Beautiful Trouble (Dirty Hollywood Book 2)

by Claire Raye

  “Come on, we all did,” Julia says, laughing a little and patting Lilly’s hand.

  Again Lilly smiles, but her cheeks flush bright red and she continues with her thought. “So I was thinking, why don’t you take the stories away from them? Make them your own. I was so excited when Instagram came around and I was able to peek inside these people’s lives. The invention of social media kinda killed tabloids because I could now go right to the source and find out what these people were up to.” She shrugs her shoulders and adds a quick and quiet, “I don’t know. Maybe not?”

  I contemplate Lilly’s words because there’s so much in them that makes sense. I’ve always kept my social media private because I didn’t want to let people into my personal life, but in this case, it may just help. I would be in control of what is told, the narrative would be mine and I could respond to stories that have no validity.

  “That’s an amazing idea,” I tell her, and she beams.

  “It really is, especially in this situation, Ava,” Julia says, nodding her head. “This would let you put to rest any of the bullshit stories people are telling. My guess is that it would draw people onto yours and Lewis’ side and make them more interested in what you have to say rather than what the tabloids have to say.”

  “It doesn’t even have to be gossipy,” Lilly chimes in. “It can be simple things like you and Lewis out to dinner or you working at the pub. I’m telling you, us common folk are interested.” She laughs a little and what she doesn’t realize is I am one of those common folk and I still would be if it weren’t for Noel and his big mouth.

  “I’m going to try it. I’ll keep my personal Instagram but create a new one that is just about my life working for celebrities. Thanks for the advice, Lilly.”

  “No problem.”

  As Lewis and I are in the back of the Uber driving home, I watch as he continuously looks out the back window.

  “Is someone following us?” I ask, curious, but knowing it’s totally possible.

  “No, but fuck that arsehole has made me paranoid,” Lewis hisses out, dragging a hand through his hair.

  “So tonight when I was talking with Lilly and Julia, Lilly suggested we open a social media account that is just dedicated to us and telling our story. Like when a tabloid writes some bullshit story about our marriage breaking up, we can post something to the contrary. Not so much an argument, but more like us just living our daily lives and sharing it. Make us the good ones.”

  “I’d rather go the legal route,” Lewis states, glancing over at me quickly.

  “I know and so would I. I don’t think this negates that. This is just a way for us to get ahead of the stories or to share who we really are. It could even be great marketing for the pub.”

  “You know I support you, so if this is something you want to try, then go ahead,” Lewis concedes, his hand resting on my thigh now. “Who would’ve thought I’d be married to such a bad arse?” he teases, now taking my hand in his and kissing it.

  “Not me. I pretty much figured you’d be the badass in this relationship. You smell like whisky and are covered in tattoos, and I’m pretty sure you could scare anyone in a dark alley.”

  “Bullshit. You know I’m a total pushover when it comes to you,” he says, and I lean over and kiss his neck just as my phone chimes out with a text message.

  Unknown number: Hi Ava it’s Roger from the Guardian. I have another actress who has come forward. She worked with Noel and Sadie on their last film, but claims she was bullied on set into doing multiple nude scenes. Is there any chance you could verify this story with Sadie? I’d love her input on this and I haven’t been able to get anything from her. I know you don’t want to be attached to this, but I really need your help.

  “Who is it?” Lewis asks, leaning over to look at my phone as we pull into the alleyway behind the pub.

  “It’s that reporter from the Guardian that’s doing the story on Noel and the people who have worked for him. He wants me to talk to Sadie about an actress’ on set story.”

  “Did you ever tell him you’d help him? That you’re interested in bringing Noel down too?”

  “I haven’t because I’m still concerned this isn’t the best way to handle this.”

  “Ava, seriously, baby. We’ve got our lawyer involved, you’ve got a plan in place. Nothing can make this situation worse, but you do have the opportunity to make it better.”

  Without even responding to Lewis, I type out a text message to Roger.

  Me: I’ll see what I can do. I’ll talk with Sadie and get back to you.

  Roger: Thank you so much. I promise you won’t be disappointed.

  I’m still having a hard time believing this story will find a place with all the pull Noel has, but I have to give this a chance. Believing in these stories and the courage it takes for these actors and actresses to come forward is what keeps me going. I don’t have a lot invested in this, but I know they do. My friendship with Sadie and the fact that I worked with Noel can only help.

  I shoot Sadie a quick text asking her if she has any free time tomorrow to meet for breakfast or lunch and her response is quick, agreeing to meet with me for an early breakfast at a local place near the pub. I do worry that she’ll think I’m using her for information, I worry that Noel will eventually break her, more than she even is now. I worry that nothing will come of this and I will have put her career and her life in jeopardy, but I also know that she is talented and without him, she has a chance.

  She doesn’t respond with anything more and a part of me feels a little bit guilty for not sharing my real reason for wanting to meet with her.

  “I feel a little bit bad for not telling Sadie why I want to have breakfast with her,” I admit to Lewis when we walk in the flat.

  “Why? You’re friends with her too. It’s not like you’re just hanging out with her for the story, and if you feel like you are then make sure you make up for that. Ask her to lunch again, talk about what she’s working on, what she’s writing. Be interested in her rather than her life with Noel.”

  “How come you’re so smart?” I ask, throwing my arms around Lewis’ neck and pulling him close to me.

  “I was just born a genius,” he teases, kissing the tip of my nose before flopping down on the couch.

  “You’re right though. I need her to know that I’m here for her too.”

  Lewis nods, scrolling through his phone as he lets out a long low sigh and hands his phone to me.

  And right there on the screen is what seems to happen every damn time I think this reporter is getting ahead of Noel: a story that makes him a beacon of light in this idea that we can dim him.

  The article’s title is eye-catching and I’m sure the story is even more so. Over the last several years this unknown author hit the New York Times Bestseller list with a dystopian trilogy and they have been the books on everyone’s radar. There were talks that the author was working with screenplay writers to bring it to life and now Noel’s name is attached to one of the biggest stories of the decade.

  “Talent will always outnumber gossip: Noel Robinson in talks to direct The Far Off Planet trilogy.”

  How the hell does he manage to do this? I just can’t figure out how he stays this far ahead of every story. If I’m learning anything from this, it’s to keep quiet on anything that hasn’t already been released to the public.

  Now my chat with Sadie tomorrow is even more important than before.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Lewis

  The crowd of press hasn’t disappeared when Ava and I venture out early the next morning. At this point, I’m assuming they are just camping out all night and I only wish it was the middle of winter so the whole thing was that much more unbearable for them.

  They perk up as soon as they see us, cameras lifted as tape recorders are thrust in our direction.

  “Ava, what do you think of Noel’s new directorial role?”

  “Are you going to ask for your job back?”

>   The questions are incessant and ridiculous, the cameras clicking and flashing as though capturing a picture of us walking our dog is the greatest thing they’ve ever seen. Daisy growls at all of them and I can’t help but chuckle, even as I do my best to ignore them.

  Neither of us says anything as we walk by, several of the reporters now gathering their things and moving to follow us. I force myself not to look back, to not give them the satisfaction of showing how pissed off I am about all of this.

  Instead, I sling an arm around Ava’s shoulders, pulling her close as I hold Daisy’s lead in my other hand. I can hear the cameras still clicking as they capture this moment and I watch as Ava also pulls out her phone, snapping a couple of pictures of Daisy as she trots along in front of us.

  “Pictures of the dog?” I ask, glancing down.

  “Mmm hmm,” she murmurs as she flicks through the shots before loading one of them up to Instagram.

  “This is what you’re sharing with the world?” I ask, laughing a little.

  Ava glances up at me, a smile on her face. “Yeah,” she says, shrugging a little. “This is us and our regular life.”

  “Kinda boring isn’t it?”

  “Boring enough that maybe they’ll leave us alone,” she says, sliding her phone into her bag.

  I lean closer, my mouth at her ear. “Just as well we didn’t take any photos earlier this morning,” I whisper, chuckling when I see her cheeks darken. “Then they’d know just how un-boring we really are.”

  Ava giggles, even as she buries her face against my shoulder. “That is most definitely not being shared with the world.”

  “Good,” I practically growl, knowing I have no desire to share any part of my relationship with Ava.

  We eventually reach the café where Ava is meeting Sadie for breakfast, both of us hanging outside, even as Ava scans the window for any sign of her.

  “You sure you don’t want me to wait for you?” I ask.

  Ava turns back to me, a smile on her face. “I’ll be okay,” she says, a hand on my chest.

  “I can just wait out here,” I say, indicating to the outdoor tables. “Or come back when you’re done?”

  Ava’s smile widens as she presses up on her toes, her lips meeting mine in a soft kiss. My arm curls around her waist, pulling her closer even as the distant noise of a camera clicking makes me want to let go of her and punch the arsehole who’s taking pictures of us.

  “How about I text you when I’m finished,” she whispers, mouth against mine. “See where you’re at?”

  “Please do,” I reply, kissing her one more time before pulling back. From the corner of my eye, I see one game arsehole step even closer, his camera up as he snaps continuously in our direction until he’s practically in my face.

  Turning, I open my mouth to ask just what the fuck he thinks he’s doing by intruding in our lives like this when I remember Aiden’s advice from last night. How provoking them only makes the situation worse.

  So I say nothing, instead offering him a smug smile before I turn and open the door for Ava, watching as she disappears inside.

  After leaving Ava at the coffee shop, I continue walking down the street, away from the pub and toward Oliver’s tattoo studio, heading up the stairs even though I know it’s far too early for him to be open.

  “Hey, Ol, you here?” I call out as I open the door.

  “Out here,” comes his voice.

  Letting Daisy off her lead, we both walk through the studio and down the corridor to the make-shift flat at the back. Oliver sits at the kitchen table, the smoke from a recently extinguished cigarette rising from the ashtray on the table.

  “Morning sunshine,” he says, grinning as he looks up from his laptop.

  Maria, the woman he claims is not his girlfriend but who somehow manages to spend every night sleeping here with him greets me with a smile, a kiss on the cheek and a question of, “Tea?”

  “Sure, thanks,” I say, taking a seat across from Oliver.

  “You’re up early,” he says, eyes back to the screen in front of him, his hand moving to absently scratch Daisy’s head.

  I shrug, as Maria hands me a steaming cup of tea. “Thanks,” I tell her, before replying to Oliver’s question. “Ava had a breakfast thing.”

  Oliver chuckles, clicking away at his laptop, even as Maria moves over and places a hand on his shoulder as though to remind him he has company. He finally looks up, his gaze meeting mine.

  “What?” I ask.

  “You know you two are all over this,” he says, pointing at the screen.

  I exhale before taking a sip of tea. “I know.”

  “Lotta bullshit being said,” he adds.

  “I know,” I repeat.

  “Stuff about your family too.”

  I take a deep breath. “Yes, Oliver, I know.”

  “You gonna stand for this shit?”

  I take another sip of tea, my eyes flicking to Maria as she reaches over and shuts his laptop. “You think this is what he needs to hear,” she says quietly.

  Oliver looks up at her, a questioning look on his face as though he doesn’t get what she means.

  “It’s okay,” I say, hand up. “I am doing something about it,” I add. “Trying to anyway.”

  Oliver looks at me now, that same look still on his face.

  “I’ve spoken to my lawyer,” I add. “He’s releasing a statement and filing a libel suit.”

  Oliver’s brows lift. “And you think that’s going to work?”

  I shrug. “Who knows, what else can I do though?”

  Oliver lets out a short laugh. “I don’t know,” he says. “You could start with shutting Joanna up though.”

  I roll my eyes. “Yeah, been there, tried that, have the bullshit story to prove it.”

  “Oh you mean the one where you’re seeking comfort in the arms of your ex while your money-grabbing wife kills the career of one of Hollywood’s most beloved directors.”

  “Jesus Oliver,” I shout at the same time as Maria lets out a firm, “Oliver.”

  “What?” he asks, genuinely surprised.

  I shake my head. “This isn’t a fucking joke,” I tell him. “This is mine and Ava’s life.”

  “Exactly,” he says, as though I’m somehow missing the point.

  “Yeah, so there’s a limit to what I can do,” I explain. “Without making things a million times worse,” I add when he continues to look at me weirdly.

  “I don’t get it?”

  I shove a hand through my hair, frustrated. “I can’t provoke things, Oliver,” I explain to him. “Can’t make this worse for Ava.”

  “You want me to talk to Joanna?” he asks, as though this could somehow help.

  I pause for a second, actually considering his offer even though I know it’s not a smart move. “No,” I eventually say, exhaling. “Thanks though.”

  Oliver opens his mouth to speak, just as my phone chimes out with a text.

  Ava: we are just finishing up. Are you back home?

  Me: just at Oliver’s – leaving now, give me 5 and I’ll come past.

  “I gotta go,” I say, standing. “Thanks,” I add, glancing at Maria.

  She gives me a sympathetic smile, nodding as she adds, “Pleasure and I hope things get better.”

  “Thanks,” I say, giving her a quick hug, before whistling to Daisy and reconnecting her lead.

  “I’ll walk you out,” Oliver says, standing.

  We walk in silence down the corridor and through to the tattoo shop. When we reach the top of the stairs, Oliver stops, turns to face me.

  “I’m sorry about before,” he says, his fingers fidgeting with the lighter he holds. “I wasn’t meaning to…to…”

  “It’s okay,” I say, hand on his shoulder. “Just do me a favor and don’t speak to anyone who comes asking about us.”

  “Of course.”

  Out on the street, I walk quickly back toward the coffee shop. Ava and Sadie are both walking out as I reac
h it, Ava giving me a quick smile.

  “Hey, Lewis,” Sadie says, not smiling.

  The three of us walk silently back to the pub and when we reach it, I’m relieved to see the crowd of people has finally disappeared.

  “Huh, maybe they’ve finally gotten bored,” I say, turning to Ava.

  “Maybe,” she says, smiling as she turns to say good bye to Sadie.

  I say my good byes to her and head inside, leaving them to finish off whatever they were talking about over breakfast.

  Inside though, I quickly realize why the footpath outside my pub is now empty.

  “What the fuck is going on here?” I shout, my eyes flicking around the room before finally settling on Ed.

  Ed shrugs, a guilty look on his face as he says, “They said you’d okayed it.”

  I shake my head, exhaling hard as my hand grips the back of my neck. “Does this look like something I would okay?” I ask, hand gesturing to the group of reporters now sitting at a table, nursing a couple of morning beers as they snap pictures of the interior of my pub.

  “Get out,” I say, turning my attention to them.

  The camera moves toward me and I immediately walk over, planting my hand in front of it.

  “Last fucking warning,” I say, my gaze moving over the four men. “Get the fuck out.”

  “It’s a public bar,” one of them tries. “We’re just having a quiet drink, nothing more.”

  I shake my head, amazed at the level of bullshit these guys are willing to spew at me. Opening my mouth to speak, I’m immediately cut off by another of them as he says, “Come on Lewis, make this easy for all of us and just give us a few words, a couple of pictures.”

  I let out a harsh laugh, even has my hand now closes over the front of the camera that I have no doubt is still capturing images. “Why don’t you make this easy for me,” I spit out, my jaw tight, “and get the fuck out of here before I call the police.”

  The guy who spoke first laughs a little. “What, to kick out paying customers,” he says, the other three laughing with him.