by Carrie Elks
‘Publicity.’ Charles shrugged. ‘Everybody wants it, even Serena Sloane. She’s got a new release coming up, she needs to get her name out there.’
Sam could feel the agitation creeping through his bones. ‘But this piece is full of lies. I didn’t know she was married, she told me it was over. This article makes me out to be some kind of cheating asshole.’
Even the headline was enough to make him feel sick. Serena Sloane: Hollywood’s Mr Nice was Nasty in Bed. And I Loved It!
‘Can’t we quash it?’ Sam asked. ‘Send a rebuttal or sue them or something? Maybe I should call my publicist?’
‘I’ve already called Melissa. She’s on the case right now. But tell me, Sam, why would you want to quash the rumours?’
Sam’s mouth turned to ashes. ‘Because it’s fucking embarrassing. All those things she said we did. Half of it isn’t true. And the other half I’d rather people didn’t know about. Did you know they’re all calling me “The Jackhammer”? What kind of nickname is that? It’s all over TMZ already.’
Charles’ mouth twitched. ‘Jack Hammer, eh? That’s a pretty good nickname, if you know what I mean?’
Sam closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. ‘But it’s completely exaggerated. Serena and I only went out on a few dates, and as far as I knew she was single. We were friends more than anything. The article is full of lies.’ He sighed. His head was starting to pound. He hadn’t slept at all last night, too busy reading all the websites he could find, Googling his own name to find out the worst. All the things Charles had told him he should never do.
‘What part of it do you want us to refute?’ Charles asked. ‘The bit where she calls you an animal in bed, or her description of you as a “drill sergeant”?’
‘Am I supposed to be flattered by that?’ Sam rolled his eyes. ‘The whole thing is embarrassing.’
Charles raised one silver-grey eyebrow. At twenty years Sam’s senior, no doubt he’d seen it all. A seasoned Hollywood resident, where Sam was still a mere beginner, Charles was rarely fazed by anything. ‘But you did know she was married. It’s common knowledge around here.’
‘I thought you were supposed to be on my side? As far as I knew, they were separated. I can’t even leave my apartment without people laughing at me. I can’t escape it. And when my parents find out, God, I don’t want to see their faces.’
‘Give it a few weeks and it’ll blow over. Somebody else’ll do something stupid, and you’ll just be yesterday’s news.’
‘Well thanks for that.’
Charles shrugged. ‘What do you want me to say? I’m your agent. As far as I’m concerned all publicity is good publicity. So you have to put up with a bit of ribbing, so what? This could be the making of you.’
Sam sighed loudly. ‘Have you read the article? It’s so explicit, she talks about everything. How would you feel if everybody knew the exact measurements of your anatomy? There’s stuff in there that nobody needs to know, especially not my family.’
‘You mean the kinky stuff? They’ll get over it. Tell ’em not to read it.’
Sam shook his head. ‘I’m not going to talk to them about it.’ Even the thought of that made his blood run cold. His mother, he guessed, would let loose at him, in her dramatic Italian accent, berating him for being so stupid, for getting involved with a woman who didn’t deserve him.
His father, well, that was a different matter. Not that he thought of him as a father any more. Foster Carlton didn’t suffer fools gladly. No matter what Sam did, it was never enough to earn the man’s respect, and this wasn’t exactly going to change his mind.
‘Look, Sam, I know this has all come as a shock, but you need to look at it from a different perspective. You’ve been telling me you’re sick of the roles you’re getting offered, that you want to break out of the nice-guy mould they’ve all put you in. Here’s your chance, you need to capitalise on it. Come out, be honest, and let the public see a different side to you. I guarantee you’ll get offered some meaty roles after this.’
‘Or my career will die a slow, miserable death.’
‘It’s not gonna happen. You’re too good for that. You don’t get Oscar nominated unless you have something special, and you, Sam, have that thing. It’s gold, you and I both know that. It’s just time to take it in a new direction.’
Charles was strangely unperturbed by this whole chain of events. Sam stared at him, wondering why he was so nonchalant. After all, he’d built Sam’s career on being a nice guy. Even if Sam did complain about the roles he was offered as a result.
‘Did you know about this?’ Sam asked, suspiciously. ‘You’re way too calm. Did the journalist call you about it?’
Charles shrugged. ‘This is the first time I’ve seen the magazine.’
His response did nothing to allay Sam’s misgivings. ‘You knew, didn’t you? You had to. You were the one who introduced me to Serena, after all.’ They’d met six months earlier at one of Charles’s parties in his Beverly Hills home. Hitting it off immediately, Sam had ended up taking Serena home, and the rest was history. The sort of history that everybody in LA would know about as soon as they read the headlines. Another thought hit Sam. ‘You knew she wasn’t separated?’
‘Of course I did. She’s my client, after all. But who am I to judge?’
‘You could have told me!’ Sam felt indignant. ‘Given me a chance before I ended up splashed across the news stands. You must have known it would end up like this, with me looking like an asshole.’
‘You’re catastrophising,’ Charles told him. ‘It’s only going to give you a bit of street cred. You’ll be known as a stud. Girls are going to want to sleep with you, and guys are going to want to be you. Sam “The Jackhammer” Carlton. It has a ring to it, doesn’t it?’
There was something so glib in his response that Sam immediately felt his back stiffen. ‘Did Serena tell you she was selling her story?’
For the first time, Charles looked uncomfortable. He shifted in his chair, not meeting Sam’s gaze. ‘I can’t discuss my other clients with you, you know that, Sam.’
‘So you knew.’ Sam swallowed, trying to get rid of the bad taste in his mouth. ‘And you didn’t warn me.’
‘It isn’t a big deal. I knew you’d be OK. This is going to be great for your career, Sam. Especially when the next issue comes out, that stuff about your father is dynamite.’
Sam froze at the mention of his father. ‘What?’ He shook his head, trying to slow the rush of blood through his ears. ‘What about my father?’
Charles ignored his shocked expression. ‘This is career changing, Sam. First we show you as a sex god, then we show your softer side. Women are going to be falling at their knees for you, the broken guy they all want to lay.’
‘She told you I was broken?’ Sam couldn’t seem to get enough air into his lungs. ‘Why did she say that?’ He leaned forward, slamming his hand down on the desk. ‘What the hell did she tell you?’
‘It all makes sense now,’ Charles continued. ‘I never could work out why you didn’t want to talk about your dad, or use his connections. But now I know . . . Jeez, you should have told me this before. There’s nothing like a scandal to send your career to the next level.’
It was almost impossible to think straight. He’d never imagined she’d use his secrets against him. ‘I told her about my family in confidence. It’s private, I don’t want everybody knowing.’
‘Well that’s women for you.’ Charles was still smiling, oblivious. ‘They sleep with you, spend your money, and then when the chips are down they kick you in the teeth. Ask my three ex-wives.’
A vein twitched in his neck at the thought of his messed up family becoming common knowledge. ‘She promised she wouldn’t say anything.’ He breathed in, but the air wouldn’t get past the lump in his throat. ‘Fuck, this is awful. The sex stuff was bad enough, but this . . . ’
‘You’re overreacting,’ Charles said. ‘Look, this is g
oing to be great for you, and great for Serena. You asked me to work on your image, and that’s what I’m doing. Relax, enjoy the ride.’
‘How long have you known for?’ Sam had the bit between his teeth now. He wasn’t about to let go.
‘What do you mean?’
He should have known it was going to end like this. Six years in Hollywood had taught him to watch his back. But Serena was a famous actress, and for some reason Sam had thought there was honour among thieves. They’d only dated a handful of times, and yes, some of those times they’d ended up in bed together. But as far as Sam was concerned they were good friends. Or at least, they had been.
‘Did you set me up?’
Charles looked surprised. ‘What makes you think that?’
Sam could feel the adrenalin building in his body. ‘This is all a little too convenient. You and I had a meeting only a few days before your party, and we talked about ways to get some different roles. Some meatier ones. I can remember you telling me I needed to get rid of my wholesome image.’ The more Sam talked, the more plausible it all was. ‘Jesus, you did arrange it, didn’t you?’
Charles smiled. ‘Now come on, Sam—’
‘Did you set me up?’ Sam was almost out of his chair. ‘I knew this town was rotten, but I didn’t think you were, too.’
Charles threw his hands up in a gesture of surrender. ‘All right! Yes, I did suggest to Serena that you might enjoy some more time together. That it could be good for both of your careers. She’s desperately trying to get some publicity, and you’re attempting to redefine yourself. Why not use this to both your advantages?’
‘What the hell gives you the right to agree this without talking to me? You don’t get to make these decisions without my go-ahead.’
‘It’s how this town works, you know that. I’m your agent, Sam, and in many ways I’m your manager, too. If you want to change direction you need to make some difficult choices and I’m wasn’t sure you had it in you. I was doing you a favour. When the offers come rolling in I can guarantee you won’t be so goddamn puritanical about it.’
Was Charles for real? Sam might have wanted to stop playing the good guy all the time, but that didn’t mean he wanted to be set up. He could guarantee by now that Sam Carlton’s fall from grace was the topic-du-jour.
‘You asshole. You’re supposed to be working for me, I pay you pretty damn well for the privilege. I trusted you, Charles, and you’ve fucked me over.’
‘That’s not true, and you know it. I’ve just made your career for you. A juicy little scandal is box office magic.’
The pounding in Sam’s head increased, until it felt like it was about to explode. There was no arguing with Charles. From his self-satisfied smile and smug demeanour, he felt he’d done a good job.
‘That’s not the career I want,’ Sam said. ‘And it’s not the career I’m going to have. You’ll be hearing from my lawyer. If that article about my family is printed, I’ll sue you and Serena for everything you’ve got.’ He straightened up. ‘As far as I’m concerned, this conversation is over. And so is our working relationship.’ He threw the magazine onto Charles’s messy desk. ‘You’re fired.’
Sam managed to lose the paparazzi when he swung his Lexus hybrid through the entrance to the gated community. The security guard beckoned him through with a wave, used to the caravan of media that followed Sam around. He wasn’t the only resident who attracted this kind of attention. The community was high-end, with twenty-four hour protection, and it sheltered the rich and famous.
Letting himself into the apartment he shared with his fellow actor and friend Will Allen, Sam threw his keys onto the marble side table and walked into the kitchen. Pulling the refrigerator open, he grabbed a beer from the otherwise-empty ice compartment. As the door closed, he got a glimpse of himself in the shiny chrome, and stepped back, squeezing his eyes shut.
It came to something when he couldn’t even look himself in the face. The same face that had made his fame and fortune. But now it was plastered across every tabloid and gossip website, he couldn’t stand the sight of it.
Slumping on the sofa, he looked out of the glass doors that led onto the steel balcony. The view from here was stunning, capturing the Hollywood Hills in their full glory. If he leaned to the left he could get a glimpse of the white ‘D’ that formed the end of the Hollywood sign.
It looked tarnished.
A mouthful of beer did nothing to calm his nerves. Nor did the incessant red flash of his landline voicemail, and the vibrating of his mobile phone in his pocket. No matter where he turned, his life was totally connected; he couldn’t escape the enquiring journalists even if he tried. And the thought of what Serena might have said about his father . . .
‘Hey! What are you doing home? I thought you would be in crisis meetings all day.’ Will threw his jacket across the back of an easy chair, then leaned down to slide off his shoes. ‘Did your agent have any bright ideas?’
‘No.’ Sam’s answer was short and sweet. He didn’t feel up to going through the details once again, he was too exhausted for that. Will had known him for long enough not to bother persisting, Sam would open up when he was ready.
The two of them had met on their first day at RADA. Sam had walked in nervously, feeling that he’d only been given a place on the acting course because of his father’s influence. Out of his comfort zone, he’d hung around at the back of the class, an onlooker in a room full of extroverts. Their instructor had asked them to be flightless birds, staring with envy at their airborne counterparts.
‘Well this is a load of old bollocks.’ A deep voice had come from Sam’s left. ‘I thought we’d have to be weeping willows. I’ve been practising the arm movements all week.’
Since that morning in the drama theatre, the two had become fast friends, climbing through the ranks together, until in their final year they were fighting each other for all the leading roles. When it came to their showpiece play, they were both surrounded by admirers, though it was always Will who was tipped for the top. It had been a surprise to both of them that Sam had been the first to make it.
‘Your, ah, folks called earlier.’ Will looked hesitant when he said it. More than most, he was aware of Sam’s fractured relationship with Foster. ‘They left a message on the voicemail.’
The mention of his parents was enough to make Sam feel nauseous. Fuck Charles and Serena Sloane. The two of them were nothing more than snakes in the grass.
‘Them and a hundred others.’ Sam looked at the landline once again. ‘It doesn’t matter, anyway, it’s not like I ever return Foster’s calls.’
‘It wasn’t your dad. It was your mum. And Izzy called later, too.’
Sam groaned. His sisters idolised him, and he adored them right back. The last thing he wanted was for them to hear anything Serena Sloane had to say. It would tear the family apart.
‘I can’t talk to them, not right now. I need to get my head straight somehow. I can’t even hear myself think here, surrounded by the damn paparazzi. I only have to leave the gates to find myself being stalked.’
Will grimaced. ‘Yeah, the bloodsuckers were crowded around the gate when I came in. A few of them started shouting questions at me.’
‘What did you say?’ Sam leaned forward. ‘Did you answer them?’ His eyes shifted to his friend.
‘Hell no. You know I wouldn’t say anything. And anyway, it’s not as if there’s much to tell them. You went out with her a few times, hooked up, and that was it.’
‘That’s not what she’s saying. Did you know they’re all calling me “The Jackhammer”? They’ve made me out to be as kinky as fuck.’ He couldn’t mention the other stuff. It was personal, and painful as hell.
Will laughed, shaking his head. ‘Oh man, it could be so much worse. What if she’d said you were a bad lay?’
But Sam wasn’t smiling. ‘I just wish she’d shut the hell up.’
‘Well that’s not going to happen, not while she’s getting her fifteen
minutes of fame. So you’re going to have to learn to live with it, or go and hide under a rock somewhere. This is Hollywood, man, and you’re famous. It’s just how it works.’
Sam couldn’t help but hear an echo of his ex-agent in Will’s words.
‘A rock to hide under sounds good right about now.’
‘There isn’t a rock in the world that you can hide behind, man. As far as the paparazzi are concerned, the Oscarnominated Sam Carlton is fair game.’
Sam rubbed his face with the palm of his hand. ‘I hate this damned town. Whatever happened to the place where dreams are made? It’s a nightmare.’
‘You’re exaggerating. And anyway, we both know how this industry works. We sold our soul to the devil for a piece of fame.’ Will grinned. ‘And it’s worth it, isn’t it?’
‘I don’t know if it is any more,’ Sam said. ‘All I know is I can’t sit around here while people are reading all this crap about me. I need to get out of town for a while.’
‘But where would you go?’ Will frowned. ‘The paps will just follow you. If you’re thinking of going back to London, it’s just as bad there.’
Sam shuddered. ‘No, I’m definitely not going to London. But I could go to Italy,’ he said, mulling the thought over in his head. ‘To Varenna, I mean. The villa there is pretty much isolated from everything.’
Will raised his eyebrows. During their time at RADA he’d spent his summers with Sam’s family at Villa Palladino. Lazy days hanging out by the pool, evenings wandering into the village for good food and wine. ‘It’s an option, I guess. But isn’t your family there? I thought you were trying to avoid them.’
Sam shook his head. ‘Not this year. Foster’s directing a show in Paris, and Mom and the girls are spending the summer there with him. They’ve left the villa in the care of Sandro and Gabi, and we both know they’d leave me alone.’