Gabby nodded. “As a matter of fact, my lease expires at the end of the month and he wants me to move in with him.”
“Talk about a whirlwind, Gabby. You’ve only known each other for a few weeks!”
“Tom doesn’t know the meaning of slow. When he knows what he wants, he pushes the pedal to the metal. Actually, I want to come clean about something. The night of the premiere wasn’t the first time I’d gone out with him. In fact, it wasn’t the first time I’d slept with him, either; we met several months ago.”
“Before auditioning for NCA!?”
“Yes. A mutual friend set us up. In the past, sometimes I’ve … well, I guess you could say…” Gabrielle clamped her mouth shut.
“Sometimes you’ve what?” prodded Callie.
“I haven’t always made the most morally sound decisions. Heaven knows I’ve never pretended to be a saint and I’m not proud of some of my choices, but I’ve always done my best to survive and—above all—be a good person. I’ll leave it at that.”
“Gabby, I’ve never judged you; you don’t owe me any explanations. Who am I to play God?”
“That’s one of your traits I really admire.” Gabrielle tugged on a strand of hair. “I’ve always gone off instinct and my gut is telling me to go for it.”
“Like that Cobain lyric in ‘Polly’: ‘It amazes me, the will of instinct.’”
“Instinct is so powerful, isn’t it? I know this is all sudden, but it’s awfully nice to be taken care of. He’s the first male in Hollywood to tell me I have more to offer than a mountain of cleavage. Although I’m sure that’s what attracted him in the first place.”
“He hooked me up with an acting coach I’ve been dying to get in front of. My first class is next week. His connections are out of this world.”
“It’s a fantastic perk, of course. But truthfully, it’s not the only reason I’m with him. It’s the little things he does, too.”
“Such as?”
A flush spread over Gabby’s cheeks. “Such as the way he tickles my arms at night because he knows it puts me to sleep. He always opens the car door for me and makes sure I’m comfortable. ‘Angel,’ he’ll say—he’s always calling me angel—‘is this too much air on you? Let me know.’ There’s this unexpected soft side and I love it.”
“I never would have guessed: Tom the Teddy Bear.”
“Few would. See, that’s exactly what I need—a man who’s crazy about me and worships the soil I walk on.”
“I wish Evan felt that way about me,” Callie sighed. “But he’s so busy promoting the album, we haven’t talked lately.”
“His schedule is unbelievably hectic. Yesterday there was a picture of him performing in Sydney and just the day before in Rome. Speaking of Italy, that’s where Tom is shooting his next movie and he has a part for me, too. Nothing major by any means—just two scenes and ten lines—but it’s a big-budget thriller.”
“Must be nice. Does he need a brunette? I have the perfect girl in mind.” Callie pushed the jealousy to the back of her mind.
“I’ll see what I can do,” Gabby laughed. “It’s hard to believe this wraps tomorrow. I hate it when a project comes to an end. I like the routine of looking over my lines in the makeup chair every day and joking with the crew.”
“It’s like one big family. Oh, well—back to the grind, slinging hash,” Callie sighed. “Low-budget doesn’t pay the rent, unfortunately.”
Being desired—by a chart-topping singer, a holier-than-thou casting director, or anyone whose opinion mattered—was addictive and Callie was jonesing for her next fix.
27
“Dr. Stuart James Holtsclaw, celebrity psychiatrist. You must be Kelly.”
“Callie. Come in, Doctor.”
Dr. Holtsclaw placed his faded luggage-brown briefcase on the dinette and removed his sports coat. Salt-and-pepper hair provided contrast against his turquoise eyes. (“The bluest peepers my patients have ever seen,” he loved to brag.) For being well into his fifties, he moved with the agility of a man half his age.
“We’re going to patch you up, don’t worry,” he chirped. “Let’s get right down to it. First off, I have to ask: You’re not suicidal, are you?”
“No. Just depressed.”
“How long do these bleak periods last?”
“A day or two. I go for weeks feeling fine then fall in a funk. My mom is the same way, only worse, and she doesn’t believe in medication, either. I’d come home from school and find her in bed with the blinds drawn.”
“And your father?”
“He died of a brain aneurysm when I was five. I had a nightmare about him last week. On his fiftieth birthday, no less. All day, I didn’t leave the house or brush my teeth.”
“Interesting…” He scribbled notes in a leather-bound notebook. “Sounds like you were quite a sight. Tell me more. Growing up without a father, did you get into trouble with boys?”
“Was I promiscuous, you mean?”
“Exactly.”
Callie chewed her nails. “I’ve never believed in saving myself for marriage but I don’t spend my nights getting gang-banged, either. I’ve had a few boyfriends … ten, maybe. But none of them added up to much. Maybe I just set too many expectations and then I’m let down. I don’t know … I’m definitely scared of getting too close to someone.”
“Why do you think that is?”
“Because I’m afraid he’ll disappear. It’s much easier to keep my heart under lock and key. But there’s this one guy I met.… He’s special. We get along really well and the sex is so hot. But his career takes him all over the world and I don’t see him much. Besides, he’s got so many women panting at his feet, why would he want to be with me?”
“Maybe falling in love scares him, too.” Dr. Holtsclaw pushed his pen against the cleft in his chin.
“I didn’t look at it that way.”
“It frightens the bejesus out of most people, kiddo. One of the reasons I’ve remained a bachelor. Tell me about this movie you’re in. How’s it going?”
“It was great while it lasted, but now that it’s over, I feel rotten,” she grumbled. “Once again, I’m an unemployed actress. Back to the real world: waiting tables. Asking a bunch of grumps how they want their eggs cooked.”
“It’s common for depression to hit after a high note. The life of an actor—it ain’t a picnic. One of my clients—I can’t name names, but she’s on the cover of this month’s Cosmo—went through a time when she was unemployed for two years. She couldn’t land a gig to save her life. Ebb and flow, that’s what this industry is all about. It seems to me you’re a perfect candidate for antidepressants. Have you ever been on any before?”
Callie shook her head. “Never.”
“Let’s try Wellbutrin,” he said cheerfully. “The side effects are low—you may be a little speedy at first but it won’t make you gain weight. We’ll start off on seventy-five milligrams, once in the morning. Are you sleeping well?”
“It depends. I’ve always been a light sleeper and it’s hard for me to shut my brain off. I’m always bouncing from one thought to another.”
“So it’s difficult to relax? Are you anxious?”
“Sometimes, yes. I’ve had a few panic attacks before and I thought I was going to pass out. Have you ever had any? They’re the worst.”
“I’ve never experienced them myself. What brought about these panic attacks?”
“The first one I remember having was ten years ago. It was right after my mom and I got into a fight—a really nasty one. We didn’t speak to each other for two days. My head was spinning and spinning until I couldn’t breathe and I was hyperventilating. I had another one before a photo shoot. Nerves, I guess.” She scratched the back of her neck, a tic that manifested when she felt uncomfortable. “And sometimes they’ve come out of the blue. I could be at Starbucks when one will suddenly hit. Stupid, isn’t it?”
“Criminy, no. A lot of people suffer from anxiety. I’ll call in some Xanax. That will take the
edge away and ward off panic. And I’ll throw in some Ambien, too, for when you have insomnia. What’s your diet and exercise routine?”
“I do cardio and sometimes yoga or Pilates. I’m trying to eat healthier, too, but being from the Midwest, it can be challenging. People don’t eat the same there as they do here in California.”
“You’re preaching to the choir, kiddo. This boy’s born and raised in Chicago. They love their Fanta and anything with dairy and red meat—real nutritious. Try incorporating lots of fish into your diet, especially salmon.”
“Ugh. I can’t stomach salmon, but I like white fish. And I love shrimp cocktail.”
“Stay away from shrimp, they’re not good for you—high in cholesterol.” He pulled a pack of smokes out of his shirt pocket and stuffed an unfiltered Camel between his lips. “All right, kiddo, nice meeting you. Any friend of Gabrielle Manx is okay with me.”
She handed him a two-hundred-dollar check and walked him to the door. “How long have you known Gabby?”
“Oh, let’s see now—four or five years. That girl’s been through hell, what with her husband offing himself.”
Callie’s eyes bugged. “He committed suicide? She never went into detail but said it was a ‘freak accident.’”
“It was freaky, all right. She found him hanging in the closet when she got home from work. She’s a tough cookie, a real survivor. And she’s so easy on the eyes, I’d treat her free of charge—but don’t tell anyone.” He winked and lit his cigarette.
Callie was surprised Dr. Holtsclaw would reveal such personal info about Gabby; maybe it was an innocent slip or he was just overly trusting. “My lips are sealed,” she said.
“I’ll call you in a few days to see how you’re doing and we can schedule a follow-up. Be well.” Smoke curled over his head as he jaunted down the hall. An engine thundered and the doctor peeled off in his canary yellow Corvette.
28
“Cal, I wish you’d pick up. This is ridiculous. We haven’t talked in months and I have so much to tell you.… Fine, have it your way. I’m going home for Christmas tomorrow and I was wondering if you were, too. I’ll be there a week and I’m already tearing my hair out from boredom. We need to get together. You can tell my brothers all about your movie—you know what big Sal Saunders fans they are. It’s not the same without you. Call me, okay? Stop being a snot.”
She deleted Candice’s message. Yes, she was returning to her home state for a visit, but she had no intention of spending it with Candice. Mending the fence wasn’t high on her list of priorities, despite the holiday season; she was still steaming from their spat and angry at herself for not talking things out rationally. Losing her cool didn’t happen very often and when it did, it took people by surprise. Pop! Like a can of soda. Once the fizz settled, it was business as usual.
Grandma Esme prepared for Callie’s visit by baking and broiling until her kitchen overflowed with goodies. “My granddaughter is coming home for Christmas,” she told anyone and everyone who listened. “I’m just tickled! I thought for sure she’d stay put in California—her boss doesn’t give her much time off and you know how miserable the weather is this time of year. But she told me, ‘Grandma, clear a spot for me. I’m staying at Mom’s a few days and with you for two.’ You could have knocked me over with a feather.”
Callie spent her last night in Los Angeles at Gabrielle’s. Tom had driven to Carmel earlier in the day for a visit with his eldest son and Gabby opted to stay in her new home. “I have something to show you,” she said excitedly over the phone. “It’s going to knock your socks off! We’ll have an old-fashioned sleepover and I’ll drop you off at LAX in the morning.”
The Johannesburg–Manx residence was situated atop a cliff in the Pacific Palisades and was as sprawling as it was private. The garage housed an eclectic collection of Ferraris. The driveway was circular and the pool Olympic. A lion made of marble teetered on the edge of a spewing fountain. Gabby buzzed Callie through the gate.
“It’s so good to see you! Come in, I have a fire going. It’s awfully chilly tonight, even for December. I’m making Baileys and coffee.” A bichon frise snuggled in her arms and three more bounced at her feet. (Tom was an enthusiastic collector of the white fluff balls and bred them as a hobby.) She offered Callie a steaming beverage and with a swoop of her lithe, bronzed limb, dangled her hand in front of her. An eight-carat, Asscher-cut diamond mounted in platinum nestled on her finger.
“Gabby! Look at that ring!” Callie grabbed Gabrielle’s hand for closer inspection.
“Tom proposed last night. I’ve never seen a stone so clean and sparkly.” Gabby cranked the volume on the stereo. Christmas carols danced from the speakers.
“Neither have I. It’s larger than my apartment!”
“He does like everything big.” She laughed, gesticulating toward her chest. “We were having dinner at Spago and I went to the restroom after our plates were cleared. When I came back, there was a Cartier box on the table. It wasn’t the most romantic proposal but I’ll tell you, I’ve never been so surprised in my life! I swear, I must have looked like I was catching flies. We haven’t even talked about a date yet but I’d be honored if you’d be one of my bridesmaids.”
“Of course! Count me in.”
“I’m thinking of having the ceremony here. The setting is so beautiful and intimate. It’s not like Tom and I are novices at this. Between the two of us, there are five previous marriages.”
“Five?”
Gabby blushed. “Years before I met Justin, I was married for about, oh, ten minutes or so. Big mistake. I was only eighteen. Anyway, enough about me. How are you?”
“I would be much better with a Texas-sized diamond. My agent says this time of year is extremely slow, so I’m just trying to roll with it.” She plopped next to Gabby on the plush rug facing the fireplace. Wall-to-wall mahogany bookshelves and etched ceiling beams lent the feeling of an Aspen resort.
“He’s not exaggerating. The holidays are painfully slow. This town practically shuts down from November until January. If it weren’t for Tom’s new movie, I wouldn’t have worked at all last month.” Gabby took a swig from her mug. “The Wilders came over last week and guess what? They’re ecstatic with NCA! so far. We watched a rough cut and you’re dynamite, Callie. Your performance blows everyone else’s out of the water, mine especially. Sherri Finstad is in charge of PR and from what the brothers tell me, she’s quite the hustler. They say she’s going to land some primo photo shoots and interviews for the release in September.”
Callie frowned. “September? That seems so far away.”
“Who cares if it’s two years from now? Don’t you see? This is going to be bigger than anyone ever thought! Except for Tom, of course, who knew it the moment he conceived the idea. And which two girls are going to get the most coverage? Why, the blonde and brunette lead, naturally! The ones who show the goods always get the most press.” Gabrielle bounced on her knees as she spoke; her fervor was palpable.
“You really think so? That would be something.”
“NCA! is Tom’s baby, and if he has any say, we’re taking this to the moon. I can really feel something cooking, mark my words. Everything is lining up perfectly; it’s almost too good to be true! For the first time in years, I’m really happy. Okay, present time.” She swiped a package tucked underneath the blinking tree.
“I have something for you, too. Nothing extravagant, but it’s the thought that counts.” She handed Gabby a tissue-paper-stuffed bag.
“Mmmm,” Gabrielle breathed, inspecting the soaps and candles. “Gingerbread, my favorite. Reminds me of when my mother baked cookies as a kid. Go ahead, open yours.”
Callie tore at the gold wrapping to discover a white Chanel clutch nestled in the box. “Oh my God! Gabby, I, um, I can’t…” she stammered.
“Yes, you can; I insist. This has been a good year for me and I want you to have it. Do you like it?”
“Like it, are you kidding? Do fish swim?
I don’t know what to say, Gabby.…”
“Merry Christmas, hon. Thank you for being there for me. This coming year is going to be unlike any other.” They clinked their mugs together.
“For only Baileys, this really packs a punch,” said Callie, slurping.
“A splash of vanilla-flavored vodka, too.” Gabrielle winked. “Let’s do a shot of peppermint schnapps. We have a lot to celebrate.”
Several rounds later, the girls struggled to remain steady on their feet.
“I’m drunk,” laughed Gabby. She rolled on her back. The fire illuminated her cupid’s bow and the cheekbones she inherited from Native American ancestors glowed. Callie admired her features and felt a tingle in her groin. She had been attracted to Gabby since their first meeting—she couldn’t understand anyone not being attracted to her, Gabby was pure sex on heels. Spending as much time together as they had—long, sweaty hours, naked on set—intensified Callie’s curiosity. It was months since she had been intimate with anyone and she craved human touch, and alcohol only fueled her desire. She crawled between Gabby’s parted legs and loomed over her, tigerlike. Gabby leaned forward and their lips met in a scorching kiss. “Have you ever been with a woman before?” Gabby whispered.
Callie shook her head. “Never.”
“You should try it. It’s a lot more fun than doing it with a guy. Girls know how to make each other feel good. I’ve been told I’m pretty talented. Here, lean back and I’ll show you what I mean.”
“Umm, okay…”
Gabby rolled Callie on her back and removed her pants. “You’re so wet! You should have told me and we could have done this sooner. I’ve always liked you, you know, Callie. Watch, I’ll make you wetter still.” Her tongue explored voraciously.
“Ooooh, nibble it more,” Callie begged, gripping Gabby’s head. Her eyes rolled in the back of her head. No man had ever devoured her so well, not even Bedroom Eyes. Her moans cut through the chorus of “O, Holy Night.” “Don’t stop, Gabby … Ohhhhh, God…”
29
Hollywood Strip Page 10
