by Gina Hummer
“Do you want my answer now?” she purred.
He moved from her ear to her lips. “Mmmm…” he moaned.
She held his face in her hands. “Sleep now, trailer tomorrow.”
He grinned. “Excellent.”
Charlotte gave him one last kiss before she rolled over to assume her sleep position. David spooned around her. Within minutes they were both snoring away.
#
Charlotte and David had woken up long enough to order room service and call down to have their luggage sent up before drifting back to sleep. Their wake-up call the next day came at four in the morning, and they stumbled around the room trying, to get ready to head to the set. While David read through his script in the back of the limo, Charlotte dozed on his shoulder. When they arrived on set, David whisked her away to his trailer before having a production assistant load up a plate of fruit from the craft services table and get them both steaming mugs of coffee. After they devoured their food, Charlotte helped David run his lines before he got called to the set. Charlotte forced herself not to avail herself of the bed in the back by going back to sleep and decided to take advantage of the quiet time by continuing work on her new manuscript. She got herself a bottle of water from the mini-fridge and waited for her computer to boot up. Her home page was a news site, and as she did every morning, she scanned the various headlines. She saw David’s name in the top of a group of headlines under the “Entertainment” section. She leaned forward to read it and gasped.
“David King Playing in a Cougar’s Den,” Charlotte murmured. “Oh jeez.” She paused for a moment, contemplating if she should click on the link and read the story.
“Oh, what the hell,” she decided and clicked on the link. A photo of them getting out of the limo at LAX popped up and Charlotte groaned, before she read the blurb:
“Looks like mega heartthrob David King’s short-lived reconciliation with Olivia Hudson is kaput as he and a ‘mystery cougar’ boarded a flight to Vancouver early Wednesday morning, where King is doing some reshoots on the upcoming thriller, Claim. Could it be that 26 year-old Hudson was just a tad too young for King? Stay tuned.”
Charlotte winced. Cougar…just like her friends had warned her.
The trailer of the door swung open, and David stepped inside. “Hey, love,” he said. “Lighting problem, so thought I’d come hang out with you for a few moments.” He looked over her shoulder and saw what she was reading. “Bad?” he asked.
“I don’t know about bad, but definitely not good.”
David read it and shook his head. “Charlotte, you’re too smart to let this get you down. I could be five years younger than you and it would say the same stupid thing.” David flopped down on the couch across from her. “Personally, I don’t see what the big deal is. My dad was twelve years older than my mum, and nobody ever said a word. I really don’t get why it’s such a big deal for the woman to be older. After all, it’s not like we’re the first couple---- and won’t be the last, I might add---- who are like this.” He shrugged and stretched out on the couch. “I find it bloody fascinating that people would find this scandalous or strange.”
Charlotte cocked her head and looked at him, still amazed over his nonchalance over their age difference.
“How’d you get to be so wise?” she asked.
“Years of practice,” he grinned.
“You really are an old soul, you know that?”
“So I’ve been told.” He nodded toward her laptop. “I hope you were actually going to do some work and not just surf the Web all day reading tacky tabloid articles.”
“No, no, no. I really am planning to do some work on my new book.”
David sat up and stood over her. “Oh yeah? What’s this one about?”
Charlotte ran her hand up David’s thigh until it landed on his butt cheek. “Can’t tell you yet, although I do need some inspiration.”
He pulled Charlotte into a kiss. “It’ll probably be about an hour before they get that lighting thing resolved,” he breathed.
Charlotte chuckled and began to undo the buttons of his shirt. “Good. Maybe you can inspire me twice.”
“Indeed. Just don’t smear my makeup,” David said as he picked up a giggling Charlotte and carried her to the back of the trailer.
#
It was late afternoon when Charlotte looked up from her laptop and rubbed her eyes. The words were starting to blend into each other, which was her cue to take a break. Charlotte stood and stretched before she stepped outside for some fresh air. Even though the sun shone, it did little to warm the crisp, cool air. Charlotte shivered a bit as she made her way to the one of the director’s chairs just outside David’s trailer. She peeled her eyes for David, but all she could see were cranes and lights and cameras and a bunch of people running around like chickens freed from the coop. Charlotte closed her eyes and let the chilly wind wash over her face for a moment. She took a big inhale and opened her eyes in time to see William decked out in yet another impeccable suit, walking toward her. She smiled and waved.
“How’s everything?” she asked.
William nodded and dragged a nearby director’s chair and planted it next to Charlotte’s. “Everything’s on schedule, and who knows? We may even get out of here a day early. And you?”
Charlotte nodded. “Good. Just taking a break.”
“Ah, yes. The books, right? David told me about that. He’s determined to read them all, you know.” William snapped his fingers. “Hey, maybe we can option some.”
Charlotte shook her head. “If my books were made into movies, they’d be the kind you show on cable at three in the morning.”
“Hey, don’t knock it. There’s a market for just about everything.”
Charlotte grinned. “True.”
William shifted in his seat to face her. “There’s something else I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Okay. Shoot.”
“I know from here you guys are heading to New York for a premiere.”
Charlotte nodded. “Right, except I’m meeting David after the red carpet.”
William rubbed his earlobe and looked down at his lap. “Listen; he would never say this because he’s a selfless son of a bitch---- which as you know gets him into trouble---- but it would mean a lot to him if you were there.”
Charlotte straightened up a little in her seat. “Really?”
“You better believe it. And hey, it might not be a bad idea. You know, just get the photo ops out of the way and be done with it. Then maybe the press will move on. Otherwise they’ll just ----”
“Crawl up our asses with flashlights and never leave us alone,” Charlotte cut him off as she remembered Karen’s declarations.
William chuckled. “Yeah, that’s about the size of it, kid.”
Charlotte spun a lock of hair around her fingers, mulling over what William had said. “I mean what you’re saying makes sense, but...”
“But what?”
“Well I don’t have----”
William nodded, understanding. “A dress. Got it. I’ll take care of everything. You tell David that tomorrow you’re taking a little ‘me’ time, and he can hang out in that drafty trailer by himself.” Charlotte giggled in spite of herself.
“You got it. What time should I be ready?”
William stood. “Be downstairs at ten a.m.”
#
The next morning Charlotte was downstairs in the circular driveway in front of the hotel at ten sharp. David had struggled out of bed at five and had given her a quick peck before he trudged off to the set. Charlotte didn’t tell David, but she was actually glad not to drag herself out of bed at an ungodly hour.
She looked around now for William but didn’t see him. The limo they’d been riding around in pulled up in front of her and the hotel doorman opened the door for her. The driver started to pull away.
“Oh, no. We can’t leave yet,” she called out. “I’m waiting for----”
“I’m to take you
to Holt Renfrew this morning, where everything will be taken care of,” the driver smiled.
Charlotte leaned back. “Oh.” She wrinkled her nose. “What’s Holt Renfrew?”
“Finest department store in Vancouver.”
Charlotte’s cell phone trilled inside her purse. She didn’t recognize the number but answered anyway.
“Hello?”
“Good morning, Char; how are you?” William asked.
“I’m fine, except I’m a little confused. I thought you were coming with me.”
“Oh, no, no. Sorry to have mixed you up. I’ve got to be on set all day, but when you get to Holt Renfrew, head up to the fourth floor women’s department, personal shopping---- ask for Evelyn.”
Charlotte breathed a sigh of relief. Shopping wasn’t her strong suit, but at least she’d have some help.
“Thanks, William,” she said. “It seems you’ve thought of everything.”
“Always do. See you later sweetheart. And have fun!”
Charlotte smiled and hung up, a little nervous and a little excited.
#
Charlotte twirled a piece of hair around her fingers as she stepped off the escalator on the fourth floor. Impeccably attired mannequins loomed above her as she walked past racks of expensive clothes in search of her destination. She was more comfortable among the jean-laden tables of The Gap or Old Navy than in a high-end department store like this one. She looked for the floor signage directing her to ‘Personal Shopping’ and within a matter of moments located the elegant suite awash in soft, soothing shades of taupe tucked into the back of the floor. The young redheaded girl sitting behind the desk smiled when Charlotte walked up.
“May I help you?”
Charlotte bit her lip and looked around, now a little uncertain. “Yes, hi, um… I have an appointment with Evelyn.”
“And your name?”
“Charlotte. Charlotte Taylor.”
“Ah yes, Miss Taylor. We’ve been expecting you.” She came from behind the desk and ushered Charlotte over to two plush, oversized chairs in decorated in alternating shiny and matte taupe stripes. “Have a seat, and I’ll let Evelyn know you’re here. Can I get you some water?”
“Yes, please. Thank you.”
The woman walked back to a small table near the desk where there was a glass pitcher filled with water next to a set of small crystal glasses. She filled one with water and brought it over to Charlotte.
“Here you go. Be right back.”
Charlotte sipped the water and detected the faint taste of cucumber. Okay, this is my new favorite thing, Charlotte chuckled to herself before she finished the whole glass.
A tall, toothpick-thin woman emerged from the back. She was adorned in a cloud of perfume along with black-and-white houndstooth jacket trimmed with bits of fringe at the wrist, along the bottom hem, and up and down the lapel. She also wore a knee-length black wool skirt, and her sheer black pantyhose swished as she moved. Her jet black hair was pulled back into a French twist, and her lips were lined in bright red, a brilliant contrast against the alabaster veneer of her skin.
“Miss Taylor?” she inquired in a nasally voice curiously devoid of a Canadian accent.
“Uh, yes, that’s me. I’m Charlotte Taylor,” she stammered.
The woman smiled, a surprisingly warm and welcoming smile considering the high pitch of her voice and sophisticated appearance. Charlotte decided she probably wasn’t all that different from Hendra---- tough-looking on the outside and a marshmallow on the inside.
“I’m Evelyn and I’ll be assisting you today.” When Evelyn clasped her hands, Charlotte noticed that her nails were lacquered in a shade matching her lipstick. Charlotte shoved the ratty cuticles of her own hands into the pockets of her jeans. “So I understand we have a special event coming up in New York. Walking the red carpet?”
“Yes, so I’ll need a dress for that.”
“Uh huh. I see,” Evelyn said as she began to circle Charlotte, sizing her up. She put a hand on her hip and leaned back as she continued her appraisal of Charlotte. “Probably going to dinner, see some shows too, I would imagine.”
Charlotte paused. She hadn’t thought about that, but Evelyn was probably right.
“Yes, that too.”
“Right, right.” Evelyn tapped her long, tapered fingers together and inhaled. “Well, dear, I have some absolutely fabulous things to show you. Don’t you worry,” she smiled.
Charlotte nodded and returned Evelyn’s smile. “Okay. Oh! I should probably give you my
size----”
“Already know it, dear,” Evelyn winked. “Your advance man, as it were, gave us an estimate. And I have to say he got it pretty well on the mark. Must know his way around a woman’s body,” Evelyn muttered as she signaled to Charlotte to follow her to the back and the dressing suites, where a rack of dresses in every conceivable color and style waited for them. Evelyn began to rifle through the dresses, her face screwed up in concentration.
“Now,” she said more to herself than Charlotte. “Let’s see. Oh, yes, this one---- let’s try this one on first,” she muttered as she extracted a dress from the rack and held it up for Charlotte’s inspection.
“You can never go wrong with classic little black dress. As Coco said, we should all have one. And black is very slimming.”
Charlotte winced. “Whatever you think is best,” she said meekly.
Evelyn rolled her eyes. “Oh for heaven’s sake, dear; don’t get offended. First off, you have an absolutely lovely figure. Second, even the skinniest of girls should wear black. It does wonders for us all.” She thrust the dress at Charlotte. “Go on now, dear. Try it on.”
Charlotte stepped into the dressing room to try on the sequined cocktail dress with a scooped neckline and a full skirt that flared at the bottom. Charlotte inspected herself in the mirror, not crazy about the way it looked on her. Of course she thought everything looked bad on her. She’d let Evelyn be the judge. Evelyn frowned when Charlotte stepped out of the dressing room and dove back into the rack for another dress. Charlotte tried on dress after dress, and there was something just a little bit off about each of them; too short, too long, wrong color, wrong fit. Charlotte was growing frustrated over not being able to find the right one. She wanted it to be perfect so she wouldn’t embarrass David on the red carpet. Or herself.
Evelyn finally brought out a simple, floor-length black sheath dress with an empire bodice, square neckline, and small slit up the back. Charlotte held her breath when she zipped it up and looked in the mirror. She gasped and ran out of the dressing room where Evelyn was standing over her rack of dresses, giving them a disapproving stare.
“My dear, I just can’t----” she looked up as Charlotte came out. “My goodness,” Evelyn beamed. “It’s lovely. Absolutely lovely.” She walked around Charlotte, giving her the once-over, her approval evident.
“Yes?” Charlotte asked, her excitement bubbling up inside her.
Evelyn nodded and put her hand on her hip. “Dear, you’re a vision.”
Charlotte let out a round of giddy applause, and Evelyn joined in her laughter. “Okay, now that we’ve got that nailed down, let’s move on to the rest of the trip!”
Fortunately, the rest of the shopping was a breeze, as Evelyn helped Charlotte find two more outfits appropriate for going out on the town in New York on the arm of a famous actor, even picking out the right accessories and shoes. Charlotte, overwhelmed, felt like Cinderella. She never spent this much time on herself, but she was surprised to find she actually enjoyed it. Evelyn’s assistant rang up the purchases and told Charlotte she’d have everything delivered to the hotel later that afternoon. On impulse, Charlotte hugged a startled Evelyn.
“Oh my dear. What was that for?”
“To thank you for helping me today. I wouldn’t have had clue one about how to do this.”
Evelyn patted Charlotte on the arm. “Well dear, the tabloids are merciless. Can’t have you winding up on the ‘Wha
t Was She Thinking?’ list.”
Charlotte giggled.
Evelyn pulled Charlotte to the side. “You know dear,” she spoke in hushed tones. “It might not be a bad idea to visit our salon---- sixth floor. You know a little manicure, a little pedicure. The tabloids are relentless. Even a tiny little hair out of place and quelle catastrophe.” Evelyn straightened up. “Not saying you have to change who you are. Just saying a little freshening up never hurt anybody.”
Charlotte broke out into a smile and cocked her head to the side. “You know, that might not be such a bad idea.”
“I’ll call up for you, if you like.”
Charlotte nodded. “That would be nice, Evelyn. Thank you.”
Evelyn winked and walked over to the phone on the front desk. “You’re welcome and good luck dear.”
Charlotte waved good bye and headed toward the escalator to the salon. She laughed and shook her head.
“This really is like Pretty Woman,” she whispered to herself.
#
Three hours later, Charlotte emerged from the Holt Renfrew salon with a new pale-pink manicure and matching pedicure. They’d even washed and conditioned her hair for her, and her curls seemed to have an extra bounce. Never in her life had she ever done either of those things, and once again Charlotte was amazed to discover it wasn’t as torturous or unnecessary as she’d always thought. Maybe she’d make a habit out of it.
The driver had told her to call him when she was ready to be picked up, and just as she pulled out her phone she passed by the make-up counter. Charlotte slowed as she scanned the displays, lit up like Christmas trees with an assortment of shiny ornaments and glossy-colored packages underneath. Charlotte stood in front of one counter, mesmerized. Images of the Internet story about her being a “cougar” echoed in Charlotte’s head, and she suddenly pictured the young and firm Olivia with her silky smooth skin and freakishly long legs. Charlotte wiped her hand down her face to erase the pictures from her head. She looked back at the bottles and potions and grimaced.
