowering.

  Though the heat of his body and the masculine scent of his aftershave made me want to curl up against him, I drew back from his embrace to look up at him.

  “Hey, you! I’m so glad to see you,” he said, taking both my hands to his lips in a smooth, practiced gesture.

  “You too, Danny. Thanks so much for picking me up.” I smiled, hoping I didn’t look too tired and bedraggled.

  “Don’t give it a thought. You look wonderful,” he said, as though reading my mind.

  I couldn’t stifle a scoffing sound. “I bet. I didn’t sleep more than five hours last night.”

  “Poor girl… I guess it’s all the excitement of this contract.” He took my suitcase from me, then ushered me toward the exit, holding my arm with his other hand. “I confess I was a bit shocked when you told me you want to move to California, but I’m delighted.”

  I walked beside him to the parking lot, trying to control my shivering. I couldn’t understand how people lived in this cold.

  “Yeah, well, it was an impulsive decision. But this contract was rather a surprise too. It feels like a great opportunity has just fallen into my lap. I know I’ve said this a thousand times already, but you did a great job, Danny. Thank you. I could never have gotten this deal without you.”

  He put a friendly arm around me. “Hey, this is my job, and I’m good at it, as are you at what you’re doing. I hope you’re planning a sequel to The Diary.”

  “Do you think I should?”

  He shrugged. “I can’t say yet, until we see how the movie comes along and how the public receives it. It’s all in the hands of the producer and director now. But it’s a pity not to continue the story.”

  He steered me toward a taxi, then instructed the driver to put my suitcase in the trunk. As we climbed into the back seat, the heat started to seep into my chilled bones and I began to relax.

  The streets of London were beautiful, though a thin veil of fog gave the lighted cityscape a translucent appearance. It might have been just my fatigue that made it all seem surreal.

  I turned to Danny, focusing on keeping my eyes open. “So, do you think they would object to my involvement in this project?”

  Danny looked a bit confused. “What do you mean by involvement?”

  “Well, I mean that I would like to have my opinions taken into consideration, be able to speak my mind if I think an actor isn’t right for a certain character. That kind of thing.”

  He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I don’t know what to tell you about that. It all depends on the director, but I think they would be delighted to have you as a consultant, as long as you’re not too demanding. I know you have a clear picture in your mind of how every character looks, how they behave, and stuff like that, but you have to be willing to make compromises. Better let me do the talking tomorrow, and let’s just mention this briefly for now.” He gave me a wink, along with a one-sided smile. “First lesson you need to learn about Hollywood is that you have to be very diplomatic and sneaky to get what you want. Never ask for it straight out. Baby steps,” he said, pinching my chin lightly.

  I felt a bit piqued. I hated being patronized and treated as though I were a child, but the bitter truth was that we were now in Danny’s waters, and he was a veteran shark. He’d been in the business for more than fifteen years, since he was barely twenty. According to his stories, he’d tried every aspect of the art industry, including acting, producing, script writing, novel writing, even modeling. Finally, he decided his talent didn’t lie in the aesthetic aspect of making movies and books, but in selling them. He was an excellent negotiator and had uncanny instincts when it came to matching the money people with the talent people.

  When we reached the hotel, I stepped out of the car, straining my neck to look up at this oasis of luxury. Though I hoped I managed to act as though I’d frequented such places all my life, I was awed by the shiny opulence of the hotel. A doorman led us inside and immediately took my suitcase from Danny.

  “Miss Kensington, Mister Gonzales, good evening,” he said in impeccable British English, leading us into the lobby.

  The brightly lit space was enormous and spread a golden aura, which I didn’t think for a moment was coincidental. The gold colored marble tiles, the honey-gold walls, the sparkling antiques tastefully sprinkled here and there clearly reflected one word: rich. It made me think of that movie from my childhood, Richie Rich. I remembered how much I wanted to be like Richie in those days, when it seemed money was all that mattered in life. I shook my head slightly at the memory, with a small, nostalgic smile that didn’t reach my lips.

  A dignified, matron-like receptionist handed us our cards, then I signed the register and Danny led me toward the elevators.

  “We’re both on the second floor,” he said, giving me my access card. “You’re in suite 15 and I’m in 17. Would you like to have some dinner? Or we can order something from room service.”

  “No, thanks. I’m too tired. I just want to curl up in bed and sleep for twelve hours,” I said, covering a yawn with the back of my hand.

  He smiled down at me indulgently. “There’s nothing to stop you from doing that. I won’t wake you up for breakfast tomorrow. Just beep me when you’re awake, but make sure you’re ready by 11:30. We’re meeting Marie at 12 sharp, and she’s a stickler for punctuality.”

  “So am I.”

  The elevator doors opened to reveal a well-illuminated corridor, decorated in the same tones as the lobby. Danny showed me to a door, then stopped in front of it, putting down my suitcase.

  “Goodnight, Kendra. If I forget to tell you, I’m really glad you’re moving to L.A.,” he said, leaning over to give me a kiss on the cheek.

  Perhaps I was wrong, but I thought I detected something inviting in his dark eyes. Was he hitting on me, subtly? His smooth, lingering touch sent a shiver over my skin. Any woman
would have been flattered by Danny’s attention, but at this point I preferred to keep things platonic. I was too susceptible, too hurt, and too vulnerable because of Richard’s betrayal.

  I wasn’t going to throw myself into the arms of the first attractive man I met. I realized I couldn’t even think about that now. For a dreadful moment I wondered if I’d ever regain my self confidence, if I’d ever be able to fully trust a man again. The possibility that I might not almost brought tears into my eyes.

  “Thank you. Goodnight,” I said quickly and fumbled to open my door, turning my head so Danny wouldn’t notice signs of my inner turmoil. “See you tomorrow,” I added over my shoulder as I entered the room and closed the door behind me.

  I stood against it, drained. I didn’t understand how I could feel so empty of emotions, and at the same time, overwhelmed by an avalanche of contradictory sentiment. My life had changed drastically during the last forty-eight hours, and many more changes were about to come. I’d been through so many stages and states of mind within such a short time, I didn’t know which to surrender to: the excitement of my professional accomplishment, the disappointment—I deliberately downgraded the feeling—of finding out my lover was a cheat, or the delight of moving to a place where I always wanted to live. This last part was also terrifying through its novelty, and yes, loneliness. I didn’t know anyone in L.A. except for Danny. I knew it would be difficult for me to settle and make friends.

  With a heartfelt sigh, I unglued myself from the door. Baby steps, Danny had said. It was the wisest thing I’d heard lately, and I decided to follow it. There was nothing for me to do at the moment but rest. After all, my life-altering decision to move was already taken. Now I had to live with it. That was supposed to be simple once I made up my mind, or so they said.

  I dragged my suitcase into the sitting room, glancing around listlessly as I put it on an elegant sofa and started rummaging through it for my pajamas. The suite was exquisite, sporting a lot of polished wooden floors and apricot-colored furniture. In the front room, a sofa and two arm-chairs were arranged around an ornate coffee table. A pair of French doors partially covered by peach-colored drapes revealed a balcony. Next to them was a Queen Anne desk with a matching chair, and in the opposite corner an elegant lamp stood on another ornate little table.

  I undressed and draped my clothes on an armchair, then put on my black pajamas, which consisted of a simple cotton T-shirt and shorts. I had to make a super-human effort to find my toilet bag and take out my toothbrush. As I moved through the bedroom to reach the bathroom, I noticed the setting here was similar—simple and tasteful. The sight of the massive bed covered in buttery-white sheets made me moan out loud. As soon as I brushed my teeth and switched off the lights, I sank into the soft mattress, letting out another moan of pure pleasure. I was asleep before I could pull the covers over myself.

  ****

  Although I knew I was dreaming, seeing Richard in bed with the blonde again still gave me a jolt. I just stood there, watching them, and willing myself to wake up. It occurred to me I’d never dreamed of any of my old boyfriends. For that matter, I’d never dreamed of Richard until now. It only took him cheating on me to get my wholehearted attention.

  Suddenly, Richard stopped bouncing over the blonde and turned his head to look straight at me.

  “You selfish bitch! You think you were the only one who had to fake it?”

  I stared at him dumbfounded, my heart thumping madly. Dimly, I was aware of the woman lying under Richard, her hands all over him, her mouth whispering compliments into his ear. But his eyes remained on me as he spoke, almost conversationally.

  “You think you’re the only one who got screwed here?” He gave a short laugh. “Okay, that wasn’t exactly a good choice of words. But anyway, do you have any idea how much effort I had to make sometimes to even get a hard-on? You complain about me, but you weren’t exactly a sex goddess, were you? Just lying back and thinking of your fucking stories. I could almost hear you plotting in your head, sketching your characters and juggling with the points of view,” he said mockingly.

  Then he rolled onto his back, and the blonde immediately slid down over his body, greedily taking him between her pouty lips. I still couldn’t react, too shocked, too hurt.

  Richard went on speaking, “This is what a woman’s supposed to do in bed. Take the initiative, be active, be involved with her partner, not send the message ‘Oh, just get on with it so I can get back to work’. Do you have any idea how frustrating it was to try and get a response from you, to feel like I was reaching out to an iceberg?”

  “Iceberg?” I repeated, my voice shrill and trembling with suppressed tears. “Richard, I thought we were getting along fine. I mean, you never said anything…”

  “I shouldn’t have to tell you, Kendra. These things should come naturally, instinctively. You don’t have an ounce of passion in you.”

  “I’m not passionate? Shall I remind you what dozens of critics and reviewers said about how sensual and well written my erotic scenes are?”

  He scoffed. “Written is the operative word here. You may have imagination, but if you can’t be like that in real life, it’s all a waste.”

  “It’s not a waste.” My breathing was fast and shallow now. “You were never the one to inspire my fantasies. And if a woman isn’t good in bed, it’s because the man doesn’t inspire her.”

  “Whatever.” He shrugged indifferently and plowed his fingers in the blonde’s hair, urging her on. “I’d rather have her over you any day.”

  ****

  I woke up panting, unable to stop the little gasps and sobs that were shaking my chest. My entire body was trembling, and I felt chilled to the bone. It hurt; deep inside I ached so bad I thought I was going to split in two.

  To feel so unwanted, so insignificant, so undesirable was the most terrible agony I’d ever experienced. I curled back on the bed, drawing my knees to my chest, and did the only thing that always made me feel stronger. I prayed.

  Although it was a contradiction, my faith in the supreme forces was ambiguous but strong. I had great respect for God, though I never had a picture of Him, and I understood the Holy Spirit even less. But I had a deep faith in Jesus. Perhaps because the practical part of me needed proof, and I knew he was real. His existence, his miracles were documented in the Bible and not only there, so to me Jesus was always the Father who looked out for me. Whenever things got unbearably tough, I tried to imagine Him standing by my side, caressing my hair, taking away everything bad. Maybe it was crazy, but it worked for me.

  So I did it now. I conjured up His presence and I prayed this wound in my heart would heal soon, and the pain would go away. I prayed that one day I would find a man to love me, to want me, to make me happy. Most of all, I prayed I would make him happy too, and satisfy him in every way possible. And I prayed that never in my life would I suffer such humiliation as I did now.

  Chapter Four

  Lunch with Marie Bell was a success, even though I was so nervous I could barely eat. I let Danny do most of the talking, but I was active enough in the discussion to make it clear I wasn’t some dumb broad being bled white by her agent. Marie—a forty-something brunette with a red power suit and upper class British accent—answered promptly to all of my questions. She wasn’t very thrilled when we reached the part about the $1,000,000 advance and Danny asked for the money to be transferred to me within twenty-four hours, but finally she agreed. She called her assistant, asking her to make the changes to the contract, and then to bring it to the hotel restaurant.

  In less than half an hour I was signing my most important contract. My heart was skipping beats, yet my hand was steady as I scribbled my name on the paper. Danny signed it too, then Marie, and so it was legal. By tomorrow, I was going to have a million dollars in my bank account. If Marie’s estimations were correct, the film shooting was going to start in a couple of months.

  “The casting starts next month,” she told me as we shook hands o
ne last time across the table, ready to leave. “The director I’ve chosen is very capable and he will be in charge of mostly everything. I have another important project in development here, but I’ll come to California to supervise when we start shooting. It would be great if you want to be there.”

  “I’d love to!” I said enthusiastically. “I was telling Danny just the other day I really want to get involved in this movie.”

  “Good. I’ll see you then. I look forward to working with you.” She turned, pointing a lethal-looking red nail toward me. “Oh, I highly recommend the Spotted Dick for dessert. Goodbye.”

  Danny and I watched her for a moment as she headed toward the exit, then we looked at one another. If my jaw wasn’t so well attached, I could have picked it up from the floor.

  “What the hell?”

  Danny grinned at my dumbfounded expression. “That dirty mind of yours… Spotted Dick is a British pudding. It was actually renamed Spotted Richard, due to all the jokes about its name, but I guess Ms. Bell prefers the old name.”

  “Is this for real?” I asked moments later, when I could speak through the bubbles of laughter.

  “Yep. What can I say, British are strange. But then, they think the same about us. Anyway, Spotted Dick aside, this is an iconic moment.”

  I bit my lower lip to control my elation. Danny had no such reserves. He scraped back his chair and took both my hands in his, before he lifted me right off my feet and spun me around a few times, ignoring my helpless giggles, or the other people seated at tables.

  “Now let’s get wasted on champagne,” he said, half carrying me to the elevators.

  ****

  Back in my suite, I called room service and ordered a bottle of champagne, as I threw my lavender-colored suit jacket on a chair and kicked off my shoes. Danny had already ditched his black jacket and loosened his tie. Presently, he was sprawled on the sofa in my sitting room, toying with the remote from the large TV adorning one wall.