I dress in jeans and Kennedy’s white T-shirt that I wore for the night out at the karaoke bar. Looking into the full-length mirror in the living room, I take a deep breath. My hair looks glossy and flowing and much more glamorous than it ever has. I finger a curl tentatively, my throat dry, my insides feeling like a washing machine on a speed spin.
‘You sure you want to do this?’ Kennedy asks, peering at me in the mirror. ‘It’s a pretty public place to try to meet Gary for the first time…’
I put all of the things that could go wrong out of my head. Remember, fate loves the fearless. I am doing the right thing… Right?
‘It’s the best chance I’m going to get,’ I eventually say, giving our reflections in the mirror a firm and confident nod. ‘And anyway, it’s not like it could be any more disastrous than my attempt to meet Gary at the film lot, right…?’
‘This is crazy.’ Kennedy breathes as the Lyft drops us off and we make our way through the crowd of people outside Grauman’s Chinese Theatre on Hollywood Boulevard. The sun is beating down fervently onto the forecourt and beads of sweat prickle the back of my neck.
‘It’s so busy!’ I grumble. Standing on my tiptoes, I can just about see the red-carpeted podium Gary will be speaking at. From what I’ve seen online, there will be a large box of cement laid out for him to stick his hands into, but there’s too many people here for me to get a clear view. ‘Why are there so many people?’
‘I don’t know,’ Kennedy replies drily. ‘Maybe they all think they’re Gary Montgomery’s one true love.’
I tut at her, but as I look around, I realise, to my dismay, that she might be right. All around me are women and men looking moonily towards the podium outside the theatre, as if waiting for their long-lost love to return from war. A few of the younger women are holding placards like teenage fans do at pop concerts. I crane my neck to read what they say: ‘Gary, I love you!’ and another one that says, ‘I love you, Gary!’ I respect the economy of the sentiment.
I’m not like these women, am I? A desperate fan, wanting to touch fame and talent because it is so far out of my reach? That’s what Imogene said… that I think Gary Montgomery is my soulmate because he is so unreachable that there’s no risk involved. Except I’m here to prove that little theory wrong. Because I have never felt the way I did when I saw Gary on the screen and then in real life at the movie lot. But… what if all of these fans around me think the same? That they are supposed to spend the rest of their lives with Gary Montgomery, if only they could meet him just one time…
Stop it, Nora. Now is not the time to doubt yourself, not when you’ve come this far. Think of the vision you keep having of you and Gary in the ocean together, the fact that he reads CJ West’s Harcourt Royals books, that he loves cheese toasties just like you do, that the dog you are looking after is in love with his dog, think of that thunderbolt right through the belly, exactly EXACTLY like Mum said it would feel.
I take a deep breath and try to calm my jittery heart.
‘We’ve got to get further forward,’ I say decisively to Kennedy.
‘I don’t see how we can!’ she calls back over the excitable crowd. ‘It’s pretty crammed.’
‘Follow me!’ I square my shoulders and start elbowing as gently and politely as I can through the crowd.
‘Hey!’ a very tall woman growls as I push through. ‘Watch it!’
‘I’m sorry.’ My eyes widen as the very tall woman looms over me, snarling slightly. ‘My, uh, my friend is um heavily pregnant and we’re trying to get to the front where there is more room for the baby to, er, breathe…’
It is a stupid lie. I knew it as I was saying it. Babies in bellies don’t need room to breathe. Plus, Kennedy’s stomach is so flat it’s almost concave.
The woman looks Kennedy up and down, her mouth pursed to one side. ‘She sure don’t look pregnant to me.’
‘It’s a phenomenon,’ Kennedy says, patting her stomach and not missing a beat. ‘I have a backward-tilting uterus. Thank god I got a test, otherwise I would never have known I was with child. Can you even imagine!’
A backward-tilting uterus?
The woman nods slowly. ‘Oh yeah… I saw something about that on the TV last week.’
‘On Good Morning Los Angeles? I saw it too. That’s what made me get tested!’
Wow! Kennedy is an excellent liar.
The woman looks at Kennedy earnestly. ‘My god. We gotta get you through to the front!’
And then, to my delight, the very tall woman goes ahead of us elbowing people out of the way on our behalf, much less politely than I was doing.
‘Move aside! Pregnant lady comin’ through!’
‘Backward tilting uterus!’ I add, much to Kennedy’s amusement.
When we reach the front of the crowd, we thank the very tall woman and invite her to stay at the front and hang out with us.
She shakes her head. ‘I’m so tall I can see everything from the back without blockin’ anyone’s view,’ she says proudly. ‘Good luck with the baby!’
Kennedy rubs her stomach indulgently and we thank the woman again as she heads back onto the scramble of people behind us. I feel a bit guilty, but I can’t let good manners get in the way of destiny, not when I’ve come this far!
I look around. Wow. We are right behind the rope barrier and just a few feet from the podium and cement box placed upon the red carpet. Gary will immortalise his handprints right there before the stone is set and taken to the pavement. I side-eye Kennedy and we grab each other’s hands in glee.
‘You are a surprisingly good liar,’ I laugh, narrowing my eyes. ‘Backward-tilting uterus?’
‘Hey, you started it, I just took the baton.’
‘Well, I’m glad you did. Look at how close we are! I’ll definitely be able to call Gary over to us after the ceremony. Shit! This is actually going to happen. I’m going to get to meet him today!’
I look up onto the podium, my insides aching with the thought that I’m going to get to see him again in real life so soon. I wonder if his eyes will meet mine. Will he know? Will he feel what I feel?
As I’m considering all of the things that could happen, I suddenly see something that I did not expect to see today at all. It’s that horrible security guy from the movie set! The Australian guy with the stupid name – John Alan. He’s striding across the front of the podium, talking speedily into a walkie-talkie and directing other security guys where they should stand. What is he doing here? I thought he only worked at the movie lot? Shit.
I nudge Kennedy. ‘That’s the security guy who chucked me off the set,’ I hiss, trying not to be too obvious with my pointing.
‘Who? Where?’
‘That ship-sized man over there…’
‘The one who looks like he’s been pathologically avoiding Leg Day at the gym?’
‘Yes, exactly!’
Kennedy gasps and quickly hands me the large floppy white sun hat she’s wearing before standing slightly in front of me. With my newly curly hair and the fact that I’m wearing my glasses today, I look pretty different than I did the day of my encounter with John Alan… I hope. Nevertheless, I dip my chin, my heart hammering as John Alan gets down on his knees and starts inspecting beneath the podium, wiping his finger on the carpet and giving it a sniff. What the hell is he doing? Why is he being so fastidious? Does Gary have an actual dangerous stalker? Or do they always have these security people at these events?
Down the left side of the red carpet, there are at least fifty photographers, with massive professional cameras. Directly above the podium, a big projector screen plays clips from Justice of The Peace, as well as various press interviews Gary has done.
Kennedy follows my gaze to the projector screen. ‘Like I said, he’s no Joseph Gordon-Levitt, but he is sexy…’ she says as if admitting something previously unknown. ‘In a sort of dark and brooding unconventional kinda way.’
‘He is the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen and will ever se
e,’ I whisper, peering up at the screen and trying my best to shield my face with the big hat. ‘God, can you believe he reads the Harcourt Royals books, Kennedy? Maybe we should email CJ West and let her know. Those books barely sell and surely that kind of publicity would send them into the stratosphere where they belong!’
‘Look! Something’s happening,’ Kennedy interrupts, waving over towards the doors of the theatre.
My heart squeezes as someone comes out of the front doors of the theatre. But it’s not Gary. It’s a smart, older-looking woman with wild silver curls and lots of elaborate gold jewellery. She steps up the podium and taps the microphone twice.
‘Welcome to Grauman’s Chinese Theatre,’ she says confidently. Her voice is scratchy and loud… and I recognise it…Specifically, I recognise it telling me to stay the hell away from Gary Montgomery. That woman on the stage is Gary’s manager, Aileen Gould!
‘My name is Aileen Gould,’ she announces with a wide, perfect-toothed smile. ‘And it is my great pleasure to present this wonderful man for such an incredible honour today. He is a true star, the likes of which we haven’t seen in this generation, and a magnificent, thoughtful actor who is at the beginning of what is set to be a very illustrious career indeed. We could not be prouder of our own Texan Cowboy, who, despite his speedy rise to stardom, remains one of the sweetest and most humble people I have ever worked with. And I should know… the man is dating my daughter!’
The crowd laughs and I wriggle uncomfortably, pushing the nagging thought of Tori Gould out of my head.
‘Ladies, gentleman and children,’ Aileen continues, pointing at a toddler and his mum standing in front of me and Kennedy. The pair of them are holding balloons with pictures of Gary’s face looking warped and stretched over the rubber. ‘I am beyond pleased and very proud to introduce the one and only… Gary Montgomery!’
The crowd around me erupts into cheers. Kennedy gives a polite clap and I just stand still and stare, my breath caught in anticipation of resting my eyes on his face once more.
John Alan opens up the door to the theatre, one hand on his gun holster.
Gary walks out. He’s dressed in a sharp navy blue suit with a crisp white shirt, collar unbuttoned. His usually chin-length flop of hair is slicked back neatly away from his face. He looks even more tanned and gleaming and otherworldly. Now, less than five metres away, I can see his full face rather than just the profile I saw outside of his trailer. My hands tremble, my stomach flip-flops and I’m afraid to blink in case I miss a second of his image on my retinas.
Gary beams and waves at the screaming crowd. It’s different than the smile I saw him do at his phone on the movie lot. This smile is bigger, toothier, not quite as soft around the eyes.
I want to run up to the podium immediately, to point at myself and yell, ‘I’m here! It’s me!’ But that would be psychotic, so I refrain and continue to smile up in his direction, my whole chest filled with pride for him, even though we have never spoken. This must be such a big, weird moment in his career.
Then, to my dismay, Tori Gould steps out onto the stage, grabbing onto Gary’s hand and waving, not at the crowd of fans, but at the photographers. She looks incredible in an almost fully sheer white dress and towering heels. Holding her phone in the air, she takes a selfie in front of the crowd, before pulling a reluctant-looking Gary into one too. Gary’s face relaxes as he points and waves to the far left of the crowd, right near the bank of photographers. I follow his wave to see a young man and woman, hugging each other and waving back at him madly.
When the cheering ends, Gary taps the microphone lightly and squints into the crowd.
‘Wow. Hey, everyone,’ he says in the smooth, deep voice I’ve heard on screen, but which here, now, in real life sends a tingle of electricity right through my whole body. I have never wanted anyone more in my life. ‘Thanks for the intro, Aileen. I’m so lucky to have you.’
Aileen presses a hand to her chest, and then waves him away with an indulgent grin.
‘I’m truly honoured to be here today,’ Gary goes on, his voice continuing to send mad, thumping sparks of desire right into my swimsuit area. ‘I didn’t expect this at all, let alone so soon in my career… But, of course, I’m absolutely thrilled and so very thankful to…’
I don’t hear what comes next because a couple behind me seem to be arguing, their voices escalating snippily.
‘Stop sighing like that! I know you’re bored, but I had to see him! This is my only chance!’ says the female voice.
I spin around to see a very pretty forty-something woman frowning at a beefcake of a man who I assume she is attached to, considering the way he is talking about Gary.
‘You’re married to me babe,’ the beefcake grumbles. ‘I don’t like the way you’re lookin’ at him!’
‘It’s no different to how you look at Angelina Jolie!’ she snaps.
‘But I don’t trick you into coming out to see her do a fuckin’ handprint ceremony! I thought we were comin’ here for a tour! I wanna leave, Rhonda.’
‘No! You said we could stay a little while if I put out tonight! We made a deal.’
I can’t hear a word Gary is saying.
‘Shssssh!’ I say firmly to the bickering couple. ‘I can’t hear him.’
The woman’s pretty face contorts. ‘Don’t you talk to my husband that way!’ she says. ‘Who do you think you are?’
‘Yeah,’ the guy says, putting his arm around the woman as if they hadn’t just been rowing.
I roll my eyes at Kennedy and turn back to Gary, but within a few seconds the couple have started up again.
‘You wanna blow him, doncha? I can tell by the way you’re lookin’ at him,’ says the beefcake.
‘I don’t! I promise. I only wanna blow you!’
‘Why can’t you just be honest with me? I won’t be angry. Just say it. You wanna blow Gary Montgomery more than you wanna blow me.’
How rude are these people! The rest of the surrounding crowd around me seem to agree and I hear a few of them calling out angrily at the couple.
I’m trying my best to block out the distraction and focus on Gary when I hear the boorish couple get into an altercation with someone else in the crowd. I’m about to turn around and ask calmly for them to all please be more respectful when there’s some sudden jostling. And then I feel a massive bump into my back and before I can even gather what is happening, I have been pushed forward towards the rope barrier. The strength of the push means that my body knocks over the small metal rope holders and… No no no! Oh god. No! I am flying forward and I cannot stop it.
I will time to stop and rewind because my already shitty balance and massive boobs mean that what is about to happen is both inevitable and utterly horrifying. Oh my god. I am toppling over, head first, into the box of cement. Aaaaargh!
The entire left side of my face plunges into the wet paste. It’s all cold and squelchy and thick. Ewwww. My hands, thankfully, are on the red carpet and I brace myself to release my face from the gunge, but before I can, I feel a pair of strong hands around my waist, yanking me out.
I have so much goop all over my face and smeared over my eyes that I can barely see anything. I squint one eye open to see only blurry shapes, tinged with cement grey. Shit. Where are my glasses?
From the stage area, I hear Tori shout, ‘Oh my god, is that fat girl trying to get to Gary?’
From behind me, Kennedy shouts, ‘Get off my friend!’ to whomever has grabbed me.
I struggle to get away from the grasp, but the person is strong, and before I know it, they have picked me up and marched me inside the theatre.
As the door closes behind us, I hear the microphone feeding into the speakers around the theatre lobby.
Gary clears his throat and it echoes around me as I am carried down a corridor to god knows where. ‘Anyway… where was I?’ he quips, getting a relieved-sounding laugh from the crowd outside.
Oh my god. I was only trying to get those idiots to pi
pe down and instead I’ve ruined Gary’s big day. Shit. How on earth will I face him now? Shit, Nora. SHIT.
The man carrying me plops me down outside a bathroom. I spin around… Of course. It’s John Alan. He looks a little blurry without my glasses, but I recognise the general bald redness of his head and his barrel-sized chest.
‘I’ve lost my glasses!’ I say immediately. ‘Can you get them for me? Fuck. They’re probably in the cement!’
‘I knew you’d be back,’ John Alan says wearily, ignoring my request. ‘I can always spot the repeat offenders. Go and wash your face and arms and get back out here. Don’t even think of trying to escape. I have security waiting on the other side of that bathroom window.’
I’m too shocked and horrified to answer back, to even process what has just happened. I go into the bathroom and head for the sinks.
With trembling hands, I run the warm tap, grab some paper towels and start cleaning myself up. Rubbing at my face leaves it sore and red.
‘Hurry up, lady,’ John Alan calls from outside of the bathroom.
I step back outside, my head down as John Alan leads me to a small side room, filled with cleaning supplies. He points at a plastic chair and indicates for me to sit. We can still hear the ceremony going on outside. The voice of some producer or other droning in through the speakers inside the theatre.
‘You’re staying there until the end of the ceremony,’ John Alan says, leaning back against a shelf filled with rolls of toilet paper, one hand still on his gun. ‘Until Mr Montgomery decides if he wants to press charges.’
‘Press charges?’ I gasp. ‘Why? It was a bloody accident! I was pushed!’
Before John Alan can respond, Aileen’s distinctive scratchy voice sounds out through the speakers.
‘Well done, Gary!’ she says. I assume, he’s now putting his hands in the cement which was no doubt smoothed over as soon as John carried me off. ‘We are so proud of you on this special day. And I am even more proud to have the greater honour to now exclusively announce… the engagement of Gary Montgomery and my daughter Tori Gould! I have never seen two people more deeply, blissfully in love. I swear they are deliriously joyful over one another! I know they will be beyond happy together for the rest of their lives.’
He Will Be Mine: The brand new laugh out loud page turner! Page 17