Love in La La Land

by Lynn Forth

  But Scott had also had a bad night, and he had wandered in, bleary-eyed and stroppy, looking for Maria to fix him some strong black coffee.

  Case in hand, it was obvious Jane was leaving and, to her surprise, he still didn’t want her to go. She had tried in vain to tell him that she felt like a pawn in the battle between him and Savannah.

  Jane had very carefully avoided any mention of Jack and the bet, but Scott immediately accused her of leaving to be with Jack.

  Peevishly, he insisted he wanted her to stay. ‘How can you be so ungrateful?’ he challenged. ‘Don’t you know it is all over between me and Savannah?’

  He wasn’t very rational, and Jane suspected he was still a little drunk. So, when Jack phoned during their argument, she had been desperate to avoid adding fuel to the jealous fire. And to avoid confrontation and to appease the truculent Scott, she agreed to stay.

  If she had felt braver, she would have tackled him about the previous night. So much for all his promises about promoting her book. He hadn’t uttered one word about her being a writer. Flattering as it might be, she knew she had just been the proverbial eye candy, there to engender gossip and make Savannah jealous.

  How could she have been taken in by Scott’s assurances of his power to make things happen? Yet another example of her stupidity. There was no way anyone in Hollywood was going to bother to read her book.

  But, in the light of everything else, she no longer cared. So what, if her finances were shot? So what, if she had to sell up in London and go back home to Yorkshire? Right now, she couldn’t wait to be back in the bosom of her family, away from all this heartache and madness. She’d just bide her time, smile sweetly at Scott, and leave the minute he went to the studio.

  Unfortunately, as chance would have it, he wasn’t needed there today, so he lolled around all morning, gazing grumpily at Jane. Knowing she was under his suspicious scrutiny, she ostentatiously busied herself leafing through his ‘library’ of glossy magazines – all, of course, featuring articles about the wonderful Scott Flynn.

  He perked up a little when his fitness trainer arrived, and he began to work out flamboyantly beside the pool, preening as he did his bare-chested lunges, performing all his exercises for her admiration.

  Fully understanding her role, Jane gazed adoringly at this fit, young Adonis. He really did have a great body, but, as Jane analysed her feelings, she realised she felt no stirrings of lust, no inklings of desire. Nothing, other than a dispassionate awareness of a fine physique performing an almost risible attention-seeking display of poses. Not daring to smile, she pretended to be suitably impressed and upped her enthralled vocabulary to the hilt.

  ‘You look amazing, Scott, almost a demi-god. I can imagine you on Mount Olympus vying with Hercules, or in the Trojan Wars riding a chariot with Achilles…’

  She tailed off. Seeing the puzzled frown on Scott’s handsome face, she realised all he really needed to hear were lots of ‘ooohs’ and ‘aaahs’. When she obliged, it seemed to do the trick, and his good humour returned.

  At one point, he ran over to offer her the chance to feel his ‘guns’ and run her hands over his pecs. Although reluctant, Jane was reassured by the presence of the muscle-bound trainer, and tentatively touched Scott’s body. If anything, it was embarrassing, but she tried to look bashfully thrilled.

  Her blushes, though, seemed to reignite Scott’s ardour. From the light in his eyes, she knew he would attempt to seduce her again. For some reason, her English reserve clearly baffled him, and turned him on.

  She had to get out.

  The long morning wore on. At last, he announced that he was going to get changed for an important lunch appointment, to talk about a role with a famous producer she had never heard of.

  ‘It’s a major role, of course,’ he lost no time informing her, as he did a final preen before the large hall mirror, ‘with a much bigger budget than this present one. Oh, and the meeting’s at a very exclusive restaurant, so of course I can’t take you. Normally, people have to wait weeks for a table there. But those in the big league can get one just like that.’ He clicked his fingers imperiously.

  Giving one last satisfied glance at his reflection, he turned and seized her in a passionate embrace, giving her a long, lingering kiss full on the lips. With the admonition to ‘be good’ while he was gone, he winked at her knowingly as he strode towards his car.

  If Jane had had any doubts about his intentions in keeping her there, they were immediately dispelled by that lascivious kiss. But she kept the smile frozen on her lips, and continued her farewell wave till his car slid through the gates.

  Exhaling in relief, Jane slumped against the hot wall for a few minutes. Her brain kicked into gear with all the things she had resolved to do, but she still waited an interminably long five minutes to ensure he had really gone and wouldn’t pop back and catch her in the act of departure.

  Upstairs on her balcony, she listened intently for the sound of a car returning while she called for a taxi to pick her up outside the back gate, hoping against hope that the paparazzi would have left to follow Scott.

  She knew they were always lurking. She remembered the flash of the cameras as they had set off for the party the night before, so knew she had been photographed with her arms around Scott to support him. And again, there had been the tell-tale flashes from their resident pap on their return home in the car, catching them with Scott’s head slumped on her shoulder.

  The taxi arrived, and Jane was pretty sure she hadn’t been spotted as she escaped. Finding an anonymous cheap hotel near the airport, one that she hoped neither Scott nor Jack could find, she paid off the taxi and went inside to book a room.

  As she closed and locked the door on the clean, plain room, then – and only then – did she allow herself to relax. Feeling totally exhausted by all the tension of the previous night’s events, she turned off her phone, collapsed onto the bed, and fell into a deep sleep.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Awaking with a start a few hours later, fully dressed, on a strange bed in unfamiliar surroundings, Jane panicked a little. Then, with a thud, she remembered everything.

  A tight hand squeezed her heart, and for a moment she felt breathless with anguish.

  A couple of short weeks ago, her trip to Hollywood had seemed like a thrilling adventure, and she had set off full of anticipation and shining expectations. When her first book had been bought for a movie, it had been unexpected and the windfall of money had been astonishing. With her second book, she had been relying on the same thing happening again. But a boring, and increasingly desperate, week trawling her book around the outer offices of various studios had definitely blunted her optimism. As a consequence, she had formed a very jaded view of this so-called fairy-tale world. Which was why the events of the last few days had been so astounding.

  As a novelist, she was adept at inventing surprising scenarios and unexpected twists and turns, but even she could never have predicted her stay at Scott’s, his attempts at seduction, and her rejection of his overtures. And never, never have foreseen that she would fall so completely for a man like Jack bloomin’ Clancy.

  How could she have lowered her guard like that, be so taken in by a roguish smile, a pair of dark brown eyes, and—

  Stop it. Stop it.

  This would never do, she chided herself. It’s over.

  How much of it was the location’s fault? Had this glamorous bubble world affected her judgment? Had it dazzled and blinded her to reality? Was it a giant whirlpool, sucking people in and not letting them go till they had lost all their pride and common sense?

  Common sense. She, who had always prided herself on her grounded Yorkshire common sense, had in fact been totally swept off her feet and left with a feeling of complete disorientation.

  She grimaced. Well, pride definitely comes before a fall…and, boy, had she fallen.

  Bleakly, she stared at the bare walls of the cheap hotel room, feeling despair lapping at the edges of
her mind.

  She must escape the clutches of this alien world and blast off back to planet earth. She was convinced everything would get back into perspective once she got home.

  Thank goodness it hadn’t gone any further than that brief but passionate encounter in Jack’s former study. At least she’d done nothing she would regret later.

  How cheap would she have felt if she had succumbed to her instincts, given in to her sexual yearnings, and then been rejected. She couldn’t have given Jack her body without also giving her heart. How devastating it would have been to then discover the true nature of his feelings, or lack of them.

  So much for love at first sight. She’d had a lucky escape. But she didn’t feel lucky; she felt wretched.

  Once home, she could begin the process of forgetting all about Jack. Put it all down to experience; Hollywood experience. You never know, she thought, she might one day even incorporate it into one of her books.

  But not yet. Not for a long while. It was still far too raw.

  First, she had to escape – go home, where she felt secure and loved, and where her aching heart could heal.

  Resolutely opening her laptop, she began to search for a flight home, away from all this misery. Tears blurred her vision as she trawled through all the information on her screen, and eventually booked the first available flight for the next morning.

  Then, reluctantly, she switched on her phone to tell her mum she was on her way home.

  So far, she had told her family very little of her adventure. She knew her mother had somehow formed the impression that she was staying with an old friend, but had been much less curious than she usually was and hadn’t submitted her daughter to her normal inquisition about her safety and exact whereabouts.

  And although Jane had texted Milly often with exciting teasers about what she’d been up to in Hollywood, her sister had surprisingly not responded. Perhaps Milly, always a little chaotic, was confused by the time differences between England and California? Or, far more likely, she was just totally caught up with looking after baby Charlie. Jane had to admit that she was a little hurt that none of her sisters had been in touch. She knew how involved they all were with their own families, but would have really enjoyed the squeals of disbelief as she revealed that her ‘old friend’ was really movie hunk Scott Flynn.

  Maybe it was just as well, she sighed. The recent situation had become so messy that it would have been difficult to explain as it was unfolding. She would have time on the flight home to think carefully before regaling her family with her Hollywood happenings. A prudently abridged version, of course. She would hide the painful parts as much as possible, for as long as possible.

  Jane wearily settled down on the bed, phone in hand, practising what she was going to say to her mum. She would need to keep her voice upbeat to avoid her mum suspecting anything was amiss.

  To her surprise, the phone was answered almost immediately, even though it was early in the morning in the UK. Her mum sounded relieved that she was coming home, but her voice was strained and immediately Jane knew something was wrong.

  ‘What’s the matter, Mum? You sound worried. I hope you haven’t been fretting about me. I’m fine, you know.’

  ‘Well, Bella carissima…er…it’s just that…um…we will be so glad when you come home.’

  Was she crying?

  ‘Mum, what’s going on?’ Jane was really alarmed now.

  ‘It’s nothing, nothing, just…’ Her mother’s voice faltered, clearly trying to suppress her tears.

  ‘For goodness sake, tell me what’s happened,’ she pleaded.

  It didn’t take long to prise the awful news out, and her mother sobbed openly as she explained that Milly’s six-month-old baby, Carlo – Charlie to the family – was desperately ill in hospital.

  ‘It is something to do with his heart. We think it might be like…well, you know…like Gianna had all those years ago.’

  An icy hand gripped Jane’s heart and squeezed. Her mother heard her gasp of pain.

  ‘No, cara, it won’t be like last time. Your father says medicine has moved on so much in the last 20 years. Charlie has had so many tests, and we don’t know for sure it’s the same as Gianni. But he is so very, very poorly. It breaks my heart to see him there, just lying there with all those tubes…’

  ‘Oh Mum, why on earth didn’t you tell me before? I could have come home.’

  ‘No, no. We knew that’s what you would say, so Milly made me promise not to tell you. She didn’t want to spoil your trip by worrying you. But now that you are actually coming home, I can tell you.’

  ‘I’ll see if there’s an earlier flight.’

  ‘You’ll do no such thing,’ her mother replied, more in control of her emotions. ‘There is nothing you can do here.’

  ‘But I could be with you all, helping.’

  ‘I know, I know. But everyone is taking turns at the hospital. Your father is contacting every specialist he knows. There was really nothing you could have done, but it will be lovely to see you again. Milly especially will love having you home. I think she has really missed you.’

  Her mother explained that they were anxiously waiting for the latest news from an eminent heart specialist whom her father had contacted, which was the reason she had snatched up the phone so quickly.

  Not wanting to engage the line any longer than was necessary, Jane rapidly relayed her flight details and urged her mother to keep her in touch with any developments, then swiftly rang off.

  As she ended the call, Jane began digesting the news.

  Her lovely, little bubbly nephew Charlie lay critically ill in hospital. Milly and all the family were worried sick, and all the while she had been selfishly enjoying herself in this insubstantial La-La-Land of deceit and hypocrisy.

  She hoped and prayed that it wouldn’t be like last time, when her little brother Gianni had died so suddenly, so alone. How could she ever forget that winter morning when she had been the one to walk in and discover his tiny, cold body? Pictures rose unbidden before her eyes. No, no, she couldn’t go there. She gulped air to suppress her sobs. It would not happen again. Whatever it took, it was not going to happen ever again.

  How awful to know that the family had kept all this worry from her. It explained why her sisters hadn’t contacted her. And she had been stupidly feeling hurt because no-one seemed interested in her adventures.

  She was heartily ashamed of herself. How could all the awful petty jealousies, family feuds and superficialities of La-La-Land have so totally consumed her thoughts?

  No wonder Jack always called it Tinseltown.

  Just this sudden passing thought caused her heart to convulse. She gasped. The mere memory of one of his phrases had triggered an instinctive reaction. It was going to be difficult to eradicate Jack from her thoughts. But eradicate him she must.

  She was going home to real life. The very real world of her family, and their care and love for each other. Genuine, unselfish love. Love that sought to support and protect each other.

  It had even tried to protect her from worrying about her nephew.

  She was angry with herself for having been so caught up with her own world that she hadn’t noticed the tired, distracted tone in her mother’s voice during her brief phone calls. How self-absorbed she had become…just like everyone else in Hollywood.

  Well, that was all over now. She must turn her back on this brief interlude in her life, and do everything she could to support her youngest sister and her baby son. Whatever it took, Charlie must be saved.

  Her mobile rang, and she instinctively snatched it up.

  It was Jack.

  ‘Hi Jane. Is it OK to talk now?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You can still call me Mum, if you want.’

  ‘What? Oh yes. The last time, I didn’t want Scott to know it was you.’

  ‘I gathered that,’ Jack said with a chortle, obviously remembering his surprise at being called Mum. ‘Where is he now?�
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  ‘I don’t know. I…er…I escaped after lunch. I’m in a hotel now.’

  There was a huge sigh of relief from Jack. ‘Thank goodness. I was worried he was being difficult. Did he try to stop you?’

  ‘Well, he didn’t want me to go, though I still can’t understand why.’ Her pride told her that he mustn’t suspect that she knew about the sordid bet between them. ‘Anyway, I waited till he went out then called a taxi and left. Stupidly, despite everything, I still feel a bit mean about it.’

  ‘Don’t worry, he’ll get over it. So, what do you want to do now? Where are you? I can come over—’

  ‘No, Jack. I can’t stay in America any longer. I’ve got to get home.’

  ‘Jane, what’s happened? What’s wrong?’

  The concern in his voice sounded so genuine, Jane couldn’t trust herself to answer.

  ‘Jane, where are you? I’m coming over to see you right now.’

  ‘No, Jack. Really. I must get home. I’ve booked my flight.’

  ‘You weren’t going without saying goodbye, I hope?’ Jack sounded mystified and shocked.

  ‘Look, it’s complicated,’ she said wearily. ‘I’m not sure seeing you would be such a good idea.’

  ‘Why not?’ Was that hurt, as well as astonishment, Jane could hear in his voice?

  There was a pause as Jane stifled a sob. It was all very well making a stern resolve never to see him again, but hearing him and knowing he was just a few miles away was a totally difference matter.

  ‘Jane, has something happened? Has Scott…hurt you in any way?’

  ‘No, no, nothing like that.’

  ‘So, what’s the matter? Why don’t you want to see me? I mean, I thought you and I had a…a connection. Before Scott came in at the party, we…’ He paused before continuing anxiously, ‘Something is obviously wrong. Look, the least you can do is give me an explanation of why things have changed between us.’

  There was another silence.

  ‘Jane, is there something you are not telling me? I must see you. We need to talk. Where are you?’