Screen Idol

by Elle Rush

  “You don’t ask for much. Fine, press phalanx at noon, with cake, followed by a quick escape at two o’clock and an afternoon of fundraising on the beach, even though it’s St. Valentine’s weekend and some of us have dates.”

  “Quit reading Bridget Jones.”

  “Dude, you recognized the quote.”

  “I have two sisters. You don’t.”

  “I can appreciate women’s literature.”

  “You appreciate Renee Z. Get to work.” The End Call button was a wonderful thing.

  This might actually work. Shit. He forgot to ask Chris if the High Note people were on the lot yet. Sydney was thawing toward him; he could tell. She’d forgiven him for the near kidnapping. He needed the movie producers to see he could be cast as an average guy who could catch a regular girl. Sydney might have to turn it down a notch to pass for average though. Nobody would believe that someone outside the business could fake calm and charm industry pros like she had. He wasn’t certain how she was doing it, but she had definitely pulled it off with Mr. Dobson, and him. Maybe it had something to do with her job. He could see that working in a call center would definitely gain her some skills in swinging people’s opinions her way.

  Maybe he could ask her not to…Karma, stupid. If he could have smacked himself in the back of the head without attracting attention to himself, he would have. He would not ask Sydney to be less than she was to make him look better. Karma was putting others first, not belittling them. Besides, if she impressed him, she’d impress the studio people. Showing up with an extraordinary woman like her would be an even better coup. He got lucky with his owner for the day, and everyone was going to know it.

  Not that he had the role in the bag yet. He got Martine on the line and gave her more details than he’d given Nick. They were right. She screamed. Fortunately, very little of it was at him. With any luck, Layla would have been on the receiving end about her sister’s screw-up, and Nick would have gotten it about his unplanned event, and the worst of the fireworks would be over by the time they arrived. Chris had cautioned her that absolutely nothing was to blow back on their grand prize winner.

  He turned around and jumped when Sydney arrived in the doorway. She’d changed into a pretty blue and white striped sundress and strappy white sandals. It reminded him of the dress his sister had worn to his parents’ thirtieth anniversary party. It had that “I’m expensive” sheen and stiffness to the material. It also covered a very respectable amount of skin. He’d now seen Sydney in three different outfits and still hadn’t gotten a good glimpse of cleavage. Chris was starting to think it was a conspiracy. “Are you ready to go?” she asked.

  “Are you?”

  She hefted a backpack. “All I need is a place to change.”

  “I’m going to have to get back into my tux if I want to keep up with you.”

  “What?”

  “You look very nice.” He tugged at his belt.

  “Should we get going?”

  “Yes, absolutely.” He took her bag on the way out, and waited on the front step while she locked the door behind them. She looked out onto the street and hesitated when the limo was not parked up the street like it had been earlier that morning.

  “Dude, where’s your car?” Sydney asked with a laugh.

  “I left it up past the coffee shop.”

  “So how did you get here?”

  Saying he ran sounded a little too desperate. “I needed some time to think up my master plan.”

  “Bribery is your master plan?”

  “It worked, didn’t it?”

  “Just so you know, I would have done it for free on any other day.” She looked so earnest. He believed her. He could absolutely see her agreeing to spend the day with a stranger to help him out, and making sure they had a good time doing it. She was doing a great job as it was. The least he could do was return the favor.

  “I know. That’s why I’m going to help out your fundraiser. You deserve it.”

  “Thanks again for that.” She stared at him for a minute. “Chris, the limo?”

  “Right.” Fortunately, he had the driver’s number. They stood on the sidewalk gathering a fair share of looks and people taking pictures on their phones before the limo pulled up.

  Benny threw the door open and hopped out as soon as it stopped moving. He whistled at Sydney, who blushed outrageously at the compliment. She stood beside Chris as Benny snapped away, and let him help her into the limo yet again. Chris couldn’t be certain, but he thought the kid’s zoom lens was getting a workout, and it hadn’t been pointed in his direction.

  “I’m going to have to hit wardrobe, aren’t I?” Chris asked him as he tucked Sydney’s bag against the back of the driver’s seat.

  “Not at all.”

  “I think I’d better.” Chris sent a text directly to Martine asking she have navy slacks and a white button-down shirt waiting for them when he arrived. Adding “Nick will explain everything” crossed the line a bit, but considering she hadn’t cleared the event beforehand with him either, he was certain he’d be given some slack since he’d come through for her.

  “I think you’re going to need your running shoes this afternoon, Benny,” Sydney teased.

  “We just have the sweepstakes party, don’t we?” the photographer asked.

  “Nope. Chris is my slave for the whole day. After that we are going to the beach.” She turned to look at him as he sat beside her. “I’m thinking pompoms would be appropriate.”

  “I’m bringing Nick Thurston and God-knows-who-else to your fundraiser.”

  “Good, they can have pompoms too. Do you want to practice your cheer now?”

  Benny was in hysterics. And, damn it, Chris knew he was going to end up shaking his pompoms. “I thought you believed in karma,” Chris whined.

  “Karma will get a kick out of it. I promised you no humiliation, but a little embarrassment will keep you humble.”

  Sydney got tense beside him as they entered the studio lot. Really tense of the stop talking, barely breathing kind. He reached over and grabbed one of her hands that she had clenched around her skirt.

  “Hey, Syd, what’s up?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Would it help if I told you there was going to be cake?”

  “You can’t have cake.”

  “No, but you can.”

  “You got me cake?” Her face lit up, and her fist loosened enough that he was able to slide the material out of it and thread his fingers through hers.

  “Absolutely, unless Nick fell down on the job.”

  “Can he eat cake?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll bet he got it then. Most men won’t pass up cake.” Sydney gave him a look that radiated pity. She was right too. Nick probably got a vanilla layer cake with chocolate icing just because it was Chris’ favorite and Nick knew he couldn’t have any. Bastard.

  “Are you ready to be the guest of honor?”

  “Have I mentioned how much I really don’t like being photographed?”

  Chris looked over at the photographer. “Benny, can you give us a couple minutes, please?”

  Benny hopped out the door, and Chris watched through the window as he crossed over to Martine, who was waiting outside, and started showing her the latest batch of photos on the camera’s screen.

  Chris squeezed her hand. “These are all good people. My castmates are great. And Martine Peeples, the blonde outside, knows you are helping us out. She’ll keep everything under control. I promise.” She’d better. For all the screaming she’d done when Nick had originally told her that the sweepstakes winner may not be able to attend, she had better make it worth Sydney’s time, especially considering the serious phobia his “master” had when it came to cameras. He’d checked some of the pictures Benny had posted. Sydney looked like cornered prey when she had to pose. The candid shots of her were practically of a different person as she radiated smiles and laughter. They looked good together, to the point where several of the
spectators had noted the fact.

  The limo door opened from the outside. Chris saw a row of people waiting for them, including Martine, Benny, and Robert Clancy. Robert “the Moneyman” Clancy. If Chris thought Nick had a near golden touch when it came to picking projects, Robert Clancy was Midas unleashed. Chris had hoped a senior producer would show but hadn’t dreamed of the senior executive man of the project.

  All of a sudden he was glad it was Sydney sitting beside him. They were waiting for him. This was it. All he needed was a couple minutes to set the stage. He pressed Sydney’s hand into the seat. “Would you prefer to wait in here or explore for a couple minutes?”

  “You’re not leaving me alone with those people, are you?”

  “I need to get changed.”

  “Why? You look fine.”

  “I’ve got to keep up with you, gorgeous.” God, she was cute when she blushed. His family would have a heyday teasing her. He was learning she gave as good as she got, but it didn’t stop the blushing. They’d love her. “You’d show me up horribly if we went out on the town tonight.”

  “I’m busy tonight. It’s the gala evening to wrap up fundraising,” she said quickly. “Not that you were asking me out or anything.”

  If this karma thing were real, maybe if he kept treating her right, she’d continue to reward him for it. “The day is still young.”

  She stared at him, like she couldn’t believe he was serious. He barely believed it himself, but he thought he meant it. He had to get out of the limo before he forgot while they were both there. “I’ll be right back.”

  He needed five to ten minutes to change, even though the fantastic Mr. Banks had stopped fifty feet from his trailer, and at least another five to schmooze with Clancy before he escorted Sydney to the set for her debut in her role of “proof Chris Peck could be a leading everyday guy”. He trusted his coworkers to do right by her. She’d do fine.

  Chapter 12

  I can do this. I can do this. Sydney thought she was speaking under her breath, but Chris’ sideways look told her otherwise. She pressed her lips together and continued the mantra in her head. I can do this. Then she realized it wasn’t optional. She could and would do this. It was exactly the same thing she’d be doing later, with fewer pictures and more strangers. This could be a practice run that wouldn’t cost her donations if she screwed up. This disaster of Chris’ making was a good thing. Sydney lifted her chin and forced her panicked grimace to morph into a genuine smile. She’d meet some people, shake some hands, maybe loosen some checkbooks. Just like she would tonight. No problem at all.

  Speaking of hands, Chris was holding hers again as he pulled her out of the back of the limo. She stepped toward the woman in the dress even as Chris was finishing the introductions.

  “Martine, this is Sydney Richardson, our Olympus grand prize winner who, despite having no notice at all about today’s events, has generously agreed to help us out. Syd, this is Martine Peeples, our public relations spokesperson—she has events like this down to an art, and is well aware of your timetable.”

  Sydney gave her a real handshake, not a wimpy finger squeeze, and the woman smiled. Then Sydney turned to the gentleman in the suit. “Are you one of the show’s producers?”

  It seemed logical, but when Chris almost swallowed his tongue, she realized she’d guessed wrong. This was one of the movie guys he was trying to impress. Before Chris had a chance to correct her, she forged ahead on her own. “Hello, I’m Sydney Richardson.”

  The gray-haired man in the black suit smiled. “I’m Robert Clancy. I am a producer but not one for the show. Can I steal Chris away for a minute or two?”

  Chris and the producer veered away to the trailers lined up beside the soundstage. Martine took her arm and steered her toward the soundstage. “Did Chris tell you what was going to happen?” the woman asked.

  Sydney nodded. “I’m getting my hair and makeup done, and then we’re meeting a couple of actors in the cast and taking some pictures.” That Greek god of hers had five minutes to reappear and rescue her or she was going to hunt him down like a dog.

  It turned out Martine was a genuinely nice, genuinely blonde California girl who went slightly overboard with the compliments as a thank you to Sydney for going along with the last minute schedule change. The poor woman had been frantic as she explained the notification mix-up. Sydney was trying to brush off the promised arrangements of flowers in apology when they arrived at a trailer marked “Hair/Makeup”.

  Whether she got here accidentally or not, Sydney had to admit that being on a studio lot was freaking cool. The trailer had head shots of all the Olympus stars and their assorted hairstyles. She recognized all the main actors and actresses, and she was stunned by the transformations in the photos. They became gods and goddesses in the very same chair she was sitting in.

  It only took a couple minutes to realize the real goddesses were the women who worked in the trailer. The makeup artist made her eyes look amazing, lips lush, and skin glow. Sydney outright giggled when the hair stylist went into raptures at her natural red hair. She ended up undoing the French braid and letting the waves fall loosely around Sydney’s shoulders, using only a handful of strategically placed bobby pins to style it. Hollywood magic was real and, damn, it made her look good.

  “Now we have another surprise for you,” Martine announced with a smile as Sydney met her at the bottom of the trailer steps.

  Sydney looked around, but her slave for the day was nowhere in sight. “Where’s Chris?” Getting made up like a glamour puss was one thing, but he promised she wouldn’t be on her own for the photo shoot and studio tour. She could do it on her own. She just didn’t want to. She liked Chris being around. Besides, this whole thing was so the two of them could appear together. Her doing it alone was kind of pointless.

  A handful of hard-bodied men and women in togas ran into the sound studio. Sydney pressed herself against the trailer to get out of their way. Hollywood was full of the unexpected.

  “He’s getting changed in his trailer. Why don’t we wait for him over at wardrobe?” Martine suggested.

  “That’s okay,” Sydney replied in a helpful tone. “We can pick him up on the way.”

  Martine looked ready to protest.

  “I insist,” Sydney continued. “After all, he’s the reason I’m here for the next ninety minutes.” She walked to the end of the trailer. “Which way is it?” Three years of working in the complaints department of a hospital’s call center taught her plenty of ways to change the direction of the conversation. She usually shifted it from getting screamed at to empathizing with the caller before getting down to the technical details of the call. At least today, the PR woman couldn’t yell.

  When Martine pointed left, Sydney smiled in thanks. “I’ve been afraid to look at your sweepstakes page. How does it look with Benny’s pictures? I know I don’t photograph very well. He’s been snapping away like crazy.” Now that she was walking, she could see the actors’ names on the doors. Chris’ was next.

  “The pictures are fine,” Martine assured her. “Benny has some good candid ones of the two of you. I love the ones with Chris walking the cat.”

  “Odin is very photogenic,” Sydney agreed with a snicker. “I thought Chris was going to have a conniption fit when he saw Polk and I offered him the pooper scooper.”

  Martine’s eyes got wide. Then she turned to Benny, who had appeared out of nowhere and was walking beside them. “He what? Tell me you got that shot!”

  Benny smirked. “Of course. It might have gotten buried in the comments though. People are going nuts on the sweepstakes page. We’ve had hundreds of Likes and retweets. That’s why I was coming to find you. They’re waiting for new ones. So what’s the game plan?”

  That’s what Sydney wanted to know. She checked her watch. If she gave herself forty-five minutes to get from the studio to Manhattan Beach, assuming she changed here, she’d have to leave at two. Forty-five minutes was a conservative drive-time
that gave her a slight window if she needed it. That left eighty-two minutes for Chris’ part of the deal. She went so far as to set the alarm on her wristwatch. They needed to get this photo shoot in gear. “Why don’t we ask Chris?” Sydney knocked on the trailer door with the “Zeus” sign.

  It opened immediately. But not by Chris. Nick Thurston—the god of war—was resplendent in a blinding white toga and golden laurels in his highlighted hair. He looked so good that Sydney forgot why she was knocking on the door. Right behind him was a hulking toga-clad man with auburn hair down to his shoulders. Eros, aka Sean Glenn. Part of her thought Chris had been messing with her when he said she’d be meeting some of his co-stars. She’d made a big enough fool out of herself when she’d met Chris. The taste of shoe leather was barely out of her mouth. Now this? Meeting the whole cast would turn her into a drooling mess.

  “Sydney, it’s nice to meet you,” Nick said.

  When he spoke her name, she was pretty sure her mouth started watering. She nodded hello to them. The make the talk thing with the speaking things was not good. Words, that’s what they were called. She forgot them all. So she nodded again.

  “Chris is almost done. He’ll be right out.”

  She was as stiff as a board when they stood beside her for a couple pictures. Yeah, Chris was a big television star, but he was a person. Nick was a movie star with movie star parents, and Sean had been a college basketball all-star at her parents’ alma mater before he went into show business. A girl could only handle so many gods at once.

  When the king of Olympus did arrive, Sydney touched her lips to make sure she wasn’t drooling. Chris had eschewed the classic Greek look and went with contemporary upper crust. His shirt cost more than her dress. She could cut herself on the creases of his pants. And Sydney was certain his loafers would pay her rent for at least two months. She wasn’t going to break her brain calculating the value of his cufflinks or watch. The sparkles coming from them indicated more carats than she had in her refrigerator crisper.

  Then she remembered she looked damn good too. Her dress wasn’t designer, but it was very nice. Her hair and makeup were almost good enough to make her look like she belonged.