She smiled nervously, thinking this had to be the most surreal moment of her entire life so far. She couldn’t wait to get into the office tomorrow afternoon to relay this story. But, the strange thing was, the more she sat here with him the more comfortable she was beginning to feel in his company. This famous, handsome actor who made multi-million dollar movies was making her feel totally at ease in his presence. She’d talk to anyone in reality, she was that kind of person, but somebody as famous as he was – it just felt strange to be so comfortable with him so quickly. Strange, but nice all the same. He was just another human being after all, wasn’t he?
“This is going to sound really odd to you ...” She looked back up at him as he carried on speaking, his voice snapping her back to reality. The smile had gone from his face now and he suddenly looked serious. “... but, do you act?”
India narrowed her eyes at this rather strange question. “Sorry?”
“Have you ever done any acting?”
“No. Never. Why?”
He pushed a hand through his hair. “Then this is going to sound even crazier but, back in Los Angeles we’re casting for a film which is due to start shooting very soon. We’re still looking for the right female lead.”
India couldn’t help but stare at him now, wondering what the hell any of this had to do with her. “Your latest film?” she asked, really only opening her mouth to make sure she could still speak.
He nodded. “Yes. Anyway, I’ve been watching you all night; the way you move, the way you laugh ... this really is going to sound odd, but … you’d be perfect for the part.”
India burst out laughing. She couldn’t help it. This had to be some sort of dream. She only hoped she hadn’t fallen asleep in the toilets and was going to be woken up by the cleaning lady thus missing that weekday lie-in she was so looking forward to.
“I told you it was crazy but, I’m serious,” Reece said. “I’m serious.”
India tried to stop laughing and looked at him. “Jesus…you are, aren’t you?”
He nodded. “We need a British girl, a new, fresh face. Out there in L.A. we just can’t seem to find the right one. They’re all trying too hard, all so desperate to be the right girl and all failing miserably. You’d be perfect. I’m all set to ring one of the executive producers and tell him I’ve found the perfect girl and ...”
“Whoa, hold on there!” India said, suddenly sobering up. “This is all going way too fast and I’m having a bit of trouble taking it all in.” She looked at him again, still trying to get her head around just who it was that she was having this conversation with. “Ok. Now, let me get this right.” She took a deep breath and composed herself, continuing to look him straight in the eye. “You’re casting for a film, you need an unknown British girl and you think I could do this? You think I could act in a Hollywood movie? You’ve got to be kidding me? This doesn’t happen in real life. Actually, this doesn’t even happen in my dreams, I’m not even that lucky.”
“India ...”
“You know my name?” That surprised her slightly because she was positive she hadn’t mentioned it.
“I heard your friend talking to you earlier. India, I need you to come to L.A. with me. I need you to screen test for this part and I need you to be good because I think you are the one we need for this movie.”
“This is getting weird again. No, this is getting more than weird, it’s ridiculous! You – Reece Brogan, famous movie star - want me – India Steven, legal secretary from Newcastle-upon-Tyne - to drop everything, go to L.A. with you, screen test for a movie and possibly get the part?”
“That’s exactly what I want you to do. And we leave next week.”
CHAPTER 2
Kenny Ross was bored. He always was when he wasn’t working. If it was up to him he’d go from one movie to the next without a day’s break. There just wasn’t that much going on in his life to fill the gaps between films and he hated doing nothing. It made him feel useless. And lonely.
Kenny was a movie star. He was a Canadian born kid who’d started off his career on the stages of Toronto before taking his chances and moving to Los Angeles six years ago where he’d made one low-budget teen movie before being spotted by a well respected casting agent. They’d got him a co-starring role in a Michael Walsh movie – one of Hollywood’s elite – and from then on, the rest was history.
He was twenty-six year’s old, six-foot-one, with black hair that fell loosely over dark brown eyes and he could only be described as incredibly handsome. With his olive-toned skin - a trait he thanked his Mediterranean-born mother for – and his sexy swagger he was one of the new breed of Hollywood heart-throbs. His last movie had been set in the world of surfing and, due to the way he’d worn his wet-suit, it had gained him a whole new batch of fans, young and old.
He was movie gold right now, in demand and in that enviable position of being able to pick and choose which scripts he accepted. He just couldn’t wait to get back on set and get started on his new movie, starring alongside Reece Brogan, another of Hollywood’s elite, but there was a hold-up. They were having problems finding the right female lead and he couldn’t understand why it was taking them so long. They’d been screen-testing for weeks and how hard could it be, in a town full of actresses, to find one out there who could take this part? He knew they wanted a British girl, not an American who could do a British accent, but a bone-fide British girl, but this town was full of those too. He’d put forward his own ideas and suggestions but they’d all been knocked back. They wanted an unknown, a new face, someone fresh and exciting and who was he to argue?
He slid open the glass doors of his front-line Malibu beach house and walked out onto the deck, looking out over the Pacific Ocean at the surfers and joggers who were frequenting the beach. This was where he wanted to be, right here, in this part of California, in this house with this view. It calmed him. He needed it as an antidote to the partying and wild nights that took place well away from here in the Hollywood Hills and Bel Air homes of his friends; the mornings when he’d wake up in a strange hotel room with a woman he couldn’t even remember saying hello to the night before, the nights when he was totally wasted. But that was the image he had, that was what people knew him for, and he was happy for that to go on because, in Hollywood, image was everything. But this part of his life was his; he brought none of that here to his home. This was his sanctuary, and maybe one day he could share all of this with somebody else, but not now. Not yet. He had too much living to do and he was more than certain there was no woman out there who could stop him from doing that any time soon.
***
Reece Brogan was incredibly handsome in a classic, matinee idol kind of way - and very much single. He’d been single for a long time, preferring the spontaneity of random relationships to the reality and routine of commitment. He was a renowned bachelor, never seen without a beautiful woman on his arm at whatever party or premiere he was attending. He was just never usually seen with the same one twice. With his dark hair and grey-blue eyes, perfect, tanned skin and an accent that veered somewhere between soft Southern Irish tinged with a hint of L.A. twang he was a bit of a charmer, and he’d been quite happy to carry that reputation around with him. Until something had happened to make him realise there were other things in life, new priorities that needed to be sorted out, and he was sorting them. Slowly.
The event he’d been to last night, here in the North East English city of Newcastle- upon-Tyne, wasn’t something he’d usually have attended. But this one had been different. It had been for charity, and Reece did a lot for charity. He’d just finished filming in the city, a city he’d only been to once before in his life, and he’d seen no reason why he shouldn’t show his face and support a good cause.
What he hadn’t deliberately set out to do was find that much needed leading lady for the film he was due to start shooting in L.A. That hadn’t been in the forefront of his mind. He’d had other things to think about. Important things. But India Steven
had fascinated him. From the very second he’d laid eyes on her he knew she was it. She was the one he was looking for. The one they were all looking for. If she could act, if the camera loved her then she was going to blow the big screen apart, of that he had no doubt. She was beautiful, absolutely beautiful, but he got the feeling that she had no idea quite how beautiful she really was.
He walked over to the window of his hotel room, looking out at the view of the city. The memories of when he’d last been here suddenly came flooding back and he smiled. He hadn’t been famous then, far from it. He’d been young and trying to work his way around as many girls as he could during his visit but the thought that one day he’d be as famous as he was now hadn’t even crossed his mind back then. If it had he was sure he would have been far more successful as far as the women had been concerned.
He went back over to the bed, sitting down on the edge of it, picking up his glass of brandy from the bedside table. He took a long drink and closed his eyes as he remembered the look on India’s face change as he’d spoken to her. Of course she’d been wary; of course she’d been confused. How many times did a famous actor approach you out of the blue and tell you you’d be good in movies? What a line! But what else could he have said? He hadn’t intentionally gone looking for a future movie star. But he had intentionally gone looking for India.
He put his glass down and picked up the ‘phone, dialling the number in Las Vegas, checking his watch to make sure of the time difference. It took a few rings before it was answered at the other end and Reece suspected this was because it was the very early hours of the morning over there. A ‘phone call from him was probably the last thing they’d be expecting.
The voice from Vegas was groggy and, unsurprisingly, slightly annoyed.
“Who the hell is this? Do you know what time it is?” Vince Maine, one of the movie’s producers, had been in the middle of a particularly pleasant dream involving Julia Roberts and hadn’t taken too kindly to being dragged out of it.
“Vince? It’s Reece.”
“Reece? What the hell are you doing calling at this time of the morning? Couldn’t it wait?”
Reece ran a hand through his hair and closed his eyes again. “No. Not really.”
“Ok,” Vince sighed. “What is it that’s so important you couldn’t hang on for a few hours?”
Reece really hoped this was going to work. He hoped India was going to get out to L.A. and show them that she did have the ability he badly hoped she had. Because he needed her over there. India Steven needed to be there, in Los Angeles. She needed a reason to be there.
“I’ve found her, Vince. Our perfect leading lady. I really think I’ve found her.”
***
“Oh, for God’s sake, what now!”
The ‘phone ringing was an irritation because Michael Walsh was tired. He’d had a day of interviews and photo shoots and all he wanted to do now was sit down in front of the TV with a bourbon on the rocks and watch the news.
Michael Walsh was a character actor of the highest order, extremely talented at what he did with an incredibly successful movie career. He could turn his hand to anything – drama, romantic comedy; he could play the villain or the good guy. He’d avoided that problem of typecasting by taking on a variety of roles in the early part of his career and that had really paid off. He was a true star, although it was very rare that he ever acted like one.
His life, however, hadn’t been without the often obligatory womanising, drink and drug-fuelled past that many in his position sometimes fell into. But that was all behind him now; he’d been there, done that and bought every t-shirt possible. He’d had three failed marriages and a long stint in re-hab, and that had focused his mind, got him back on track and made him more in demand than ever.
He’d finally settled down, bought himself a gated house high in the Hollywood Hills and was now concentrating on his work, thankful that there was plenty of it.
In his late thirties and staring forty in the face he wasn’t what you’d call conventionally handsome but, despite the slightly receding hairline, he still had the most piercing blue eyes, a devastating smile and more than enough charm to attract the women, although they were few and far between now. He could do without the distractions and the trouble they’d brought him in the past, but he could turn it on when he needed to, when it suited him.
Originally from Chicago his family had moved to L.A. when he was fifteen. He’d always wanted to be an actor but coming from a family of lawyers and doctors everybody had expected him to take the same route, but he’d rebelled. He’d graduated from High School but said no to college, instead choosing to throw himself straight into the world of acting.
He’d moved himself to New York at the age of nineteen and had spent his days waiting tables and his evenings in acting classes until he’d finally landed a break in an off-Broadway play. Just a small role but enough to make him realise he’d made the right decision in deciding to take a chance.
That small role had been a start. After that he’d got one or two parts in small New York theatres until a Broadway director had spotted him one evening, met him at the stage door and told him to meet him for lunch the next day. Dubious, but not one to pass up any opportunity, he’d gone to that meeting and had been handed the Broadway break he’d dreamed of.
For the first few years of his career it had been stage acting he was known for, winning many awards for his theatre work. Awards he was immensely proud of. But he’d ultimately wanted to work in movies, so he’d found himself an agent who was willing to tout his name around Hollywood to see what opportunities were available, and within a month before he’d packed up his life and relocated back to Los Angeles.
The transition from stage actor to big screen star had been easier than he’d imagined, and although it had brought it’s fair share of troubles this town had given him his dream, and he’d be forever grateful. It had given him chances and he was taking every one, which was why he was now branching out into producing and directing – it seemed the natural progression in his already extremely successful career – with this new, soon-to-begin-shooting Reece Brogan and Kenny Ross movie, if they ever got around to finding a seemingly elusive female lead, that was.
It had been partly his idea to go for a new and unknown face, although it was slowly starting to feel like a bad one. If they couldn’t find anyone soon they’d have to look at re-testing actresses they’d already seen and the thought of that just drained him.
He leaned over and grudgingly picked up the ‘phone. “Yep.”
“Michael? It’s Vince.” Vince Maine was Michael’s co-producer, his partner in their movie production company, a long-time friend and successful hotel and casino owner from Las Vegas.
“Vince, how’s it going?” Michael ran a hand over the back of his neck and hoped this conversation was going to be short. He wasn’t in the mood for business talk tonight.
“Guess what?” Vince went on, a hint of excitement in his voice. “The search is over. I think we might have found her, Michael. Our leading lady. I think we‘ve finally found her.”
CHAPTER 3
India curled up on the sofa, staring blankly at the TV, not really taking anything in. Last night had been a blur; something like that just didn’t happen to people in real-life. Not people like her, anyway. Famous film stars didn’t just come up to people and tell them they’d be perfect in movies. Life wasn’t that fantastic.
Charley sat down next to her, nudging her gently, handing her a cup of tea.
“Here you go. Drink this. I’ve made some toast, if you want some.”
India shook her head, smiling at her friend as she took the tea she held out to her. “No, thanks. I’m not hungry.”
Charley settled herself into the corner of the sofa, hugging her knees to her chest as she looked at India. “Are you going in to work this afternoon?”
India shrugged, staring down into her tea. “I don’t know what to do, Charley.”
“I�
��d be packing if it was me. Los Angeles or Newcastle? Hmmm, let me think about that, for about a nanosecond.”
India looked at her. “Come on, Charley. It’s ridiculous! Nobody just walks up to someone and says ‘come out to L.A., you’d be perfect for our movie’. It just doesn’t happen.”
“It happened to you.”
Charley couldn’t believe India was even thinking about it. If Reece Brogan had walked up to her and told her he was taking her to L.A. next week she’d have been packed and out of that flat quicker than you could say Red Carpet! But Charley wasn’t India. Charley didn’t always think before she did things. India sometimes thought too much.
India took a drink, blowing on the tea to cool it down. “I can’t just go swanning off to Los Angeles, Charley.”
“Why not?”
India looked at her friend again. “So, you think I should just drop everything and bugger off to America with a total stranger?”
“He’s not a stranger, he’s Reece Brogan! And he’s gorgeous!”
“He’s a stranger, Charley. I don’t know him; I don’t know anything about what he’s telling me, I don’t know anything about movies or acting … Jesus, this is mad!”
She sat back against the cushions, closing her eyes. “And what about Terry?”
“What about him?” Charley asked, gently taking the mug out of India’s hands, placing it on the table beside her. “He’s twenty-five years old, he can look after himself.”
“I mean, what’s he going to say when he finds out I’m thinking about running off to Hollywood with Reece Brogan to chase some half-cocked promise of a movie career? You see, just saying it out loud sounds ridiculous.”
“He’s your brother not your keeper, India. And if you’re that worried about it, don’t tell him yet. But this is a chance of a lifetime here. You can’t pass this up.”
No Matter What Page 2
