Fame

by Susan X Meagher

  Piper cleared off the white board, not wanting anyone else to see the list. As she rubbed the eraser over her words, she mused about how she’d handle managing Charlie if she were to really throw herself into the game and dedicate herself to it. While she wouldn’t want to emulate Meredith in every way, she could do worse than to try and adopt her thoughtful, detached demeanor. Of all of the people in the meeting that day, everyone had looked to Meredith, even though she was almost a bystander. Her natural leadership skills were clearly worth acquiring.

  Piper set the eraser down and organized her papers. For just a minute, she let herself savor the image of herself in a well-fitted business suit, compelling a room full of Hollywood bigwigs to hang on her every word. Then the air went out of that fantasy as quickly as it had formed. The only big wigs in her future were attached to women’s heads.

  ***

  For the rest of the afternoon, Piper stayed in the production office, making calls, conferring with Tim by walkie-talkie, and repeatedly talking to Charlie’s attorney. She wasn’t sure who was working on Charlie’s hair, but she was confident one of the other stylists was ably standing in for her.

  It was dinner time when the door opened and Haley stood there. “Want me to bring you something to eat?” she asked, looking a little tentative.

  Piper’s phone rang again and she rolled her eyes as she picked it up. She’d been taking notes all day, and she flipped back a few pages on the pad she’d been using to say, “Yes, Jeffrey, I’m certain Charlie was fifteen when it happened. She thinks the boy was fourteen. Uh-huh. She was the owner of the photo. Adam took it with her phone, and later stole it from her computer without her knowledge.”

  Putting her hand over the speaker, she said, “I’d love something to eat. I’m going to be here a while.”

  Haley nodded, then left, with Piper watching her quietly shut the door, wishing she’d been able to follow right alongside her.

  ***

  It was after ten when Piper shuffled into the nearly empty dining hall, letting out a sigh when she found her people—and dog.

  “I wasn’t sure where you’d be,” she said, taking the seat next to Charlie, “so I decided to start where I knew they had liquor.”

  “None for us,” Charlie said, pulling Delta onto her lap, then holding his head and shaking it gently. She picked up a glass and held it under Piper’s nose. “I was too full from my chocolate malt.”

  “So I had two,” Haley said, smiling as she clinked one empty beer bottle against a full one.

  “Are we going back to the hotel?” Piper asked.

  “I don’t know about you, but after that malt, I’m pretty sure I couldn’t swim that far,” Charlie said.

  “The helicopter’s in Oahu for the night, “ Haley said. “So I got you set up with cabins.”

  “Lifesaver,” Piper said, finally starting to relax. “I’m ready for bed. Anyone else?”

  “It’s still early,” Charlie complained. “Since we don’t have to get up in the middle of the night, we can stay up for a while.”

  “Not me. This was the longest day ever,” Piper declared. “And tomorrow’s going to be worse.”

  Charlie put her arm around Piper’s shoulders. “Where have you left things?” That was so like Charlie. She might be facing weeks of being torn apart in the media, but she’d obviously almost forgotten about it. Her usually carefree perspective hadn’t been even slightly diminished.

  “Big meeting tomorrow with people who can actually make decisions.” She stuck her tongue out, trying to make an awful-looking face. “No more Ilsa London, whom I hope I never have to work with again. She would not budge from her position, even when it was clear no one was going to do what she wanted.”

  “So, it was just the two of you all afternoon?”

  “Meredith stayed for a while, so it was three of us at first. Then two of us when I sent Ilsa back to Honolulu.”

  “She did what you told her to?” Haley asked, eyes wide.

  “She knew I wasn’t going to change my mind, so she must have realized she was wasting her breath.”

  “She didn’t know who she was dealing with,” Charlie said, tucking an arm around Piper’s shoulders to pull her close for a kiss. “You don’t mess with Piper Campbell.”

  “Felt good,” Piper said, smiling contentedly. “After Meredith and I chatted for a while, Tim said he’d let me run with it, which was kind of amazing given what’s at stake. He won’t give in to extortion, but other than that, he’s stepping away.”

  “How was that?” Haley asked. “Working with Meredith, I mean.”

  “Yeah, Pip,” Charlie said, a teasing grin covering her face. “How was that?”

  “It was fine,” she said. “Actually, it was good. When she’s focused on business, she’s great to work with. I don’t think I’ll ever be as driven as she is, but…” She thought for a second. “There are definitely parts of her I’d like to emulate.”

  Glumly, Haley said, “You’ll get your chance. This kind of thing is going to happen all of the time.”

  “I don’t sext!” Charlie held her hand up like she was taking an oath. “I swear it!”

  “Not exactly like this, but things that need someone to jump on them immediately, to negotiate, to run interference.” Haley gave Piper a long, sober look. “I predict your days of cutting hair in Woodland Hills are officially at an end.”

  “Squee!” Charlie said, hopping up and down upon the seat like a kid. “Hope so!”

  “We’ve been over this, Charlie,” Piper said, giving both her sister and Haley a pointed look. “I’m perfectly content to cut hair.” She stood and stretched, stiff from sitting so much. “Every job has its downsides. My feet hurt when I cut hair all day, but tonight my butt hurts from sitting. It’s always something.”

  ***

  Early the next morning, Piper sat in the dining hall, trying to wake up by drinking as much coffee as she could get down at that hour.

  “I want to be in this meeting,” Charlie pouted. “I can’t believe Tim is sticking to the schedule.”

  “He can’t let a half-baked threat cost the studio tens of thousands of dollars,” Piper soothed. “We’ll handle it.”

  “Without giving in,” Charlie said, her brow furrowing.

  “It won’t come to that. We might be able to spin something. Meredith insists a good PR person can nudge the news coverage to make you the victim. Apparently, she has experience in doing that.”

  “She sure as hell does,” Charlie said, putting her hand over her mouth to dampen a laugh. Quietly, she said, “Her ex-husband and Tim’s ex-wife both look like pathetic losers, while everybody thinks she and Tim walk on water. She had to orchestrate that.”

  “Must have,” Haley agreed, also speaking quietly so the other diners couldn’t hear. “You don’t go from home-wrecker to the poster child for women’s rights without some real PR talent behind you.”

  “Well, someone from the PR firm she likes is coming to the meeting, so we’ll see.”

  “Who’s doing your hair, Charlie?” Haley asked.

  “Someone,” she said blithely. “It’ll get done.” She reached across the table and patted Piper’s cheek. “There are four people who can competently make me look like a woman who doesn’t have access to a comb, but only one Piper. She’s going to fix this for me,” she said, her confident smile making Piper almost tear up.

  The faint thrum of a helicopter in the distance made Piper stand, the butterflies in her stomach intensifying. “That’s my cue,” she said, “wish me luck.”

  ***

  Haley finished her breakfast with some of the drivers, guys who didn’t have much to do until actors needed to be ferried back and forth to the shooting location. Delta was entertaining them, doing the tricks she’d taught him over the previous weeks. He was a smart little guy, often surprising her with how quickly he picked things up.

  The guys got up to report for their call, and she noticed that Piper had left her notep
ad on the bench. Even though she wasn’t sure she’d need it, Haley picked it up and walked over to the production office, holding Delta under her arm.

  Right near the entrance, four women sat at desks, answering phones and working on their computers. Near the back of the building, a conference room had been created, with glass panels that could be covered with privacy shades.

  Zandra must have brought her a change of clothes, since Piper now stood in the doorway to that room, dressed in a light blue check shirt, a pair of navy slacks, and her favorite black leather sneakers. Haley hadn’t seen her in long pants since she’d been on the island, and found it a little disconcerting. But even more unsettling was the fact that the president of the studio was shaking her hand and introducing himself like she was in charge—of everything. Haley kept up with Variety and The Hollywood Reporter, so she recognized him, but she didn’t know the three other people who waited, eagerly, to meet Piper.

  Just then, Piper looked up and met Haley’s eyes. Her head tilted slightly as Haley held up the notepad. Then she shook her head almost imperceptibly and reached for the next person in line’s hand, nodding and urging the woman into the room.

  Haley stood there, mesmerized, as the last guy entered, then Piper closed the door. She didn’t look out as she moved to the windows to lower the shades, with her crisp slacks the last image Haley had of her.

  A few bars of music lodged in her head as the thought flashed through her that she’d just witnessed Al Pacino turn into Don Corleone, as minions waited to kiss his ring. The damn theme from The Godfather would probably be stuck in her head all day—while Piper sat in that room trying to convince herself she was still a friggin’ hair stylist.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  THAT EVENING, HALEY AND DELTA waited in the dining hall, moving from table to table as sequential sets of companions finished their meals and headed out for the evening. They’d been there since six, and it was now almost eight, and she hadn’t heard a single word from Piper.

  Throughout the day, she’d been tempted to walk over to where they were shooting, but Delta always cried for Charlie’s attention when he saw her. Haley wasn’t going to be responsible for ruining a scene, so she’d stewed in her anxiety all day, unable to tell a single soul what was happening.

  People had noticed something weird was going on, though, since someone noticed, and reported on, every single thing that was even slightly out of the ordinary. Having one of the stylists meeting with the head of the studio was definitely out of the ordinary.

  When she and Delta sat down with a couple of rigging grips and a focus puller, one of the grips jumped on the topic before her butt hit the seat. “Hey, someone said a bunch of hotshots from the studio were here today. What do you think’s going on?”

  “Don’t know,” Haley said, deciding a lie was the only smart answer. “Isn’t that common?”

  “To have a bunch of suits show up? During filming?” He looked at her like he was certain she was kidding.

  “I haven’t worked on many movies,” she said, “but there were a lot of bigwigs who dropped in on the last one I worked on. And that was way out in a remote village in Romania.”

  The guy cocked his head. “Were you on that Quote The Raven cluster-fuck?”

  “I was,” she said, relieved that he didn’t know how much of a cluster-fuck the entire production had been for her.

  The guy started to tell a story about that ill-fated production. But her mind wandered, with her stomach turning sour when she thought of how Charlie must feel, having her privacy invaded in such an intimate way. It was all too similar to her own tabloid exposure, making the whole situation hit her in a way that had been giving her flashbacks. No matter how this turned out, Charlie was going to bear some bruises. Haley just hoped they didn’t run too deep.

  ***

  Piper pushed open the door to the dining room at eight, smiling when Delta wriggled out of Haley’s grasp to run, full-tilt, for her and Charlie. “Hey, little man,” she said, squatting down to pick him up. He licked frantically, panting as he got his fill.

  The various stations were closed, with only coffee, desserts, and the soft-serve ice cream machines still running. But Piper spotted Haley sitting with two trays in front of her, metal covers over the plates. She approached and kissed the top of her head before she sat next to her on the bench. “If this food isn’t for us, I’ll pay you $1,000 for it.”

  “All for you,” Haley said, removing the covers to reveal a grilled chicken sandwich and fries on one, and a healthy seared tuna salad on the other. “Guess which one is yours.”

  “You’re the best,” Piper said.

  “Piper’s the best,” Charlie said, clearly pleased. “She fought for me until I got exactly what I wanted.”

  “And that was…?”

  Piper took over after taking her first bite of the lukewarm, but still delicious, sandwich. “The studio wanted to figure out some way to satisfy the jerk, at least for a while. We were locked into three positions for the entire morning; the studio was dead-set against calling in the authorities, the PR team wanted to taunt the jerk into releasing the photo, and Charlie wanted the cops brought in.”

  “And that’s what we did,” Charlie said, stepping on the punch line. “All because of Pip.”

  Normally, Piper would have brushed the praise aside. But she really had gone to the mat over this, and was fairly bursting with pride. “Well,” she said, ordering the facts, “it took every bit of persuasiveness I had, but I finally convinced everyone that they could look like heroes if they called in the FBI. This was a federal crime, you know,” she added.

  “No, I guess I didn’t,” Haley said.

  “It was. And because of the time-sensitive nature of the threat, they reviewed the evidence in a hurry and arrested him, to much fanfare from the press, who’d been tipped off by the studio. My idea,” she added, with Charlie slapping her robustly on the back. “Now the entire internet is buzzing with sympathy for Charlie, while never actually having seen the lurid evidence. It was a win-win on every count,” she said, now able to chow down without having to talk.

  “You thought of all of that?” Haley asked, clearly impressed.

  “No, no, it was a team effort. But they wouldn’t have done it this way if I hadn’t made it clear that Charlie would post the photo if the studio gave in to the threat.”

  “I would have,” she said. “No one’s going to blackmail me. No one.”

  “Amazing,” Haley said, with her gaze traveling from Piper to Charlie. “It’s you two who are the threat.”

  “Don’t fuck with the Campbell-Summers girls,” Piper said, slapping hands with Charlie when she raised hers high above her head.

  ***

  The studio reps weren’t leaving until the next afternoon, and Tim was going to spend the morning boasting about the film, which he was clearly proud of. Because of that, no one had to work until noon, leading some enterprising souls to kick off their usual Saturday night party a couple of days early.

  Craft services carried case after case of beer out to the crowd, then big bags of chips and containers of dip large enough to lose Delta in. But no matter how much food they had, a lot of people preferred to end their evening with soft serve. There was a steady line, and as people secured their cones some of them stopped by to wave or speak.

  “Jeffrey Osborne,” a guy said on his way past, with Haley nodding and giving him a thumbs up.

  “Why’d that guy call you that?” Charlie asked.

  “He’s just being silly,” she said, blowing it off.

  But when a woman from the set design crew wandered past and said, “I vote for some Peabo Bryson,” Piper stared at Haley and said, “What the fuck?”

  Haley sighed. “I have…” She shrugged. “Kind of a reputation.”

  “For…?”

  A woman waved at Haley while sticking a cone under the soft-serve machine, calling out, “Can you do Whitney?”

  “Not well,” Haley calle
d back. “I don’t have the range.”

  When she was still speaking, a guy stopped by and waited patiently. Haley turned to him and he said, “Do you specialize in R&B? If you’re flexible, we could use some help with our Whitesnake tribute.”

  “No can do,” Haley said, holding up her hands. “If it’s not 80s or 90s soul or R&B, I’m clueless.”

  Piper stared at her as the guy left. “What in the hell…?”

  “I don’t mean to brag, but I’m pretty good at karaoke. I’ve got a following,” she added, chuckling.

  “I had no idea you could sing,” Piper said.

  “Well, it hasn’t really come up. And it’s not that I’ve got that great a voice. I just learned to sell the hell out of a song. That’s all people want,” she said, laughing again. “They want to see you stripped naked up there—metaphorically speaking,” she added, obviously realizing that was a poor choice of words given Charlie’s past couple of days.

  “Why stuff from the 80s and 90s?” Piper asked.

  “Lolita,” Haley said. She turned to Charlie and added, “My roommate. She hasn’t been doing it much lately, but when we first moved in together, she played the hell out of all of those great R&B artists.” She tapped her head. “They’re all up here. I don’t have any room left for current stuff.”

  “I want to see this,” Piper said.

  “Me too.” Charlie was on her feet, saying, “Just don’t get me involved. I’m the worst!”

  “You’re not the worst,” Piper said, even though her sister was close to tone-deaf. “But it’s probably best that you stick to back-up. Maybe you can help those guys with their Whitesnake song.”

  “I only go back to the turn of the century,” Charlie said. “Before that—everything sounds the same to me.”