Fame

by Susan X Meagher

  Haley supposed she should have made an effort to be friendly. But since she was working exclusively with birds, and he had control of all the reptiles, they really didn’t need to interact. So, she put in long hours working with several species of bird, focusing most of her attention on Bobby, who had a pretty big role. He was as smart as a whip, and she was sure she’d have him ready when it was his turn to shine. But talking to a bird all day wasn’t doing much for her mood, which had gone from bad to worse.

  One night, after a long day of working with Bobby, she called home, smiling a little when her mom answered. “It’s so nice to hear a human voice,” Haley said. “I’ve just about had it with squawking.”

  “Ooh, no better?” her mom asked solicitously.

  “Not really. I’m in Hawaii for the first time, and I don’t have anyone to hang out with. I guess I should take a cab down to the beach or something, but I just order room service.”

  “Go do something, honey! How about a luau?”

  “Not alone, Mom. That wouldn’t be any fun at all. I’ll just hang out until we leave for the little island. Then I’ll be around hundreds of people.”

  “Including Piper,” her mom said, stating the obvious. “How will that be?”

  “Not sure. I asked her to ignore me, and I’m hoping she does. But I’ll have to work with Charlie on a few important scenes. Not looking forward to that,” she said with finality.

  “Has Piper even tried to contact you, honey?”

  “Well, I blocked her number, so she can’t call. And I created a special mailbox for anything she sends me. Goes right to trash.”

  “I know it hurts, but that’s probably the best way to handle it.” She was quiet for a moment, then added, “Unless you think it’s worth another chance…”

  “Seriously?” Haley asked, slightly stunned. “You were ready to go to LA to knock her around for me just a week ago.”

  “Oh, I was not,” she said, chuckling. “But I’ll admit I was plenty steamed.”

  “So? What makes you even suggest another chance?”

  “I don’t know,” she said thoughtfully. “I just think of how you talked about her when you visited, honey. There have been other girls, but you’ve never sounded that…hopeful,” she finished softly.

  “I was,” Haley admitted, her stomach turning sour. “She was damn near perfect, Mom.”

  “You have good instincts, honey. Given you were so sure of her, isn’t it possible you’ve got some facts wrong? You haven’t even spoken to her.”

  “I suppose it’s possible,” she sighed. “But then I think about how hard it is to make a relationship work, and I’m just afraid we’ve run out of chances. You know?”

  “Not at all. What are you getting at?”

  “We’ve talked about this a lot. How every relationship takes a load of work.”

  “Of course. But what—”

  “I feel like we’d be starting with two strikes. It’s hard making a relationship work when you’re just stepping up to the plate. But, even if some of the facts are different than they look, she either lied, or omitted important things, or manipulated me to get what she wants…” She blew out a breath. “The odds of getting a hit when you start with two strikes aren’t good. I don’t think I’d ever be able to forget the strikes…you know? I’d always be looking for a fastball off the inside corner.”

  “Maybe I’d better put your dad on. He can translate all of that sports talk.”

  “Just metaphors,” Haley sighed. “Metaphors for screwing up something really promising.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  THE MORNING THEY WERE TO leave for Hawaii, they finished packing, then Piper went down her checklist, making sure she’d gotten the house battened down and had notified all of the usual service people to reduce their maintenance visits.

  Delta was prancing around the house, amped up by all of the activity. His carrier was lying on the floor, and he got into it several times and let out a yip, letting them know he was ready to go.

  The doorbell rang and Piper went to answer, led by the tiny guard dog, barking fiercely. She bent over and picked him up, a move that always made him stop yipping and start wagging his tail. A fresh-faced, smiling young black woman stood at the door. “Piper?”

  “That’s me.”

  “Good to finally meet you. Zandra Robinson,” she said, sticking her hand out to let Delta sniff it. “Is Delta ready for his first big trip?”

  Piper instinctively pulled him back and cuddled him to her chest. It was crazy to be so protective of the pup, but he’d become a member of the family. Giving him to a stranger for the day made sense—but sense had nothing to do with emotion. “It’s good to meet you, Zandra. Sorry I’ve been such a lunatic about the little guy.”

  “Don’t give that another thought. You care for him deeply,” she said, sounding like a twenty-something Zen master. She must have already had her butt chewed innumerable times to have her spiel down so perfectly.

  “I guess he’s ready,” Piper said. “I’ll get his carrier.”

  Zandra waited outside, clearly attuned to how paranoid many actors were to letting people inside their lairs. Delta jumped around excitedly as Piper loaded him in, but stopped his happy yip when she handed him, his medical records, and full-color pictures of him—just in case he managed to get away—over. “You’re certain everything is set, right?”

  “Positive,” Zandra said. “Technically, I’m a production assistant, but handling transfers has turned me into one of the best pet wranglers in the business.”

  “You like doing that?”

  “I do. I know it’s hard to let him go, but he’ll be happier not having a swarm of reporters yelling and taking photos when you get off the plane.”

  “Yeah, I guess that’s true…”

  Zandra lowered her voice. “It’s also better for Charlie. If he howls and cries during the flight, you don’t want someone broadcasting every bark to all of their followers on social media. It seems like every jerk pays for in-flight internet.”

  “Right. I didn’t think of that.” Piper stuck her hands in her pockets, feeling strangely impotent with Delta out of her control. “When’s your flight?”

  “Not for six hours. It’s best to fly at night, after I’ve had time to wear him out. We’ll spend the day at the park, then I’ll give him a little food two hours before we take off. That will give him enough time to go to the bathroom before we board.” She petted the carrier, seemingly competent and sure of herself. “As soon as we land, we’ll call.”

  “Okay. I’m not sure when we’ll be in our room…”

  “No problem. I’ll keep him overnight if you want me to. You and Charlie are going to have your hands full today.”

  “True.” A nervous laugh was the best she could summon. “I shouldn’t be so possessive…” Her fingers itched to yank that carrier off Zandra’s shoulder and take her little guy back.

  “Everyone’s possessive about their pet.” She gripped the carrier and held it up to her face, speaking in a soft, calm fashion. “We’ll have a fun day, won’t we, Delta? And tonight you’ll be in Hawaii. A whole new place for you to explore.”

  “Thanks,” Piper said, gripping Zandra’s shoulder briefly. “Take care of him, okay?”

  “Will do. Guaranteed!” she chirped, turning to go back to her car. Piper watched them leave, reassured that Delta didn’t seem to mind being ripped from her arms. She slapped herself on both cheeks, trying to snap out of this uncharacteristically melancholy mood.

  After doing one last check of the house and grounds, and picking up a couple of Delta’s stuffed animals that had escaped her previous scan, she found her mind wandering. While standing by the pool, thoughts of the few evenings she’d spent there with Haley assaulted her. That last one had been so fucking great. They were totally on the same wavelength, both wanting to really connect, to go deeper. How could Haley just disappear when things had been so promising? Didn’t their history give her the r
ight to offer her version of events?

  She’d talked herself out of it a hundred times, but now gave in and took the phone from her pocket. After dialing the number, she heard Haley’s smooth, calm voice tell her to leave a message.

  “Here’s a message,” Piper said, her anger building in a flash. “You suck! I’m sure the mature thing would be to act like we didn’t have anything important between us and walk away bloodlessly. But I’m not going to be mature. I’m going to tell you exactly how hurt I am. How betrayed I feel. I could have loved you, Haley. Easily. And if we’d fallen in love, I guarantee we would have been great together. But you let your past fuck the whole thing up. You say you want a wife? Good luck with that. Being committed means hanging in there when things upset you, not sending a fucking email and cutting off all communication. I know you’re busy, but it might be a good idea to go to therapy to figure out why you’re such a shit. And a coward. And a—” The message timed out before she could call her any more names. But anger still burned inside her, making her a little weak. She sat on a chaise and let her head drop into her hands, impotent tears starting to flow again. She had a million things to do, and not much time to get them done. But she needed some time to herself to wallow in her feelings. Despite the brief time she and Haley had spent together, her dreams had been huge, and they deserved a funeral.

  “Pip?”

  Piper looked up at the second floor, and sighed. Then she slapped at her thighs and stood. The funeral had been very, very brief.

  The last hour was crazy, trying to do Charlie’s hair and makeup while she kept getting up to shove one last thing into her overstuffed suitcases. The limo pulled up in the alley at ten, right on time. Thankfully, the driver was beyond helpful, dashing in to wrangle the suitcases across the back yard while Piper held her sister in place for one final inspection.

  She looked fantastic, in a Hawaiian-themed blue and white print sundress and casual, bone-colored sandals. Her hair and makeup had her looking fresh and young and as wholesome as Mom’s apple pie—something a woman as skinny as she was never ate.

  Piper gazed into her eyes, then put a hand on her cheek, cupping it tenderly. “Just remember,” she said, making her tone sober as she pointed toward the door. “Charlie Summers, movie star, is out there.” She tapped her chest. “Charlie Summers, human being, is in here. They’re not the same.”

  “I know that, Pip.” Charlie’s arms slipped around her and squeezed. “I’m a goofy, working class girl from the Valley who lucked into something that pays a ton.” That might have been true, technically. But she also had gifts. Some things she’d had to work at, some which came to her naturally. Like the luminous smile that beamed at Piper, bright enough to make you reach for your sunglasses.

  ***

  Piper checked out the leather first class seat, marveling at all of the switches and levers she had to play with. It was an older plane, so they didn’t have lie flat beds, but the seats reclined a good amount, letting her stretch out. She hadn’t traveled much, and her flights had always been chosen solely on price, usually putting her in the middle seat in the back of the plane. It was going to be tough going back there when this was all over, but she was definitely going back. While it was nice having three or four inches of extra space for her butt, and even more for her legs, it wasn’t worth three times the price—when she was paying. But the studio was footing the bill for this ride, and she was going to enjoy the perks while they lasted.

  Charlie was on the phone, making use of the time they had before takeoff. Piper had no idea who she was speaking with, but she was putting on the hard-sell, one of her gifts. “Wesley’s going to be huge,” she said. “Years from now you’re going to boast about being in his first film.” She turned and met Piper’s gaze, an impish smile brightening her expression. “Of course, I’m being serious. I was looking forward to it, Kira. If I could possibly do it I would, but he’s got to have it finished by November, so he can shop it around to film festivals.” She made her hand into a fist and pumped it up and down, her victorious smile making Piper laugh. “Call me to rave about how much you love him. ’Kay. Bye,” she said, then clicked the phone off. “Mission accomplished. Wesley has been hooked up with a very good actor, and I can stop feeling guilty about ghosting him.”

  Piper leaned over and rested her chin on Charlie’s shoulder, staying put until Charlie laughed and pushed her away.

  “I’m proud of you. Following through on your promises is the kind of thing that make you a success—as a person.”

  Still chuckling, Charlie said, “That might be, but being a nice person buys you nothing in Hollywood.”

  “Doesn’t matter. You’re going to be a person much longer than you’re going to be famous.”

  Her smile was utterly charming, and just a tiny bit smug. “Not if I have anything to say about it. When I die, I want to break the internet, or whatever people are using to get information ninety years from now. I want people to tell their grandchildren about the first time they saw me on screen. I want fans to visit my grave and weep—”

  Piper reached over and pinched her lips together, laughing when Charlie kept trying to talk. It must have been wonderful to be filled with nothing but optimism—especially in a town where the slings and arrows of celebrity were always aimed at you.

  A half hour later, they were in the air. Charlie had her headphones on, bouncing slightly to the bass pounding in her head. Piper had been lecturing her about lowering the volume ever since her little sister had discovered music, but her warnings had been completely ignored. With any luck, they’d discover a cure for hearing loss by the time it affected her.

  Piper sipped at her guava juice, not sure she liked it. It had seemed the most Hawaiian non-alcoholic thing on the drinks menu, but it wasn’t helping to get her into the tropical mood. They’d been in the air for just a few minutes, and Charlie already had her seat all the way back, probably close to falling asleep, but Piper was way, way too stressed to even think of closing her eyes. While Charlie maintained she had full confidence in Piper’s skills, that confidence was misplaced. Piper didn’t have any damn idea what she was doing. Her sister needed a real manager, someone who knew the ins and the outs of the game to help her navigate these waters.

  At this point, she was at the top of Charlie’s team, a place she hadn’t earned. That top spot should probably have gone to Charlie’s business manager, the guy who invested her money and advised her on expenses. She’d been with him for ten years, and he truly seemed like an upstanding guy. A young actress who’d been robbed blind gave Charlie a tip when she was still in her teens, and since that time, Piper had arranged for an independent accounting firm to audit her finances every year. If her business manager was a cheat, he was a true genius.

  But as a final check, Piper had forced Charlie to pay her own bills. It was a pain, and she didn’t always keep current, but she would have seen anything fishy long before it got out of hand. As spacey as Charlie sometimes seemed, she was canny when it came to money. Well, maybe not canny, but she was sharp. She might have wasted money on things, but she never spent a lot without talking it over with her business manager, and the guy loved to say no. Actually, he didn’t do that often. His tactic was to tell Charlie how much she had to earn to pay for something. Piper still recalled Charlie’s shock when she’d wanted to buy a $60,000 luxury car. He’d shown her, in black and white, that after taxes and fees to her management, she’d have to earn $120,000 to pay for it, making her change her mind in an instant, agreeing with him that an inexpensive hybrid was better for her wallet and her image.

  But even with a good agent, a good business manager, and a sharp lawyer, a zillion tasks remained for Piper, nearly all of them novel.

  Eden 2.0 was a studio picture—a rarity now. Only blockbusters with tons of special effects, big budgets and huge international box office potential fit into studio plans in the twenty-first century.

  Piper was very glad to have the movie positioned as a ten
t-pole, a potential big money-maker that would have plenty of tie-ins—from food to apparel to toys. That allowed her access to the well-established studio machine for assistance. The studio had made all of the travel arrangements, mostly so they could show Charlie off to the right people at the right time, but the motivation was immaterial. It was a big headache off Piper’s plate. But once they were settled in their hotel, she had a feeling the support would disappear, leaving her to run interference. She’d figure it out. They hadn’t gotten this far just by luck and happenstance. Still, it scared the crap out of her.

  Turning her head when Charlie moved, Piper took a long look at her sister, now sound asleep, lying on her side, with her knees drawn up as far as she could get them. She had the ability to sleep nearly anywhere, able to catch a nap when she couldn’t possibly have been tired. That seemingly insignificant trait was one of many that would make her a star. Looks, personality, determination, boundless self-confidence, an imperviousness to slights, and the unique ability to catch sleep whenever she was idle, gave her a leg up. She was a genetic freak, and that unique aggregation of qualities was going to make her a boat-load of dough. Piper merely had to play her role, smoothing the path until they found a pro to take over.

  ***

  When three muscular guys showed up at the warehouse to transport the birds to “Eden,” Haley almost hugged and kissed them. It had only been two weeks, but she’d had to satisfy her usual need for human contact by chatting with the reception clerks, the wait staff in the restaurant, and the poor women who delivered room service. They were all unfailingly polite, but she was pretty sure they flipped a coin, with the loser having to go to the room where the guest yakked your leg off.

  The movers were a little brusque, having to get all of her cages into vans while trying to hear each other over the squawking. There wasn’t room for her, so she got to bend a cabbie’s ear on the way to the dock. When she arrived, the guys were busily loading her precious birds onto a big, flat-bottomed ferry. She walked up the gangway, with her duffle bags slung over her shoulders, to see that most of the seats had been removed. This was clearly a ferry for cargo, not people, but she stowed her stuff and went back to help supervise, a task she was clearly not needed for.