by L. L Hunter
“I have to go back to L.A. on Monday.”
21
I froze, and his fingers stopped drawing shapes.
“Oh.”
He pulled back so he could see me properly. “I’ve been trying to come up with a way to tell you. I was only planning to stay a week for the premiere and the press junkets and then fly back for pilot season and the couple of auditions I have. You came out of left field and took me by surprise, though. I didn’t anticipate falling for you.”
I rose onto my elbow and kissed him long and passionately. When we came up for air, we were both breathless.
“I didn’t anticipate falling for you either,” I whispered. I kissed him gently then flopped back on the pillow beside him. “How long are you going to be in L.A.?”
“I don’t know. At least a few months. Pilot season starts in September, but I have a few auditions, a guest spot on a TV series, then it’ll be awards season. I’m nominated for a best supporting actor role at the Golden Globes.”
“Oh, wow. That’s exciting. Congrats.”
“Thanks. It’s kind of surreal. I haven’t had a lot of big roles. In L.A., you kinda take what you can get. There’s so much competition.”
I stare up at the ceiling. “You’ll be busy then. And I have my book now. I’ll probably be doing press for that soon.”
“Yeah. So, I’m curious about what you’ve written. Can I read it?”
I look at him. “You wanna read it?” I scrunched up my nose.
“Yeah. Why? Did you confess some deep dark secret or something?”
“No. I mean, the whole book is one deep dark secret. It’s fiction, not an autobiography, and I’ve requested to use a pseudonym.”
“Why? I think you should use your real name. It’s already been revealed that the woman in the photo is you.”
“I suppose. We’ll see what the publisher says.”
“I’d still like to read it. It’ll give me something else to do on the flight back. If I read over these couple of scripts and audition scenes one more time, I’ll go insane. I need a break. I need to read something new.” He kissed me gently along my jawline and then the corner of my mouth and around my lips. “Please?”
I sighed so long it turned into a groan. I grabbed my pillow and pulled it over my face. Jack laughed and stole it from me.
“Pretty please?” I pulled the pillow back over my face. My voice came through muffled. He stole the pillow from me again, and I looked at him with the sweetest smile I could manage. I double sugar coated it and added the cherry on top.
“Hi.”
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Distract me with that sexy arse smile. Give me your book.”
“Fine. It’s not like I’ve already revealed everything to you. You can read my book.”
He grinned showing me his teeth and his sexy dimples and gave me a kiss.
“Thank you.”
22
Jack’s flight on Monday wasn’t until ten that night, so we spent the entire day together. He eventually made me his grandmother’s rice paper rolls, and they were the best rice paper rolls I had ever eaten. They were like heaven on a plate. I practically had an orgasm eating them— they were that good!
We made love a few more times, in the shower once and twice more in my bed. While we lay twisted together in the bed sheets, I emailed my manuscript to him. When his private car pulled up just after seven that night, we stood on the footpath outside my townhouse in each other’s arms. The driver got out and collected his bags and placed them inside the boot, then stood near the back door and waited for Jack.
“I can’t believe you’ll be gone for almost six months. I can’t believe I’m here moping about a guy leaving me. I never wanted to be that girl. But here I am, being that girl. I can’t believe how much you’ve changed me.”
“For the good, I hope? You don’t have to change for me.”
“But that’s the thing. I had no control over it. Love isn’t something you can control. You can to an extent, but resisting it drives you crazy. Then you have no choice but to fall.”
I looped my hands behind his head and pulled his face down to meet mine. We kissed a couple more times, then he pulled back slightly so he could speak.
“I want you to be my date for the Golden Globes.”
“Whoa. Seriously? I mean, really?”
“Yes. I don’t have a date, and I want you to be it. I’ll book your ticket.”
“Wow. I can’t believe I’m going to the Golden Globes with you. When is it?”
“January eighth. So, I’ll book your flight for the fifth or the sixth. Or you can come over and spend New Year’s Eve with me?”
“I’ll see what my work schedule is like and the book and let you know.”
“Okay. Awesome. Well, I’d better get going.” He pecked me on the mouth again.
“Oh, okay.” I was reluctant to let him go, but it was inevitable.
“I’ll call you when I land,” he said.
“Okay.” We kissed once more and then he got into the car. I watched the car pull away from the kerb and disappear into traffic. I felt like my heart was in that car with Jack.
On Tuesday, I went back to work and just couldn’t focus no matter what I did. I had two articles to write, but I just couldn’t concentrate. I was on my second cup of coffee, and I’d only managed two words. I checked the time on my desktop computer screen and calculated in my head. It had been less than twelve hours since Jack had gotten on that plane. He would be landing soon.
At noon, I checked the time again and then realised it had been over fourteen hours. Jack’s flight was around fourteen hours. I checked my phone quickly, but my heart sank when I saw no new messages or missed calls. My God, I was pathetic. If I couldn’t survive the duration of his flight, how was I going to last the three or so weeks until I saw him again?
I really was pathetic. I pushed my chair out and headed to the kitchen. I needed food. I was probably hangry.
Susan found me in the kitchen with a bite of a chicken burger in my mouth.
“Hey, Chloe. How are you going?”
I paused and chewed my bite quickly, swiping the mayonnaise from my lips as I swallowed. “Hi. Good.”.
“So, I heard your movie star has flown back home.”
“Yeah. He has.” I leaned against the bench and stared down at my half-eaten burger.
“So, when you will see him again?”
“In about three weeks.” I looked up at her with a smile. “He’s invited me to the Golden Globes and to spend New Year’s Eve with him.”
Susan paused, half bent in front of the fridge, her head snapping toward me.
“Oh. You are? Fabulous. Then you can cover the Globes for us.”
“Uh… maybe. Sure.”
My head was spinning. I could barely comprehend I was going to the Golden Globes, let alone being Jack’s date and covering the event as a journalist.
Susan collected her lunch and yoghurt from the fridge and yelled as she walked out, “Make sure you’re photographed too!”
I was left staring at my half-eaten, half-cold chicken burger pondering how the hell I’d gotten myself into this mess. How was I supposed to be Jack’s date and a reporter at the same time?”
23
Two weeks before I left for Los Angeles, I was called in for a meeting with the publisher. I went on my lunch break from the website, even though Susan was more than happy to let me have my publicity meetings. She completely loved it. Probably more than I was.
When I walked into the publisher, Lola practically greeted me straight away.
“Chloe, at last! It’s so good to meet you!”
Lola was nothing like I’d imagined her to be. She stood at almost six foot, with shoulder-length black hair and hazel eyes. She looked like an amazon. She was gorgeous. If I were sexually inclined in that way, I’d go for her. It was hard to believe she was in her fifties.
“It’s nice
to meet you too.”
“Shall we go?” She inclined her head toward a corridor.
“Let’s.”
She led me down the corridor and into an office with a long table with about twenty chairs around it. Lola walked to the seat at the head of the table and placed her phone and diary on the table.
“Take a seat, Chloe. Our editor and marketing people will join us in a minute.”
I nodded and took a seat next to Lola. A minute later, a handsome man with a beard and dark hair dressed in a grey suit walked in, followed by a woman who looked not much older than me. She was dressed in a pale pink sleeveless blouse and a black skirt and heels. She looked edgy with multiple piercings and tattoos. She and I could be friends.
“Chloe, this is Ben, our marketing guy, and Tori, our editor.”
“Hi,” said Ben, nodding at me.
“How’s it going?” said Tori. She gave me a small smile and set down her huge coffee mug.
“Hello,” I said, smiling and giving a small wave.
Everyone sat down at the table, Ben next to me to my left, and Tori opposite.
“So, Ben,” Lola started. “Tell Chloe what you have in mind for her book.”
Ben set his MacBook on the table and opened it. I needed to stop staring at his amazing brown eyes. They had nothing on Jack’s, though.
“I thought we could do a few signings in bookstores, a national tour, and then coincide the release with Jack Dean’s film release.”
My eyes almost bugged out of my head, and my jaw fell open. I visualised myself looking like a cartoon character with eyeballs springing from their sockets and my jaw dropping onto the table, tongue rolling out like a carpet across the table.
“But that’s in just over a week. I have to go to L.A. on the twenty-ninth.”
“We know.” Lola smiled knowingly. “Susan just emailed me. She told me you’re going to the Golden Globes too. She said you would be covering the event for the website, so we thought this would be the perfect opportunity to find inspiration for book two. Ben, show her the cover for Woman in the Photograph.”
“Hang on. Wait. Woman in the Photograph? That’s not what I called my original story.” This was too much. They’re practically writing my story for me. They’d already organised my life.
“Yeah, we thought the original title was too tabloid-like. We’ve decided to go with what is selling. Pretty much anything with the word ‘woman’ or ‘girl’ in the title sells.”
I was beginning to have second thoughts again. I turned to the window and looked at the view of the Sydney skyline. The windows of the buildings glimmered green, blue, and silver in the sun. Sydney was beautiful. I wondered if L.A. was going to be just as beautiful.
“Okay. Fine. Whatever.”
“Are you okay, Chloe?” Lola asked.
“Yeah. Sorry. Continue. I was just thinking about my trip to L.A. and Jack.” I looked back at Ben and smiled sweetly. “I’d like to see the cover.”
“Sure.” He turned his MacBook around, and my jaw hit the table again. It was exactly how I imagined. It was of a woman sitting in a tree at dusk holding a burning photograph. There were stars in the sky and water underneath the tree so the stars reflected in the water. The girl had an expression of complete and utter bliss on her face like she was happy with the decision she’d just made. She looked free. I wanted to be that girl.
And as I sat there staring at the girl on the cover that was going on my book, I realised I needed to be that girl. I needed to be happy with where I was in life and the decisions I had made. And I wasn’t. I still felt lost. I still had no idea who I was.
Who was Chloe Vanderbilt?
“What do you think, Chloe?” asked Lola. I stood from my chair and took a deep breath.
“I love it. It’s perfect.”
I glanced around the table and realised Ben and Tori were staring at me with confused expressions on their faces.
“Are you okay, Chloe?”
“Oh, yes. I’m fine.”
And I realised I was. I had made a decision. By the end of my story, I was going to end up the girl on the cover, careful and happy with her life. I was going to be that Chloe.
“Okay. Great. So, shall we talk about the book launch?” said Tori. I smiled proudly and sat back down nodding. I couldn’t wait to get to L.A. and to tell Jack.
24
The book launch was on the twenty-eighth, and Jack booked me a flight for the twenty-ninth. It was all set. I was to spend New Year’s Eve with Jack, do a couple of TV talk show interviews with him, and then attend the Golden Globes together on the eighth of January.
The book launch was held at the biggest bookstore in the city, and the turnout was surprising. Many more people turned out than I thought would. My book looked amazing printed and bound, and we sold out within half an hour. I made a speech, did a live reading—reading the scene from the after party, and then signed books and talked to people for the rest of the night.
I went to bed that night and spent hours staring at the ceiling wondering how this was my life.
The next day, I frantically packed my bag for the week I planned to spend in L.A. Thankfully, my flight wasn’t until eleven that night because I had no idea what to pack for this sort of trip. I stared at my empty suitcase. Half of my clothes were for work, and the other half were comfortable maxi dresses and pyjamas—the uniform of a writer. I had absolutely no designer outfits or dresses that would be deemed Red Carpet worthy. I either needed to max out my credit card or use the advance the publisher had given me and buy myself designer outfits for the Golden Globes and the TV appearances. Yeah, that’s what I would do. When I got to L.A., I was going to hit Sunset Strip and go shopping. If I was going to have this life, I needed the wardrobe to match.
When I got to the airport and checked in, I found the nearest bar, ordered wine and took a seat overlooking the tarmac. I loved watching planes taking off and landing, wondering where people were going to and coming from. I used to dream of going to the airport and just picking a destination and buying a ticket there—because, in my dream, I was super rich and had unlimited funds. And now I had the means to do that. Here I was waiting to board a flight to Los Angeles to see my movie star boyfriend and be his date to the Golden Globes.
I unlocked my phone screen and stared down at the picture I had set as my phone wallpaper. It was my book cover. It was now my inspiration for my end goal—when this was over, I could buy a big house in the country and retire early. And maybe Jack would be with me, I wasn’t sure yet. I couldn’t see him in my future yet, but I knew I wanted him to be there.
On the flight, when the seatbelt signs were turned off, and the drink cart was being wheeled out, I ordered wine and a packet of chips and then settled into my seat with my e-reader. I was reading a Hollywood romance novel that had heaps of steamy sex scenes, and I found myself letting my mind wander. I imagined Jack and me doing some of the things the characters in the book were doing. I smirked and took another big sip of wine. Perhaps we should try some of those things. We’d already had sex in the shower. Tick!
Further into the flight, I opened my email inbox and sent an email to Jack. He already knew when I was landing since he’d booked my flight, but I just wanted to speak to him. Even if he didn’t reply. Man, I was whipped.
Hey Jack,
The plane trip has been uneventful. I can’t wait for the Globes. I’ll need to go shopping when I get to L.A., though. I have nothing to wear! It would be amazing to be styled and have my hair and make-up done too because I suck at all that. Gosh, I’m nervous. And since Susan wants me to cover the event as a journo and Lola wants me to write a second book based on the awards and set in L.A., I’ve been trying to unwind on the plane, but I just can’t get my brain to shut off! Maybe I need more wine…
Anyway, I can’t wait to see you.
Miss you,
Chloe xx
I pressed send and looked up. Thankfully, a hostess was making her way down the aisle
toward me.
“Excuse me?” I asked, waving her over.
“Yes, ma’am?”
I had never been called ma’am before. Did I even look old enough to be called ma’am? Maybe it was the fact I was sitting in business class.
“Could I please have a glass of champagne?” I needed to celebrate the fact I was going to L.A.—to the Golden Globes with one of the hottest actors of the moment, no doubt. I needed bubbles. Champagne always lifted my mood. But just one glass. Too many weren’t good.
“Certainly, ma’am.”
As the air hostess left to get my champagne, I opened Instagram and scrolled through the posts. Several writers and actors I followed had posted funny or inspiring quotes. I didn’t even like any of them. I clicked on Facebook and brought up a new post to write a status.
“On my way to La La Land!!!” I tapped ‘ travelling to’ and selected LAX. The air hostess returned just as I clicked on the post. I smiled and accepted the glass.
“Here you go, ma’am.”
“Thank you.” I settled back in my seat and turned to watch the clouds float by outside the window.
I landed in L.A. just before seven in the evening, and as I walked into arrivals, I panned the crowd in search of Jack. But, of course, he wasn’t there. He wouldn’t be. He’s a famous Hollywood heartthrob. He would be mobbed if he turned up here in person. Instead, I noticed a middle-aged man with dark sunglasses and a suit holding a card with my name on it. I hitched my messenger bag higher on my shoulder and pushed my suitcase over toward him.
“Hi, I’m Chloe Vanderbilt.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Miss Vanderbilt. My name is Stephen, and I’ll be your driver for your stay in Los Angeles. May I take your bag?”
“It’s nice to meet you too, Stephen.” I handed him my suitcase. He took it gladly and then reached for my messenger bag. “Oh. Thanks. Are we going to meet Jack now?”
