Forever in Hollywood

by Jovana Rodolakis

  He smiled and leaned his head to the side. It looked like he was contemplating something, but I didn’t know what. I began to feel a little uneasy.

  Finally he spoke. “I wasn’t ready to go home, and I enjoyed our conversation last night, so I was hoping we might keep each other company again tonight. Being on the road so far from home can be tough, I know.”

  “I agree, and I don’t mind the company. But like I said, it would be nice to have a little warning.” I hoped I hadn’t sounded annoyed he was here.

  “I’ll remember to ask permission next time. Do we need parental supervision as well? Maybe you need to call and ask your husband.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, I wasn’t being rude. I would just like a little warning.”

  He grimaced. “I was joking with you. Don’t be angry, but I shall ask if it is okay next time. Would it be all right for me to phone?”

  I thrilled at the English accent again and nodded. He pulled out his phone and sat staring at me for a moment. I eventually realized what he was doing and rattled off my number.

  “There, now I won’t have to show up unannounced again. What would you like to do tonight?”

  “I don’t know. Did I pass last night’s interrogation?”

  “Verdict is still out. I’m not sure what to think about the crazy fish lady comment.” He smiled, teasing again.

  Slightly flustered, I pulled my laptop out of my suitcase and flipped it open. Drumming my fingers on the corner of the small machine, I impatiently waited for it to start up.

  “What are you doing?” He looked puzzled.

  “I’m going to show you what being a fish geek accomplishes,” I said. “Then you can come up with your conclusions.”

  The computer hummed to life. I opened a folder of pictures and moved to sit next to him.

  “My tank.” Gesturing toward the screen, I flipped through the pictures showing him the fish and the corals, pausing to explain with pride how rare some of my collection was.

  He remained silent until I finished the slide show. “Wow!”

  “Does that mean I’m given a pass for being a big dork?”

  “Show off.” He smiled down at me. “You’re forgiven, but are we going to look at pictures the whole night? I’m afraid I didn’t bring any for show and tell.”

  “I don’t know, we could always run lines,” I replied, he looked at me with a questioning glance before I jumped up to grab my script. “But…I’ll play you and you can be my love interest.” I remembered doing this sort of improvisational game in my high school drama class and it was always a stupendous hit.

  “Backward!” I said with a smirk as I flipped the scrip to a random scene.

  “Backward?” He looked aghast.

  “Yes, you know, in reverse, every line.”

  ****

  My ribcage felt sore, in a good way, like it was battered from inside out because of all the laughter. We could only finish a page of script before we were both out of breath.

  “I think it runs better backward,” he said between gasps of air. “We should tell the director.”

  “I think the writers would kill you off if you tried to do the scene like this, plus I think you make a better British general than I do.”

  “Why? You are spot on with the accent.”

  “And you’re spot on with the female voice.” I laughed and cocked an eyebrow at him.

  “Did you come up with this game on your own?” He put his rough warm hand on my bare shoulder resting it there.

  “No actually, I wish I could take responsibility for it, but we used to play this in my high school drama class. It was one of my favorite improvisation games.”

  “What were some others?”

  “The funniest was having two people make up dialogue while two other people acted out the scene. Sometimes we used someone else’s arms also. One person would put their hands behind their backs, and the other person would stand behind them and thread their arms through the other person’s. So you wouldn’t have control over what your hands were doing as you acted out a scene. Didn’t you ever play improv games?”

  “Never like this. I would have loved to.”

  “You got screwed. These were some of the best things about drama classes.” I giggled again, but my laughter died when I realized he was no longer smiling.

  “Maybe…” He became withdrawn in an instant. The laughter was gone, and he diverted his attention from me. Grabbing the remote he started flipping through channels.

  “Are you all right?” I asked.

  “Yes, I’m perfectly fine.”

  “I don’t understand. I’m sorry if I said something…”

  “My father never let me take acting classes. He said acting was for homosexuals and confused girls. I was forced to play football and rugby. I always felt like I missed out. I wanted to join an acting guild or a music class.” He stared blankly at the television as he flipped through the channels. The look of irritation on his face made me regret pushing for a response.

  I wanted to break the tension, but an appropriate response was absent from my thoughts. “I’m sorry,” I repeated in a low voice. “Hey, stop there! This is a great movie. Do you want to watch it?” I propped up the mound of pillows behind me and leaned back motioning Andrew to join me.

  “Okay, cheesy movie night it is.” The corner of his lips twitched up, his body relaxed and he sank into the pillows.

  I woke two hours later to a gentle rocking motion on my shoulder. “Hey, hey, wake up. It’s getting late. The movie is over.” A sleepy haze was clouding my mind. I felt warm and comfortable, yet the rocking motion was getting annoying, I wished it would stop so I could go back to sleep. “Come on now, it’s time to wake up.”

  “Oh!” My eyes popped open. I fell asleep and slumped over into Andrew’s shoulder. When I woke, I found myself in a comfortable cradle against his chest. Now his trapped arm was shaking me awake.

  “Oh,” I said again. “I’m so sorry I fell asleep on you, how long was I out?”

  “About an hour, give or take. You didn’t drool much—not to worry.”

  “Oh, why didn’t you wake me right away when I fell asleep on you?” I was embarrassed. “And I don’t drool.”

  He shrugged. “I was comfortable, but I need to go now before people get the wrong idea. What if your boyfriend comes looking for you? What will he think if he sees me here at this hour?” He gasped in mock horror.

  “Boyfriend?” Was he delusional?

  “Yes, Billy. Remember you were bringing him up to your room when I interrupted?” He winked. His chest flexed as he tried to contain his laughter.

  “You’re insane.”

  I was still lying in his arms. Was it because I was so comfortable, or was I missing my husband’s touch? I didn’t know why, and self-consciousness built in my chest. I sat up so he could leave.

  “Tonight was fun,” he said. “Thank you for spending it with me.”

  “Thank you.”

  He got up, adjusted his jeans over his hips, smoothed his hair, and strolled to the door. I followed to see him out of the room. He opened the door but turned to look at me. A gentle smile played on his lips but he didn’t say anything.

  “Again, I’m sorry I fell asleep on you, I was a bad hostess.”

  His smile broadened into a crooked grin accenting a single dimple on his right cheek.

  “We are such stuff as dreams are made on; and our little life is rounded with sleep,” he quoted Shakespeare and in one long stride was out of the room.

  ****

  Anne, the heroine of the film, and I were chitchatting as she awaited one of the last scenes of the day to take place. We looked up when Andrew approached.

  “Ladies,” he greeted us. “The courier needs a signature for your post, Marissa.”

  “My what?” Only after the words were out did it dawn on me there was a mailman standing next to Andrew. He handed me a large yellow envelope, and I signed his little computer device.


  As a professional courtesy, Andrew turned his attention to Anne. “I don’t think we should play out this scene the way we discussed. What do you think about me being more torn over the decision?”

  “On what part?” she asked.

  I stared at the package from the law firm of Morgan, Bartholomew & Fitzgerald. There was no way this could be from Dan, but who else would send me legal papers? Without further hesitation I ripped open the flap and pulled out a small packet of paper. A yellow sticky note was placed at the top.

  “Becca agrees you’re being immature and I need to move on. Sign these, I’m done with you.” He had the audacity to mention the one person he promised he would never speak to again. I pulled off the note and below it the paper read Petition for Divorce.

  With no outlet for my growing rage, my hand began to tremble as I stared dumbfounded.

  The director called for Anne to take her place.

  “See you later, Marissa. That’s my queue.” She trotted up to take her position next to the director. Andrew didn’t move from my side.

  “Would it be all right if I came by your room tonight?” His voice was barely audible. With a slight nod, I consented and shoved the pages back in the envelope.

  In the midst of my husband’s further infidelities and blatant confession that he was leaving me for his detective whore, I was glad Andrew would be there tonight. My hand trembled in a new way, and I tried to conceal the nervousness in the folds of my skirt.

  Why did those damn butterflies come back? I hadn’t been quick enough to hide my emotions and Andrew’s lips twitched up in an acknowledging grin. He had the audacity to wink at me.

  “Thane,” he called after another actor and strode away.

  ****

  There was a production meeting scheduled Saturday morning where we would be briefed on what to expect the following week. Aside from that, I had the weekend to myself, and my grief.

  Since my husband overnighted the divorce papers, it was taking every bit of false bravado I could muster to keep from breaking down on set. Alone in a dark empty parking lot, I gave in to my sorrow and slumped over the steering wheel sobbing. For my failed attempt to work things out, for being selfish and coming out here instead of mending my marriage, and for knowing I would be divorced before the age of twenty-five.

  The envelope stuck out of my purse like a flashing yellow light. “Proceed with caution, your life is about to change.” It warned. I yanked the papers out and flipped to the page with the little blue tab. There was space for my signature and a notary’s stamp. Dan had already signed. With a little effort, I signed my name. There was no point trying to read it through blurry eyes. I’d do that later when I had the time to find a notary.

  As I dried my eyes they stung, but not from the tears. What is that smell in this car? Embalming fluid and rotting fish? I would seriously have to give Billy a piece of my mind for bringing me to a sleazy rental company.

  Chapter Six

  I took off my shoes, washed my tearstained face, and wiggled my wedding ring off. With it gone, a weight also lifted from my shoulders. I no longer had to pretend I’d forgiven Dan and my life was great. It wasn’t, and it was about time one of us pulled the plug.

  Someone knocked on my hotel door. Knowing it could only be one person, I ran across the room and flung it open. Sure enough, he stood there in all his glory wearing a lovely crooked smile.

  “Hi,” I breathed.

  “’Ello. Look, I must get this off my chest.” He walked inside, sat in the chair, and patted the bed in front of him encouraging me to sit. “I know I’ve heard much more than I should have, but he’s a bloody jerk who doesn’t know what a great girl he has. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to pry, but I saw the post, I just thought you should know he’s a wanker for making you cry.”

  He shifted in his seat looking a little uncomfortable before he reached out and placed cool thumbs over my raw eyes. I guess I hadn’t concealed the crying as well as I thought.

  The emotions that followed were unexplainable, I was so happy Andrew was there for comfort. Yet the humiliation of him knowing I failed in my marriage was too much to handle. Tears fell more quickly than he could wipe them away.

  “I’m sorry.” I sighed, it seemed like I was always apologizing to him. “This is just a very tough subject for me.”

  “Would you like to tell me exactly what’s going on? I can give you a guy’s opinion on the problem, at the very least, it will help to have someone to talk to.” His eyebrows were pulled together, and he looked genuinely concerned.

  “I don’t even know where to begin,” I said with a heavy sigh.

  “How about from the beginning?”

  “Well, right after we got married, he cheated on me,” I said.

  “That much I got.”

  “He’s a cop, and she was his partner at the time. He said it was a mistake and that he confessed hoping I could forgive him and give him another chance, you know…” Andrew handed me a tissue and grabbed hold of my hand.

  After drying my eyes, I continued, “It seemed like from the moment I agreed to give him another chance, he was pushing for us to have a baby. As if, rather than trying to gain my trust back, he’d let the joy of a new baby distract us.”

  “But it’s not the baby’s job to fix things, it’s his,” he stated with a knowing nod.

  “Exactly.”

  “Did he try to gain your trust back?”

  A few strands of hair stuck to my wet cheeks as I shook my head no.

  “Things went back to the way they always were. He pretended it never happened, and I tried not to think about it. I guess I was afraid to dwell on it, afraid I might lose him, but none of that matters now. He filed for divorce and left me a cute little note rubbing her in my face.”

  “So what are you going to do?” Andrew questioned.

  “He told me he would never speak to her again if I forgave him, but since I won’t, he thinks that makes it okay for him to talk to her, he asked her for advice.” The sting of betrayal burned my heart yet again and fresh tears rolled down my face.

  “The bloody hell it is!”

  “Now, I’ve got two options,” I choked between fresh sobs, “leave now, go home so he stops seeing her and finalize my divorce, or do it through the mail. It seems like either way he wins. He didn’t want me coming out here anyway.”

  “Is there any reason you have to go back, aside from her?”

  “I don’t think so. I wouldn’t get much alimony even if I wanted to be a bitch and ask for it. We were only married a few years.”

  “Okay then, the way I see it, he’s going to continue to see her even if you go home, so stay and finish your job. Do what you want and to hell with him. I can see in your eyes how much you love to act. He ruined your marriage. Don’t let him ruin a promising career.”

  He made very good points. My leaving or staying would not change the outcome at home. I needed to stay and I knew it, even if a small part of me wanted to go home and confront them this instant. I buried my head in my hands.

  “I shouldn’t have brought it up.” He laid a comforting hand on my knee.

  “No, it felt good to get it out. Thank you for listening. I’m okay now. Please tell me something about yourself. Get my mind off of this.” I placed my hand over his.

  He looked relieved I wasn’t crying any more. “What would you like to know?”

  “I don’t know, tell me about your family.”

  He stood up and sat next to me on the bed. This complex man who ignored me during the day, was the kindest soul in the evening. “I don’t really know. I guess my family is like any average one. My mum and dad are still married. I have an older sister who works for an architectural design firm, and a younger sister who writes lyrics; she’s more artistic like me. I’m the only boy, and therefore I’ve got a lot of pressure to succeed. I told you my dad wanted me to play more sports. He never took well to the idea of me spending time on music or acting. Such is life though.
I’m doing what I love now.” He was quiet for a moment, then added softly, “As you should.”

  “I’m not leaving,” I said, needing to change the subject before the gravity of the situation depressed me further.

  “Are you hungry? I’m bloody famished.” My stomach growled and he laughed. “I take that as a yes. Come on then, let’s find something to eat.” He leaped off the bed, grabbing me by the wrist all in the same fluid motion, and pulled me toward the door. I was barely able to slip my fingers around my purse on the table, before he pulled me out the door. “Sushi?”

  I made a revolting sound in my throat. “I think I’ve had enough sake to last me a year. If I step into another Japanese place I might vomit.” He came to an abrupt stop causing me to crash into his back.

  “Where then?” He turned to look at me with a question in his eyes.

  “Ha! You’re asking the Queen of Indecision here. It would be easier to go someplace you like. I’ll find something on any menu I can eat.”

  “I don’t think so.” He waited for a response. If he thought telling me to just pick something was going to work, he had a surprise coming. Then he surprised me. He placed his hand over my eyes and slowly dragged his fingers down my face, closing my eyes.

  “Just say the first thing that comes to mind,” he whispered into my ear. My breathing sped up at the shock of his touch. The tone in his voice combined with a hint of whiskey on his breath hypnotized me.

  “Pub food,” I blurted. I opened my eyes, biting my lip as I looked up at him. The only response that could have been more embarrassing would be if I said I wanted to eat him. Could I sound any more idiotic? He was smiling at me with his head leaning to the side.

  “Pub food, really?” He said with a confident smirk. “Why?”

  “Please don’t laugh or be offended, but…your accent makes me crave fish and chips.” I looked down at my feet.

  Bellows of laughter erupted from him.

  “I asked you not to laugh.” I cringed with remorse.

  “I have never heard that one before! My accent makes you want pub food? I love it.” He broke off with more laughter. “Although I don’t know if we are going to find a good British pub around Los Angeles. Are you up for a journey?”