by Lindsey Kelk
His thumb traced my cheek, his fingers twisting themselves into my hair. His dark blue eyes found mine, searching them with something like a smile that just made it to the very corners of his mouth. I breathed out slowly, thinking what a good job it was that I hadn’t finished my burger, when my stomach did a triple somersault and my heart was catapulted to somewhere in my throat.
‘Well, I’d better let you go,’ I mumbled against his cool palm.
‘Sorry,’ James said, dropping his hand and his eyes. ‘I’d better let you go.’
This was absolutely, definitely going to be harder than I’d hoped, I thought as I staggered out of the restaurant. But maybe for completely different reasons than I had imagined.
Chapter Six
The short walk from The Roosevelt to The Hollywood was just enough time to convince myself that the whole cheek-stroking incident hadn’t actually happened. And if it had, it was just because, as I had expected, James Jacobs couldn’t communicate with a girl unless he was trying to get in her pants. Except it hadn’t been that way all day. Looks aside, he was exactly the opposite of what I had expected. He wasn’t arrogant, he wasn’t rude and, irritatingly for Angela Clark, interviewer extraordinaire, he didn’t seem to want to talk about himself at all. Hmm. I’d been completely ready to fall in love with his beautiful face and expecting to grit my teeth and tolerate him being a total arse, but I wasn’t at all prepared for him to be nice. Even nicer than nice maybe. I needed a drink.
Standing by the barrier in The Hollywood’s rooftop bar, mojito in hand, the big white letters nestling in the hills didn’t seem any more real than they did on Saturday. If living in New York was like walking into a living movie, arriving in LA was like walking onto the set. It all seemed slightly artificial, as though the sky and the hills and the Hollywood sign could just pull away to make way for a more successful city if this one didn’t test well. I leaned over the balcony, and tried to take it all in. Nope, still not buying it.
‘Hey, English. Where’s Lopez at?’
‘Hi Joe,’ I smiled as he leaned against the barrier, his tight black shirt pulling against his arms. I didn’t remember them being so massive, but I guessed that was one of the perks of shaking cocktails all day. Insta-biceps. ‘I’ve been out all day, no idea where she is.’
‘Yeah,’ he held his hand up to shield the sun out of his eyes. ‘Jenny said you were interviewing James Jacobs. How’s it going?’
He stroked my cheek and I think he was going to kiss me and I really wanted him to and that makes me a horrible person because I have a lovely boyfriend but he hasn’t called me or texted me and isn’t it OK anyway because he’s a movie star? I thought.
‘OK, I suppose,’ I said.
Joe snorted. ‘Guy’s a douche. I’d love to hear what shit he’s spinning you.’
‘No really.’ I was actually a little bit surprised. I didn’t know Joe well but he didn’t seem like the kind of person to be jealous. ‘He’s not like you’d think. Not like he is in all the magazines.’
‘Please, I don’t read that kind of trash.’ Joe turned around, resting his back against the barrier. ‘I’ve met him and I’m telling you, he’s an asshole.’
‘Really?’ I asked. ‘Where? When? What did he do?’
‘You’re like a proper reporter now, huh?’ Joe laughed. ‘Who, where, what, why, when? You really have changed, English.’
‘I don’t know about that,’ I said, resting the chilled glass against my forehead. ‘Still haven’t got a blind clue what I’m doing.’
‘You seem to be doing pretty good to me.’ Joe draped an arm over my shoulders and gave me a half-hug. ‘You’ve been here, what, six months? And from nowhere, here you are, interviewing douche-bags in Hollywood. And, I might add, looking totally hot. I bet Lopez is pissed that she gave you such a great makeover.’
‘Thank you?’ It seemed like at least half a compliment. ‘But I think Jenny’s safe. She’s totally incredible anyway. And so ridiculously gorgeous,’ I added, marking it up mentally to score some points with Jenny if she was still mad later on.
‘Yeah, Lopez has always had it. But living with her looks good on you,’ he squeezed my shoulder. ‘Hey, whatever happened with you and that guy in Brooklyn? Is that still through?’
‘Alex?’ I was surprised Joe remembered. He’d moved to LA about a month after Alex and I had failed miserably the first time around and I hadn’t mentioned his name once after he broke it off. ‘We actually got back together.’
‘Too bad.’ Joe held my gaze a second too long before I broke off to stare back out at the hills. What was going on today? Did I have an ‘I’m easy and desperate’ sign taped to my back? Or was my dress still tucked in my knickers?
‘So tell me how you know James. Did he stay here?’ I asked. I might not be an amazing interviewer but I was very experienced in changing the subject.
‘Nah, I’ve met him out a couple of times.’ Joe frowned. ‘Guy’s got an attitude. He’s just kinda off. Thinks he’s something special, I guess.’
‘That’s so weird.’ I couldn’t quite believe we were talking about the same person. ‘He’s been such a gentleman to me.’
‘Maybe he’s different with the ladies,’ Joe shrugged. ‘And that fag he hangs out with. What an ass.’
‘Blake might be a bit highly strung,’ I said tightly, ‘but I don’t see how his being gay makes him an ass.’
‘Don’t get me wrong,’ Joe held out his hands, ‘I got no issue with that, man. This is Hollywood, more than half the guys out here are gay. He’s just, well…He doesn’t play well with others.’
‘Why don’t you come out with us tonight?’ Two birds, one stone, I thought. Jenny will forgive me if I bring Joe and Joe gets to see that James isn’t, well, whatever he thinks he is. ‘We’re going to Teddy’s.’
‘With James Jacobs?’
‘And Jenny,’ I offered. ‘Come on, I’m sure we’ll hardly see James. He’s just going to get us in.’
‘I could have got you in,’ Joe sniffed.
‘Well, I’d really like it if you came. Jenny too,’ I said, squeezing his arm.
Joe paused, looked back at the bar he had been tending all day and then back at me. ‘What time?’
Since she’d blown back into my room around eight, Jenny had been in a much better mood than when we’d last spoke. But she hadn’t breathed a word about her whereabouts, waving me off with an insincere ‘just doing stuff’ in reply to any and all of my questions. Not too irritating. After what felt like a lifetime in the shower, she emerged a goddess, her masses of curls bouncing around her face like a halo, skin glowing with two days of sunshine and the most infectious smile I’d seen on her in months.
‘LA suits you then?’ I asked, as we jostled for space at the make-up mirror. I couldn’t help but feel as though she should have to apply her make-up blindfolded as a handicap. Where the sun had given her a golden sheen, the beach had left me blotchy and my hair was just an unmanageable mess.
‘I’d forgotten how much fun it was,’ she admitted. ‘Makes me feel like doing crazy stuff. Makes me feel—I don’t know—alive? Is that too cheesy?’
‘No. I know exactly how you feel,’ I said, sketching around my eyes with a jet-black Mac pencil. The aim was to draw attention away from my riotous mane and flaky nose. Not too big an ask, then. ‘Not about here, admittedly, but that’s how I feel about New York. Maybe you needed to get away, give yourself a bit of a kick-start.’
‘And now I need something else.’ She gave me a wink and started on her fourth coat of mascara. ‘Seriously, I know you can’t make a move on James Jacobs, but what’s the protocol on me taking him for a test drive? I’ll give you all the details. Now that would be an exclusive worth reading.’
‘Jenny,’ I warned, slipping into my new bright yellow Phillip Lim mini-dress. I’d hoped the sunshiny colour would lift me into an LA frame of mind. So far, all it had lifted was my credit limit, but it was beautiful. ‘I don’t think it’s th
e best idea you’ve ever had. What about Joe?’
‘What about Joe?’ She pulled on what I recognized immediately as her lucky dress. A beautiful red, purple and gold Alice + Olivia silk number with a deep V-neck slashed to an empire line. The crossed straps on the back emphasized her flawless tanned skin and tiny waist while the flared skirt whirled around her as she moved. My God, she meant business. ‘If I’m not totally mistaken, Joe had his chance already. You should always aim for the top, Angie. If you don’t believe you’re worth the best, why will anyone else?’
‘Oh dear, Oprah Lopez is back,’ I said, slicking on some clear lip gloss and hoping for the best. ‘You know I am just as keen as the next man for you to have some empty, meaningless, hopefully utterly demeaning sex, but does “the best” have to be the man I’m interviewing?’
‘Of course not,’ Jenny took my shoulders and looked at me closely, assessing my make-up. ‘I mean, if James knows Jake Gyllenhaal I’ll be more than happy to trade up.’
‘That so wouldn’t be trading up,’ I said quietly, taking the new lip gloss she held out. ‘James is definitely hotter than Jake. And nicer too, I bet. And a better actor.’
‘Uh-oh, someone has a crush,’ Jenny nodded at the peachy gloss. ‘And what does Alex think about you trading up?’
‘Please…’ I blushed. I was so happy that she was talking to me again, it just didn’t seem necessary to tell her about the cheek stroking. ‘Not even a movie star would be trading up from Alex. You can’t compare hotness with love, can you?’
‘Wait, he’s said he loves you?’ Jenny stopped in her nose-powdering tracks. ‘When did this happen and why am I only finding out now?’
‘Well, no,’ I admitted. ‘He still hasn’t actually said it. I just meant that I wouldn’t swap what we have for anything.’
‘Angie, I wish you would just pick up the phone and say it,’ Jenny said. ‘What are you waiting for? You can say it first, you know.’
‘I hate it when you flip into Oprah mode,’ I mumbled, slipping on my ever-ready Louboutins. How did a simple red sole transform a strappy gold sandal from ‘nice shoe’ to ‘spend-a-month’s-rent-on-me-and-I-will-complete-you’? Those shoes and I had been through a lot together, including breaking someone’s hand; and even though they should remind me of some not-so-good times, the effect they had on my legs was magical. And therefore they would always be forgiven everything.
‘So that’s it? You just don’t want to say it first?’ Jenny pressed on. I knew she wouldn’t rest until she got an answer. And the cow could always tell when I was lying.
‘No,’ I sighed, perching on the end of the bed to fasten my shoes. ‘I don’t want to say it first, OK?’
‘It’s more than OK,’ she said, sitting down next to me. ‘But really, I already know you love him, honey. Everyone knows. Erin knows, Vanessa knows, I think even Scottie in the diner knows. So I’m pretty certain Alex knows.’
‘His name isn’t Scottie,’ I sighed. ‘So you think I should say it?’
‘No, what I’m saying is, you wear your heart on your sleeve, Angie, and maybe this time you wait him out.’ Jenny combed my hair back off my face. ‘Let him do the running. If he loves you, he’ll say it.’
‘If.’ It was hours since we’d spoken and I was starting to get really annoyed that he hadn’t called back.
‘Anything else you want to tell me, doll?’ Jenny asked. ‘Because if he has done anything wrong—’
‘No, no.’ I breathed in deeply and stood up. ‘Just me being paranoid. He’s just been hard to get hold of the last couple of days. Come on, let’s go and get you some.’
‘Hell, yeah.’ She kicked on her sandals. ‘But he can’t say he wasn’t warned. If I see so much as a tear out of you because of him, I will kick his ass all the way across the Brooklyn Bridge.’
‘I’ll have to get you back to Brooklyn first,’ I said, linking arms and pulling her out of the room. ‘You seem awfully at home here.’
‘Well, let’s see how I get on with your movie star,’ Jenny said cheerfully. ‘I can always fly back in his private jet if I really have to.’
Joe was waiting in reception, propped against the desk in tight black jeans and second-skin grey T-shirt, artfully stretched at the deep V-neck. He was clearly taking his rivalry with James very seriously. Even if James didn’t know anything about it. Jenny literally leapt out of the lift and scooted over, curling herself into the crook of his arm, her dreams of private jets and Malibu mansions forgotten for at least the length of time it took us to walk from reception to James’s waiting car outside.
I wasn’t sure whether to be happy or not, but he’d swapped the Hummer for the limo, much to Jenny’s delight. But nothing could compare to the look on her face once she was safely positioned between a slightly terrified-looking James and a slightly territorial-looking Joe. I hopped in next to Blake for the five-minute ride down to The Roosevelt, trying to pretend the awkward moments with both James and Joe had not happened. Trying and failing.
‘How come we have to drive five minutes down the road?’ I asked after the introductions were done. ‘It’s not terribly environmentally friendly, is it?’
‘Want to see what happens when I hang around Hollywood Boulevard at eleven at night?’ James asked, pressing the button to let down the blacked-out window. ‘Hi ladies,’ he called at a group of girls hovering outside Gap.
‘Omigod, are you…?’ The tall brunette closest to the limo dropped her drink, spilling Coke all over the pavement.
They peered inside at James and, honestly, even if he hadn’t been a megastar, I don’t think I would have been able to keep it together. His tight black shirt stretched over his ‘just finished a movie’ six-pack and his loose, straight-cut jeans couldn’t conceal his fantastic thighs. And even though he was sitting on it, I’d already had a sneak peek at his backside when he climbed across the limo seat. Not that I was looking.
‘Yeah, James Jacobs,’ he nodded, holding up a hand in a short wave. ‘Have a great evening.’
All three of the girls paled and stood open-mouthed for a split second as James buzzed the window back up. Then they broke out into an ear-piercing, glass-shattering scream. Before I could lean back into my seat, they were on the car. Actually on it.
‘Enough games, James?’ Blake sighed, as the limo began to move at a crawl, leaving the girls behind us. ‘This is all going to end up in her freaking magazine. Is that what you want?’
‘Does that happen everywhere you go?’ I asked, staring back at the girls standing in the middle of the street, clutching at each other just to stay vertical.
‘More or less everywhere,’ James laughed. ‘You didn’t notice it today?’
‘Only in the restaurant,’ I said, thinking back over the day. It was quite possible that people had been collapsing left, right and centre, but I had been so busy trying not to fall in love with James myself that my own mother could probably have passed out in front of us and I wouldn’t have noticed. ‘Wow. That must be a nightmare.’
‘You learn to live with it,’ he said, smiling at Jenny, who had been silent (for the first time in her life) for the whole journey but sat staring at James with the most ridiculous grin I had ever seen etched into her face. Joe, however, had a face like thunder. Maybe this wasn’t my best idea ever. ‘Shall we go in?’
Teddy’s really was fun, if not completely surreal. Like the rest of The Roosevelt, it was gloriously old Hollywood, and wandering through the darkened bar, past the subdued booths lined with wine-coloured velvet and mahogany-coloured people, I felt just like Elizabeth Taylor. If Elizabeth Taylor had been incredibly self-conscious about weighing at least as much as two of every other woman in the room. Whilst having to restrain her best friend from physically attacking every man in the room. But then maybe Elizabeth Taylor did have to do that, how would I know?
‘Jesus, Angie, I think I’ve died and gone to heaven,’ Jenny whispered as we were escorted through to a VIP table. ‘This is totally wher
e I belong.’
‘Well, don’t rely on me hanging out with you when you’re here,’ I whispered back. ‘I feel like someone stuffed an Olsen twin down my dress. How thin are these girls? And I think Joe is going to deck James. Or Blake. Or both.’
Despite James’s attempt at conversation, Joe had maintained an impressive stony silence, except for when he was addressed by me or Jenny. Plus he and Blake had been exchanging stares ever since we got in the limo and it had only got worse since we arrived at the club.
‘So, Joe,’ I started with my quickly formulated plan of distraction. ‘Do you come here a lot?’
‘Mmmm,’ Joe nodded, swirling the beer he had insisted on buying himself at the bar, ‘with some of the guys from the hotel. And you know, sometimes I model a little. I actually did a job at the Tropicana a couple of weeks ago, the roof bar here.’ He sat down in between me and Jenny, sliding an arm around each of us. It might have looked casual, but the firm grip on my shoulder said it was anything but.
Jenny idly caught his fingers and entwined them with her own, even though her eyes were firmly locked on James. I was working extra hard at not making eye contact with anyone other than myself in the mirror behind the bar. And someone that looked just Kristen Stewart. Oh. And Kristen Stewart.
‘Have you ever thought about acting?’ James asked, pouring everyone a generous measure of vodka from the bottle that had just been brought to our table.
‘Whatever,’ Joe replied, looking away. ‘Modelling is one thing but dancing around in tights for a living? I don’t think so.’
‘Hey,’ Blake turned sharply.
James laughed, seemingly oblivious to Joe’s enormous attitude problem. ‘It’s just one of the perils of superhero movies. But you know what, tights are surprisingly comfortable. You do get used to them.’
‘Tights, really?’ Jenny mooned, dropping Joe’s hand and giving James’s knee a quick squeeze. ‘Are you wearing them now?’
‘Seriously?’ Joe narrowed his eyes at Jenny as she let out her most impressive flirty laugh. ‘Everyone knows actors are just delusional egotists. They all end up in rehab sooner or later.’