The Hollywood Setup

by Isabella Louise Anderson

  “No, Chelsey, you don’t understand. I need publicity—to be talked about, loved again by the world. I need someone who’s handsome, just not too handsome, you know, because he can’t be as attractive as I am,” she laughed, fluffing her hair. Then, within seconds, she turned serious again. “I’m starring in two movies, both of which premiere dates are close together, which means if I have a man on my arm, it’s likely the press will love me again…you know, as they did in my first movie, back when I walked the red carpet with Jay Shepherd.” Hattie stood and walked to the large floor-to-wall window, her focus stared on the sun going down on L.A. “I need this, and you will help me.” She pointed her finger at me like it was my fault she was single and not in the spotlight, continuing with, “Find me someone, and I’ll pay him fifty-thousand dollars to be seen with me, then I’ll be in the spotlight once again. After all, what kind of poor bastard would refuse that offer?” she laughed, sarcastically. Seconds later, she sat down next to me, which was a surprise, and she took my hand. “Chelsey, this is your job. Please, find me a man—someone who will make me look good.” She looked down at our hands, adding, “Fifty-thousand dollars is a pretty penny.”

  “I will,” I nodded, then promised myself to work my ass off until I found her someone who she would approve of, because if I were a betting woman—which I’m not—all bets were against me.

  CHAPTER THREE

  I was grateful that I started my job yesterday—a job I’d always wanted, which was right in the limelight of the celebrity world—but on Saturday morning, when my phone rang at half-past six, to a number I didn’t recognize, it didn’t set well with me. Begrudgingly, I groggily answered it.

  “Hi, Chelsey, it’s Mel, Hattie’s manager. I’m calling to make sure you got my email of potential suitors for her. I sent them over to you late last night.”

  I rolled on my back and massaged my head, taking in Mel’s high-pitched, chipper voice. “Yes, I did get the email, but haven’t looked at it yet.”

  “What?! Chelsey, this is an urgent matter. Hattie needs to find someone as a companion, and soon!”

  “I’ll take care of it, I promise,” I yawned into the phone, fighting to keep my eyes open.

  “Okay, but I’m leaving this in your hands. If Hattie’s mad, then it’s not on me.” And with that, she hung up.

  “Bitch,” I murmured, putting my phone back on my nightstand. Snuggling back into a comfortable position, I fell back to sleep—something I valued in my adult life, and something I found to be a plus for not being in a relationship because everyone who knows me, knows how perky morning people piss me off.

  *****

  I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling of my dark bedroom for a moment, and then I tilted my head to look at the clock on my nightstand, to see that it was a little before ten that same morning. Deciding that I needed to get out of bed and get to work, I shuffled to my kitchen to make a pot of iced tea, craving for something cold. While waiting for it to steep, I went back to my bedroom to change clothes and get ready for my day. Throwing on a pair of skinny jeans, a red tank top, along with a white three-quarter-length shawl, and after applying a bit of makeup, just to make myself feel in work-mode, I gave myself a once-over in the mirror, feeling as if I could tackle anything—even any of Hattie’s needs.

  Taking a sip from my iced tea, I opened my email from Mel that read the following:

  Chelsey,

  Please find the attached jpg. images of ten (10) potential suitors for Hattie Marten, including a mini-bio on each of them. These men have all applied for the job, and have signed a confidentiality contract. They know about the cost Hattie is offering to pay them, so there shouldn’t be a problem, considering that they are looking to add some dollars to their bank accounts. You should have everything you need. Good luck!

  Mel

  Well, okay, then, I thought, shaking my head at the short and succinct email. Though I’d read it last night, the shortness of the email didn’t faze me as it did looking it over now, considering it was practically what she’d said on the phone earlier that morning. Before proceeding to open the attachments, I made a folder, titling it: Hattie Marten, Job #1, then downloaded them into the folder. Along with a lengthy bio of each of them, I took a long look at each photo, but if I didn’t find them at least somewhat attractive, or at least could imagine seeing them on the red carpet, then there was no point in continuing. Clicking on the last one, hoping this would be a match, my eyes bugged out when I saw the image, with a familiar name below. “Holy shit!” I gasped aloud, in my quiet apartment, as the name and image stormed in—and what a blast from the past it was. After reading over Bennett Grayson’s profile, I scrolled back up to the first of his two-page document, halting when our eyes met, and a smirk crossed my face. “Yep, you’ll do,” and then I silently laughed, as I picked up my phone to call Bennett, someone I hadn’t talked to since the day we graduated high school.

  “Hello, this is Chelsey Rhodes, personal assistant to Hattie Marten. I came across your application, and after looking it over, I think you might be a great candidate.” I tried to pep my voice up to make it sound like this was a once in a lifetime opportunity, and for some, it may very well be, but with Bennett, I somehow doubted it.

  Before he let out a boisterous, husky laugh, there was a long pause. Finally, he said, “Wow, okay! This is great news!”

  Great! After letting him know that I’d get back to him with a place and time to meet for an interview, we hung up, and that’s when I got to work and started digging a little deeper into Bennett Grayson’s past. My eyes hadn’t escaped my computer screen until it was almost five o’clock. Having taken note after note about Bennett, I felt confident about the information I gained about him. Before I called it a day, I knew I needed to check-in with Hattie, which, I was eager to tell her the news about the possibility of thinking I’d found her the perfect companion for her red-carpet events. However, before doing so, I decided to pop a top on a cold beer.

  “Ah, there you are, Chelsey,” Hattie said, just as I swallowed my first sip. “I’ve been waiting for your call all day.”

  I was a bit surprised she’d said that because I thought if she needed anything she’d be the one to call me. There again, things in the Hollywood life were different when it came to Hattie, which meant that it was everyone else’s job to stay ahead of her. To me, this meant that it was primarily my job to keep her in line and stay on top of things. I can do that! “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you…I mean, I just assumed you’d be the one to call if—”

  “Well, now you know,” she said curtly, cutting me off. “It’s your job, Chelsey, to check-in on me—you know, to make sure I’m happy and am properly attended to.”

  “I will do better,” I promised her.

  “I hope so.” She sighed into the phone, then asked, “So, what are you calling for?”

  Shaking off my mistake, I replaced the frown on my face for a sunny one, and joyfully announced, “I think I’ve found you a suitable companion, and you’re going to love him—I just know it!” I pepped-up my voice by emphasizing the latter sentence, and smiled wider—a genuine one, this time—as I thought about Bennett, and what he would think if he knew my plan was being concocted mainly for him.

  Immediately, Hattie changed from bitch-mode to chipper cheerleader-mode. “Oh my gosh! This is so exciting! Tell me all about him—wait, let me pause the T.V. I’m currently watching my old movies, hoping to gain knowledge of what I can do better.” That sounded like a good technique, I thought, but didn’t say anything. “Okay, I’m ready. So, what’s his name—what’s he like?”

  I indulged in a quick sip before sitting back down at my desk, placed the beer mug next to my laptop and pulled up Bennett’s bio that Mel had sent me, along with numerous other details I’d found about him. Oh, how I loved social media! Just like I’d done with Bennett, I turned my voice into what I hoped would make Bennett sound like he was a perfect match for her. “His name is Bennett Grays
on, and—”

  “I love the name, Bennett,” she swooned into the phone.

  A sly grin spread on my face, and then I began to summarize his bio. “Bennett Grayson is a thirty-four-year-old, well-respected restaurateur, who owns three restaurant chains in the Calabasas, Los Angeles, and Chicago areas. He moved to California after he graduated college in Nebraska—”

  “Hey, isn’t that where you’re from?” Hattie asked me, in the middle of my sentence.

  “Yes,” I said, but in my head, I wanted to say, “Please, don’t remind me,” but I held back. “He went to The Italian Chef and Wine Culinary of Fine Arts, in which he majored in Italian cooking. He took his talents and opened his restaurants soon after graduating over ten years ago, which are The Reel and Gather, That’s Amore, and This & That.” Thinking that I had Hattie swooning already, I decided to sweeten the deal by scrolling up the document and looking at his description and read it word for word. “Bennett Grayson has green eyes; he’s six-foot-two, carries a masculine build—”

  “Wait, is he overweight?” Hattie asked, interrupting me.

  “No, not at all. Actually, from the picture I’m looking at, Mr. Grayson appears to be in very, very nice shape.” It was a far cry from the figure of the large linebacker that he once was, and, if truth be told, he did look good—handsome even, if I might think so myself, though I knew that pictures sometimes lied.

  “Oh, okay, then. Carry on, then.” She sounded surprised by my admission, but I didn’t blame her. After all, to some, a “masculine build” can mean that they appear on the hefty side of the scale.

  I scrolled back down and skimmed the document again, hoping I hadn’t missed out on telling her anything about the man I hoped would be a match for her. When it looked like I’d mentioned everything about him, I asked, “Well, what do you think? Is there anything else you’d like to know about him?”

  After a long pause, Hattie finally replied with, “No, I think that covers it. Please set up the meeting, Chelsey. I would like to meet him as soon as possible—maybe tonight or tomorrow for lunch—but if it’s tomorrow, please, nothing before noon. Do you think that can be arranged?”

  “I’m sure it can, and I will get right on it,” I said after doing a quick celebration dance in my chair.

  “Wonderful! Now, as for where to meet him, have him meet you at my house, and at the security gate, where they can run his I.D., along with receiving the go-ahead to pull through…I will make sure to notify the security guards.”

  Again, I assured her that I would get started on it and would make sure that Bennett and I would meet where she’d instructed for us to.

  “Good work, Chelsey. I hope he doesn’t let me down.”

  “I’m sure he won’t.” Once Hattie and I hung up, I immediately dialed Bennett’s number to set up a meeting between them for as soon as possible. While I waited for him, I took a swig of beer, then heard him come on the line, just as I swallowed. “Hello, Bennett, it’s Chelsey again.”

  “Well, well, well, two times in one day is a record for me.”

  I wanted to laugh, but I didn’t want to flatter him. Instead, I got right down to business and told him that he was chosen as a potential suitor for Hattie, and to see how well they mesh, Hattie would like to meet him. Though, of course, I kept my secret of how and why he was the “winner” to myself. “So, are you available tonight or tomorrow for a late lunch?”

  Before Bennett answered, I heard the clashing of pots and pans being banged together, so I guessed he was at work. “Guys, keep it down,” he hollered, and in an instant, all went quiet—so quiet that I thought he’d hung up.

  “Bennett? Are you there?”

  “Yes, uh, sorry about that. I’m in my office now, where I can give you complete attention.”

  Internally, I sighed, then repeated myself by asking him if he was available that night or tomorrow.

  “Let’s do tomorrow, and as for a time, I’m open, so when and wherever’s good for Hattie.”

  After giving Bennett Hattie’s address, I stated for him to meet me at the security gate of her home, at twelve-fifteen. Even though Mel had sent over a copy of Hattie and Bennett’s signed contract, I reminded him to keep everything a secret until it was time for them to make their first appearance together—in the event that I’ve made a match, of course.

  “Believe me, I understand just how much this is a private matter.”

  “Well, I guess everything’s all set for tomorrow. Do you have any questions?”

  “Just one. Will you be there, too, Chelsey?” he asked.

  The question caught me by surprise. “I will.”

  “Then I’m looking forward to it even more,” he said, then hung up.

  I clicked the end button on my phone, then dialed back Hattie to fill her in on the news, still caught off guard by his question. Did Bennett recognize my name or my voice? No, there was no way he’d remembered me.

  “Hello, Chelsey,” Hattie said, pulling my attention out of curiosity.

  By the end of our short conversation—one that sounded like she was too distracted to have—I felt proud of myself for accomplishing just another step in making a Hollywood actress not only happy, but one I genuinely hoped would be liked again on and off screen. Raising my glass in the air I said, “Here’s to tomorrow, along with hoping that my plan of choosing Bennett Grayson to be a match for Hattie won’t backfire on me.” Hey, I can only wish, right?

  CHAPTER FOUR

  I was surprisingly nervous when I woke-up the next morning, though I didn’t know why. Since I didn’t have any feelings whatsoever for Bennett, nor had I, it just didn’t make sense. Was he handsome back in the day? No, not at all. Was the photo of him handsome? Slightly. As for Hattie, I wasn’t concerned about her liking him, because if he was the least bit handsome, and if he was as charming to her as he’d been to me, then I didn’t anticipate there being a problem. Doing my best, I brushed it off and focused on getting ready for the day.

  Four and a half hours later, and right before I left to go to Hattie’s, I placed a call to her, to make sure the meeting was still on. “Good morning, Hattie! How are you?”

  “I’m fine,” she said, groggily, sounding as if she’d just woken up.

  I contemplated trying to get more out of her and see if she was excited about her day, but decided against it. “I called to let you know that I’m on my way and to see if I need to stop and get anything for you.”

  “There’s no need to stop, but a cup—actually, two—cups of black coffee,” she told me, with an almost whisper into the phone. “Instructions on how to use my coffeepot are in the kitchen next to the machine. When it’s ready, please bring them up to us—I mean me.” Then, before I knew it, Hattie hung up.

  “Well, okay,” I said to myself, pressing the end button, wondering what the day and, quite possibly, the night, too, had in store.

  Not exactly sure of where I was going, thanks to being given the okay to use Hattie’s entrance the first time I was at her home, this time was different because I was being sent to the guests’ access.

  When I turned onto a secluded street that was the main entrance to Hattie’s mansion, a security guard, who was dressed in black pants and shoes, a baby blue shirt with a few patches on it, and a navy-blue hat that read SECURITY on it, took two steps out of his booth, raised his hand in the air to stop me. Flashing a wide grin, he asked, “Hello, miss. How can I help you today?” His voice sounded automated as if those were the only words he knew.

  Knowing that he probably had to see my I.D., I held it out to him. “I’m Chelsey Rhodes, Hattie Marten’s assistant.” He took my I.D., then I continued. “I’m waiting on a Mr. Bennett Grayson.”

  He reached his hand out to me. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Gary, the head of security for Ms. Marten, and I’ve been expecting you. Give me one second, please.” When I nodded, he walked back into his booth, where I saw him tapping on his computer, then a few seconds later, he came out and handed
me back my I.D. card. “Okay, you’re all set,” he said. “You can pull to the side and park, while you wait for your guest.”

  “Thank you, Gary.” I proceeded to do as I was told. Once I was parked and waiting for Bennett, I looked at my clock on my dashboard and saw that I was a few minutes early. While I waited, I imagined how it would be to see him. For four years, Bennett made my high school career miserable, and not once did he apologize for hurting me. Just because it was so long ago, and while we were grown adults now, the internal pain was still very much visible. My mind began to drift back to the first day of my freshman year at Maple Crest High, which was the same day I met Bennett. As I minded my own business by putting things in my locker, a voice came up behind me and pulled on my ponytail. “Hey, loser, what’s your name?” When I turned around, I opened my mouth to speak, but before I could answer him, Bennett was pouring water over my head, exposing my budding breasts through my white T-shirt. Being teased on a daily basis wasn’t fun, nor was being nicknamed Nips.

  “Miss—hello?” Shaking the horrific memories away, I turned and saw Gary was knocking on my window with one hand while pointing to the car behind me. As I rolled down my window, I looked in the rearview mirror and caught a slight glimpse of Bennett. “Miss Rhodes, your guest has arrived. I checked him out, so he’s good to go. Should I lift the gate?”

  “Please do,” I said, just as I began to feel my heart beat at a rapid pace, and within seconds, the metal bar was lifting, allowing me to pull forward, with Bennett following behind. “Ready or not, it’s time,” I murmured. Once I put my car in park, and Bennett had done the same thing, we stepped out of our cars at the same time, but we didn’t look at each other yet, though I caught a peek from the corner of my eyes. Focus! Grabbing my purse, which contained a large zipper case that had my duties from Hattie, along with Bennett’s information from Mel, I was ready to come face-to-face with the man who had made my past life absolute hell.