The Redhead Series

by Alice Clayton

  But in the other camp, a smaller but quite vocal group of women online were expressing their support. More than one blogger had written about the fuss being made about my weight, increasing the dialogue about women on film and TV and the thin-thin-thin image we were all supposed to mold ourselves into. Not gonna lie, those bloggers made it easier for me to grin and bear this idiocy.

  Speaking of grinning and bearing it . . .

  “Okay, uncle! Uncle, I give!” I collapsed to the mat and breathed heavily after the last set of crunches were finished. Megan laughed and threw me a bottle of water, which I took gratefully. Drinking it down, I stared out at Los Angeles. From this high up, the palm trees swayed in the breeze, the glitter from a hundred Bentleys making the street below sparkle. What a town. Absently I rubbed my necklace from Jack.

  His public.

  His public continued to rage about me, online at least. The pictures of him and his new costar had brought another round of sniping from his biggest online fan clubs. He was never really dating me—I was a cougar who was fame hungry—it was exhausting. What was I to do? Did I admit that I hated what the press was saying about me? Did I comment? Did I shy away? Did I cower in the corner, or did I come out swinging, teeth bared and claws out like a cougar?

  And in addition to all this bullshit going on about the size of my ass and whether I was sleeping with Sexy Scientist Guy, I had the biggest thing ever in my professional career going on. Which, by the way, was being overshadowed by this inane chatter. Would be nice if that could be the focus.

  Glad to see we are getting back on track here . . .

  My new show was set to premiere next week, and there were more interviews to go to, radio shows to call in to, hoops to jump through, and talk show hosts to charm. And I was supposed to be focusing on potted plants and their place in my natural world?

  Pick your path. You don’t get to decide how the public reacts. You only get to decide how you react.

  True, very true.

  Victim? Warrior? Pick. Your. Path.

  As I was contemplating, I saw a woman walk nervously into the gym, peering through the window. Pretty. Plump. Her eyes darting everywhere, she tensed when she saw me watching her. Her hands tugged at her T-shirt, pulling it down a bit, trying to cover up probably without even knowing it. I smiled at her, and she seemed to relax, but only a bit. Megan spied her through the window and waved her out.

  “Hey, Chelsea, I’ve gotta take a quick call,” Megan told her. “Go ahead and start stretching out for a few, and then we’ll get started, okay?” She grabbed her phone and ducked back inside. Chelsea looked at me, then did a double take.

  “Um, are you Grace Sheridan?”

  “Have we met before?” I asked, walking over after picking up my bag.

  She smiled shyly at me, again picking at her shirt and tugging it down a bit. “Well, um, I’m a big fan of Jack Hamilton.” She blushed furiously. “And, well, you know, you’re kind of all over the Internet lately.” She blushed even more.

  “Ah, well, yes. That’s true.” I chuckled. “And you’re correct. I’m Grace.” I extended my hand to her.

  She shook it with a grin. “I’m Chelsea. Oh my God, I can’t believe it! I’ve been seeing commercials for your new show. I can’t wait!”

  “Really? Wow, that’s great. You’ll have to let me know what you think after next week.”

  “I gotta tell you, at first I only knew who you were because of, well, your pictures with Jack. And you know, at first, of course, I was jealous because, well, my God, he’s gorgeous!”

  She giggled, becoming more animated as she talked. I laughed with her, nodding my head. He was gorgeous.

  “But then, when the press started picking on you? Dammit, that pissed me off! And I thought, well, shit, if anyone is gonna be with that beautiful man, I like the idea that it’s someone like you. Does that make sense? Sorry, I know I’m babbling, but I have to know, are you two dating? Please tell me yes,” she finally ended, breathing heavily. Her eyes were dancing, her cheeks still pink.

  I took a breath on my own. “If I say yes, are you going straight to TMZ?” I winked.

  “Fuck no!” she exclaimed, then slapped her hand over her mouth. “I mean . . . actually, I do mean fuck no!”

  “Then fuck yes, we’re dating,” I answered, and she squealed.

  I threw my head back and laughed, louder than I had in a while. As we laughed, Megan came sauntering back outside, looking like a very pretty drill sergeant.

  “Grace? You still here? Usually my clients can’t wait to get out of here when I’m done with them. Chelsea, get your ass over on that mat and strike a mean warrior pose!”

  Warrior?

  Fuck yes. I spun toward Megan.

  “Megan, what if I told you I never wanted to weigh myself again. How would you feel about that?”

  “Awesome.”

  “And if I said I didn’t care what I weighed, as long as I was strong?”

  “Awesome.”

  “Fantastic. Thanks, Megan. Nice to meet you!” I called over to Chelsea, who was indeed striking a mean-ass warrior pose.

  “You too, Grace! And tell Jack I said hi!” She giggled, her warrior becoming a little unbalanced as Megan pushed me to the door.

  “Go away now, Grace. Can’t have you distracting my clients.” She shook her head.

  “I’m going, I’m going. But seriously, I’m not weighing myself anymore,” I told her.

  “Good girl.” She winked.

  I left feeling lighter than I had in weeks.

  fourteen

  LateNightRecap.com

  Grace Sheridan was the toast of late-night this week, with appearances on Jay Leno, David Letterman, and Jimmy Fallon. While all three hosts tried to get her to comment on the status of her relationship with alleged boyfriend Jack Hamilton, Grace deftly kept the conversation focused on her career and her new show, Mable Unstable?, set to premiere in just two days. But the other hot topic that has dogged her lately, her weight, was not off-limits at all. In fact, Grace spoke candidly to Jimmy Fallon when he asked about her weight and what being asked to lose weight for this role had done to her:

  “Well, Jimmy. Can I call you Jimmy?”

  “It is my name.”

  “Can I just tell you—before we talk about my giant ass—how big of a crush I have on you? Seriously, big crush, Jimmy.”

  “Well. Now I’m blushing.”

  “Then this would be a good time to talk about my giant ass, right? Since you’re already blushing?”

  “It seems like a good time. But really, how in the world did this story get started? And I gotta tell you, for all the fellas in the audience, I’m just gonna say, it’s not giant, but you do have one sweet ass.”

  (Audience applauding)

  “Thanks, boys! I guess it started when I was cast in Mable Unstable? I’m new to this industry. Let’s not pretend, okay? And I know it’s just part of it, losing weight or gaining weight for a role. Makes sense, right? But then my body figured out it was exactly where it was supposed to be! And I realized I was not willing to risk my health, especially when in the real world outside of Hollywood, no one would ever call me fat! So this is me, curves and all.”

  “Thank God for curves. That’s all I can say.”

  “Aw, thanks, Jimmy.”

  “And now I’m blushing again . . .”

  Grace told similar stories on Late Show and The Tonight Show, responding to her critics with an honest assessment of her body and choice words about what Hollywood expects from women. Looks like Grace Sheridan isn’t playing . . .

  CelebTracker.com

  Grace Sheridan continues to dominate the headlines this week as she’s crossed the country twice to promote her new show premiering tomorrow on Venue. Appearing with the ladies on The View, she took on her critics once more, answering questions about the pictures that have surfaced of her prior to her return to acting, when she was substantially heavier.

  “That was me. Would I h
ave preferred that those pictures of me when I was not in a great place in my life never surfaced? Of course. But I have to own that part of my life too. I was out of control, unhappy, and feeling buried by a situation that was my own creation. I struggled with my weight the way so many women in this country do, and I still struggle with it. But for me, being healthy was a choice I made for myself, to be strong and to be aware of the decisions I made on a daily basis, so I could be the kind of person I wanted to be.”

  When asked about whether she is dating Jack Hamilton, Sheridan once again dodged the question, stating only, “He’s pretty cute, isn’t he?”

  TMZ

  A private screening for Mabel’s Unstable? was arranged tonight at Sam’s, a restaurant in Hollywood, with the entire cast in attendance, including Grace Sheridan and Jack Hamilton. For a couple who isn’t dating, they sure show up at the same place an awful lot, don’t they? They arrived separately. Grace showed up with her manager, Holly Newman, and the creator of the new show, Michael O’Connell. Jack arrived much later with bad boy Adam Kasen in tow. Adam stopped outside to sign autographs for a few minutes, rolling his eyes when asked about whether he was causing friction between Jack and Grace. “Are they dating?” he asked the crowd, then smirked and disappeared inside.

  I settled back in my chair, tummy fluttering in anticipation. All night I had moved from table to table, cluster to cluster of people, chatting, talking—I suppose you could even say schmoozing. The cast and crew, their families and friends and plus ones, everyone was here to watch the first episode of Mabel’s Unstable? and get their first glimpse at the new show. Michael and I worked the room together for a bit, explaining how we’d known each other since college and talking about the development of the characters as they took life in New York last year. He was so very proud, and he even strutted a bit as the early praise was heaped on about the world he’d created. Holly worked the room as well, all business hidden behind a perfect smile.

  I’d watched as Michael’s eyes sought hers across the crowd, her wink making him stutter a bit while he talked to a film producer who had bankrolled most of the movies made in the nineties and now looking for a new project to sink his dough into. I’d left Michael’s side to grab a quick drink and take another look for the Brit.

  He was late. And not just a little late. We’d lost touch around lunchtime. He’d had a meeting, and I was occupied with radio interviews all day. We’d agreed to arrive separately, but now that I was sitting in my seat, the show, my show, about to start, I wanted him there. I was nervous, more nervous than I ever thought I’d be, and I needed his hand to hold. In the dark, I could hold his hand and not worry about cameras or roving eyes or gossiping mouths. I could watch myself on-screen, and even though I’d flinch and blush as I watched, my hand would be in his, and I’d enjoy the moment.

  But now, with the lights flashing to let everyone know to take their seats, he was still not here. Holly and Michael slid into their seats, leaving the space next to me open. Holly raised her eyebrows in question, and I shrugged. I checked my phone again, still nothing. David Lancaster stood up to make a quick speech, thanking everyone for coming, and then with light applause, the lights went out. As the opening credits began to roll, I closed my eyes and took a breath. As I exhaled, I felt someone slide into the seat next to me, and I opened my eyes. Jack.

  Jack. Smelling like alcohol and slouching down into his chair. Grabbing at my hand he leaned in and whispered “Sorry I’m late, Crazy. Traffic was hell. We got stuck on the 405.”

  “Who is we?” I whispered back as his whiskey breath fanned over me. A few seats down I could see Holly staring over, and I waved her away.

  “Adam. He wanted to come along and support my girl. He still feels really bad about everything.”

  “He feels bad? I can’t believe—”

  “Shh, let’s talk about it later. It’s starting.”

  He clutched my hand close as images began to appear on the screen. Suddenly there I was, thirty feet tall with a potted plant. People began to cheer all around me.

  “Well, look at you.” He grinned, and just like that, I forgot all about Adam. Having never worked in television before, I’d never been a part of taping something you wouldn’t see for weeks and weeks, and then you still never know what you’ll end up with. Sure, I’d seen the dailies. But you never know which cut they’ll use, how they’ll edit it together, and how much music can shape a scene. And now, watching the finished project, I was in awe of the work that had gone into it. I was nervous, sure, but I enjoyed the shit out of it. I laughed. I hid my face in Jack’s shoulder during the sex scene. I rolled my eyes every time I saw myself carrying a book . . . but I was proud.

  There was a moment, sitting there in the dark and watching myself on-screen, where I realized I had come full circle. I had truly changed my life, fulfilled a dream I’d had since as early as I could remember, and I was now making a living as an actress. I was getting paid to sing and act and pretend to be someone else, and it was something I don’t think I will ever be able to adequately describe. I’d sat in a theater similar to this one not very long ago, watching actors onstage and sobbing because I was no longer a part of that world. And here I was, inside a moment with a dramatically different outcome.

  A tear trickled down my cheek at the closing credits, and I was so full of happiness I could burst. As the lights came up, Jack beamed at me as he stood. All around, people stood and applauded as I smiled. I clapped my hands off when Michael was pushed forward for his standing ovation and watched as Holly planted a big, giant, sloppy kiss on his mouth in front of everyone. As the crowd began to disperse, I looked at Jack, who was watching Michael and Holly.

  His eyes met mine, and they were a bit sad. They were also bloodshot. I saw Adam coming down the aisle toward us, and I turned back to Jack.

  “Why were you late, Jack?”

  “I told you, traffic,” he said, eyes now on the floor.

  Adam made his way over, slapping Jack on the back and grinning at me. “Grace! Show was great. I really enjoyed what you did up there,” he exclaimed, turning toward the crowd and nodding a little. As I watched, he positioned himself between Jack and me just as a woman with a camera phone snapped a shot: Adam smiling, Jack sullen, and me ready to spit nails.

  “Can I talk to you, please?” I pulled on Jack’s sleeves as soon as I knew the camera was put away.

  “Oooh, here we go.” Adam laughed, holding up his hands in mock surrender as I led Jack to a quiet corner.

  “What the hell, Jack? I can’t believe you brought him here. What were you thinking?”

  “I’m sorry. I was trying to get away, and he insisted on coming. He wanted to be here. I told you he feels really bad about the way things have been with you two and—”

  “He should feel bad, but that’s not why—”

  “When I realized how late it had gotten, it was just easier to bring him along. Christ, I didn’t mean to be so late, but if he didn’t come with me, then I—”

  “You would bring him here, knowing how much tonight meant to me? How—”

  “—would have been even more late and . . . wait a minute, this is ridiculous.” He finally stopped. We’d been talking over each other. “Say what you want to say, Grace.”

  “I already said it. I can’t believe you brought him here.” I crossed my arms and stared hard at him. He was a mess. Torn T-shirt under a dirty blazer, jeans that were always a bit tattered but now looked positively uninhabitable. Taking a closer look, his eyes were bloodshot, but they were wild too—spacey and not at all Jack. He ran his hand over his shorn hair, and I could see he knew I had noticed the change. As he looked anywhere but at me, I saw him catch sight of someone.

  “Oh, bloody hell. Here it comes.”

  Holly barreled over, standing next to us and effectively blocking us from the rest of the crowd. “Guys, what’s going on? And what the hell, Jack? You get jumped on your way over here?” She fixed the collar on his blazer. Wron
g move.

  “Jesus, enough!” he snapped, jerking away from her hands.

  “Whoa, what’s the problem?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

  “How much time do you have?” he muttered, eyes scanning the crowd. Nodding to someone, he took my hand and squeezed it. “Come on, Crazy. Let’s go get a drink.”

  He started to pull me after him when Holly placed her hand on ours. We looked like a football team in a huddle deciding on a play.

  “No hand-holding,” she instructed, her voice all business.

  “Oh, fucking give it a rest, why don’t you?” Jack growled, continuing to tug on my hand.

  I saw Adam near the bar, watching the entire thing, and I dug in my designer heels. “Jack, I don’t think—”

  “You’re not actually going to listen to her, are you?” he asked quietly.

  I could see some of the crowd had begun to take an interest in our corner. Camera phones. The last thing I needed at my premiere was a scene.

  Like the one you almost caused at his premiere?

  Ouch.

  But still, coming late, coming drunk, bringing Adam? Who was currently smirking at me from across the room. I looked at Jack again, his eyes were fuzzy.

  “Come on, Jack. Let’s go get some coffee.” I squeezed his hand but let go of it before Holly could say anything else. When the hell had I become the adult in this relationship? I waved over a waiter and as Jack fumed next to me, I asked for black coffee.