Love in La La Land

by Lynn Forth

  With a spring in his step, he set off to give them hell at the studio. After all, he was the star of the film, and it was time he made a few more demands as befitted his status.

  He almost licked his lips at the prospect of Jane’s trembling submission to the ardent, and expert, seduction techniques he would employ on his return later that night.

  Heaving a sigh of relief, Jane saw Manuel drive Scott off to the studio.

  Had that been a friendly Hollywood-type kiss, or something else? If he really could help her flog her book, it would be stupid to leave just yet. But she could just be clutching at straws. How much influence did Scott really have? Her pile of debts sprang to mind – that expensive skiing holiday Darren had conned her into; the posh bloody car he had driven away in. If only she could sell this second book for a film, she would be in the clear. Then she wouldn’t have to give up her flat, and her family wouldn’t need to know. The thought of going home with her tail between her legs, and having to admit to her naïve foolishness, chilled her. She just couldn’t face that.

  Fighting her gut instincts to leave, she resolved to stick it out at Scott’s and hope he did have the good contacts she needed. After all, what had she to lose? And where was the harm in staying at a film star’s ‘pad’?

  Except, of course, that it meant she was trapped in his sterile home with nothing to do for another whole wasted day. She groaned at the prospect.

  With no clothes. Once again, she hadn’t raised the issue with Scott, but she’d been worried about mentioning the word ‘clothes’, let alone ‘bra and panties’ to him.

  Amazingly, he seemed unaware of the fact that she was wearing the same blue dress yet again. And somehow, asking to fetch her stuff from the hotel, implied a permanency to her stay that was far from what she wanted.

  She trudged upstairs. What to do? The long day loomed ahead of her.

  Scott was just emerging from make-up when Jack caught up with him. Dreading seeing Scott’s beaming, triumphant smile, he was quite relieved to see a somewhat downcast, perhaps hungover, figure walking towards the set.

  A figure that clearly veered away when it saw Jack, and speeded off in the opposite direction.

  Knowing Scott as he did, Jack recognised the reason for the avoidance tactics. Nothing would have stopped him accosting Jack to crow if his planned seduction of Jane had been successful. So, it appeared the younger man had nothing to gloat about.

  Smiling to himself, Jack loped after him.

  ‘Hi Scott. Ready for your big scene?’

  ‘Yes.’ Scott’s scowl spoke volumes. ‘I just hope Savannah isn’t going to make a big fuss about the nudity bits. You know what these actresses are like.’

  Jack didn’t comment. He liked Savannah and guessed the on-going row between them was probably about Scott becoming too big for his boots. He also knew the ambitious young actress was professional to her fingertips, and accepted the inevitable shedding of clothes as an integral, if regrettable, part of an actress’s journey through the Hollywood ranks.

  He remembered his own mother had told him how much she loathed this sleazy aspect of an actress’s life. She had hated it with a passion, and refused to do it – yet another reason why her career had been so short-lived.

  Running his fingers over his forehead scar, Jack thought bitterly of when he had witnessed the ‘casting couch’ approach employed by so many of Hollywood’s disreputable movers and shakers.

  He changed the subject swiftly before he became embroiled in any more of Scott’s moans about Savannah, who was just emerging from her trailer.

  ‘By the way, how’s Jane? Is she out of hospital?’ Jack had, of course, phoned the hospital and been told Jane had gone to Scott’s, but he wasn’t going to let him know this. He also omitted to mention his text exchange with Jane the previous day.

  A frown marred Scott’s boyish good looks.

  ‘Yes, she came out yesterday morning, but I think she’s still a bit tired.’

  So, it did seem as if the seduction plan had gone awry. But was it just a matter of time? And why did he care? Jane was a grown-up and clearly smitten by Scott’s star status. What did it matter to him if she succumbed to her idol’s charms?

  In spite of himself, Jack hadn’t been able to get Jane out of his mind. He had been unaccountably pleased to receive her message. And after their text exchange, to his annoyance, he had thought about her most of the day. So much so that in the evening, he had abandoned his writing and gone back to reading her book to see what he could glean about the writer’s character from her novel.

  She was clearly funny, perceptive, and had a marvellous ear for dialogue. The latter quality was something he really appreciated –dialogue was his meat and drink. But Jane’s was so colloquially English that he would not have understood half of it if he hadn’t spent his formative years at a rough and tumble English school. His hardest task in adapting the novel to a screenplay had been capturing the spirit of that witty banter for an American audience. And he was proud of the result. Was that why he had been so infuriated by her disparagement when they first met? But how had she penetrated his armour in the way she had?

  Beautiful women in Hollywood were ‘ten-a-penny,’ as she would no doubt say, but natural, no make-up, unvarnished beauty like hers was very uncommon. His mother had possessed it. Even when terminally ill, her beauty had been undiminished. As had her soft voice.

  Perhaps that explained the attraction, he thought with a shock. His English mother had pre-disposed him to like English accents, especially northern ones. Maybe it wasn’t Jane herself that had piqued his interest; it was just the way she talked.

  She had made it quite clear how little she thought of him and how much she was a fan of Scott’s, so was probably revelling in life in a Hollywood star’s house.

  Her texts yesterday were a wonderful example of a courteous English girl expressing her gratitude, as she had been taught to do.

  I bet she writes thank you letters for her Christmas presents as well, he thought with a grin.

  But something about her vulnerability in hospital kept catching at his mind and eventually, with a sigh, he left the studio to be out of Scott’s earshot, and phoned her.

  She answered immediately.

  ‘Hi Jane. It’s Jack. How are you?’ He made his voice sound nonchalant, uncertain of the reaction he would get. He hoped her tone would tell him immediately if his call was welcome or not.

  All doubts were dispelled by the immediate warmth in Jane’s voice. And her evident enthusiasm made him smile.

  ‘Oh, Jack, how amazing of you to phone. Thanks so much for thinking of me. I’m fine. It’s wonderful to hear your voice. You don’t know how much I have been longing to have a phone call from…er…someone.’

  She seemed almost relieved.

  Pleased he had followed his instincts to phone, Jack felt his shoulders relax. ‘Well, you certainly sound much better. Sorry I was in a meeting yesterday so couldn’t text for long. So, how are you enjoying staying at Scott’s?’

  There was a long, meaningful pause before a guarded and very dispirited voice said, ‘Oh, it’s…um…fine, thank you.’

  ‘You don’t sound too sure.’ Jack tried to quell his elation.

  ‘Well, it’s a lovely place but…’

  ‘But what?’

  ‘What on earth am I supposed to do all day?’

  ‘What?’ This was a totally unexpected answer.

  ‘I’ve been sitting here all morning twiddling my thumbs.’

  Jack grinned at the expression, but before he could reply there was an agonised wail of pent-up frustration.

  ‘There’s nothing to do. Do you know there aren’t any books?’ Her tone of incredulity at a house which possessed no books caused a spontaneous chuckle to escape Jack, but Jane was in full flow. ‘There’s simply nothing decent to read. Oh yes, there are loads of magazines, but I’ve read so many and they are so lightweight, I feel sick. It’s as if I’ve eaten too many meringues.’<
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  Once again, he appreciated her wonderful turn of phrase.

  ‘Well, you could swim.’ He tried to keep his voice level so she wouldn’t guess how amused he was.

  ‘No cozzie,’ Jane said flatly.

  For a moment, he was thrown. Ah, swimming costume. Trust her to use an old-fashioned expression like that. He loved the quirkiness of the conversation and tried to think what else Hollywood women did to fill their days.

  ‘Sunbathe?’ he offered tentatively.

  Jane sighed. ‘In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m a redhead,’

  As if he could forget the first sight of those glorious, sun-reflecting locks.

  ‘And,’ she continued dryly, ‘have you ever seen a redhead, a true redhead, sunbathing?’

  His lips twitched. ‘Um, no, now you come to mention it.’ In fact, did he even know any true redheads?

  ‘And…and…’ Her voice sounded worried, and he sensed she was holding something back.

  ‘Are you sure you are OK?’

  He heard a sigh, then a determined voice said, ‘Fine. Really, I’m fine, but…’ A little hesitation before she finally blurted out, ‘But I really need some more underwear.’

  There was a pause while Jack erased the smile from his tone. Was that the only problem?

  ‘Well, send out for some.’

  ‘Send out?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Like a pizza?’

  ‘Well, yes. They deliver anything in Hollywood.’ He knew underwear was probably the most innocuous thing they would deliver.

  There was a pause while he heard Jane digest this information. Then, as if emboldened by his helpfulness, she confessed forlornly, ‘Actually, what I really need to do is go back to my hotel room, for underwear, more clothes, my laptop. Also, I need a copy of my latest book and, well, all my stuff.’

  ‘Ask Scott’s driver to take you,’ he suggested.

  ‘Can I do that?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’

  ‘But he’s not hired to do stuff for me.’

  ‘Look, while you are Scott’s guest, everything of Scott’s is yours. You can do what you want.’

  ‘But I don’t want to outstay my welcome. How will I know when he wants me to go?’

  Jack gave a hollow laugh. ‘Oh, you’ll know alright. He has minions who will soon pass on the word, believe me. Why are you worried? Do you need to get back to the UK?’

  ‘Well, my money isn’t going to last much longer.’

  ‘But it isn’t costing you anything.’

  ‘But my hotel room is – and I’m not even there.’ Jane sounded despondent. He heard her give such a deep sigh, and it reached into his soul.

  To his surprise, he found himself saying, ‘If you like, I can give you a lift round to your hotel and we’ll collect all your stuff.’

  Jane gasped. ‘Really! Are you sure? That would be great. Really, really fantastic. But aren’t you busy with…stuff? I hope you don’t think I was hinting in any way. I’m sure I could sort it but it would be great to—’

  Jack interrupted, ‘No problem. If you’re really worried about money, you can collect everything and give up your hotel room totally.’

  ‘But won’t Scott think that’s a bit presumptuous…as if I expect to stay with him for a while?’

  Jack laughed at the image of Scott caring one way or the other.

  ‘You worry too much, Jane. I can assure you Scott won’t have given it a thought. If you are still concerned about it, if and when you are asked to leave, you can easily get a room at any hotel.’

  ‘Of course,’ Jane said, clearly cross with herself. ‘How stupid. Why didn’t I think of that?’

  ‘Oh, by the way,’ Jack continued, ‘I cancelled your flight, so you can try for a refund on that.’ Before Jane could thank him again, he asked, ‘How’s your visa?’

  ‘Oh, that’s OK. It’s for six months.’

  ‘So, there’s no reason why you can’t stay as long as you want to.’

  ‘True, true.’ Her tone sounded uncertain.

  ‘OK, will you be ready if I call round for you in about an hour?’

  ‘Yes, of course. Oh, that would be marvellous. Are you absolutely sure you don’t mind?’

  ‘Yes, Jane, I’m absolutely sure I don’t mind,’ he said, mimicking her English intonation, and was pleased when he heard her laugh.

  Jane was still laughing as she put down her mobile. She couldn’t believe Jack’s generosity in giving up his valuable time for her little problem. Her spirits also soared at the chance to see him again, to see that sudden grin that lit up his face, those crinkles round his dark chestnut eyes. His voice on the phone had been warm and friendly, with none of the aloofness of their first encounter.

  Dare she confide in him about last night’s events? Would it sound ludicrous if she said Scott had tried to come into her room? In the cold light of day, she was sure Scott had been too drunk to realise what he was doing. But the lingering doubt cast a huge shadow over her mind.

  She still hoped Scott could help her peddle her book in the right places. But would he expect ‘payment’ for his efforts? How compromised would she be if he did? An uneasy feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. This whole episode was turning out to be far more complicated than she’d expected.

  Chapter Seven

  An hour later, Jack’s sleek, discreet sports car crunched up Scott’s gravel drive. Jane had flurried around washing her hair and primping as best she could with Scott’s posh bathroom toiletries, and now her skin oozed with luxurious unguents and she smelt subtly fragrant. She affected a nonchalance she was far from feeling as his familiar tall, lithe frame unfolded out of the front seat of the car and strode towards her in his expensive well-fitting jeans and pale-blue linen shirt.

  There was a nervous fluttering in her stomach as he moved with an easy grace to open the car door with a theatrical flourish.

  ‘Your carriage awaits, madam.’

  ‘Thank you so much. This is so good of you. You must be so busy. I can’t believe you can find time to…and what a fantastic car. What is it? I suppose I ought to know, but it looks very swish.’

  Oh, why did she gabble so much when she was nervous? His sheer presence made her go weak at the knees. He must think she was a gibbering idiot. She must regain her composure.

  Jack smiled, ignoring all her flustered comments.

  ‘Right, get in the back and duck down under that blanket.’

  Jane’s eyes widened in astonishment. ‘Why?’

  ‘Paps.’

  ‘What!’

  ‘Oh sorry, paparazzi. I spotted one across the street as I drove in, camera at the ready.’

  ‘Why would they be there? And why would they care about me?’ Jane was mystified.

  Jack grimaced.

  ‘Look, it could be that one of those nurses at the hospital tipped off the press about you. Don’t forget, they stalk any major Hollywood star, and I figure you don’t want to be all over the papers as the mysterious woman seen driving from Scott Flynn’s house.’

  ‘Oh no. I couldn’t bear anyone to think there was any scandal.’

  ‘That’s what I figured, so duck down in the back. I’ll let you up as soon as the coast is clear.’

  He was as good as his word, stopping after a few minutes and inviting her into the front seat by him.

  Driving through the tree-lined street of Hollywood, in an open sports car, the sun on her back, and the soft wind in her hair, Jane was once again tinglingly aware of Jack’s tanned hands on the wheel. He confidently navigated his way through the busy traffic, just as he had done in the buggy. That thought reminded her of their rather acrimonious conversation when they’d first met at the studio.

  So, why was he being so good to her now? What had she done to deserve this attention? As far as she could remember, she had done everything not to deserve it.

  ‘Look, I’m really grateful.’

  ‘Yes, I know.’

  ‘What?’

/>   ‘You’ve told me several times, so I think I get the message. I can assure you it’s no trouble.’

  ‘No, you have got to let me finish. What I was going to say was…well…I was going to apologise for being so rotten, so critical of your changes to my book. I feel even worse about it now, because you have been so nice to me.’

  ‘Oh good. This trip hasn’t been in vain then.’

  Surprised, Jane turned towards him to find he was grinning broadly.

  ‘Yes, Miss Jones. As you now admit, you were annoyingly disparaging about my work, and it gives me great pleasure to know I have elicited such guilt.’

  Jane laughed. ‘Actually, I still think you shouldn’t have changed my stuff, but just wish I hadn’t said it quite so bluntly.’

  ‘Or so sarcastically.’

  ‘Was I sarcastic?’

  ‘‘Fraid so.’

  ‘I wasn’t patronising, was I?’ Jane hated the thought.

  ‘No. But you were somewhat superior.’

  ‘I wasn’t.’ Jane was shocked. ‘I definitely wasn’t superior.’

  ‘Yup, you were. Definitely superior.’

  Glancing at his rugged profile, Jane detected the slight curve of smile playing about his lips. So, he was having his revenge, was he?

  ‘Oh, so have hostilities been resumed?’

  ‘No, just a little verbal sparring, I think. But shall we call a truce for a moment, as I believe this is your hotel? Do you want a hand with your luggage or anything?’

  ‘No thank you,’ Jane said tartly. ‘In spite of my apparent feeble helplessness, I can still pack a case…and pay my bill. I’ll be as quick as I can. Twenty minutes. OK?’

  ‘Don’t rush. I have a couple of phone calls I need to make.’

  But Jane reappeared in just over twenty minutes, wheeling a small suitcase and with her laptop case over her shoulder.

  ‘Is that it? All your stuff?’ Jack asked in amazement.

  ‘Well, yes. I was only here for a week.’

  Jack laughed. ‘Most of the women I know would need a bigger case for a day…and that would just be their make-up.’

  Jane looked embarrassed. ‘Ah, in fact, I do have one more favour to ask.’