by Abby Stern
“I’ll have a Grey Goose martini, very dirty, please,” I respond upon his third attempt and I snap out of my stupor. As he orders I return to my observation and notice that C-List Actress Turned Lifestyle Entrepreneur and her noncelebrity husband are having date night at a table in the corner sans kids. She’s being flirty and won’t stop giggling while he’s caressing her arm. I’m glad for their sake and their children’s that their marriage seems to be well intact, but a public outburst would certainly be beneficial for me right about now.
“Grey Goose martini, very dirty, for the ‘lady,’” Nick announces playfully when he hands me my drink and pokes at now another one of our inside jokes. “What’s that toast you and Holiday do?” he tries to recall.
“To glamour and love.”
“Ah, yes.” He humors me. “To glamour and love,” he repeats, clinking my glass with his tumbler full of scotch. He puts his arm around me and guides me to a table. I almost feel unsettled because I’m not feeling unsettled at all. I don’t know if it’s all of the schmoozing I’ve had to do for my job, but I thought I would be more nervous going on my first date after spending years with a guy I thought I would be with forever. It’s almost like Nick doesn’t realize how good-looking and successful he is, but he does, and because he doesn’t lead with it the absence of arrogance makes him even sexier.
“What’s been going on since I last saw you?” Now that we both have drinks he’s settled in across from me.
“It’s actually been an eventful few days.” Normally I wouldn’t bring anything less than perfect up on a first date but since I already told him about my mom I figure there’s no harm in being honest.
“Has it? Tell me,” he leads. “Good or bad eventful?”
“Went to see my mom’s new oncologist—”
“Oh…” Nick takes a large sip of his drink. He clearly didn’t mean to open this can of worms. “I’m sorry.”
“She’s checking in to the hospital to start her first round of chemo in a couple of days.”
He reaches across the table and places his hand on top of mine. His look is thoughtful and he’s gone from the guy who desperately wants to sleep with me to the guy that desperately wants to console me.
“Yeah. Her doctor is an interesting man. Without saying he’s hopeful in so many words, he said he was hopeful.”
Nick takes another sip of his drink intentionally, so as not to interrupt.
“My sister says he’s the best.”
“You have a sister?”
“Yeah. Her name is Robin. She’s ten years older, an ER doctor … total God complex slash thinks she knows everything about everything and couldn’t be more my opposite. We’ve never had the best relationship but she has a four-year-old, Marianna, that I would do anything for.” I take my phone out of my bag and notice a notification of an e-mail from Victoria. It’s titled “This Week’s Points.” I shake it off and open the photo Robin sent me not too long ago of Marianna doing her duck face and hand him my phone.
“Wow, she’s adorable. A pose you taught her, I assume?”
I shrug my shoulders innocently. “I love her more than anything. And she has the sweetest, most outgoing little personality. Who knows, you may be repping her one day.”
“I will keep her on my watch list,” he jokes. “You were saying your mom’s doctor…”
“Oh, yeah … His people skills aren’t my favorite but my sister said he’s the best so we have to just deal with his lack of bedside manner.”
“The only thing you need from him is to help her get well. She’s got you and your sister for the rest.” He always knows the perfect thing to say and makes him even sexier than I thought possible.
“And then aside from that my boss got fired and my job is possibly in jeopardy, so there’s that whole mess.”
Nick leans back in his chair pensively and stares at me as if I were a complete stranger. “You know, I just realized that I have no idea what it is that you do.”
I instantly feel a sharp pain overtaking my left bicep. Is this what a heart attack feels like? A stroke? My mind has been overwhelmed with everything else going on in my life that I hadn’t done my predate due diligence to consider what I was going to tell Nick about The Life. I guess some part of me maybe thought that Holiday had filled him in, but as I think about it now, she wouldn’t have, because from the moment she learned the truth she took a volitional vow never to discuss Ella/Bella with anyone without my explicit prior consent.
I don’t want to start our first date with me lying to him or even deliberately omitting any of the truth but he is an agent and I’m nervous how he’s going to react. Will he think that I’m untrustworthy? Will he think that I’m using him to get info on his clients? Will our date be over before it really even started? While the relationship between celebrities and The Life or any other gossip outlet is ultimately symbiotic, there are plenty of people in the industry that hold a great deal of disdain for us regardless of the exposure we give their clients. I need to tell him. It’s my only choice.
“I work for The Life.” I try to evaluate Nick’s expression after the revelation but he’s giving me nothing.
“I know The Life well. What do you do over there?” Now he’s playing detective.
“I’m actually freelancing.” I don’t want to lie but I really don’t want him to run for the Hollywood Hills either.
“Do you cover red-carpet events for them?”
“Not exactly. I’m more like one of their ‘specialized freelancers.’” I give him that look, letting him know that there’s a lot more to what I’m saying than the words.
“‘Specialized’ meaning…?”
“I’m a spy,” I blurt out. “Well, undercover reporter if you want to get technical.” He looks at me more confused now than ever. “You know when you read gossip on celebrities out at parties and clubs and after a specific detail the article says, ‘according to a source’? I’m the source. It means I was assigned or asked to go to the club or restaurant or wherever to get stories undercover or that on my own I was able to get them something that they were able to use.” Nick remains reticent, and I know this isn’t a favorable indication of acceptance. I have to make him understand he can trust me. “I have a code, though.”
“What kind of code?”
“I never betray anything my friends tell me in confidence and don’t report on things that aren’t happening in public.” I hope this helps my platform for why Nick should take me on a second date. He takes a moment to go over everything in his head.
“Holiday knows?”
“Yes, of course. We’ve been friends for years. She’s one of the maybe four or five people who do.” Please don’t hate me. “I didn’t want to lie to you but I also don’t want you to think I’m slimy or you can’t trust me.”
“If Holiday trusts you then I can, too.”
I give myself an internal “cha-ching” motion that I’ve made it past this hurdle. “It might end up being a moot point anyway. If I don’t get my boss something that will break the Internet I’m going to be out of a job, too.”
“You seem to be very resourceful. I think you’ll be just fine.” I’m glad one of us thinks so. I finish the last of my martini.
“Do you want another?” Nick asks.
“No, thank you.” That martini was strong. I don’t want to get tipsy and say something crazy to Nick. Plus, I need to have all of my faculties right now so in case my job did put a damper on his excitement for me my charm will counteract it.
“Good. I want you to remember everything tonight,” he says, his eyes smoldering. “Plus this place is prime real estate for helping you save your job.” He winks. Could this guy be any better? “We should probably get out there. It’s rude to miss tip-off.”
Nick polishes off the last of his scotch and he takes my hand as he escorts me to the basketball court. I think he really might be okay with this. We walk around the perimeter of the court and instead of going toward the stairs to f
ind our seats he points straight ahead.
“Courtside seats? I hate to tell you, Nick, but you are setting a really bad precedent for yourself,” I tease.
“Yeah, I just realized I really screwed myself for date two.” Yay! He’s thinking he wants a date two, too.
“A little bit.” He pulls my chair out for me and I place my purse as far underneath my seat as possible. I would so be the girl to accidentally have one of the straps a touch into the court and have the MVP trip and fall and injure himself for the rest of the season. “Are we going to be on the kiss cam?” I flirt.
“God, no! I paid the guy a hundred bucks so we wouldn’t be.” He laughs and I laugh, too.
“So if I do this we won’t be on the JumboTron?” I lean in and give him a peck on the lips, or what I meant to be a peck. He leans into it and places his hand on the back of my head and we are full-on making out. Courtside. At a Lakers game. I’m briefly distracted from the issues in my life.
“Ahem,” I hear softly bouncing off the rim of my ear. I continue to allow Nick’s kiss to consume me. “Ahem!” This time it’s louder and closer and absolutely directed at us. I release my lips from Nick’s and am partly annoyed that someone has interrupted our romantic interlude and partly scared that whoever it is will yell at me. I turn my head and am faced with my kiss-blocker: Older Multi-Oscar-Winning Womanizer who is also a notorious Lakers fan and apparently isn’t a believer in love and basketball. He’s wearing sunglasses despite the fact that it’s nighttime and we are indoors, and even though his eyes are hidden behind the opaque lenses, I can feel him condemning me with them. Lucky for me the game is starting so he transfers any annoyance he has with me into passion for the game. I’m catching basketball fever, too.
I admit it; sports are not my thing. I’m great with recognizing and staying current on almost everyone in the entertainment industry, but with sports, I don’t know anyone except its few crossover stars. Maggie even made sure not to assign me to the events or places that would be athlete-heavy because I did her no good at them. When it comes to sports I usually classify myself as a bandwagoner. I’m not invested in a team unless I happen to be living in their hometown and they make it to the playoffs. After that I’ll attend any form of social function to watch and cheer for the team as long as I’m provided with booze and food. But literally sitting on the court while the game is being played is a transcendental experience.
I’m high-fiving Nick every time we score and booing every time the Knicks score. The players are running right by us and can hear everything we say so I feel it’s my duty to express my happiness or discontent. My grasp of the game is basic at best but I’m screaming along with all of the other fans as if I placed my kid’s college tuition as a bet.
“Yo, what up, Nick?” one of the Lakers shouts as he holds his hand out to slap Nick’s as he runs by between plays.
“Keep it up, man. Stay focused and you’ve got this quarter.” Nick is really adorable when he’s being encouraging and of course now I’m imagining him coaching our children’s Little League games even though there’s still time for our first date to go horribly awry—not that I think it will but that’s insane forward-thinking, like putting the Oscar win before the Golden Globe nominations are even announced.
“He looks familiar.” I’m trying to place him and run through the work dossier in my head, since I know the one place I don’t know him from is basketball.
“Yeah? He should.” He muses at my basketball naïveté. “NBA Champion Scoring Sensation is one of the best forwards in the game, maybe of all time.”
“No. That’s not it.” I wrack my brain. “Did he get a DUI last year while he was dating B-List Reality Star from A-List Reality Family?”
Nick shakes his head at me in amused disappointment. “First off, yes. Although now he’s dating Former Supermodel Turned Actress Turned Jersey Chaser. Secondly, that’s not why he’s famous to the majority of the American public.”
“Nick Williams, do you know everybody in this town?”
Nick makes a feeble attempt to be bashful. “Nah. Only about eighty-five percent,” he says with a wink. “And mostly because I represent them … or they want me to represent them.” Another feather to add to his baller cap. “But NBA Champion Scoring Sensation and I went to high school together. He was a basketball prodigy; I was a former child star. Our destiny was written in the sky,” he jokes.
“You could totally pitch that idea to a studio and package it and have the next big buddy comedy on your hands,” I joke. “Nick Williams, you are full of surprises.”
“As are you, Ella Warren. Speaking of which, am I going to read about our basketball date in The Life next week?”
I playfully elbow him.
“You should be so lucky.”
We return to the game and Nick’s high-school bestie misses the last shot of the half. The crowd boos and the chanting gets louder when Former Supermodel Turned Actress Turned Jersey Chaser is featured on the JumboTron and fans scream obscenities at her for cursing him, the team, and the game.
“I’m going to get a round of beers for us, you want anything else?” Nick asks.
“I’m good.”
“Yes, you are.” He leans down to give me a kiss and I pull away after a second so I don’t make things awkward with my seatmate again. Nick retreats to the concessions and I pull out my phone to check Victoria’s e-mail. Come on, you got some good stuff this week.
1) Not Me
2) Not Me
3) Not Me
4) Ella Warren
Yes! My Not-So-Innocent Oversexualized Pop Star exclusive bumped me up! I breathe a very clichéd yet still very real sigh of relief and feel calm … a calm that Older Multi-Oscar-Winning Womanizer interrupts.
“Pretty hot and heavy for a basketball game,” he notes. I detect a bit of malice in his remark but he’s a legend so even if he’s acting like a jerk I feel like it would be a little blasphemous and disrespectful to sass him.
“I’m sorry about that. It’s our first official date and the chemistry between us is really intense.” Why am I telling him this? He doesn’t need or probably want an explanation, just for me to keep my tongue inside my own mouth.
“I can see why. With you around it’s difficult to focus on the game.” He lowers his sunglasses down his nose and leers at me. Oh my God, he’s hitting on me. If he wasn’t being totally creepy and didn’t do it to every woman who’s probably ever sat in this chair it might be flattering but that’s not the case.
“Thank you,” I respond, trying to brush him off without being overtly rude. It doesn’t work.
“Sweetheart, why don’t you ditch the suit and let a more seasoned man take you out after the game?” I laugh it off. “You’re beautiful.”
He continues to slather on what he considers charm. I pause to wonder if he would have been like this if he weren’t famous or if the fame leads to the douche-baggery. It’s the Hollywood equivalent of the chicken-or-egg conundrum. “Wearing a suit to a sporting event and sitting courtside to impress a pretty girl; let me guess, he’s an agent?” I nod uncomfortably, not knowing what else to do. There’s literally nowhere for me to turn and there’s a house photographer a few feet away so causing a scene isn’t an option. “I’ve been in this industry for fifty years, let me help you out and give you a little piece of advice and maybe save you some time, sugar lips. With agents, their clients will always come first. You can fall madly in love, get married, and give him children he says he loves, but his clients will still come first. You will never be his top priority.”
“Thanks for the warning but he’s not like the other agents.” I smile even though I want to hiss at Older Multi-Oscar-Winning Womanizer. Doesn’t he have a director or someone he can schmooze at halftime? Even a Laker Girl he can sexually harass? I muster up every ounce of decorum I can and am able to smile and nod.
“Let me guess, he’s ‘different’?” His sarcasm is starting to wear on me.
“As a ma
tter of fact, I think he is.”
“I hope that works out for you, sweetheart.”
He presses his sunglasses back on his face and luckily Nick returns with our beer. As he sits down he puts his arm around me and I lean in and give him a big smooch just to spite Older Multi-Oscar-Winning Womanizer.
“Thank you,” I whisper to him. He pets my hair and we stare at each other with the most pathetic smiles on our faces and I don’t even care. I couldn’t even tell you which team won the game.
Fourteen
I’m quickly adding the hospital to my most-frequented-establishments list. I’m anxious about my mom’s first chemo treatment but I wouldn’t miss being with her for anything. I make my way to my mom’s room. As soon as Robin found out which room it would be she sent me an e-mail with detailed directions how to get there from the parking garage. I’ll admit, I was annoyed when I received it but her directions were accurate and I made it to the room quickly, where Robin is waiting for me and my mom is having blood drawn.
“Hi, sweetheart,” my mother coos.
I go to give her a hug. “Hi, Mom.”
“You must be the infamous Ella,” the heavyset bespectacled brunette nurse in teal scrubs comments. “I’m Nurse Richards. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, too. You nervous, Mom?” I check.
“Not now that you’re here.”
Nurse Richards finishes her blood withdrawal. “I’m going to get this tested really quickly so Dr. Jacobs can determine your dosage for today. Robin, would you and your sister like to take your mom down to the treatment room and I’ll meet you there?”
“Sure.” Nurse Richards and Robin help my mom into her wheelchair. The walk to the treatment room is ominous. None of us really know what to expect and are all nervous inside but don’t want to worry each other. I’m scared that I’m going to break down when they start and that’s the last thing she needs.
