Written in the Stars Series Collection

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Written in the Stars Series Collection Page 12

by L. L Hunter


  * * *

  We’ll keep you up to date on this intriguing new love triangle in the coming weeks.”

  * * *

  What the…” I glared bleary-eyed at the TV, having wanted something on in the background as I prepared dinner. This had become my routine while in L.A. Jack had promised he would cut down on work stuff and press so we could spend time together. He still had to film, though. So I stayed around the house, either Jack’s or mine. This was mainly because I was hiding from the press after the Golden Globes and the after party incident. And it didn’t matter where I turned, there was my face. Or Jack’s. Or Alexa’s. Or me and Alexa. It seemed every news program or publication was talking about the confrontation in the bathroom. And if it weren’t for the photo being leaked, no one would ever know what had gone down. I would probably take that secret to my grave. But it was out, and the whole world now saw me as Jack’s Aussie love interest, or the homewrecker, depending on whose side you were on Team Alexa or Team Chloe. Hollywood and its fans loved a good ‘ship’.

  Now I knew what Jack had to deal with. I turned off the TV and decided to put music on instead. Then I poured some wine and started cooking while I waited for Jack.

  Jack was also true to his word. He declined all offers of interviews or press, and all things ‘Hollywood’ for a few days, apart from the odd filming days. Instead, we spent the last few days together lying by the pool of his mansion, walking along the pier eating gelato hand in hand, driving up the coast of California in his Aston Martin, taking photos by the Golden Gate Bridge and explored the Red Wood Forest. At night, we dined in some of the restaurants off the Strip, or ordered Uber Eats and watched Netflix cuddled in bed together.

  And we ignored all media sources. Jack had told me the best thing to do when a scandal broke, was to wait it out. Soon, a new scandal would take its place, and the old one would be forgotten. That was how Hollywood worked.

  On my second to last night, while lying in bed beside Jack while he stroked my hair, Jack asked the question that had been the elephant in the room since I ran away at the after party.

  “So, what are you going to do once you get home?”

  I exhaled. “Honestly, I don’t know. Find another job, I think. Write another book.”

  “I thought you loved the job at the website?”

  “It was a job that would open doors for me, nothing more. I didn’t love making up stories about celebrities. I didn’t love lying for money. I felt like I was selling my soul and my dignity to the devil.” I sat up, suddenly realising something. “And oh, my God. I’m such a hypocrite!”

  “You’re not a hypocrite. Why do you think you are?” Jack tried reaching for me, pulling me back down to him, but I pushed his hands away.

  “No. I am a hypocrite. I’m a hypocrite because I said I didn’t want to sell myself out. I used to detest everything fake, and here I am doing anything just to make ends meet.”

  “Welcome to Hollywood, my dear.” He sat up and turned his hips so he faced me. “I get what you mean, though. I used to be the same. Before I made it here, before I got my first big break, my friends and I used to make fun of how fake this industry is and what it creates. But then I started making money and landing roles, I saw life from the other side of the lens, so to speak. I understood the need to sell your soul, get a fake tan, fake teeth and fake boobs well, not the latter. But you understand. This industry is dog-eat-dog. It’s hard. It’s really hard. And there are some days I wish I could run away. But I love movies. I’ve always loved movies. And I will continue to make movies for as long as people will pay to see them. Even if I have to sell my soul along the way. It will be worth it in the end.”

  I studied his face, his bangs that would sometimes fall over one eye, the five o’clock shadow he now sported, and the smattering of dark hairs on his chest. I watched the way his nose and eyes crinkled when he was thinking and when he laughed or smiled. I thought about those dimples I loved so much. And then I leaned forward, wrapped my arms around his neck, and touched my forehead to his.

  “That was so beautiful. You’re so beautiful,” I told him.

  “Wow. No one’s ever told me I was beautiful before.”

  “Shut up, you dork. I’ve realised something.”

  “What is that?”

  “That I love you, and I want you in my life.”

  “I love you too.” He kissed me, passionately but gentle, then pulled back. “God, I’m glad I followed you to the airport.”

  “I’m glad you did too. I can’t believe I did that. I can’t believe you did that!” I laughed.

  “I don’t know what I would have done. If you’d gotten on that plane.” He pulled me into his lap. I wrapped my legs around his hips and pushed my groin into his. He sucked in a breath.

  “I think you would have been okay.”

  “No, I don’t think I would be. I would have been lost without you. I’ve loved having you by my side these past few days, and it got me thinking, if you can get through one awards ceremony and a couple of interviews, then you can do anything. You can totally keep up with my lifestyle. That night on the Red Carpet, I knew.”

  “Knew what?”

  “I knew you were the one for me. But when you ran, and you told me this life wasn’t for you, and that you and I would never work, I must admit, I was gutted.”

  “I’m sorry I ran. It’s just that your ex made me feel all these things, and I knew I was a big fraud being there on your arm. I’m no actress. I’m just a writer from Sydney.”

  “My ex? You mean Alexa?” He laughed and snorted. “She’s not my ex. She’d love to be, but she and I never really dated. A rumour was started by Alexa herself as revenge. A few reporters and publications caught wind of it, and it soon went viral. So, Alexa flew with it and began to tell everyone we were together. Then my manager wanted to take it further. He contacted a couple of media companies and sold the story. The film was failing. It was a ploy to get more press. That’s all. It went too far.”

  I hid my face. “Um… I have a bit of a confession to make.”

  “Yeah?”

  “My work was one of the companies contacted. I was meant to write the story, but I… I couldn’t do it.”

  “Can I ask why?”

  “Because somehow, I knew it was most probably fake. There was something about the photo that wasn’t natural. Maybe it was the look in your eyes. I knew you didn’t want to go along with it, didn’t want to play. So, I declined it. I couldn’t lie. But after a while, when you’ve been lying for so long, the lies blend in with the truth. You should know that. I wanted to quit right then. But Susan offered me the reporting job at the premiere, and the rest is history.”

  Jack seemed to ponder this. “So, it wasn’t fate that threw us together. Our fates were written for us. Our parts. It’s like we’re two actors and the world’s our set.”

  “Yeah. That’s exactly how I feel.” I kissed him. “I’m going to quit. But not right now, though. Later.” I pushed him back, and we fell on the bed in a tangle of legs and arms. We made love into the early hours of the next morning.

  36

  I didn’t want to leave this time, but I had a few loose ends to tie up back home. So, a few days later, Jack dropped me at the airport, and after an emotional goodbye with lots of crying and hugging and kissing, I said goodbye to Hollywood, and to Jack.

  Temporarily, though.

  Even though I knew I loved him, I had some thinking to do. I wanted to be with Jack, I wanted him in my life, but I didn’t know how that would be possible with me in Sydney and him in L.A., but we would do the long distance thing for now.

  We would make it work.

  Somehow.

  The flight back to Sydney was extremely long, and I spent most of it watching movies or reading and sipping on wine and coffee. I was way too anxious to sleep. So naturally, I was exhausted by the time the plane touched down in Sydney.

  I spent the next few days catching up on sleep, social media an
d phone calls and emails.

  There was one email, in particular, that gave me pause.

  From: Lola

  To: Chloe

  * * *

  Hi Chloe,

  * * *

  I hope your adventures in L.A. are going well and you’re having a good time. I can’t wait to hear (and read) all about it soon!

  This is just an email to touch base and to give you some good news.

  I just wanted to let you know that your book, Woman in the Photograph, has gone into a second and third print run in Australia as well as the United States and that Blueberry Books in the UK have bought the print rights for Woman in the Photograph and its sequel, Man Amongst the Stars.

  I’m also excited to let you know that Red River Productions want to buy the rights and option Woman in the Photograph for film! They have contacts with some big studios. This means big bucks for both of us. So, I’ve attached the contracts for the print rights and the film rights below. As soon as you sign them and return them to me, I can organise for you to get paid.

  * * *

  Congratulations, Chloe. I look forward to hearing from you and to reading those book 2 pages!

  * * *

  Happy writing!

  Best,

  Lola.

  I read the email a couple of times over, and I didn’t know if it was my jetlagged brain or that I was dreaming, but, holy shit! A couple of days ago, I was ready to throw all of this away, but now I was excited about my future.

  I finally knew where I was heading.

  I quickly printed off the contracts, then brewed some coffee and sat back down at the computer.

  While the contracts were printing, I replied to Lola. My hands shook as I typed.

  From: Chloe

  To: Lola

  * * *

  Hi, Lola.

  * * *

  Sorry for the delay, but I’m now back in Sydney after my extended trip to L.A. So much has happened over the past week and a half that I’m still trying to process.

  So, give me a few days, and I’ll tell you all about it in those pages you’re so keenly waiting for.

  As for the contracts, I’ve printed them and am about to dive in and sign them over my second cup of coffee. (Jetlag. Yikes!). But wow! I can’t believe it. The print and films rights… to be honest, I was hesitant about this whole thing in the beginning. It all happened so fast. It made my head spin. But after spending some time in L.A. winding down after the Golden Globes, and spending time with Jack, I’ve had some time to think about my future.

  * * *

  I’m happy to let you know I want this, and I am all in.

  Let’s do this!

  * * *

  Kind regards,

  A very excited yet tired Chloe.

  I took a long sip of coffee and then retrieved the pages from the printer. I set them side by side on my writing desk before me and began to read.

  The first contract, for the print rights in the UK, was worth a ginormous six-figure sum that had my eyes bulging and heart racing. But the second contract, for the film rights, was worth a seven-figure sum that I just couldn’t fathom. I had never before in my life seen that much money. I read them both carefully, reading all the fine print, especially the film rights. I had heard horror stories about authors not being credited in the film or not being paid any of the royalties. But Lola and her team were thorough, and my contract made sure I would be paid and credited accordingly. I signed the pages that needed my signature and scanned and emailed them back. Then I slumped back in my chair and sighed. Holy shit.

  I was going to be filthy rich!

  37

  Over the next few days, I put my butt in my chair and my hands on the keyboard, and I typed. Lola gave me a generous deadline of two months to get the manuscript for book two to her. But I knew I was going to get it done in less time. I wrote from dawn until dusk every day, only taking breaks periodically to go to the bathroom, check my messages, or eat. Most nights I slept on the lounge in my living room and wrote from there too.

  One week after arriving back home, I received a phone call from Susan, my boss at the website. Crap! I had completely forgotten to get in contact with her! I was only supposed to be taking one week off, but it had now been almost a month since the premiere when I last saw her.

  “Hi, Susan. I’m so sorry I haven’t returned any of your messages. I’ve just been so busy since I got back from L.A., and the jetlag…”

  “Chloe, it’s not a problem. Listen, I’m just calling to check in with you. Are you okay?”

  “Yes. Yes. I’m great. I was going to call you, but I’ve been busy writing this book, and—”

  “That’s excellent news. I’ve been watching your posts on social media, but I know that’s only the tip of the iceberg. I wanted to get the real story.”

  What? Was she digging for an exclusive for a cover story? Or really checking up on me? What was her motive?

  “I’m fine. I just spent a few days longer in L.A. than originally planned. And I have a few things that have come up with my publisher. But the truth is…” This was it. Now was the time to give Susan the news I’ve been pondering for days. “Being with Jack has made me re-evaluate my life. He’s put everything in perspective. A few days ago, I was lost. But now I know where I want to be, and unfortunately, working at the website is not where I want to be.”

  There was a long pause on Susan’s end before she spoke.

  “That’s fine. I knew this was coming.”

  I hesitated. “So, you’re fine with this? If you’re not, I understand. I can hand in my notice and work for another two weeks…”

  “No, it’s okay. You don’t have to do that. Chloe, listen. When you first started, I knew this wasn’t really your thing. I knew you were hesitant in making up stories, spreading lies. I just want to tell you that I respect you for that. I respect your decision, and I just wanted to wish you all the best for the future.”

  “Thank you so much,” I said a little breathlessly. I was speechless.

  After hanging up, I continued writing until it grew dark in my window and the streetlights came on.

  I wrote for another hour before my stomach told me it was dinner time. So, I saved my work, closed my laptop, and headed to the kitchen. I felt like cooking tonight. Cooking made me relax and rewired my brain. The simple actions of chopping vegetables and ingredients for pizza were relaxing and helped me think in a way that was different from how I thought when I was writing. This way of thinking was effortless, and my thoughts often became clearer this way. It was the same when I showered. I poured myself a glass of wine and thought about everything that had happened over the past month.

  Working at the movie premiere, meeting Jack and being invited to the after party, having that intimate moment secretly captured on camera and revealed to the world, having to spill my deepest secrets to the world in the form of an exposé that turned into a book. Going to the Golden Globes and having all those interviews on famous TV chat shows. Spending time in L.A. chilling with Jack, then coming home to print deals and film deals, and then having my boss, the woman who opened the first door for me, who started this whole thing, telling me she understood and respected me with my decision to leave the website. I couldn’t believe this was my life. But I wasn’t dreaming. This was real.

  38

  HEADLINE ON SCREEN: Real life love affair or publicity stunt? Alexa Long shares her side of the story.

  * * *

  Title treatment: The Daily Breakfast Show, with Charles and Penny

  * * *

  (Wide shot of studio. Close up of Charles)

  * * *

  CHARLES: One month ago, an unknown Australian writer and a famous actor Jack Dean met at the premiere of his latest blockbuster. Sparks flew as the couple were spotted cozying up together at the after party. And then later, were caught retreating upstairs for an illicit affair. But was it all real? The writer, who we now know as Chloe Vanderbilt, a journalist for Sydney Show
biz News, was forced to reveal her story in a tell-all novel after a picture of the pair was leaked online. The very same woman who made up a story about me. It’s untrue, by the way.

  * * *

  PENNY: (glances at Charles for a moment, before looking at the camera) Sources close to the couple have told us they are in fact in love and that it is genuine.

  * * *

  CHARLES: I’ll leave you to draw your own conclusions from the novel. The book, Woman in the Photograph, is now available around the world and is already a bestseller. It is also soon to be a movie. We spoke to the lovebirds on the show a couple of weeks ago, but I am still not convinced.” (Charles Raymond deadpans and looks straight into the camera.) So, we asked Jack Dean’s ex-girlfriend, actress Alexa Long, for her side of the story. Alexa, welcome.

  * * *

  ALEXA: Thank you for having me (flicks her hair over her shoulder and puffs out her boobs.)

  * * *

  PENNY: Tell us what you know, Alexa.

  * * *

  ALEXA: It’s definitely fake.

  * * *

  CHARLES: Really?

  * * *

  PENNY: And why do you think that?

  * * *

  ALEXA: Because I know. Because Jack and I are still together. This whole thing is a big publicity stunt for the movie. Ratings and sales were down, so we had to do something. Jack and I were each asked to set up a series of photos. Mine was the one of him and me, but he went further and found this woman in Australia to make it look like he was cheating on me. Our managers and agents then contacted different media outlets to spread the rumours. It kinda worked. Until that woman, the one Jack was snapped with, wrote a book about it.

 

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