Breaking Hollywood

by Samantha Towle

  I’ve just shut the dishwasher door when I hear activity in the foyer.

  I head through the apartment to introduce myself.

  There are two women. One older, one younger. And they both look surprised to see me.

  “Hi,” I say, lifting my hand in a wave. “I’m Ava.”

  The older woman smiles warmly. “Nice to meet you, Ava. I’m Barb, and this is Sadie.” She points to the younger woman.

  Looking at her, I’m pegging her to be around my age, maybe a little younger.

  She doesn’t smile. Just regards me with narrow eyes.

  She’s a really pretty girl. Brown hair tied up into a messy bun. Taller than me. Slender figure. Clear, fresh skin.

  The way she’s staring at me is starting to make me feel uncomfortable.

  Maybe she thinks I’m with Gabe. And maybe she likes Gabe.

  Can’t blame the girl. I mean, who doesn’t like him? Dude is hot as hell. And he’s a movie star to boot. Just a shame about his crude mouth and disgusting smoking habit.

  “Gabe’s just in the office,” I tell them, moving my eyes back to Barb. “I’m not his girlfriend or anything. Just a friend. He broke his foot. I’m here, taking care of him, until he’s healed.”

  “Oh no,” Barb says. “How’d he do that?”

  “Oh, I did it. I hit him with my car.”

  Barb’s eyes widen, and I hear Sadie snigger.

  “No, I mean, I ran over his foot with my car by accident. Total accident.”

  Jesus Christ, Ava.

  “Oh, well, so long as he’s okay,” Barb says kindly.

  “He’s fine. Absolutely fine. Only two bones broken, first and second metatarsals. He’ll be back to new in six to eight weeks.”

  Jesus, I’m sweating.

  “Right. Well”—I clap my hands together—“I guess…I’ll leave you to it.”

  I turn on my heel and go to the terrace where Gucci is still lying in the same place as I left her.

  “Come on, baby girl.” I scoop her up into my arms, and she snuggles in close.

  I walk quickly through the living room where Sadie and Barb have started cleaning, and I head to the office.

  The door is closed, so I tap on it and push it open.

  Gabe is staring at his computer screen. And he’s wearing his glasses.

  Good God, he looks sexy. Really sexy. Like hot, nerdy whiz kid who’s really a superhero by night.

  A superhero who gives amazing orgasms to women. Well, me.

  Ha! Keep dreaming, Simms.

  He moves his eyes to me.

  I clear my throat. “The cleaners are here,” I tell him.

  “Right…”

  I move into the room and shut the door behind me. I take a seat in the chair in the corner.

  “You staying?” He raises a brow.

  “I feel weird out there with the cleaners here.”

  His lips lift. “Why?”

  “I don’t know.” I shrug.

  “Okay.” His eyes go back to his computer screen.

  “I like your glasses. They suit you.”

  His response is a nod.

  I scratch Gucci’s head, and she lets out a soft, “Baaahhh.”

  “Whatcha doing?” I ask him.

  “Working.”

  “Oh. What on?”

  He looks back to me. “Work.”

  I stretch my legs out and look at my bare feet. My toenails could do with a fresh coat of varnish on them. The red I painted on is starting to chip. Maybe I’ll do that once the cleaners are gone.

  “How long will they be here for?” I ask Gabe.

  “The cleaners? A few hours or so.”

  I lean my head back on the headrest and stare up at the ceiling.

  I’m so bored.

  I really need to get out today.

  I look over at Gabe, who’s squinting at his screen. “Do you want to go out today?”

  He sighs and leans back in his desk chair. “Where do you want to go, Speedy?”

  “I don’t know. Anywhere. We could just go out and get some fresh air.”

  “You’re not going to let me work until we go out, are you?”

  I smile wide.

  “Fine. But I’m bringing work with me. I need to start learning this script.”

  “Can I help?”

  “Yes, Speedy, you can help.”

  “Cool. So, where shall we go?”

  “I have just the place.”

  “Can Gucci come?”

  He sighs. “Yes, Speedy, the goat can come.”

  Ava

  I pull Gabe’s car to a stop on a roadside outside a field in Beverly Glen.

  “This is where you want to go?”

  “Mmhmm.”

  “A field?”

  “Yep.”

  “Well, I guess Gucci will like it here. But can I ask, why have we come to a field?”

  I was thinking he meant like a café or something when he said he had somewhere for us to go.

  Gabe opens his car door and puts the messenger bag that he brought with him over his head, so the strap is across his chest. Then, using his crutches, he gets out of the car.

  I lean over into the backseat, unfasten Gucci’s car harness from the seat belt, and bring her into the front with me. I clip her lead to the harness and carry her out of the car.

  I go stand next to Gabe. “Okay, so what do we do now?”

  “Come with me.”

  He starts moving, so I put Gucci down to the ground, and holding her lead, I follow Gabe across the grass.

  “Wow,” I say when he comes to a stop on the other side of the field.

  Now, I see why he likes to come here. There’s a clear view of Stone Canyon Reservoir.

  “What a view.”

  “Yep.”

  “Do you come here often?”

  “Is that your pick-up line, Speedy? Because, if it is, it’s no wonder you’re single.”

  “Jerk.”

  I nudge him with my elbow, and he chuckles.

  “And, to answer your question, I come here as often as I can.”

  “I can see why you like it. It’s really peaceful.”

  “Peace isn’t something I get a lot of in my line of work. And there aren’t many places I can go without someone recognizing me. Here, I can come and sit out in the open air, and no one bothers me.”

  “Who owns this field?” I ask him, looking around.

  “I do.”

  I stop and look up at him. He’s staring down at me.

  “You own a field?”

  “It’s not just a field, Speedy; it’s land. Land that I plan to build a house on.”

  “Ah. How long have you owned it?”

  He laughs softly. “Eight years.”

  “Eight years?” I look at him, dumbfounded. “So, this might be a stupid question…but why haven’t you built a house?”

  He lifts a shoulder, his eyes briefly meeting mine. “I’ve been busy working for the last eight years, and I’m not sure exactly what type of house I want to build here. I bought it because it was a great deal at the time for what I was getting. I just haven’t gotten around to doing anything with it.”

  “Except coming here to admire the view.”

  “Except that.”

  “Well, if it were me, I’d build a huge ranch-style house with a paddock for Gucci and a swimming pool.”

  “The pool for the goat or you?”

  “Both of us.” I grin.

  He shifts on his crutches, a slight grimace appearing on his face.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah, standing just gets uncomfortable.”

  I look around, but there’s nowhere to sit, except the grass. “What do you want to do?”

  “There’s a fold-up chair and blanket in the trunk of my car. Would you mind grabbing them? Then, we can sit up here, and you can run lines with me.”

  I jog over to the car, Gucci trotting alongside me, and I get the chair and blanket out of the trunk.
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  I grab my bag from the backseat, as I’ve got a couple of bottles of water and Gucci’s water bottle, built-in tray, and some cut-up vegetables in a sandwich bag ready for her.

  I head back over to Gabe and set the chair up. He sits in it, putting his crutches on the ground. I hook Gucci’s lead to the chair and extend it, so she’s got plenty of space to roam around. Then, I lay the blanket out in front of Gabe and sit down on it, tucking my legs under me.

  He removes the bag and pulls out what I think are a couple of scripts.

  He hands one to me.

  Yep, it’s a script.

  On the front, it reads, Insanity Calling by Jonah Pickle and Catarina Wiseman, Second Draft.

  “Insanity Calling. That’s a cool name for a movie,” I muse.

  “Yeah. It’s a really great script,” he tells me.

  “When do you start filming?”

  “Couple of months’ time.”

  “So, your foot will be healed in time. That’s good news. Where will you be filming?”

  “Mostly in the studio. Some on location in New York.”

  “The asshole studio that fired me?” I playfully narrow my eyes.

  “Yep. That asshole studio.”

  He’s quiet a moment, and then he says, “I can talk to someone, get you your job back. Or get you a job on this movie.”

  “No, it’s fine. But thank you. I appreciate the offer.” I open to the first page of the script. “So, who’s in this movie with you?”

  “Desmond Hooper.”

  “Ooh, I love him.”

  “Right?” He grins.

  Desmond Hooper is old-school Hollywood. He’s done so many films, ranging from Westerns to comedies to love stories. He’s a veteran in the movie business and a twice Oscar winner.

  “Who else is in it? Who’s playing your love interest?” There’s always a love interest.

  “She’s not been cast yet.”

  That’s not unusual for a studio to not have the full cast, even at this point.

  “They did have Harriett Jenkins at one point, but…” He trails off, scratching his chin. He still hasn’t shaved, and he’s getting the definite signs of a beard growing.

  “But what?”

  “Nothing.”

  “You can’t say that to someone like me!” I sit up on my haunches. “That’s like dangling a cigarette in front of you and not letting you smoke it.”

  “Talking of cigarette.” He pulls a pack out of his shorts pocket and lights one up.

  I watch him suck on the cigarette and blow the smoke out into the air.

  “Gabe.”

  “Ava.”

  Containing my shiver, I press my hands to my hips and tip my head to the side.

  “Fine.” He sighs. “We fucked a few times, and she got a little…hung up on me.”

  I ignore the stab of jealousy I feel at knowing he had sex with Harriett Jenkins—the beautiful once-child star, now full-on bona fide movie star.

  “She went Fatal Attraction on you?”

  “She didn’t boil any bunnies on my stove, but it did get a little weird for a time. She was turning up at my apartment at all hours of the night. Went bitch crazy on some chick I was talking to in a club. Scratched my car. When I woke up in the middle of the night to find her in my bed, I had it.”

  My mouth pops open. “She was in your bed? How did she get in your apartment? The only way I know up there is via the elevator.”

  “There’s a service elevator in the back—that other door in the kitchen.”

  “Oh. I thought that was just a cupboard.”

  “No.” He laughs.

  “So, how did she get in?”

  “She bribed one of the building staff and got the elevator key from them. I was so close to calling the cops, but I didn’t want the press attention. So, I kicked her ass out and called my lawyer. He threatened her people with a restraining order, knowing they wouldn’t want that to get out in the press. It would be killer for her golden-girl image. So, they checked her into rehab for ‘exhaustion.’” He air-quotes. “I haven’t heard from her since. That was three years ago.

  “But no way am I working with her. So, I told the studio that I didn’t want to work with her for personal reasons, and I was happy to pull out. But they wanted me for the role, so she was taken out of the picture.”

  “Oh, well, I’m glad for you. And any future bunnies that might have been boiled in your name.”

  “It goes without saying, this is just between you and me.”

  I make the locking motion over my lips and pretend to throw away the key.

  “You know, I usually have my staff sign an NDA,” he says in a thoughtful tone.

  “I can sign one if you’d like.”

  His eyes soften on me. “No. You’re good. I trust you.”

  That warms me all over.

  I glance over at my Gucci, who’s walking around, sniffing the grass.

  “You don’t think Harriett will go weird if she finds out I’m staying with you?”

  “Gucci’s safe, Speedy. She won’t come back. It’s been a long time now. She’s probably off stalking some other poor bastard.”

  “Sucks that you had to go through that.”

  He shrugs. “It was more annoying than anything.”

  “If I had someone stalk me like that, I’d shit my pants.”

  “Literally?”

  “Yeah. And I’d probably piss myself, too.”

  He laughs.

  I can’t believe I’m talking about shit and piss with Gabe.

  I’m so weird.

  “So, anyway”—I look down at the script—“you want to get started on this?”

  “Sure.” He pulls his glasses from his bag and puts them on.

  My girl parts shimmy in response. I have to squeeze my thighs together to relieve the ache.

  “So, which part are we working on?”

  “Go to page five. You read the part of Estelle. I’m Henry.”

  “Is Estelle Henry’s love interest in the movie?”

  His eyes connect with mine. The darkening of them makes my mouth dry and my stomach quiver.

  “Yeah. She’s the one he wants to fuck. Badly.”

  For a moment, I wonder if he’s actually talking about him and me.

  “Do they…have sex? In the movie?” I can’t believe I actually asked that.

  “Yes.”

  Our eyes are still locked. I run my tongue over my dry lips.

  Gabe’s eyes follow the movement.

  I swallow. “Is there…dialogue? In the sex scene.”

  “Yeah. Henry’s a talker during sex. A really dirty talker.”

  Holy crap.

  “And…will you need me to help you run those lines?”

  His eyes come up to mine. It feels like an age before he speaks, but when he does, it’s worth the wait. “Definitely.”

  Sweet mother of Jesus, my panties are soaked.

  I drag my eyes from his, feeling like I can’t breathe. My body is on fire, and the only thing it wants…needs to soothe itself is him.

  God, I want him. I’ve never wanted a man more.

  “Ava…”

  Jesus, when he says my name, I want to die.

  “Gucci’s off her lead.”

  “What?” I snap to attention to see she’s wandered off over to the other side of the field. “Shit!”

  I jump to my feet and start running over to her. When I call her name, her head comes up from the flowers she was sniffing. She starts jumping around with excitement.

  “Come here, baby girl.”

  I crouch down, and she comes trotting over into my arms. Thank God she didn’t run away from me.

  Always to me. Bless her heart.

  I walk back over to Gabe.

  “Okay?” he asks.

  “Yeah, I’m not sure how she got free.” I put her down and refit the lead to the harness, making sure it’s secure.

  As I stand, Gabe’s hand touches mine and lingers
there. “Ava.”

  I look down at him, and words fail me. He’s so beautiful, and the way he’s looking at me reignites my body back to life.

  “Look, I—”

  Something catches my eye, and I look up. “Gabe,” I cut him off.

  Not that I want to cut him off because I really want to hear what he was going to say, but there’s a guy waving at me from the other side of the field, near Gabe’s car.

  “There’s a guy near your car, and he’s waving at me.”

  After talking about stalkers, I’m feeling a little creeped out by a random stranger waving at us. What if he’s recognized Gabe? At this distance though, that wouldn’t be possible, would it?

  Gabe turns his head to look. “Oh, it’s the pizza delivery guy.”

  I look down at him, surprised. “Pizza delivery guy? You ordered pizza? When?”

  “When you went to the car to get the blanket and chair.” He digs in the pocket of his shorts and pulls out a fifty-dollar bill. “I ordered a couple. One plain and a meat feast. You mind going over to pay him?” He holds out the bill.

  “Uh, yeah, sure.” I take the money and walk over to the delivery guy.

  When I return with the pizzas, Gabe digs in straightaway. Before I know it, we’re eating pizza and running lines, and I never do ask him what he was going to say before.

  Gabe

  Speedy’s been living here for two weeks now, and I can honestly say, it’s the most fun I’ve had in ages.

  She’s crazy but in a totally great way. She never stops talking, but now, instead of finding it annoying, I like it. Hearing her ramble on is soothing in an odd kind of way.

  I’ve never met a woman like her before. She’s totally comfortable with who she is. She doesn’t care that she talks too much. Or that she’s quirky. She’s not constantly worrying about how she looks or fixing her hair and makeup all the time.

  She’s sweet and kind, and the way she loves that goat…I swear, that thing is lucky as fuck.

  And the goat’s even growing on me. I’m not sure what’s happening to me, but I think I’m going soft.

  Not that I’d ever admit that to Speedy—or the goat.

  I like having them here, which isn’t something I thought I would ever say about anyone—ever.

  I spend nearly every minute of the day with Speedy, and I never get bored of her company. Not once.