Celebrity

by De Ross, Melinda

  And speaking of finances, I needed to start writing again. A million dollars didn’t seem all that much once you started spending it like mad. It was all for a good cause of course. My dream home was closer and closer to being finished, but so was the money. I tried not to panic, knowing once the movie was launched, I would get more money. I had even sketched some ideas for a sequel script, but hadn’t had the time or energy to write anything yet. However, I had to put an even bigger rush on things.

  On Friday morning I packed all of my things and checked out of the motel. I owned three times as much stuff as I’d had when I moved here from Chicago. I piled everything into my car, and went searching for the only article I urgently needed to move into my new home: a bed.

  I had spent the past few days browsing through home decor magazines, and had a pretty good idea what I wanted in terms of furniture and appliances. I was going with simple again, mixing dark brown with creamy white. Vanilla and chocolate. In fact, after lots of measurements and ripped up drawings, I had finally ordered most of the items I wanted. They would be delivered within ten to fourteen days, all of them being custom made. It was lucky I hadn’t ordered a bed for the master bedroom, because now I had the chance to go and choose it right away.

  I drove to the same furniture store from where I’d ordered the rest of the stuff, careful to leave my car in a secured parking lot, even if it was a block away from the store. I enjoyed walking in the sun. From all of the outdoors work I’d done, I acquired a golden tan during the past weeks, even if it was patchy because of my clothes. Now that the hardest part of renovating was over, I planned to take the weekends off to sunbathe on the beach.

  The furniture store was enormous. I walked at least a mile among tons of wood, leather and glass before I saw it. The king-sized bed I’d always wanted, with a simple headboard covered in butter-colored leather. Five people could easily fit in it. I hastily took the paper with the bedroom measurements out of my bag, afraid such a massive bed wouldn’t fit in the room. To my relief, I discovered it would, with some minor adjustments.

  I mentally moved the dressing table I’d imagined in one corner of the bedroom, and eliminated the two armchairs I’d wanted. Who needed armchairs in a bedroom anyway? I could put them in the living room, along with the couch and bookshelves I’d ordered. Whatever it took, I had to have this bed. I placed a hand on it to test the mattress, suppressing the need to caress it. Perfect. An image of Blake and me naked, rolling all over this bed, made my cheeks heat.

  I turned to the clerk, who had followed me all over the store.

  “Can you deliver this to my house in Malibu today? It’s urgent.”

  “Yes, of course,” she said, smiling brightly. Too brightly.

  I looked for a price tag on the bed, but there wasn’t one. Although I was afraid to ask, I had to.

  “How much is it, by the way?”

  I suppressed a wince when she told me the price. For that money, they would have surely delivered it to Mars. I took a deep breath, wishing I’d saved some of the marijuana in my backyard. After I glanced once more at the bed, I nodded to the clerk. It was definitely worth it. I didn’t buy a bed every day, for Heaven’s sake!

  “Okay, let me give you the address.”

  She jotted it down, then I handed her my credit card. It wasn’t exactly painful, but I did allow myself a single sob a few minutes later, as I walked to retrieve my car. I pushed my sunglasses higher on my nose and drove to Malibu in a blaze of sunlight.

  When I finally reached my house, I slowed down and just gazed at it. My heart swelled with pride as I let the car roll slowly past the gates, which were almost always open. The lane of new gray stone gleamed in the sunlight, shaded here and there by the freshly-planted evergreens. We had finished painting the exterior of the house yesterday. Confirming my initial instincts, the dark, rich red made a fabulous combination with the purple wisteria blooms and the green leaves that meandered gracefully along the walls. Amethyst and emerald, I thought once more, as I approached and the matching flower beds came into view.

  The house didn’t have a garage, but the driveway was a two-car one, with room to spare. The right side was lined with the men’s trucks, only two now that the work was almost finished. I eased the Rover on the left, at the edge of the lawn, which was bordered by a row of crushed gray stone.

  When I walked into the house, I found Harvey on a ladder in the hallway. Apparently he was installing the last of the three delicate ceiling lamps.

  “Wow! These look amazing,” I said, looking up at the beige, round, simple glass covers.

  “Yep. This is the last one,” Harvey said, climbing down with a small grunt. “I’ve finished with the rest of the house. Let’s see how it looks.”

  He pressed the switch next to the front door, and the interior was bathed in warm light.

  “Wonderful!” I clapped my hands, then leaned over and gave Harvey a kiss on his scratchy cheek. “I can’t thank you enough, Harvey. You and the guys did an extraordinary job, in less than half the time I’d estimated.”

  He flushed to the roots of his thinning hair.

  “We just did what we were paid to do, Miss Kendra. This is a hell of a house. Looking at it now, I almost can’t believe this is the same wreck we started fixin’ a month ago.” He scratched his chin, throwing me a glance that held a tinge of disapproval. “Jim has just finished installing the other two commodes in the upstairs bathrooms.”

  I ignored his sarcastic smirk. All the men had sniggered mercilessly over my lilac toilets—which, by the way, hadn’t been easy to come by. However, in California no dream is ever too big, not even purple Johns. It was my house, and I liked them.

  I rushed upstairs, grinning widely as I went from one bathroom to the other. They were both lavender dreams, identical to the one downstairs, down to the pale-lilac tubs.

  “My babies,” I said, stroking one of the toilets, as a tear rolled down my cheek.

  Jim cleared his throat behind me. Clearly trying hard not to laugh.

  “I guess to some people it can be a joy to have three purple crappers in the house,” he remarked dryly.

  “You have no idea. Tonight I’m moving in here.”

  I got to my feet dreamily.

  “Um, you have no furniture, other than the infamous... I mean wonderful toilets,” Harvey pointed out. “Unless you plan to sleep in one of the tubs...”

  “I’m expecting a bed later today,” I informed him, watching both men down my nose. “It cost more than all of the other furnishings put together, so it must be magical. I’ll sleep like a baby on it. I don’t need much else, and the rest of the stuff is supposed to arrive next week anyway. I’m sick of that motel. Besides,” I added from the corner of my mouth, “I can’t afford it anymore. This house sucks money greedier than a leech.”

  “Can’t argue with you there,” said Harvey. “Good thing we’re almost done. Tom is in the backyard, said he had some trimming to finish. “I guess we’ll take a few days break until the furniture and appliances arrive.”

  “I guess so.” I turned to them. “Thanks, guys. I’ll be in touch when the rest of the stuff arrives. In the meantime, let’s all get some rest.”

  “Amen to that. Enjoy your first night here, Miss Kendra,” Jim said before they both left.

  An hour later, my bed arrived. Tom had packed up and gone as well, but the four delivery boys from the furniture store managed to install the enormous bed in the master bedroom without even scratching a wall.

  After they departed contentedly with sore backs but large tips, I was completely alone for the first time in my home. I was left with the smell of fresh paint, the silence interrupted only by birds chirping gaily outside the windows, the smell of varnished wood and new beginnings.

  I stretched on the massive mattress, not caring I had no sheets and no pillow. I just lay with my eyes closed, letting the unique feeling of complete joy fill me.

  ****

  I’m not sure at what point
I dozed off, but I was sleeping quite deeply when my phone started vibrating in my pocket, with the familiar Donald Duck quack.

  “Christ, I need to change this tune,” I muttered, fumbling for the phone.

  “Hey, pretty girl,” said Danny. “How are you?”

  I rubbed a hand over my face, trying to force my brain and voice awake.

  “I was taking a nap in my new bed.”

  “You have a bed already? I thought your furniture wouldn’t arrive for at least one more week.”

  “It won’t. I checked out of the motel and moved into my new house. And since I don’t fancy sleeping on the floor, I bought a bed today. I paid more for it than I would for a small apartment, but... it’s worth it,” I said on a sigh.

  “Really? I can’t wait to see it.” The insinuation in his voice made me plow my fingers through my hair. This flirting was getting way out of line.

  “I’m afraid the house isn’t ready for visitors yet,” I replied, struggling for a tactful approach. “This is the only furniture I have. In fact, I need to go and buy some necessities before nightfall.”

  “Before you do that, I have some news that might make your night even better. Five Star Books want to buy the rights to your two novels. They offer five year contracts, 40% royalties and a nice five figure advance for each one.”

  I sat up abruptly. “No shit?”

  “Nope. Are you interested?”

  His smug enthusiasm was contagious.

  “Where do I sign?” I asked, doing a happy dance on my belly. I probably resembled a dying fish flopping around on shore, but nothing could shadow my elation.

  “I’ll come over tomorrow and bring you the contracts,” he offered.

  “Sure,” I said, then I remembered tomorrow I had a date with Blake. “Actually,” I amended quickly, “I’d rather drop by your office. I still have some shopping to do, and the house is a mess, with the workers and all.”

  No matter how much I hated lying, there were times when it couldn’t be avoided. I knew that if we were to be alone again, Danny would continue his advances. I was aware for some time that our partnership was coming to an end soon. I might have encouraged him that one time, after the breakup with Richard was fresh in my vulnerable heart, but since then I’d said no several times, yet Danny refused to take the hints. If he came on to me one more time, I was determined to end our agreement.

  The tone of sulkiness in his reply strengthened my resolve.

  “Sure, I didn’t mean to be an annoying, uninvited guest.”

  I took a deep breath and one more shot at diplomacy.

  “It’s really not like that. We would simply be more comfortable in your office rather than here, among hammering noises and constructors jargon. Sailors could come and take lessons from the men who work for me.”

  My joke worked, because when we set an appointment for 1 o’clock the next day and said goodbye, he sounded pacified.

  I put down the phone and sat on the edge of the bed, plowing my fingers through my hair. Although things between Danny and I had the potential of becoming tense, he’d done a good job as my agent, profitable for both of us. And this latest news was a gift from God. A five figure advance and good royalties, which would provide me a steady—if not spectacular—income for the next five years. Not to mention that Five Star Books was one of the biggest publishers on the market. If I decided to write more novels, they would surely be interested in publishing them.

  Flooded with a burst of energy, I jumped to my feet, grabbed my purse and rushed out of the house, locking the door behind me. I had some shopping to do.

  One of the good things about living in Malibu is that it’s small. Within five minutes I was parking in one of Malibu’s largest shopping centers, where one could buy everything. An hour later, when I was heading toward check out, my shopping cart resembled a precariously balanced mountain. I had bought only essentials, but somehow they had piled up quickly: sheets, pillows, blankets, a bedside lamp, a coffee maker, an arsenal of bug repellents, and a lot of scented candles. I’d also picked up some canned food, a can opener, bottled water, two pink coffee mugs, and five packages of cookies. Maybe the latter was a bit over the top, but I always tended to over-shop when I was starving—as was the case now.

  On my way out, I had to pass the electronic and gadgets sector. There were at least two dozen TV screens of all sizes lined up on the large display shelves. As I said, I wasn’t much of a television fan, but when I saw Blake’s face adorning all the different-sized screens, I stopped dead, gaping. God, he was so gorgeous! I recognized the movie too, it was the one where he brilliantly played Gatsby. How could I not buy an HD TV that managed to capture almost to perfection the fabulous shade of his eyes?

  It’s funny how easily one gets accustomed to spending large quantities of money, and how hard it is to do without it. Two months ago I was scraping together small bills to pay my rent, and now here I was, having spent more than half a million dollars. Well, better enjoy it while it lasts, I thought with a shrug and took my credit card out of my wallet.

  I paid for my purchases and arranged to have the flat screen delivered to my house the next day. I made one more stop at one of the fast food restaurants in the shopping district, to order a double cheeseburger with fries and onion rings. I deserved the rich, greasy takeout meal for my first night in my new home.

  As I drove back to that new home, I noticed how the moonlight lent the windows and roof a pearly gleam. The house and garden seemed a surreal, moon-kissed land of magic and enchantment. I could have gazed at it for an eternity, sitting dreamily on the hood of my car, inhaling the dizzying scent of flowers and summer night. The sound of cricket chirping didn’t disrupt the quiet, only added to the spellbinding beauty of it. When I thought about my future here, my heart vibrated with joy. Started from a dilapidated skeleton, baptized with sweat, and sometimes tears, this was truly my place now. I had made it mine.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Saturday started with butterflies and sunshine. First, it was the butterflies in my stomach that woke me from a marvelous sleep, in my fantastic new bed. I didn’t have any curtains or sunshades yet, but even the sting of the sunlight in my eyes made me smile. Tonight I had a date with Blake. I knew I was going to obsess all day over the phone, waiting for him to call me, and over what I was going to wear. But for now I just turned onto my belly and stretched luxuriously, feeling more rested than I had in months.

  I shuffled to the kitchen, deliberately stroking the shiny, polished floors with the soles of my bare feet. However weird it was, the touch was almost sensual. The coffee maker sat on the kitchen floor, all alone in the sunny place. I plugged it in and started to make some coffee, with one of my pink mugs waiting patiently to be filled. When the scent of fresh coffee began to caress my nostrils, I inhaled deeply, exhaling with a heartfelt sigh.

  Mug in hand, I walked outside. I took a few minutes to admire my veranda. Maybe it wasn’t all that practical to put a divan here, considering the insects, the dampness of rainy days, and so on. But so what? I’d done plenty of reckless things lately.

  “I’m gonna live dangerously. I’ll buy a damned divan, with a dozen embroidered silk cushions,” I said to myself as I walked down the steps.

  The grass was incredibly soft, still damp with dew. It was an exquisite feeling to walk barefoot among the flower beds, which sparkled like gems where the morning tears shone on their petals. The house faced East, so when I walked around it, I saw the backyard was still in shadow. The air and ground were cooler here, which was a blessing in the beginning of a hot July. I sat down on the grass, at the base of a solid tree, supporting my back against it and sipping my coffee. I realized I’d never taken the time to enjoy nature as much as I wanted. Now I was wallowing in it. The black cotton shorts and tee I wore left most of my skin bare, and I shamelessly rubbed it against the grass. I even loved the roughness of the tree bark on my back. And if I looked ridiculous, there was no one around to see me, I thought, cl
osing my eyes to better appreciate the smell of earth and plants.

  Actually, there was. When I felt a light flutter somewhere in the vicinity of my knee, I opened my eyes slowly. The butterfly was one of the most magnificent specimens I’d ever seen—a glorious, iridescent shape resting on my knee, graceful wings stroked by the morning breeze. It was perhaps half the size of my palm, beautifully colored in shades of orange and black, with an intricate pattern of deep blue on the edges of its wings. I stared at it in fascination, barely breathing, so as not to break this magical moment. I wished I could touch the fragile wings, to cup the butterfly in my palm, to find a way to express my admiration and love for the amazing beauty of all things in nature.

  In the next moment though, the spell was broken. Tickled by the tiny antennas, I must have twitched involuntarily. To me it would have been an imperceptible ripple of my skin, but it must have bothered my companion, because he took off with a regal battering of wings, losing itself in the landscape.

  “Bye,” I whispered, not feeling at all stupid for talking to a butterfly. In fact, it felt as though I’d just met a soul mate.

  ****

  As promised, I took some photos of the house and grounds, then sent them to my mom and dad via email, along with a sketchy account of the week’s activity, culminating with the news about the publishing contracts. It was a habit I’d adopted, and even though we had video chats when time and the hour difference permitted, I never failed to email them. I missed them a lot and hoped they would visit me soon.

  Since it was too early to drive to L.A., I ate a ham and cheese sandwich, then decided to scout the beach. Incredibly, I hadn’t yet seen any of the famous Malibu beaches, lost in work as I had been during the past weeks. I put on a new black bikini, covered it with denim shorts and a T-shirt, then stuffed a beach towel and other paraphernalia into a canvas bag. With my feet tucked into flip-flops, I set off for the Paradise Cove Beach.