Life was actually pretty good.
After parking the golf cart outside Gemstone’s executive building, I craned my neck to take in the towering facade that housed the studio’s elite. The blackened windows of the twenty-five story building added to its intimidating grandeur, and its sharpened pinnacle was the final touch of elegance.
Even the foyer was impressive with its high-vaulted ceiling and five star decor. The last time I’d been in anything as grand as this was that time I’d toured the White House.
Which explained why Natalie had zoomed past this place during my orientation, pointing out we weren’t allowed entry on account of it housing the hierarchy. Only in an emergency were we permitted to enter this bastion of power.
And yet here I was standing in the grand foyer.
I removed the post-it note that Adam had given me from my pocket and re-read it. “Top floor.”
The idea of stepping into an elevator after seeing the other one flooded gave me chills. I considered the stairwell.
“Neoclassicism,” a voice with a Jamaican lilt called to me. It came from the lone security guard standing behind a long reception desk.
“Sorry?” I said, amazed how my voice carried.
“What you’re looking at is neoclassicism.” He gestured to the grandness. “Inspired by history’s classical culture and art.”
“Oh,” I said, taking in the elegant simplicity of the symmetric design and admiring the shiny marble flooring that I was nervous to walk on. Towering arches loomed large around me.
“Apparently,” the guard went on, seemingly well versed on the subject, “it’s meant to reflect restraint.”
“A billionaire’s restraint.”
He gave a smile. “Top floor.”
“Who am I meeting with?” I lowered my chin. “Remind me again.”
“The top brass.”
“Huh?”
“God.” He pointed upwards and then leaned his finger toward the elevator. “And that’s how you get to him.”
My mouth felt dry and I swallowed hard.
I was meant to be inside a limo by now, heading for the event of the year, being a princess for the day, beautified and lovelyfied, (was that even a word?) but I was still wearing scrubs and my day seemed far from over.
I still had to find a pillow to cry into.
And there was a tub of chocolate chip mint ice-cream with my name on it, and I could swear I could hear it calling me.
The medical kit slid from my grasp and landed on the marble floor. I offered the guard an apologetic look.
“Don’t keep him waiting,” he said, leaving his station behind the reception desk. He picked up my kit with ease and guided me to the lift. He nudged me inside the elevator and then leaned around the corner, sliding what looked like a credit card into the front panel. “You won’t get anywhere without this.”
“Who am I meeting with?” I tried again.
“Gemstone’s founder, chairman, and CEO. Don’t worry. He’s very nice. Very friendly.” He screwed up his nose. “His son’s a bit of a one though.” He stepped out. “Don’t tell him I told you so.”
The doors slid closed.
Ascending smoothly, I tried to fathom why Gemstone’s CEO would even know about me and would personally summon me to his office. Maybe I really was in trouble.
The elevator stopped and the doors slid open, revealing a long, dimly lit corridor with plush, blue carpet spreading out before me. The place seemed deserted.
Reverently, I stepped out onto the carpet and it felt as lush underfoot as it looked. After readjusting the kit on my shoulder, I began down the hall. Lining each wall were numerous black and white photographs of old Hollywood.
I paused to admire a young Gary Cooper posing casually with two other men. Cooper had one eyebrow raised, staring back at me in that emotionally restrained yet elegantly understated way he was famous for.
The photo hanging next to Cooper’s was taken of a 1950’s Marlene Dietrich, a German-American actress whose haunting beauty and elegant demeanor had captured Hollywood’s imagination. Parlayed into an obsession, apparently, or so I’d read in my mom’s coffee table book. She was certainly bewitching the two men standing on either side of her. The same two men from the first photo. As I continued to study the face of the man on Dietrich’s right, I noticed something familiar in those kind eyes, strong jaw, and tall, slim frame.
“Hello Piper,” Arthur said, lingering at the end of the corridor.
“Oh, hello.” I hesitated then my gaze slid back to the photo.
It was Arthur, his image captured perfectly in the frame, only a much younger version.
“Was it you that asked me to come here?” I said.
“Yes.”
“Are you all right?”
“Never better.”
I pointed to the photo.
“Not that I’m one for cliché’s, but those really were the days,” he said.
“You’re not the caretaker, are you?”
“Semantics.”
I felt breathless with the realization.
He seemed to be waiting for me to say it.
“You’re Gemstone’s CEO? It’s just that I sat and had tea with you that time on the bench. You offered me some of your pastry. Not that I wasn’t tempted. I’m rather partial to pastries. And then at Gem’s Cafe.”
His eyes crinkled at the corners from a smile. “I enjoy our visits. That first day you were starting your new job and had enough to think about. Besides, people are more natural around me when they have no idea who I am.”
“Very impressive foyer, by the way.”
“That other man in the photo. That was my business partner, Jacob Fleisher. He died several years ago. Jacob had it in his head that if Gemstone’s main offices were the grandest in Hollywood, we’d get offered the best scripts and the finest actors.”
I followed Arthur into the softly lit office. Placing the kit down, I rested it carefully against one of the armchairs.
Arthur continued, “Jacob also wanted to intimidate the junior executives who thought they knew it all.”
“Bet it worked.” I looked around, assuming this was Arthur’s office.
“It was never my philosophy.”
I suddenly realized. “Does Sarah know who you are?”
“She does,” he said.”She’s dating my son.”
“Oh.” I did my best to keep my expression as blank as possible, avoiding the urge to scrunch up my nose and share my condolences.
Arthur let out a deep sigh and I felt for him, remembering how she’d spoken to him that first day I’d met her.
Arthur’s office was decorated modestly. At the center rested a large carved desk atop which lay a flat screen computer, and to the side of that lay an empty in-tray stacked high with what looked like scripts.
There was only one thing out of place here, and that was the headless manikin in the corner, dressed in an elegant long, red gown, the kind you see glamorous starlets wearing. Still, it went with all the other memorabilia, such as the antique looking phone, the silver framed photo of Arthur with President Kennedy at some posh fundraiser, and on the shelf on the far wall were a line of Oscars.
My thoughts drifted; I imagined Jamie was halfway to the Dolby Theatre by now.
The view from up here was something else, encompassing not only the entire lot but also much of L.A., and there, off in the distance, was the Hollywood sign.
“Ooh,” I let it out before I could stop myself.
“Never get tired of the view,” Arthur said.
“Did you hear about the accident in the Baybridge building?”
He lowered his gaze. “I’ve wanted to restore that old building for years. Always had resistance from our shareholders. I’m sorry people were at risk. It was unnecessary.”
“Is that why you called me here. To talk about what happened?”
“Not exactly. Though it does have something to do with it.”
“Everyone got out
safely.”
“Thank goodness.” He looked thoughtful. “You were observed wearing a ball gown when you responded?”
“My shift was over.”
“You never mentioned you’d been invited to the Oscars.”
“It didn’t look like it was going to happen for me.” I chewed my lip, realizing it still wasn’t. “My friend Adam came to the rescue and made a dress for me. Only...well there wasn’t time to change into my scrubs. As soon as I heard there were people trapped I had to act.”
“What happened to your other dress?”
“How did you know about that?”
“I don’t actually spend much time in this ivory tower.” Arthur’s gaze found the window and he focused on something across the lot. His attention fell back on me. “So you like Jamie Hale, then?”
“He’s been very kind.” I tried to read Arthur’s expression, but if he knew something about Jamie he wasn’t showing it.
Arthur seemed to detect my reticence. “I’ve only ever heard good things about him.” He moved closer. “I noticed your eyes light up.” His gaze settled on the manikin. “Stunning isn’t it?”
“It’s the most beautiful gown I’ve ever seen,” I said, my eyes widening in wonder.
“Well that’s a relief. You’re wearing it tonight to the Oscars.”
“That dress?” I screeched.
“I thought you liked it?”
“But it must be worth…a lot.” The air seemed thinner up here in the highest tower, or maybe it was just that time had slowed. “Am I allowed?”
Arthur laughed. “Yes, Piper, you’re allowed.”
“But I haven’t got my Spanx.”
There came a tut-tut from the doorway.
A woman stood there, and she radiated a natural beauty, making her age difficult to gauge. Sixty perhaps? Something about her made her look French. I think it was the way she blew an elegant kiss at Arthur, or perhaps it was her confident flair that foreigners exude. She was dressed in black slacks and a purple cashmere sweater, and her gold bauble necklace caught the light.
“Hello, Piper,” she said huskily and beamed a smile my way. “The woman that wore that dress was considered a bombshell. And Piper,” her huskiness was hypnotizing, “you’re her size. The dress will fit you perfectly. No Spanx required.” She seemed to find it amusing and peered over at Arthur, raising her hand. “Don’t ask.”
“Now I am intrigued,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.
“In our day, we kept such things secret,” she said. “A touch of mystery ensured men came back for more. Time and time again.”
“Now you tell me.” Arthur winked my way.
She turned her laser sharp stare back on me.
Nervousness must have made my smile crooked, but her words were reassuring nonetheless. All I had to do was believe in them.
“Piper, this is Lilly,” Arthur said. “A dear friend who has a talent for makeup and hair.” Arthur gestured to the line of Oscars. “And to prove it she has quite a collection of those herself.”
“You flatter me,” Lilly said. “When I won those it was always because you presented me with the best canvas.” She looked back at me, narrowing her stare. “This is going to be easy.”
“I appreciate you being here,” Arthur said.
She gave a soft smile. The kind that spoke volumes of what might have passed between them. It seemed the kind of friendship born from years of shared experiences, out of which came what only such longevity can provide, a deep love and respect.
“You’re the best there is,” Arthur said unabashedly to Lilly.
“Proof is in the pudding.” She gestured to the high-backed chair. “Piper, are you ready to let your inner goddess shine?”
CHAPTER 21
Resident Hero
Stage: Dark
“Your inner goddess shine.”
Lilly’s words lingered, touching some part of me that had lain dormant, merely waiting to be awakened. It felt as though such a rite of passage could only be guided by another woman.
She took her time applying my makeup and then moved onto my hair, primping each lock with infinite patience. Next, she’d assisted me into the long, red gown, and just as she’d promised the elegant dress fit perfectly and felt amazing against my skin. With Lilly’s assistance, I slipped into the high heeled shoes.
“Ready?” She gestured to the mirror behind me.
I turned.
Peering back at me was my reflection, yet...
The red satin gown swept elegantly along my chest and low over each shoulder, effortlessly flowing over my hips, accentuating my figure. A real woman’s figure. Holding my breath, I tried to fathom my transformation.
Whoever this woman was staring back, I barely recognized her. My complexion was flawless. My eyes seemed larger, widened with masterful strokes, and my lashes were lengthened with the blackest mascara. My eyelids were enhanced with dramatic shadowing, bestowing an exotic shimmering effect. My lips were plumped with bright red lipstick. Sensual dark locks were curled perfectly, cascading over my shoulders and down my back in a flurry of gorgeousness.
I looked like I’d just stepped out of a classic black and white film. One where the actress passes for an otherworldly being, mystical even.
To think I’d attempted doing my own hair and makeup earlier. There was no doubt what Lilly had accomplished was considered an art form. She’d transformed me into a diva. For the first time in my life I was seeing the reflection of the woman I’d become, stealing a glimpse of my potential that had alluded me until now. The gown accentuated my curves elegantly and only now did I realize the allure of sexual confidence shining from the inside out.
“Same look,” Lilly said, her eyes twinkling with delight. “You have the same look Rita Hayworth had when I did her makeup for the first time.”
“Rita Hayworth,” I whispered.
“Yes, you remind me of her,” Lilly said. “She had no idea how beautiful she was either.” She handed me a small Swarovski crystal purse.
“Thank you so much,” I said, trying to suppress a sob, clutching it reverently.
“No tears,” Lilly said. “Or you’ll smudge.”
“I promise.” I turned and threw my arms around her.
She laughed and hugged me back. “It’s my pleasure, dear.”
Arthur opened the door and his eyes lit up from a smile when he saw me. “Bravo. Bravo.”
“All about the canvas,” Lilly said modestly.
“You have a visitor.” Arthur gestured.
Jamie appeared in the doorway, and when his gaze settled on me it narrowed. “Piper?” His expression was incredulous. “Piper, you look... stunning!”
Having never had a man react in that way before, I found it fascinating. “You look pretty amazing yourself,” I said, my cheeks blushing.
“Have a fabulous time,” Lilly said, opening her hands. “How can you not?”
“Now we know where knock ‘em dead comes from,” Arthur said. “Enjoy every second.”
I took my time to show my thanks, holding Lilly’s gaze and then Arthur’s. “Thank you so much.”
Arthur stepped toward me. “We so often fail to tell people how important they are to the world...to us...” He waved off the rest of the words.
Jamie offered me his hand. “Your carriage awaits. Well, limo.” He seemed taken aback.
As my fingers tightened around his, a wave of excitement welled in my chest and it made my lips tremble. My heart skipped a beat. At the doorway, I turned once more to offer a look of gratitude to Arthur and Lilly, who were smiling back at me.
Sashaying down the corridor toward the elevator, I once again admired each black and white photo, feeling like I’d stepped out of one of them. Jamie had gone quiet. Though occasionally he glanced at me with a boyish smile. I let out the deepest sigh, trying to wrap my head around this dreamy experience.
Jamie paused to face me and took my hands in his. “You take my breath away.”
“I’m proud to show you off.” He lifted his chin slightly toward one of the photo frames behind me.
Turning, my gaze fell upon the black and white photo--
Of Hollywood legend Marilyn Monroe, the photo taken in her twenties. She was throwing her head back and laughing. Her timeless illuminating beauty brightened the room. Her radiating smile reached out beyond the frame.
This was the starlet who’d captured the world’s imagination and redefined beauty, famous for her ability to captivate, her sweetness, her curves. I held my breath, recognizing her long, red, satin dress.
The exact same dress I was wearing.
CHAPTER 22
Resident Hero
Stages: Dark
Gemstone’s iconic front archway crowned high above our black limousine.
Our chauffer navigated the car beneath it, turning smoothly onto Melrose.
“Veuve Clicquot?” Jamie, sitting to my left, offered a crystal flute filled with golden bubbles.
With a shake of my head I declined, nervous I might spill it on my dress.
Marilyn’s dress.
It wasn’t only that I felt truly beautiful for the first time in my life, making these unfolding moments surreal, it was also dawning on me I was wearing the dress of a legend. Marilyn had been famous for her natural beauty, and that was exactly how I felt, feminine, elegant, and by the way Jamie was staring at me, striking.
As we turned onto Hollywood and Highland, my stomach did a flip and my hands balled into fists of excitement. I quickly relaxed them again.
If it wasn’t for Jamie sitting opposite, I might very well have kicked off my heels and gyrated to the music bursting out of the speakers, allowing my inner Piper to surface, but Jamie’s burning intensity and smoldering seriousness smothered my desire to go crazy. Instead, I sat demurely, taking everything in.
“Oh. My. God,” I mouthed, half in a daydream, glancing at Jamie to make sure he didn’t notice.
His focus was drawn to the passing scenery. Perhaps, I reasoned, he was also nervous about walking the red carpet.
Piper Day's Ultimate Guide To Avoiding George Clooney Page 18
