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Written in the Stars Series Collection

Page 10

by L. L Hunter


  The Golden Globes were in a couple of days. The big New Year’s Eve party Jack was invited to was tomorrow night. I didn’t know if I was ready to face the world’s media as Jack’s girlfriend. But he wanted me there beside him, so I would do it for him first.

  I headed back downstairs a little while later after collecting some of my thoughts and climbed back into bed beside Jack. I snuggled up to him and closed my eyes, even though I didn’t feel like sleeping, and waited there until morning.

  29

  It was New Year’s Eve. I had an invite to one of the biggest parties of the year. And I wasn’t prepared. Jack and his ‘people’ told me that this event would be the precursor to the globes—the event to be ‘seen’ with Jack.

  The dress Aflie chose for me was gorgeous and elegant, and a little racy. It was black lace dotted with black Swarovski crystals and fell to the floor in a curtain of tulle and beads. It was kind of flapper style. Old Hollywood glamour. The theme of the party was Gatsby, so Alfie and Emma added a black beaded headband to the outfit and styled my hair in the style ladies wore in that era.

  Jack looked positively dapper in his velvet-lined tux and skinny tie. His hair was slicked back under a fedora. He looked so incredibly sexy that I wanted to undress him right there and jump his bones. But that would be inappropriate since Emma and Aflie were still in the room, and then we would be late for the party.

  The party was held at the home of Jack’s former director, the one who gave him his big break. They were close mates now and often attended many of each other’s events. We drove to the party in the Astin Martin, so to make a bit of an entrance. The goal was to be snapped together as many times as possible. The car rolled up the drive of the white-bricked mansion, situated in Beverly Hills. Jack got out and ran around to open my door. When the door opened, I immediately heard the bass and music from inside the house. I also heard screams and people yelling. And then the camera flashes began.

  “Are you okay?” Jack asked, offering me his hand.

  “Yeah. Is it always like this?”

  “Not really. These parties are usually a lot more private. But we need the press here tonight. My manager organised for them to take a few quick photos and that’s it. Just stay with me, smile, but not too much, and you’ll be fine. It’s just a few photos.”

  “Okay. Let’s do this.” I took a deep breath. I had to remind myself why I was doing this. I had to maximise on the instant fame and attention while it was there, while we had it, for the book and for Jack’s movie. I took his hand, and we walked toward the feeding frenzy.

  Cameras and lights flashed, almost blinding me. Reporters shouted my name and told me to look at them. I did as Jack instructed and posed this way and that, only smiling a little. Soon, it was over, and Jack thanked them. We then made our way into the party.

  “There’s no more press inside, is there?” I asked quietly as we climbed the steps to the front door.

  “No, thankfully. That’s it. Now we can let our hair down and enjoy the night. It’s the last night of the year. I want you to enjoy yourself. I’m glad you could be here with me, Chloe.”

  “Me too. Thanks for inviting me. This has been amazing so far.”

  He leaned down to kiss me, and right before our lips touched, a short, rotund man with thinning hair came between us. Literally. He pushed his way through and pushed us apart with his hands.

  “There’s my boy.” He turned toward Jack, grabbing his arms. Jack leaned down and air kissed him on both cheeks.

  “Redman. How are you?”

  I stood patiently, hoping that soon Jack would introduce me. He met my gaze and rolled his eyes. I smiled. And waited. And waited. Finally, Jack made the introductions.

  “Red, I have someone I’d like you to meet.” He placed his hand on Redman’s shoulder and turned him around, guiding him to face me. “Redman Glassman, this is Chloe Vanderbilt. My girlfriend.”

  I had heard about Redman Glassman through several media sources over the years. I knew he was somewhat of a lady’s man and snapped with a gorgeous new woman every other week. He definitely punched above his weight. And his height. His girlfriends were always much taller and a lot prettier than he was. I wondered how he snagged some of the most beautiful women in the world. But that was the magic of Hollywood. Anyone could do anything they dreamed of. Anyone could be anyone they wanted. But Redman Glassman was one of the world’s best directors, so I guess he had a certain allure.

  “Oh, my. This is the infamous woman in the photograph? The one everyone was speculating over? She’s more gorgeous in real life.”

  I blushed. Gee, this guy was a smooth talker. “Thanks, Mr Glassman. It’s nice to meet you.” I shook his hand, but he took my grasp and used it to pull me down, and he kissed my cheek. His lips touched awfully close to my mouth. I froze, unsure what to do. Thankfully, Jack noticed and walked around Redman and came to stand close to me. He took my other hand, the one Redman wasn’t holding.

  “You’re not trying to steal my lady, are you, Red?” Jack joked. But I could tell he meant it. I liked this protective side of him.

  “What? I would never,” said Redman, in mock disgust. “You kids go up and enjoy the festivities. The night is young!”

  “Thank you,” I replied, and Jack pulled me away from the smooth-talking director.

  “Phew. That was close. Thank you for getting me out of that.”

  “No problem. I know what he’s like. He can’t help himself around beautiful women. Are you okay?”

  We stood at the base of a staircase that looked like blocks of marble were suspended in midair. A balcony wrapped around the foyer area that we now stood in. It seemed most of the guests were upstairs. I smiled at Jack and stepped onto the first floating step.

  “Yep. Let’s go enjoy the party.” I let the confrontation with Mr Glassman escape my mind as we climbed the stairs. We grabbed two champagne flutes off the first waiter we came to and then made our way out onto the pool deck and joined the rest of the party.

  A DJ was set up on one side of the pool and a bar. There were also several wait staff with trays walking around. Throughout the night, I danced with Jack, swaying my hips to the beat and drank probably too much champagne. But the night was young, and I wanted to live it up. I was at one of the hottest parties in Hollywood, surrounded by celebrities. I had to pinch myself that this was actually happening.

  At the stroke of midnight, fireworks exploded over the hills of L.A. Jack turned to me, eyes sparkling.

  “Happy New Year,” he shouted over the noise. And then he leaned down and kissed me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him back.

  Each New Year’s growing up, I could only dream of spending the night at some glamorous party. But those were always far too expensive, or I never knew anyone to get an invite. Now, I was here in Hollywood standing on the pool deck of a mansion of a famous director, in the arms of one of the hottest actors in the world. It was funny how my life had changed. I didn’t care that he was famous or that all the people around me were famous—or that I was now famous. This was now my life. And I was happy to be spending the last night of the year with the one I loved.

  30

  Awakened by the sound of hell in the form of a hair dryer, I tried to pull the pillow over my face, but the bed slumped as the pillow was ripped from my grasp and was I faced with my worst nightmare.

  “Rough night, huh?”

  Where was that pillow? I groaned and slumped back against the bed.

  “Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey,” sang Alfie from the door. I rolled over and finally realised Emma had woken me with the hairdryer.

  “What’s going on? Where’s Jack? Is he okay?”

  Emma smirked and smacked me on the bum. “He’s fine, Juliet. Get up and get that cute butt in the make-up chair.”

  Make-up chair.

  Alfie and Emma.

  Jack’s personal stylists.

  “Oh, shit! It’s Globes day!” I sat up and covered my face
. I wasn’t ready for this.

  “You’ll be fine. Like I said last week, you leave the stressing to me. Unless you don’t get out of bed in the next minute, then you’ll have something to stress about. The first interview is at nine thirty.”

  “Wait. What interview?” I slid out of bed and staggered into Jack’s small but glamorous ensuite. I splashed water on my face and made my way to the kitchen.

  The kitchen was where the action was at—or so I found out two seconds too late. There was a camera crew in the middle of the living room, and Jack was in the kitchen cooking something on the stove. And I was still in my pyjamas. I tried backing out of the room, but Aflie spotted me.

  “Nah uh uh, princess. You’re coming with me.” He dragged me to a chair near the kitchen counter and pushed me into it.

  “But I’m not dressed yet. There’s a camera crew and—”

  “Oh, pish posh. They’ve signed a non-disclosure agreement. You’re fine.”

  Jack turned around and greeted me with a smile.

  “Mornin’.” He slid a mug of something brown and warm towards me.

  I inhaled. Mm. Coffee. I would need all the caffeine today. “Mm. I needed that. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He leaned across the table and dropped his voice, taking a glance at the camera crew and journalist setting up in his living room. “Hey, did you sleep okay? I felt you get out of bed last night. For the past few nights, actually.”

  “Yeah. I was just thinking about… things.”

  “Do you wanna talk about it?”

  Before I had a chance to answer, Alfie came at me and pulled me from the stool.

  “Ahh! What the—”

  “You need to get dressed. Pronto.” Once I was on my feet, he spun me around and threw clothes at me. “Put these on.” When I didn’t move, Alfie smacked me on the bum. I squeaked like a mouse and ran into the nearest bathroom to get changed.

  Twenty minutes later, Jack and I were both all made up and ready for our interview. And there was a strange woman in the room who I hadn’t met before.

  “Chloe, this is my agent Julia Blackwell,” said Jack. I shook Julia’s hand.

  “Nice to meet you.” Then a man I’d also never met stepped up to greet me.

  “And this is my manager, Kyle Rose.”

  “Hi, Chloe. It’s nice to meet the woman behind the mysterious photograph finally. I must admit, when that photo was leaked, I was scared. But it’s only done good things for Jack’s career. And mine.” He chuckled when he added the last part. “I hope you don’t mind, but Julia and I have arranged a couple of press things for the two of you. We’ve worked together with Lola.” He looked at me when he mentioned Lola’s name. “This will boost both of your profiles. Now, I’ve printed out your itinerates for the day.”

  He picked up a black clipboard off the coffee table and took out two slips of paper. He handed one each to Jack and me.

  “Now, it’ll be a long day starting now. I hope you’ve had ample sleep, fluids, and food. You’re gonna need it.”

  I was inwardly freaking out as I scanned the piece of paper in my hand.

  This is what it said:

  9.30am – Interview with Hot Gossip Magazine

  11.15am – taping of The Vista

  12.30pm – interview with L.A. News

  2.00pm – Taping of The Susie Show

  4pm – hair, make-up and wardrobe

  5.30pm – Red Carpet arrivals

  7pm – 9.30pm – Golden Globes

  10pm – late – GG after party

  I had a bit of time here and there in between things to eat or rest, or do whatever. I had never before had someone organise my day. It was overwhelming. I felt a hand on my lower back. I looked up and saw that Jack was watching me with a concerned expression on his face. He leaned in and kissed my cheek then winked. I took a deep breath to try to calm my racing heart. It was beating overtime due to nerves and because I could hardly control myself around him.

  31

  I had seen episodes of The Vista and The Susie Show back in Australia. The Vista was a women’s chat show. The panel of high profile Hollywood personalities was known to either grill someone or fawn over them. The Susie Show was a chat show that was shown at midday in Australia and was a comedy talk show featuring celebrity guests and music performances. Its host was a woman named Susie Downing, and I had been known to often laugh out loud at some of her antics with her celebrity guests. She often made them play silly games or embarrassed them with pranks. It seemed surreal I was going to be taping an episode of these favourite shows. I hoped the ladies of The Vista didn’t grill me or fawn over Jack. And I hoped Susie didn’t embarrass me.

  My first interview that morning, with Hot Gossip magazine, which I found out later was a tabloid celebrity gossip magazine sold weekly here in the States. It had a reader base of over two million and known to publish exclusive and real interviews. I wasn’t so sure about the latter. I was a journalist at an entertainment and gossip website, so I knew how most journalists dramatised things and made them more sensational than they really were. Other than my personal exposé , most of my articles were heavily dramatised and mostly made up. I didn’t like making up things about other people, but it was what paid my rent. Now that I was dating an actor, I was thinking of quitting the website. I had my big fat cheque from my book. I didn’t need to make up more lies.

  Or so I thought.

  Later on, I would find out the dark side of being famous.

  Right now, I was looking at the world of the rich and famous through a glitter-coated lens, but it wouldn’t be long before the glitter was washed away and I would find out the truth, and the flash of the lights and cameras would finally blind me.

  During the first interview, Jack and I held hands as they asked us how we met and what happened once we stepped into that elevator. We only teased them a little. No way were we going to let a trashy celeb gossip mag know all our secrets.

  While I had my interview with L.A. News, which was an online newspaper, Jack went off to have principal photos taken for his new TV show, which would be shooting in June.

  We didn’t see each other until about four that afternoon during hair and make-up and wardrobe change for the Globes. This time, it would take place at my accommodation.

  While we were out, Julia had organised a gift basket to be delivered with champagne, chocolates, and flowers for me. I was sipping on champagne and reading reviews of my book when the door opened. Alfie and Emma were already here and doing their thing when Jack arrived. I looked up at the sound of the door and footsteps approaching and smiled at the beautiful sight of him.

  “Hey,” I said.

  “Hey,” he replied, giving me a kiss and then moving toward the champagne on the counter and pouring himself some. He then slumped into the second make-up chair beside me and sighed. “What a day.”

  “You’re tellin’ me. I don’t know how many times I’ve said, ‘we just kissed. That’s all.’ Or ‘I didn’t know it at the time, but Jack is the one.’ Ugh. I hate lying.”

  He stopped sipping then and turned toward me. I met his gaze and noticed his face was severe. I wanted to slide off the chair and hoped the ground would swallow me up. Oops.

  “So, which part was the lie?”

  I was caught, frozen like a deer in headlights. Come on, ground. Open up now. Any minute now would be good.

  “None of it. Uh… I mean, all of it. Ugh. I don’t know. Those journos have a way of slipping under your skin and pulling out all your secrets. They know how to strip you bare until there’s nothing left.”

  Jack glanced down at his champagne glass, watching the bubbles spark and pop in the tall glass. Then he placed it on the counter in front of him.

  “I didn’t know you felt that way.” His response was barely audible, but I heard it.

  “Jack, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said. It’s just… it’s been a long day. And I don’t have control over what comes out of my mouth any
more. This champagne and chocolates are all that’s going to hold me together until the after party. I’m starving, and maybe champagne isn’t such a good idea on an empty stomach. I only had time to stuff half a sushi roll in my mouth in between interviews earlier.”

  “You’re right. Sorry. I just thought, because you’re a journalist yourself, you were used to the types of questions they would ask. It was my mistake. I just thought you would be able to handle it. Maybe this is all too much. Maybe I shouldn’t have invited you.”

  I slipped off the stool and knelt down in front of him, but he pulled me back up, and I sat on his lap. We looked into each other’s eyes.

  “You did what you thought was right, what you wanted, based on feelings we shared, after a secret moment we shared together. But that wasn’t a lie. I really do feel all the things I feel. What I meant was, I’ve been contemplating quitting my job at the website back in Sydney and focusing more on my own stuff. Like my books. I don’t want to make up lies about people anymore. In lying in my articles, just to make a buck, I’m lying to myself. Now, that I’m with you. I finally understand all the pressure you feel. I know it’s not easy being a celebrity. I empathise with you. If I’m a journalist, I’ll feel like I’m your enemy. I don’t want to be on the opposite side to you.”

 

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