Dane: Hollywood's Finest

by Wilde, Delilah

  I peeped my head in the door and saw Dane. He was sitting on the black leather couch and eating what looked to be a delicious curry with noodles from a bowl. There was a bottle of beer on the coffee table and a crass cartoon playing on the TV. He looked up at me in surprise, as if he'd forgotten I was here.

  “Oh, Savannah. Hi. You OK?” he asked. I stayed standing by the door, my eyes fixed on his food. “What's that?” I asked, biting my lip. Dane glanced at the bowl.

  “It's Pad Thai.”

  “Did you order it from somewhere?” I asked. My stomach gave a low moan and I felt myself turning pink with embarrassment, but Dane ignored it.

  “No, they don't do it right in most places. I got the recipe from the director's assistant from my last movie,” he took another mouthful of noodles and swallowed before adding, “It's all right. You don't have to eat it. I can order you some food if you're hungry.”

  “No,” I said, a little too quickly. Dane looked surprised, “There's really no need. I can have what you're having. If there's any left, of course.”

  Dane looked taken aback. I was sure he was going to tell me to fuck off after I had laughed at him so much before. Then a smile danced at the corner of his lips. It quickly turned into a full on beaming grin.

  “Yeah sure, there's a shitload left. I eat like a horse but I made too much for even me,” he slurped the last of his food, “Doesn't mean I won't have seconds though. Give me a sec, I'll grab you a bowl.”

  He got to his feet and looked at me.

  “You know you don't have to stay standing there, right? You can sit down. The couch is comfy and I won't make a move on you,” he said. I was still blushing.

  “OK. Thank you Dane,” I said. He laughed.

  “That sounds so weird coming from you.”

  “Just get me some food before the good mood wears off, OK?” I teased. Dane nodded and retreated to the kitchen. I debated whether I should sit down next to where he had been or take the armchair to the side. For some reason I was drawn to the couch, though I knew I couldn't let anything happen between us again. That was finished.

  Dane returned with two steaming bowls of Pad Thai and a bottle of beer for me. I hadn't drunk beer since high school but I accepted it eagerly. It seemed like a great companion to a warm meal.

  He watched eagerly as I took my first bite. Before it even hit my taste buds I vowed to tell him that it was wonderful it seemed to matter to him a lot that it was. However, as soon as I tasted it I realized that there would be no faking enthusiasm here. It was the single most delicious morsel I had ever consumed in my life.

  “What do you think?” asked Dane. For the first time since I'd known him, he actually seemed to be anxious. It was strange to think my opinion mattered so much to him. I enjoyed that tiny bit of power far too much. I took my time answering, making sure to chew my food with a thoughtful look on my face. As if I had to think about it. I swallowed my mouthful and smiled.

  “It's great,” I said, “It's really awesome. It tastes like something you'd get in a fancy restaurant.” Dane smiled from ear to ear.

  “I'm glad you like it.”

  I wolfed down my entire bowl in minutes and asked for seconds. Dane laughed at me and went to get me another helping. When I was halfway through my bowl he looked at me and smiled.

  “Jesus, you are so not like the girls in Hollywood,” he said. Oh great. Was he going to talk about the way my hair always looked a little messy no matter what I did to it or how big my butt looked in skinny jeans? Of course I wasn't liked the girls in Hollywood. I was a small town girl and I acted like one for the most part.

  “How so?” I humored him, “Is it because I don't care that you're famous?” He nodded.

  “Well yeah, that. But it's not the only reason. I've never seen a Hollywood girl enjoy food like you, do,” he said. Jesus, that wasn't the compliment I was looking for.

  “You saying I'm fat?” I snapped and he laughed at me again.

  “No, we both know that's not true. I'm just saying, most girls in Hollywood don't think it's sexy to eat in front of guys. I've never taken a girl to dinner and had her order anything but a salad and not even a salad with bacon and shit in it. I'm talking a real salad, dressing on the side and no meat,” he said, “As if I give a shit what a girl eats.”

  “I wouldn't care if you gave a shit. I'm not trying to be sexy. I'm trying to eat!” I said, finishing off my Pad Thai. I was truly full now, though it had taken a lot to ease my hunger.

  “That's what sexy about you. You don't try to be sexy.”

  “Dane.”

  “OK OK, I'll cut the sweet talk,” he said, “Remember, I gave you my word. I'm not going to break that no matter how sexy you are. I'm strong. I can resist temptation.”

  I put my bowl down on the coffee table and took a long swig of my beer. It didn't taste half as bad as I remembered beer tasting. Maybe it was age and experience that made my tastes change. More likely, the beer I'd had as a teen had been shoplifted from a liquor store and Dane's beer looked to be imported from a country I'd never heard of.

  “Well you'd best keep on resisting,” I said. A fucked up part of me was hoping that he'd take that as a challenge, grab me and kiss me like he had before. Any other girl would kill to be sitting next to Dane Reynolds on his leather sofa. I'd have bet that most of them would have kissed him by now. I had some self control too, it seemed. Dane winked at me.

  “No problem, gorgeous.”

  Chapter Five

  Dane

  Hanging out with Savannah was surprisingly entertaining. We watched TV and drank beer together, talking over most of the shows. It was hilarious. She had an opinion on everything.

  We wound up watching a celebrity talk show that I'd been on half a dozen times at this stage. Savannah enjoyed asking me about the host (a drunk asshole who treated his staff like shit) and the guests (a director with a foot fetish, a singer who I'd felt up after one of her shows and one of the few actresses I hadn't slept with due to the fact that she was a closeted lesbian).

  “It must be nice having people so interested in the bullshit you have to say,” said Savannah, as the actress went on about her dogs, “Look, the audience are eating that shit up.”

  “It's all right, I guess,” I said, “I just try to be funny.”

  “People don't listen to me. They never did. I listened to them, of course. I listened to so many friends go on and on about their problems with men or problems with their mothers or problems with their jobs. I always gave solid advice, but it was all for nothing. Most of them didn't listen to me and just kept doing the same dumb shit that got them in their situation in the first place. The ones that did all conveniently disappear when I have a problem and I need help,” she sighed, “It sucks feeling like people only care about what you can do for them. It makes me feel like shit. If I was a movie star like you, or that actress then people would hang on my every word.”

  I wasn't sure what made her want to open up to me like that but I had a feeling she didn't do that with every guy. It made me feel pressured, like I had to help somehow. At the same time I enjoyed that she obviously trusted me enough to say all that. I had to correct her, however.

  “People don't listen to me either. Well they do in a way, but it's the character I'm playing. Even in interviews I'm not being myself. If I'm promoting some shitty romantic comedy I'm not going to tell people that I don't do relationships. That wouldn't go down well with the rom com crowd. Instead I say that I'm looking for love and I just haven't found it yet,” I laughed at the ridiculousness of the statement, expecting Savannah to laugh along with me. Instead, she was silent.

  “You really don't like relationships, huh?” she said. I shrugged.

  “They've never appealed to me much,” I responded. Savannah nodded slowly. “They're a lot of hassle.”

  “Exactly.”

  “It's nice to have someone to hold you at night though,” she added thoughtfully. I shrugged again. It's not like I would
know what that was like.

  “If you say so,” I said, “Now, why don't we watch something else?”

  I was eager to move the subject on from relationships. I didn't like when Savannah got all serious with me. I preferred her at her snarky best. As I scrolled through the channels I found a great way to reignite her sense of humor.

  They were showing one of my films. “You ever seen Cannibal Massacre?” I asked. Savannah shook her head, smirking. “How many critic's choice awards did that win?” she teased.

  “We were snubbed. It's a great movie, if you like naked chicks getting eaten by other naked chicks. I'm only in it for like twenty minutes before I get eaten,” I said. It was one of my earliest roles. I'd been delighted to take it on at the time. My character actually had a name and it gave me a pretty decent paycheck, but in the last few years it had come back to haunt me. The only person I could stand to watch it with was someone who couldn't take it seriously.

  “Well what are you waiting for? Let's see your amazing performance!” demanded Savannah. I obliged, changing the channel over. It was still on the opening credits so luckily we hadn't missed anything major. We watched it together, laughing at the low budget gore and gratuitous female nudity. Savannah screamed when my character came on screen.

  “Oh my god, you have like no tattoos!” she said, “You look so different.”

  She watched excitedly at first but soon I noticed her eyelids dropping a little bit. She fell asleep just moments before I met my gory end, her head resting on my shoulder.

  I put my arm around her, just to try it out. It felt all right.

  Savannah

  I woke up on Dane's couch with my head on his chest. During the night we'd somehow switched positions so that he was laying flat on his back and I was snuggled into him. We hadn't fucked. I would have remembered it if we had. Sleeping together like this felt even more intimate to me. Maybe it had been a mistake.

  “Dane,” I nudged him awake, “Dane, its morning now.”

  His eyes opened and I saw him taking a double take at the sight of me cuddled up so close to him. He didn't speak for a moment, he just stared at me as if he'd forgotten my name.

  “Maybe I should go home,” I said. Dane nodded.

  “The paparazzi should be gone by now. They don't tend to hang around little towns like this if they can help it. They've probably moved on from your place,” he said, “I can give you a ride just to make sure.”

  “Oh yeah, your Porsche was really undetectable last time. We didn't stand out at all,” I said. Dane rolled his eyes at me.

  “I have a normal car to do my groceries in. It's even got a dent in the back. It'll fit right in in your shitty neighborhood,” he said. I imagined what it must be like to have a car specifically dedicated to getting groceries with. Even if Dane had been poor once upon a time, he didn't remember it very well.

  “All right. If you're offering I'll take a ride,” I said. Dane edged away from me and got up from the couch.

  “Great. Why don't you let me grab a shower and we can get going,” he said. I nodded and watched him jog upstairs. We'd made it through the whole night without giving into temptation. Now he just had to get me home safely and we'd never see each other again. That was all we needed to do. I was proud of myself for exercising such self control.

  I lay back on the sofa and grabbed the remote, eager to watch a little bit more mindless TV before I had to go home and return to reality. I had a flip through various breakfast shows before landing on a tacky celebrity gossip segment. I normally never watched that crap but I was interested to see if they would mention Dane. We could have a good laugh about the bullshit they were spewing on our way back to my place.

  The TV hosts talked for a while about what some actress had worn to a red carpet even and why it was so atrocious. It did look pretty bad when they showed it up close. What idiot had designed that? If that actress had come to me I would have made her something beautiful. Why was it that talentless hacks got amazing opportunities and I didn't? It made me sick to think about it. Thankfully, the subject soon changed from fashion to celebrity romances. The hosts discussed a few recent marriages and debated about how long they would last. God, I could see how this shit became so addictive. They even allowed viewers to call in to place bets on when these marriages would end. Suddenly, Dane's photograph appeared on the screen.

  “Now can we talk about Dane Reynolds?” asked one of the hosts. The co-host giggled. “Oh god, what's he doing now?”

  “He's got himself another girlfriend by the looks of things,” said the first host, “They say he might actually be ready to settle down.”

  There was a pause before the two hosts bursts into peels of laughter at this crazy notion. Dane Reynolds, settling down? They'd be more likely to believe that the moon was made of cheese.

  “As if!” said the second host, “Anyway, who's the new squeeze?”

  In what I at first mistook for a hallucination, my face suddenly appeared on the screen next to Dane's. My mouth was open and my eyes were wide. It was one of the photographs that the paparazzi had taken of me yesterday.

  I had to rewind the segment to hear what the hosts were saying about me as I was in too much shock to listen the first time around.

  “Her name is Savannah Finn, apparently. And get this, she's not an actress, or a singer. Nothing. She's a seamstress!” the two hosts laughed again, as if I was the funniest joke in the world. The word 'seamstress' cut into my like a knife.

  The two of them talked about how our so called relationship would never last and that Dane would have a new blonde by next week. Then the segment ended and they moved onto another celebrity. I paused the television, feeling my whole body shaking violently. I had so many questions. How did they know my name? How did they know what I did for a living? Who had told them?

  When I checked my phone I saw that it was full of messages from people who wanted to know what the hell was going on. I had no idea what to tell them. Suddenly Dane appeared, naked but for the white towel wrapped around his waist. He glanced at the TV screen and grimaced at what I was watching.

  “Ugh, not those two sea hags. What are they talking about today?” he said. “Bitching about someone's outfit as usual? I don't know how you can stand that crap.”

  I nodded.

  “They talked about clothes for a while,” I said softly, “Then they talked about us.” “Us?” said Dane, “Huh?”

  I made him watch the segment. He shook his head the whole way through, sighing deeply when they showed my picture. When it was over I paused it again.

  “They know who I am and what I do,” I said. Dane gave another sigh.

  “Damn it, I hate when this happens. Sorry about that Savannah. They'll move on once they have some new gossip to talk about,” he said.

  “What are we supposed to do until then?” I asked. I stood up to face him. “I can't just go ahead and live my life while people are bombarding me with questions and taking photographs of my every move.”

  “That's what I do,” said Dane, “It sucks, but I have to do it.”

  “Yeah, but you chose this life. I didn't. I didn't chose any of this,” I groaned, “Oh god, what am I going to do?”

  Dane took a step closer to me. Before I knew what he was doing he pulled me into a tight hug. I resisted at first, but it wasn't long before I found myself sinking into his embrace. His bare skin smelled so comforting that I couldn't stand to let him go.

  “I'll fix this,” he muttered into my hair, “I'll fix it all.” I would have to believe that when I saw it.

  Dane

  It came with the territory of being a movie star that people would care about who I was fucking. I learned early on that that was just part of the package. All the girls I'd been with up to this point had seen the exposure as a massive bonus to sleeping with me. Savannah was so different to them. I shouldn't have been surprised when the sight of her own face on the television caused her to burst into tears.

 
That's why I hugged her. It wasn't like me, I knew, but the moment called for it. Her body felt so delicate and soft against me. I couldn't help but feel protective of her. I would fix this. I had no idea how, but I would fix it. I just had to.

  I looked down at where Savannah was snuggled into my shoulder and she looked up at me. Her eyes were brimming with tears and her lower lip was trembling. If there was one thing that I couldn't stand in life it was seeing a chick cry. Especially if that chick was Savannah. I had to do something, anything to stop that from happening.

  My first instinct was to kiss her and I rarely argued with my instincts. I cupped her face in my hands and drew her in for a soft, gentle kiss on the mouth. It was meant to be comforting but she kissed me back passionately and tugged on my hair. Fuck. She had changed her tune. I pulled away to look at her.

  “I thought you didn't want this,” I said. Savannah bit her lower lip.

  “I didn't,” she said, “But now I do. Just distract me for a while. Please.”

  She didn't need to ask me twice. I grabbed her hips and pulled her close to me, making her feel the hard on underneath my towel as I kissed her. Her hand reached out for it and I felt it stroking me through the rough material of the towel.

  “Let's go upstairs,” I suggested, and she didn't argue. My bedroom was arguably the most impressive room in the house. It had a huge bed and bay windows that opened up onto a large balcony where I'd had a hot tub installed. Savannah's eyes lit up when she saw it.

  “I've never been in a hot tub before!” she said. The opportunity was too good to turn down. Besides, I liked the idea of watching her try it out. I guided her outside. The warm weather of the morning was perfect for a private Jacuzzi session between the two of us.