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The Hollywood Tales: Brandon Books 1-4

Page 25

by Audra Cole

Finally, one of the sites has a link to a video, captured on someone’s cell phone, that shows the whole fiasco. I brace myself for the worst and click play.

  I instantly recognize the set Brandon has been working on for the past few weeks. The video starts by showing him walking out to the street, where he encounters a pack of paparazzi, who, let’s face it, are not exactly known for being nice, stand-up guys. They start throwing out some questions, which turn increasingly vicious as Brandon continues to ignore them:

  “How’s the new movie?”

  “Are you doing your own stunts?”

  “Where you going tonight?”

  “What’s it like making out with Pepper?” Referencing his co-star, Pepper Garth

  “Yeah, Pepper, that’s a hot little piece of ass. You hittin’ that?”

  Brandon rolls his eyes at this one, and mutters something inaudible.

  “No, no, he’s still with that really uptight chick! You know, the fat one.”

  At this, Brandon’s jaw flexes and he holds back for a second before telling the guy off.

  Knowing they hit the right nerve, the rest of the vultures pile on at this point and start throwing out their own insults, just trying to get a reaction. Which they get, and then some. Brandon steps up and gets in the guy’s face. My heart races, watching him surrounded by all these angry men who are egging him on.

  After a lot of yelling, screaming, and f-bomb dropping, Brandon throws a punch and connects with the side of the main antagonist’s face. Next, he takes the camera out of one other guy’s hands and smashes it on the ground. From there, the whole thing spins out of control. Out of the frame, a couple of guys run in, probably production assistants; they restrain Brandon while the other paparazzi snap pictures of the one Brandon punched. It’s a swarm of chaos as the police arrive and enter the mess. The last thing it shows is Brandon being ducked into the back of a squad car.

  The video makes it pretty clear what happened and the texts and calls I have received just confirm the story. My stomach feels like it’s turned inside out and I haven’t stopped pacing since I received the original call from Roger.

  The only person I haven’t heard from is Brandon.

  Drew eventually convinces me to sit down in a folding chair, but I just rock back and forth, compulsively checking my phone every three seconds, waiting to see if Brandon is calling.

  “Charity, talk to me,” Ashley says. She’s sitting on top of a box across from me, watching me intently. Her face grows more and more worried by the minute.

  “What is there to say? You saw that,” I say, referencing the video. All three of us had huddled around my phone to watch it, right after the call with Roger ended.

  “I think it looks a lot worse than it actually is. It’s all going to blow over. You’ve seen this happen before, and it never lasts long,” Ashley says.

  “This is all my fault,” I say, mostly ignoring her attempt to comfort me.

  “What? That’s ridiculous.”

  “It is, Ash! He did all that because of me!”

  I can tell she is trying to resist the urge to roll her eyes at me. “Charity, those guys were being dicks, and Brandon had enough.”

  “She’s right,” Drew says. “I work for a lot of celebs and they’ve all run into this at one point or another. It doesn’t matter who you are, those guys make their living provoking people into lashing out so they can turn around and sell pictures and videos of the whole thing.”

  “That’s pretty messed up,” Ashley says.

  “Welcome to my world,” I say into my hands. “What do I do now?”

  “There’s not a lot you can do. So let’s go back to my place and wait for Brandon to call. He will know what to say to make you feel better.”

  The fact that Ashley is volunteering to abandon her new crush tells me that it’s probably the best course of action. I nod at her suggestion, and she helps pull me up from the chair.

  Drew walks us to the door. “Sorry this got cut short,” I say. “I know we didn’t get everything done.”

  He waves me off. “Don’t worry about this. I can take care of things here; you’ve got other stuff to figure out.”

  I swear Ashley is about to swoon. What has gotten into her?

  “Thanks, Drew. Have a good night.” I turn and walk down the steps and start towards the car. I pull the handle, but it’s locked, I cast a glance backwards and see Ashley is still up on the porch, handing Drew one of her business cards.

  Well at least one of us is having some luck today.

  She skips down the steps and gives Drew one final wave before finally unlocking the doors.

  “Safe to assume you didn’t give him your card so he can order some jewelry?” I ask as I shut my door and start to buckle up.

  “Well I hope that’s not why he asked for my number!” she answers. “Although with my man-luck he will call me next week to see if I make engagement rings so he can propose to his crazy, perfect, amazing girlfriend.”

  I laugh. “As far as I know, he’s single, so you should be safe there.”

  “Excellent.”

  ***

  Almost as soon as we walk in the door back at Ashley’s place, my phone rings and I jump when I see Brandon’s name on the screen.

  “Brandon!”

  “Hey Cherry.” His voice sounds distant and my stomach churns, wishing I could grab him in my arms. “I talked to Roger, so I guess you know what happened by now.”

  “Yeah, I saw the video actually,” I confess.

  He swears under his breath. “I’m so sorry you had to hear all of that. None of it is true. They were just being assholes.”

  I’m silent for a beat, remembering some of the things they said. In the middle of the crisis I hadn’t fully absorbed their hurtful words. Living in LA serves as an ever–present reminder that I don’t exactly fit the Hollywood version of beauty. I’m too pale, too short, weigh too much, don’t dress properly, and my skin is not airbrushed perfection 24/7. None of the insults had been ’new’ to me, but they never become easy to hear.

  “I know, it’s all right.”

  “No, it’s not. You’re beautiful. They’re the ugly ones in this world.” His words are fierce, and I suddenly feel a rush of tears.

  “Thank you. What happened with the police?” I ask, blinking away the tears.

  “I wasn’t officially charged with anything. I think they mainly wanted to get me out of the situation. But of course, it looks bad, being hauled away like that. They warned me that the so-called journalist will likely press charges. It will probably be a big lawsuit and end up getting dragged through courts for the next year. So it could become quite the mess. Of course, the agency is going to do the best they can to handle everything and do damage control for my image. My producers already gave me a long lecture, and I’m sure that’s only the beginning.”

  I groan. “I’m so sorry Brandon. Is there anything I can do?”

  “Well Roger wants to see us both in his office first thing tomorrow. So, is there any way you can come home a couple of days early?”

  “Of course, I can get on the red eye tonight.”

  “Thanks, baby. Sorry to cut your time short.”

  “That’s all right. My family obviously won’t miss me, and I have a feeling Ashley is going to suddenly become very occupied as well.”

  “What do you mean?” he asks.

  I fill him in on her new puppy-love crush and he laughs. “I better tell Drew to watch out! If he breaks her heart, you’ll probably break his neck.”

  I laugh along and agree.

  We wrap up the call, so I can go pack and get to the airport before the last flight of the night departs.

  Six hours later, I am exhausted from the day, but safely tucked into Brandon’s arms in our bed back in LA. And, oddly enough, despite all the events of the day, I finally feel relaxed and drift off into the best, dreamless sleep I’ve had all week.

  Chapter Two

  There is an air of nervous a
nticipation as Brandon and I sit outside Roger’s office the next morning. We debated the different possibilities over breakfast and while getting dressed. Brandon is worried the studio is not going to renew his contract for the next movie in the series, the ones that turned him into a breakout star.

  I am more conservative and guess they just want to pull him in for an in-person lecture, a slap on the wrist for the way everything went down. In my mind, I don’t see how anyone could watch the video and not see Brandon as the victim, but this is Holly-weird and crazy stuff happens every single day.

  Brandon taps his foot along to the beat of the subtle music in the background. His nervous energy is freaking me out. I need him to be normal, subdued, happy-go-lucky Brandon. There’s only room for one basket case in this relationship, and I’ve pretty much got it down.

  I am about to say something to distract him, when the spunky receptionist comes and tells us to follow her. She leads us through a maze of office space and we finally arrive at a door with Roger M. Harper’s name on the plaque. We both take a deep breath as the door swings open.

  “Brandon, Charity, so good to see you both again!” Roger says as he ushers us inside.

  For the record, this is the first time I have ever met him face-to-face.

  We each take a seat in the plush red chairs opposite Roger as he sits down behind the desk.

  “So we have a bit of a snafu,” he starts.

  I resist the urge to laugh. A bit of a snafu? Hmm…I guess that’s one way of putting it. What’s more amusing is how calm and collected he is. This version of Roger is very different from the one coming unglued on the other end of the phone line yesterday.

  I shake my head slightly and force myself to focus on Roger’s speech.

  “As you can imagine, we have had quite a time tackling all the questions and requests for interviews. Not to mention, coordinating with your legal team on everything, to make sure we don’t make things worse.”

  “I spoke with my lawyers this morning,” Brandon says, “and they assure me it’s being handled. The so-called assault went both ways, so if he sues me, I can file a countersuit, and most likely he will drop it.”

  I wince as I look at the cut under Brandon’s eye. I had missed it on the video, but at one point in the scuffle, he had taken a punch and ended up with a nasty cut.

  Roger nods along. “Right, so at this point, we want to turn our attention to handling your public image, and making sure that we spin this in a way to increase your likability and success.”

  “Let me guess, a public apology, a circuit of groveling on talk shows, a course of anger management, and a tell-all book describing some childhood trauma that explains why I snapped and punched a guy on the street?” Brandon says.

  I’m pretty sure he’s joking…

  “Not exactly,” Roger says. He doesn’t look amused.

  Brandon sighs and flops back against his chair. “All right, all right. Tell me what to do. I just want this whole thing to go away.”

  I put a hand out, and Brandon grabs it and gives it a quick squeeze.

  “You will need to issue a public apology. This can be done through our agency. I have a team already writing a formal statement. We would just need you to agree to it before release. As for media appearances, that is a possibility. I have another team lining things up there. And a book? Well, that’s not exactly what I had in mind.”

  He pauses and considers Brandon for a moment before continuing.

  “Actually, I think it would be in your best interest to revisit the idea of doing a reality show. And since you now have this lovely fiancée,” he gestures towards me, “the idea would be to have the show revolve around the wedding planning process and then, ultimately, the wedding.”

  Brandon and I both open our mouths to object, but Roger plows along, barely pausing for breath.

  “Listen, the public already went crazy over your love story, and they are rabid to get more information. Nothing better than a wedding to garner good feelings and get on the right side of things again. I know you don’t want to have your space and privacy invaded. I get it, but think of it this way—it’s only for a predetermined purpose and once the wedding is over, you never have to do another episode. One season, maybe six episodes, that’s it.”

  “Out of the question,” Brandon says. “Charity and I do not want any part of this plan. You’ll have to think of something else.”

  “Brandon, with all due respect, you screwed up. If you want, I can go get the charts, graphs, and numbers for you. I can show you the raw data, but this boils down to one thing—dollars. The bigwigs who fund your movies aren’t happy with this type of publicity. This meeting was intended to present you with the ‘option’ but basically, it’s this or they’re going to cut bait and find someone else to continue the franchise. That would leave you out there alone, with a tarnished reputation, shopping for a new studio to take you on and build a project around you. And, again, no disrespect, but you haven’t been around long enough to build the kind of relationships and reputation that is needed to get out of this with just a warning.”

  At some point in Roger’s monologue, my mouth flops open in complete disbelief.

  Brandon’s free hand is clenching the armrest of the chair, and the one holding mine is getting uncomfortably tight.

  “So it’s an ultimatum then? Put myself through the violation of reality television or be dropped?”

  Roger nods. He looks quite solemn, and I can’t help but feel a little bad for him, because he truly is just the messenger and Brandon looks about ready to throw him out the fourteenth-floor window.

  My mind races furiously through everything being discussed. An image of our Seattle house pops into my head and there is a selfish part of me that hopes Brandon just walks away and we can have that quiet life I’ve always dreamed of. But as soon as I think it, I know it isn’t the right thing.

  “We’ll do it,” I say.

  “Cherry, what are you talking about?” Brandon snaps his attention to me, a completely bewildered look on his face.

  “This is the only way.”

  “Hold on. Slow down. This doesn’t even make sense. Putting together a show like this would take months. How is that even going to help the situation we are currently in? I mean the negative backlash is happening right now. By the time the movie comes out, this will all be old news. No one will even remember this happened.”

  “Well that’s not entirely true. We have had offers to do a reality show on you, Brandon, for quite a long time. When Charity came along and your relationship went public, those offers increased ten-fold. So, to be honest, I have always held onto this idea as a contingency plan in case something like this were to happen. It’s the fastest way to build your star power and truly turn you into a household name.

  “There are already press releases written and ready to go; a camera crew and production staff are lined up, just waiting for me to pull the trigger. So if you agree to this plan, we would start filming later this week and the first episode would air in two weeks. The final episode, the wedding, would be airing in seven weeks which is right before you are set to begin the press tour for the last movie you finished. That’s what the studio is planning on.”

  “Seven weeks? Did you just say get married in seven weeks?”

  “Well technically, you would need to get married before then. There would need to be time allowed for editing the content and production time to get it ready to air.”

  I’m pretty sure I can’t breathe right now. I must be existing on something other than oxygen, because it doesn’t feel like I’ve had any for some time. I’m lightheaded and slightly nauseous.

  “We haven’t even told our families that we are engaged,” I say.

  “All those details can be worked out later. The only thing I need today is a yes or no answer.” He leans forward in his chair, his eyes ping-ponging between Brandon and me, at a rapid pace.

  Brandon looks over at me. “Are you sure you’
re up for this?”

  I somehow muster the confidence to nod and put on a smile. “Yeah, it will be fine. And just think, if we’re only a few weeks away from the wedding, then we’re only a few weeks away from the honeymoon.”

  And if the studio is making us jump through all these hoops then they’d better be prepared to give Brandon some time off for the honeymoon, ‘cause I am damn sure not spending it in his movie set trailer.

  Chapter Three

  We leave Roger’s office about an hour later after hashing out some additional details—one of which was ensuring we get time for a proper honeymoon once this fiasco is over—and we head home, all the while discussing our plans to tell our families not only of the engagement, but also of the plans to televise our planning process as well as the wedding itself.

  It’s staggering to think how many times my world has completely flipped upside down over the last couple of months. I went from barely watching TV to now being set to star on my own reality show.

  Suddenly, Brandon lets out a hollow laugh that echoes inside the car. “This is total bullshit.”

  I stay silent, watching his knuckles turn white as he grips the steering wheel tighter and tighter.

  “It’s blackmail. Completely legal blackmail. I should just tell them all to screw themselves and walk away. They think that I need them, but really it’s the other way around. If they replace me now, the franchise will fail.” His voice trails off as if he is uncertain of his last statement. Currently there have been two movies released in the series, with the third set to release in two months…eight weeks…right after our televised wedding spectacular.

  I feel dizzy and grab a hold of the car door handle as if to steady the spinning of my mind.

  “The worst part is that it’s not just affecting me anymore, it’s upsetting your life too. This is insane.”

  “It’s all right,” I say, but I know my voice is far from convincing.

  “It’s not all right, Cherry. It’s okay to get angry and pissed off about this ya know.”

  “I guess you’re right, but what would be the point? We can’t fight it. You heard Roger. We have to do this, it’s only a few weeks, and we’ll make it through.”

 

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