Starlit: A Novel

by Lisa Rinna

She was very apologetic about everything, but she was not above pointing out that the audition had somehow missed his radar. “I know I owe you a lot, Steve. And of course, I still want you to manage me. But the way I see it, an actor needs to take any and every opportunity that comes her way, no matter where it comes from.”

  “Well, of course.” He nodded vigorously. “With Josh in the picture, I can start taking care of the details. You’ll be shocked at how many there are.”

  Clearly relieved that he understood, Tally stood up to leave. Impulsively, she leaned over Steve’s desk and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

  Yep, it was the beginning of the end.

  “Way to go, babe.” Josh parked himself on the corner of Sadie’s desk. “So, when do I meet my new client? Tally—what was her last name again? Johnson?”

  Sadie laughed. “Jones. Gosh, I hope you don’t forget it when you meet her. She should be here within the hour. She can’t wait to sign that contract.”

  “I don’t blame her. Hey, is she your new roommate? You know, the one with the big tits?”

  Sadie’s face turned deep red. “No, smartass. That’s Mandy. But you can rep her, too, if you’d like. She’d be honored.”

  “Ha! Yeah, I’ll bet! With headlights like hers, she should troll for roles on the other side of the hill, in the Valley. If she gets big enough there, we can mainstream her. You know, make her the next Jenna Jameson.”

  “Jeez, Josh! Don’t say that about Mandy. She’s a classically trained actress.”

  “Oh, really? Does she call the right one Rosencrantz and the left one Guildenstern? Because that’s as close as she’s ever going to get to Shakespeare, unless someone’s producing Juliet Does Dallas.”

  Sadie swatted him off her desk. “You’re so disgusting! Look, I still have to make those last few changes to Tally’s contract, so why don’t you get back to work, so I can, too?”

  “You know you love it when I talk dirty. Just admit it.” Josh gave her a lopsided grin. “Seriously, though, don’t you think we should celebrate our new account? Go ahead and make us reservations at Dan Tana’s. Say, nineish.”

  Sadie nodded nonchalantly and waited until he’d gone into his office before picking up the phone. She didn’t want it to be too obvious to Josh that she was thrilled he’d asked her out.

  Or had he? Is this an official date, or is it just Josh’s way of fighting off his loneliness? she wondered. Does it really matter? When she really considered the question, she knew the answer was no. She was falling in love with him, and to her, that was all that mattered.

  By the time Mandy made it to the Dana Point audition, the role had already been cast.

  “Sorry,” the receptionist murmured. She seemed mesmerized by Mandy’s chest. Nothing new there. Mandy was getting used to the stares. “We called your agent. We presumed he would have passed along the message.”

  Mandy nodded. She couldn’t tell the woman that her cell-phone service had been cut off the day before. That was OK with her, though—she was tired of getting calls from the credit-card collection agencies, anyway.

  She prayed she’d make it back to the parking meter before she got a ticket. When she’d parked, she hadn’t had time to rummage through her purse for any quarters before the audition. She stuck her hand in her purse now to see if indeed she had a few quarters left to her name. No coins appeared; instead, she came up with Jerry Conover’s business card.

  She stared down at it for what felt like a long time. She’d never thought of herself as a prude; she certainly enjoyed sex, and lately she’d loved the lust she saw in the eyes of men who passed her walking down the street. Who says porn has to be raunchy, anyway? she thought. Great acting could bring it to a whole different level.

  She looked down at her car’s gas meter. Only a quarter of a tank left, just barely enough to get her to Chatsworth.

  She had to pay her bills somehow. If it meant being an extra in a porn flick or two, well, so be it. Who watched those things, anyway?

  Traffic was hellish all the way out to the Valley. When she finally arrived at her destination, she discovered that Dandy Candy Productions was located in a nondescript low-rise office building. This isn’t so bad, Mandy thought. And the parking is free, so that’s a plus.

  The offices were elegant inside. And busy. The receptionist, a pert girl in short-shorts and a cropped T-shirt that rode up to the base of her high, perky breasts, seemed tethered to her headset. She motioned for Mandy to fill out a form on a clipboard. Just what I need, an audition in which I’ll be dissed by some porn director.

  She was still filling out her audition information sheet when Jerry strolled through the reception area. Seeing her, he stopped short. “Great! You made it.”

  “Yeah. Um, look, Jerry, do I have to audition?”

  He smiled. “We’re all cool here. Why don’t I show you the setup?”

  Relieved, she put down the clipboard and followed him down a hall lined with double doors. Over each set of doors was a light fixture; a couple of the lights glowed red. He pointed up to them and said, “We’re filming in those studios.”

  “How many studios do you have?”

  “Eight total. Four here and four in the west wing.”

  “Wow, you have two whole wings?”

  “Porn is big business, Mandy. But we’re different from the other companies in that we like to do it tastefully.”

  Tastefully. She liked the sound of that.

  “We can take a peek through one of the viewing rooms if you’d like.” He motioned for her to follow him through a side door.

  What she saw made her blush: a naked man, down on his knees in front of a woman in an ass-grazing sheer red negligee. Behind them was a heart-shaped bed with a tall headboard. In front of them, three cameras, all at different heights, were following the action from every possible angle. It was obvious that the man—the actor?—was going down on his scene partner.

  Jerry tapped her lightly on the shoulder. “Would you like a drink?” He held out a glass of wine.

  Figuring that if she was going to actually do this, she’d certainly need some liquid courage, Mandy said, “Sure, thanks.”

  As she gulped her wine, she grew more fascinated with the actor’s technique. At least, she thought it was his skill that was making the actress moan with such pleasure. As he burrowed deep inside her, one of his hands meandered up toward her mountainous breasts, which had somehow made it out of the thin, low-cut shell of her negligee. The actor stroked one of her nipples until it stood up.

  Mandy’s breasts responded, too, just watching the scene. Wow, I guess these films really are a turn-on.

  Mandy didn’t remember Jerry refilling her glass, but she was grateful that he had.

  “Why don’t you get undressed? You’ll have to eventually.” He grinned knowingly at her.

  She paused for a second, then slowly unbuttoned her blouse and stepped out of her skirt. Jerry scrutinized her as she stood there in her bra, panties, and heels.

  “Nice. You’ve got a rockin’ bod. Believe me, I’d know,” he murmured. “Whattaya say I introduce you to your cast mates?”

  She blushed. “But—but I don’t know my lines! And what’s my motivation?”

  He walked over to her and stood close—really close. “Do you mind?” He didn’t wait for her to nod before he unclasped her bra, which fell to the floor. She wondered whether or not she should pick it up but decided not to. It was a good decision, because just then, Jerry leaned into her, and odds were they would have bumped heads.

  Gently, he cupped her breast in his hand. She responded with a shiver. He stroked it for a bit, then let his hand roam to the flat part of her stomach. He didn’t stop until he reached her panties.

  “I’d say you’re motivated, wouldn’t you?”

  She laughed. “Um … yeah. I guess you’re right.”

  “If you need a plot, the one they’re shooting is simple enough. He’s the boy next door, who came over to borrow a cup of suga
r. He’s getting more than he bargained for. Then again, so is she. Otherwise, it’s all improv. Think you can wing it?”

  “Sure, that sounds simple enough.”

  He took her hand and pulled her into the studio with him. When he yelled, “Cut!” the cameramen stopped rolling.

  He walked Mandy over to the bed. “Frankie, Celia, this is Mandy. Frankie, I want to see how she does in your capable hands. Celia, you can take a break for now. Oh, and toss Mandy your nightie, will you?”

  Celia nodded. She lifted the negligee over her head and held it out to Mandy, but she had to clear her throat to get Mandy’s attention. Mandy was too busy staring at the one thing she couldn’t see when Frankie had his back to her: his penis. It was the largest she’d ever seen.

  She slipped on the negligee as Frankie smiled proudly. He knew he’d impressed her. Then, very gently, he pulled her down onto the bed with him.

  She did nothing as he stroked her face. In due time, his hands wandered over her breasts, and he sucked on one until the nipple poked straight out of her nightie. Satisfied with the results, his hand trailed further down her body, until it was between her legs, and then inside her. She arched up and moaned.

  He took that as permission to slip off her panties and plunge deeper and deeper. Then, without missing a beat, his fingers were replaced by his cock.

  She squealed when it entered her. At first it hurt, but soon it felt so goooood. When she climaxed, she wasn’t acting. The second and third orgasms were real, too.

  Eventually, somewhere in her dulled consciousness, she heard Jerry yell, “Cut!” The cast and crew were suddenly animated—laughing, talking, and, best yet, complimenting her for her authenticity. And for her tits.

  One of the cameramen turned to Jerry and said, “They looked great on camera. I got in close when he was sucking one. You should see her face, too.”

  It suddenly hit Mandy that she hadn’t uttered one line of dialogue except for all the dirty talk that came out of her mouth when Freddie entered her. Talk about improv!

  “You’ll be sore tomorrow,” Jerry warned. “We shoot again on Friday. Freddie plays a fireman, and he saves the damsel in distress. What do you say, are you in?”

  Mandy nodded.

  And to think I get paid for this!

  Chapter 10

  EVERY MORNING BY seven, Dana Point’s hair and makeup trailer was a beehive of activity. In the two months since she’d gotten the role as Jamie, Tally had learned to show up there early. Not because she wanted to be first in line to get prettied up but because she loved watching the hustle and bustle that went along with making the show.

  The set was a village in miniature. Besides the show runner, Chase Bracken, there were nine other writers who shaped the twenty-four-episode season, and each episode was helmed by one of the show’s five directors. Dana Point’s cast included eight stars and eight costars and myriad support players and guest stars. Any given episode could have as many as thirty actors on the set, plus an army of a hundred or more crew members.

  In the skilled hands of Conrad, who headed up the three-person makeup department, and Garfield, who oversaw two other hairstylists, a certain magic took place in the hair and makeup trailer. All it took was the right pancake base, wig, or lipstick shade to transform the actors—all just ordinary people like herself—into characters known and loved by millions of fans.

  It was also the prime venue for the kind of drama that comes with having fifteen or so neurotic, high-strung, and (for the most part) egocentric lead actors, all of whom want their fair share of the hourlong dramatic series’ limited airtime: just forty-four minutes for each episode, to be exact. With such a large ensemble cast, obviously not every lead actor was in every scene. In fact, if the story line didn’t revolve around them, a few of the actors might have just one or two scenes in any given episode, if any.

  Apparently, Tally was one of the luckier ones. She was being positioned as a lead as opposed to a secondary character, which gave her as many as eight pages of dialogue to memorize on each of the eight days it took to shoot a single episode of Dana Point. She relished every moment of it.

  Airtime wasn’t the only perk she was enjoying; Tally had to pinch herself the first time she walked into the trailer assigned to her on the Royalton lot. She couldn’t believe that she didn’t have to share it with anyone. She was also afraid to leave anything in it at first. What if the producers came to their senses and realized they’d made a mistake? Soon, though, it felt like her second home. In fact, she liked it much more than her tiny Studio City apartment, and she promised herself she’d look for a nicer place as soon as she paid off her credit cards. Maybe she’d even replace her beat-up old Honda; the fee that Josh had negotiated for her was more than she’d ever thought she’d make in a year, let alone for a single episode.

  Even though she was slowly settling into her new life, she still feared it would all just disappear one day. She’d read of that happening to other young actors. They presumed their shows and careers would last forever and spent every penny they made on clothes, jewelry, fast cars, and cliffhanging Hollywood Hills homes with eye-popping views of Los Angeles and the ocean beyond. Usually, they partied hard as well. This got them into the tabloids, which helped their careers. Then, for whatever reason, their series were canceled or their movie careers flatlined, and they had to sell everything just to survive. Tally was determined not to let that happen to her. She always came to the set ready to play out her lines from a variety of emotional angles, and between scenes, she’d retreat to her trailer, where she’d check and recheck her lines.

  Needless to say, her scenes came at the expense of some of her cast mates’. When lines and scenes were cut—as they often were—tempers flared and snapped.

  “Watch yourself, missy,” Ben Kendrick, the makeup artist assigned to Tally, whispered in her ear one morning as he applied a set of lashes. “Valerie is on the warpath. The costume department wanted to put you in something red, and she just threw a fit! Apparently, the color was too close to the dress she’s wearing today.” Ben gave a naughty giggle. “As if anyone will be looking at her two-thousand-dollar muumuu when you’re onscreen!”

  Tally tried hard not to wince lest her lashes end up crooked. “That’s cruel, Ben! I think she looks just fine. She’s not much bigger than a size six.”

  “Doll, have you lost a contact or something? OK, fine. Maybe you’re right—after she’s put on her third pair of Spanx. Seriously, I’m amazed that she has never passed out on the set.” He arched an eyebrow.

  Tally casually glanced across the makeup trailer to one of the hair stations where Valerie Rendell, who played Dana Point’s revered society matron, was seated. “Why would she care, anyway? I’ve only got one line in that scene, and we stand in the same frame for less than a minute.”

  “That’s not the point. On a set like this—on any set, really—egos clash over the silliest things. I tell you what, the catfights I’ve seen would curl your hair without hot rollers.” He sighed. “When that drama mama Susie Sheppard was here, someone ended up in tears every single day. And it was never Susie, I promise you that.” He leaned in, to be absolutely certain that only she could hear him. “That girl knew how to get her way around here. God, she was a handful—in more ways than one, if you catch my drift.”

  Tally didn’t exactly know what Ben meant by that, so she just nodded.

  He took a large powder brush and swept it over her cheeks. “Then again, it’s all of the drama that makes our work so intoxicating, isn’t it? You can just feel the passion in here, can’t you?”

  “What passion?” Tally looked around at the others. Sure, a couple of her cast mates were chatting together, but most were reading their lines or yawning after late-night antics that had already made that morning’s gossip columns.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me!” Ben leaned in closer. “There are at least three cast affairs going on right now. But you didn’t hear it from me. You know what they say
: if you see the trailer rockin’, don’t come a-knockin’.”

  Shocked, she tried to guess who he was talking about, but she couldn’t even imagine. Half her cast mates were married, and most of the others were seen in public on the arms of just-as-renowned significant others.

  Just then, Conrad walked by and tapped his watch, then jerked his thumb toward Justin, the actor who played Tally’s old high-school boyfriend on the show. Ben, somewhat miffed, gave him a dismissive wave. Justin certainly didn’t seem to be in any hurry. He was too engrossed with his BlackBerry to care about when he’d get his turn in the makeup chair. Tally guessed he was posting a Tweet; many of her cast mates were obsessed with their fan counts on Twitter or Facebook. In fact, Sadie had told Tally to get Steve on the ball with opening and managing her own accounts, but these days, she found it hard to get Steve to do anything other than escort her to the many events where she was now on invitation lists. Meanwhile, she was getting tired of being polite and asking him to come along. It would be nice to go with someone else for a change.

  But who? she wondered. If Ben was right, even a “friendly” cast mate might not be receptive to hanging out with her. I need a real life, she thought, then remembered she barely had time to take care of herself, let alone meet someone new.

  Ben leaned in close to touch up her eye shadow. “Have you taken a peek at Perez’s blog today? He claims he’s got insider info that your fan mail has been spiking. If that’s the case, Valerie won’t be the only one pissing and moaning about you.”

  Tally was confused. “But everyone has been so nice to me.”

  “That won’t last forever, love.” Ben frowned. “All I’m saying is that you’d better watch your back. A sweet thing like you can get stepped on easily in this town.”

  Ben was right. A half-hour later, when she walked onto the set, she noticed a frost in the air. She was sure it had to do with an Awful Truth “Blind Vice” item, posted just that morning, hinting that Tally had been dissing Justin to one of her gal pals in the ladies’ room of the Tower Bar the night before. Justin confirmed her suspicions, and his form of passive-aggressive retaliation was to mug at her while she taped her close-ups.