HDU

by India Lee

  Liam shook his head as he closed the door behind him. Only then did she notice the large black shopping bag in his hand. “I’m going to ignore the fact that you’re already being annoying so I can give you this present without regrets,” he said. Amanda stayed frozen in place, a little too jolted to move. It was a Barney’s bag. She’d heard of the place. Liam glanced up at her. “Do you need me to take it out or can you move on your own?”

  “I can move on my own,” Amanda said.

  Despite her answer, Liam reached into the bag and pulled out a shawl-collared jacket in an elegant sand color. It was long, a basket-weave cashmere knit with large pockets at the hip. He tossed it towards her and she caught it, luxuriating in the feel of the plush material. She loved the jacket immediately, but her tongue refused to express it.

  “Why?” she asked suspiciously.

  “Why what?” Liam asked, though from his needled look, he knew exactly what she meant. “Because I appreciate your work thus far, and so you don’t have to wear the dirty thing you wore to Lilac. Does that work for you?”

  “It’s not dirty, it’s just old,” Amanda said, gazing at her shearling coat draped over the couch. It had been a Christmas gift four years ago, maybe five. “Well. I’ve washed it a hundred times, so if it it’s dirty it can’t be helped.” Why am I even talking about this? Amanda shook her head hastily, clearing her thoughts. “But thank you,” she finally said, a little bit begrudging. “For this. It’s beautiful.”

  Liam smiled, already laughing before his own joke. “Just like you.”

  “Okay, shut up and never talk again.”

  While the ribbing continued throughout the elevator ride downstairs, Liam and Amanda quieted once they reached the hotel lobby. A wall of photographers was positioned outside, their flashes already going off through the large, rectangular windows.

  “Oh, boy,” Amanda squeaked before hastily smoothing down her hair. Liam snorted at her nervousness but upon stepping out the doors, adopted the role of protector by holding her hand and walking in front of her to block the flashes. It was an act, but an act that Amanda was thankful for. She needed a little more time and practice with her makeup brush before feeling totally ready for such attention. The photographers groaned at Liam, but he laughed affably with them.

  “You’d do the same for your girl,” he said, perhaps playing to the gentlemanly side they all wished they had. He distracted them some more by making them laugh, teasing a paparazzo for wearing his baseball cap backwards, taking it upon himself to pluck it off his head and place it back on facing front. When the paparazzo asked for a few style tips, Liam obliged with a couple answers. Only then did Amanda realize that his charm was actually underrated because it apparently worked on men too. They kept a respectful distance with him that they hadn’t with her the day before with Ian.

  Though once they were both safely in the car, the paparazzi crowded again, this time around the tinted backseat window. “Can they see through with those flashes?” Amanda asked, peering out at the swarm of lenses. Liam provided the answer by draping his arm around her shoulder and pulling her closer. “I’ll take that as a yes,” she said quietly, the cameras reminding her to look peaceful and happy in his arms. She also remembered to cross her ankles and adjust the hem of her skirt. Liam watched as she did.

  “I like that dress,” he said.

  “They can’t hear through the window.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Thanks, I know.”

  Through his aggravation, it took a second for Amanda to realize that she had just been complimented. It was too late to say anything, but the praise at least carried her a bit when they arrived for the party at The Strathorne in TriBeCa. She would need every bit of confidence that she could muster. Judging by the crowd of cameras and fans outside, it was going to be a star-studded night.

  “Don’t be nervous,” Liam said.

  Amanda let go of a deep breath. “Thanks.”

  “I’m not trying to comfort you, I’m asking you not to get nervous and do that ugly laugh.” Amanda smacked him as he got out of the car.

  “You’re going to make this worse,” she hissed at his grinning face, forcing herself to drop her hands from her stomach where they had been clasped to contain her nerves. It still twisted and turned, but she tried not to show it as the camera flashes started again. Just walk. Be normal. Pretend it’s any other party, she told herself as they made their way to the building’s entrance. Liam put his hand on her back, rubbing it just slightly to put her at ease. She felt her stiff posture actually relaxing at his touch.

  “Just smile and agree with things,” he said. “They’re not going to ask too much of you.”

  “Okay. Got it,” Amanda nodded.

  But once she stepped into the hotel, her heart began to pound again. The swanky space was flooded with hordes of people so beautiful it almost hurt her eyes, each person better dressed and groomed than the next. Amanda touched her new coat as Liam removed it for her, trying to remind herself that she didn’t look too shabby, though the effort was in vain especially upon noticing the glowing stars on the indoor red carpet. So many were familiar faces that she recognized – from movies, television, and HDU. One standing before the June Magazine backdrop was Harper Gunn, the Manhattan socialite who had gone from model-slash-party girl to New York Times best selling author for her books on raw dieting and detox. She boasted a neat, blonde topknot and impossibly pearly skin.

  And then there was Dylan Hardy.

  Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, please help me, Amanda prayed, feeling her knees giving out. She had loved Dylan for longer than Megan had loved Liam. He was everything Liam wasn’t – an Oscar nominated actor, a likable Hollywood darling, a down-to-earth gentleman known for genuinely loving his fans and taking the subways in New York. He was just inexplicably devoid of ego, as if completely unaware of his looks or accomplishments. And of course there was his buttery voice, that baritone English accent for which Amanda had dedicated a whole YouTube playlist, comprised mostly of his most charming interviews.

  “Listen, you can do the ugly laugh,” Liam said. “If you stop making the face you’re making right now.”

  Amanda snapped out of her Dylan-induced trance and stared up at Liam, having forgotten for a minute that he existed. She wished that he were Ian instead. Ian had long known of her love for Dylan Hardy, and she was in desperate need of someone to be excited with. But all Amanda had was Liam, and from the impatient way he looked at her, she suspected he wouldn’t be receptive to a fangirl rant.

  “Sorry,” was all she said, not bothering to explain anything as they headed over to the red carpet, to the buzz of media waiting to devour them with their cameras. Amanda hardly even noticed the microphones and flashes though. All she had was Dylan Hardy on the mind. They were getting closer and closer to him and for that reason she had to concentrate on her breathing, or rather just remind herself to do it. When they settled on a spot just a few yards from Dylan, Amanda squeezed Liam’s hand tight, beyond giddy. Not knowing her reasons, he squeezed hers back.

  “Really, don’t be nervous,” he repeated as they stood before the backdrop, his words soft this time and sounding like a real attempt at comfort. “You’ll be fine.”

  “Okay.” Amanda pried her eyes off of Dylan. She had memorized his look with one glance anyway. He was wearing a very simple one-button suit in black and seemed to be emitting some sort of glow. His wavy dark blonde hair was styled for once, giving him a charming old Hollywood type of vibe. All Amanda wanted to do was look at him, to just see herself standing a yard away from him. But instead she looked into the crowd of cameras and tried to remember how to smile naturally. Liam held her tight, as if sensing that she wanted to move or go or do something else.

  “Miss Nathan!” a few photographers called. “Over here!”

  They knew her name. Photographers were requesting her attention on a red carpet full of stars, but she couldn’t even absorb any of it because she was still completely
taken by Dylan Hardy.

  “Hey, you’re okay. Stop shaking,” Liam laughed, giving her a brief kiss on the side of the head. It got her attention. She looked up to see him looking down at her, his smile full of amusement. “Jesus Christ, Amanda, I didn’t think it’d be this bad,” he said quietly.

  “Sorry,” she breathed. She focused and gathered herself enough to give one or two decently normal poses. By the time their photo session was over, she noticed that Dylan had disappeared elsewhere. That’s probably for the better, she thought as Liam led her into the main room and straight to the bar. He ordered their drinks before cocking his head to observe Amanda and her still nerve-racked face.

  “How are you holding up? Are your vitals stable?” he asked, actually taking her wrist to feel her heartbeat. Amanda blushed, feeling her pulse pound rapidly against the pressure of his fingers. “Wow,” was all Liam said, giving a laugh of disbelief. “You’re a freak.”

  “Shut up,” Amanda said, yanking her hand away. It’s the Dylan Hardy Effect, she thought, recalling articles she’d read about how Dylan had caused several women to faint during the Berlin premiere of his last film. But not wanting to explain her massive crush to Liam, she only said, “I’ll be better next time.”

  “It’s fine. I was this nervous at my first big party,” Liam said. “Possibly worse.” Amanda cocked an eyebrow.

  “Details.”

  “Nah.”

  “Fine,” she laughed, taking a sip of her martini. She wasn’t sure if it was Liam or the alcohol that was helping her relax, but at least something was beginning to do the job. Enough so that she was even able to make small talk with a few of his friends who later approached. They, like Liam, were all statuesque and beautiful, like walking, talking museum exhibits of human perfection. It was both amazing and daunting to know that people like this really existed outside of movies and magazine pages.

  Amanda forced herself not to fidget, but her fingers itched to fix her own hair and outfit as she chatted with the perfect people. There was Liam’s best friend Connor, the lumberjack chic screenwriter who shared Liam’s intelligent and laid-back smugness. From the way he showed little interest in getting to know her, Amanda assumed Connor was well versed on the false nature of their romance, which was a little unnerving. Luckily, there was also the actor-slash-TV writer Ben, who was self-deprecating and seemingly the nicest of the three guys. He and his model girlfriend Jaime appeared actually interested in making Amanda’s acquaintance – or rather Jaime was interested, so Ben followed suit.

  “So where are you from?” he asked.

  “Oh, Merit. Merit, Missouri. It’s a really small town.”

  Jaime’s eyes widened, her archless eyebrows disappearing behind blunt bangs. “I’ve been to Missouri! On a road trip! Where’s Merit near?”

  “It’s a forty minute drive from Columbia, which is –”

  “Oh my God, that’s where Casey’s mom is from!” Jaime gasped, clasping both slender hands to her heart. “I’ll have to tell her. She’ll be so happy to meet another Missourian.”

  As Amanda asked who Casey was, she couldn’t help but notice Liam and Connor having one of those wordless conversations with their eyes, the type generally reserved for making fun of people in close distance. She wondered if they were making fun of her or Jaime, immediately assuming that being assholes, they had to be making fun of one of the girls. And between herself and Jaime, Amanda was fairly certain that she provided more material for teasing. She unconsciously gave Liam a look, which only Connor caught.

  “Your girlfriend’s mad,” he said, stressing the word “girlfriend.” Liam laughed but upon noticing Amanda’s frown, gave her a little shake of the head.

  “I’ll explain later,” he said in her ear, placing a hand on her back. Amanda nodded and suppressed her laughter. He was forcing himself to be nice for fear that she might have another meltdown like she had on the red carpet. It was thoroughly amusing and borderline sweet, though she was sure that his motive to subdue her panic was more about saving himself the embarrassment. But as a fake boyfriend, he certainly didn’t have to explain what he and Connor had been talking about, though Amanda didn’t mind the fact that he was willing to.

  The explanation came later when guests started getting seated at their assigned tables. Amanda and Liam got to theirs early, their chairs pulled close to one another so Liam could speak quietly. Amanda couldn’t help but laugh because through her peripheral vision, she saw other guests smiling and cooing over their intimacy. No one would ever guess that the words being spoken were far from sweet nothings.

  “Avoid Jaime and Casey. They’re the worst kind of people you’ll ever meet,” Liam said. Amanda laughed.

  “That seems dramatic. Jaime seems sweet,” she said.

  “I actually know her, Amanda. She and Casey are manipulative and they use people for their own entertainment.”

  She frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean they’re rich kids who grew up in Hollywood. They require living toys. Right now, Jaime’s game is seeing how far Ben will let her control his life. She already forced him to cast her in his pilot when she can’t act for shit, so I’m pretty sure the next step is neutering him so she can literally own his balls.”

  “You just sound like a bitter guy friend.”

  “No, I’m just trying to save you from being Jaime or Casey’s new plaything. They always need new ones once they’re done with the old ones.”

  “She really seemed sweet though, and she said her friend is from Missouri, or something,” Amanda protested lightly. She realized that she did have to start building her own social circle at some point. After all, her relationship with Liam had an expiration date and networking had always been a large part of her plan with Ian. “I’d be flattered if they were ever interested in hanging out with me,” Amanda shrugged. Liam made a face.

  “Trust me, you’re not like them. You’re real and natural and nice.”

  Amanda raised her eyebrows at his kind words, a slow smile spreading her lips. Liam rolled his eyes. “Don’t get too excited, you’re working with low standards here.”

  “Just let yourself be nice for once. I think you’d enjoy it.”

  “Eh.”

  With that, they turned back to the table, which Amanda noticed was now full. She scanned through the guests and returned each of their curious smiles until reaching the person seated a chair away from her. After a double take, she gasped loudly, causing even the neighboring table to jump in their seats.

  Liam impulsively grabbed her hand. “What?”

  She was unable to answer as she sat almost face-to-face with Dylan Hardy. His head cocked slightly as he looked at her with what appeared to be a concerned, polite smile. She stared back at his lake blue eyes like a deer in headlights. Oh my God, say something, say something, she berated herself.

  “I’m sorry, excuse me,” she finally uttered to the table, standing and doing some sort of girlish curtsy before dashing off for the bathroom. She could hear Liam laughing through his confusion and offering some sort of charming explanation to the table. The last thing she heard was their collective “aww” before pushing through the bathroom door.

  “Good Lord, woman,” she said to herself as she examined her reflection. At least there wasn’t a stray flake or booger in her nose. She smiled, baring her teeth at herself. No spinach either, not that she’d eaten any. Gasping in Dylan Hardy’s face certainly hadn’t been her ideal first meeting with him, but at least she looked halfway decent – meaning her hair wasn’t unraveled, her nose and teeth were clean, and she didn’t have any mascara gunk in the corner of her eye. Not great, but could’ve been worse, she reasoned.

  “Oh, you look adorable,” a feminine voice suddenly seemed to read her mind. Amanda jumped, unaware that anyone was in the bathroom with her. She turned to the doorway where the voice came from, seeing there yet another familiar face – perhaps the most familiar one thus far. She gasped, covering her mouth.

>   “Oh my God, hi,” Amanda breathed, immediately laughing sheepishly at her own awe. Standing just a couple feet away from her was Casey Mulreed, a wildly talented actress whom she had been watching since the age of twelve – when Casey herself was just fourteen. She came from a family of Hollywood royalty and nabbed her first Oscar nomination at the young age of sixteen. Now at twenty-four, her career was already en route to becoming legendary.

  “Hi, I’m such a creeper,” Casey giggled, holding her hand out for Amanda to shake. “My friend Jaime said that Liam brought a Missourian and I just had to introduce myself.”

  “So you followed me into the bathroom?” Amanda giggled.

  “Shamelessly too. I’m so embarrassing,” she drawled, shaking her head. Amanda laughed, giddy as well as amused by the idea of Casey Mulreed being any kind of embarrassing. Aside from one or two box office flops, she hadn’t made any missteps in her ten-year career. Her script selections were impeccable and her public image was spotless, hailed for being low-key and unaffected by Hollywood life. Even HDU members had nothing bad to say about her, the worst insult they could come up with being “so perfect it’s boring.” To top it all off, her enchanting but modest style selections made her a pixie-like fashion icon. Simply being in the same room as Casey made Amanda feel elevated somehow.

  “So how are you liking New York from Missouri?” Casey asked, brushing a short lock of wavy blonde hair from her face. She perched her petite body against the marble sink of the restroom, indicating that she was content with the location for their chat.

  “Oh God, well, it’s been… the coolest and scariest thing of my life,” Amanda answered, still wearing a big, cheesy grin. “I mean, I love Merit for being the place I grew up, but I think I needed a change after twenty-two years.”

  Casey nodded gravely, her pointy face suddenly devoid of expression. “Yeah, I think I made that decision too early on in my life, but I can’t have regrets about it now. But I always feel like a part of me is still there.”

  Amanda shook her head and squinted, swept with confusion. “You grew up in Missouri?” she asked. Casey’s father, aunt and grandfather were all famous for a number of things – being actors, writers, directors and unfortunately, substance abusers – but they were most famously New Yorkers. They were longtime owners of a large TriBeCa production company, two of the city’s hottest restaurants, and Knicks and Yankees tickets so good that the teams’ players called them friends. Being a Mulreed, Casey had naturally inherited the public image of a lifelong New Yorker.