Role of a Lifetime: Out of Hollywood Romance

by Cora Davies

  Friday late afternoon with a couple hours to spare before she was supposed to meet with Eric, she stood in front of her bedroom mirror. She was wearing her usual-dark jeans and an old band t-shirt. She dressed like she was still a teenager in the late nineties but did own a couple nice things she bought when she first started dating Herb. She quickly realized he did not notice one way or the other what she was wearing; so many pieces still had tags attached. Her date attire just became her comfortable shirts that did not have a hole in them. She felt like she faced a dilemma. As much as she did not want to treat Eric James like he was anything special, she also did not want to come off as a country bumpkin and take him down to the diner in her favorite AC/DC shirt and worn pair of jeans. Though the thought sounded nice.

  They were meeting at the only fancy place in town-heels and a dress it was. Nothing too sexy. She didn't want him to think anything was happening. She was sure he was used to the kinds of things that happened to men like him after a fancy dinner meeting. But she was ready to listen to his whole speech, tell him absolutely not, and send him on his way. But she was going to look intimidating in a black dress while she did it. Not a little black dress but her long, lace collared, old lady black dress.

  Hair in a bun. Don't bother with the contacts kind of night. She looked at herself in the mirror. She looked like a scary teacher or librarian.

  Or oh no.

  Like a kinky one.

  She snapped a photo of herself in the long mirror and sent it to Gretel.

  SOS Dinner meeting with Eric James. What does this look say?-H

  She kicked off her black heels and sat down on the edge of the bed. Should she wear a pants suit? Her text message chime went off.

  Like he's been a bad boy and you want to punish him. And oh my God, why didn't he ask me out for a date?-G

  It's not a date, it's a meeting. And how about a pants suit.-H

  Hailey peeled off the black dress and hung it back up in her closet. She dug around towards the back. In the clothes she only wore once or twice a year-when she would head back to the city and go for a night out with Gretel. Maybe she could wear one of them. Just put a sweater over top?

  Do not, I repeat, do not, wear a pants suit. Wear the red dress. Please, for the love of god, wear the red dress.-G

  No, that is more of like my "fuck me" dress.-H

  So?-G

  I have a boyfriend.-H

  Her phone was silent for a moment and then chimed again. Hailey pulled the red dress out from the back of the closet. With a black pullover sweater, it would not be too trashy.

  Please tell me you are not still with the tax guy?-G

  Accountant. And his name is Herb.-H

  His name tonight... could be Eric James.-G

  Red dress, black pullover. Hair down. Contacts in. Flats on. There, much better. Hailey looked at the clock. Still 90 minutes to go.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Eric opened the hotel room closet and searched for the bag that would be labeled Friday night. They had all been delivered by plane then taxi last night. Eric loved the perks of money. He was grateful Hannah labeled them all for him since she was not able to take a few days away from the household right now. They were transitioning the production staff and equipment into a building they finally bought for his new company. The thought both pleased him and worried him. He was looking forward to having the quiet of his house back when he returned, but at the same time, he would miss being able to find someone to talk to about the business at a seconds notice.

  He pulled the Friday suit out of the closet and wondered since when have I stopped knowing how to dress myself? Hailey would see right through him the minute they sat down at dinner. She would see a grown man who was not in charge of anything. He could not even pick out his own Friday night suit.

  Eric put the suit back in the closet. Hannah had studied the restaurant's attire, the kind of people who attended dinner at said restaurant, the climate, and what men in the area wore most commonly out to dinner on a Friday night. It seemed like a waste. It seemed ridiculous. It especially seemed ridiculous in this town.

  He had only been here for two days, one of which he spent sleeping. The other he spent walking around town under a beanie and sunglasses hoping to not be recognized. He was not. Not even once. Not even when he passed over his debit card at a diner where he had lunch today. The waiter did not even seem to look at the name on the card. They just ran it through the machine. People here were more trusting than people in LA. More laid back. Never had the fact that he did not pick out his own clothes stick out more to him.

  He could wear the backup suit.

  What a rebel.

  Eric opened the email on his cell phone for what felt like the hundredth time that day. He was expecting a message from the private investigator he had hired. Eric requested more information on Hailey. He wanted to know what made her tick before he went into this meeting. But still nothing. The PI had warned him it might take more than a day or two. This woman had buried her name deep. The PI was not even sure Hailey Rogers was her real name. So many lies, so many lies.

  Eric dropped the phone on the bed and flipped on the news as he dressed. He sat down to tie the laces on his shoes when they had the update on the helicopter crash in the Caribbean. He had been following the story since it unfolded last week. There were three passengers on board; the pilot, a waitress from somewhere in the Midwest, and Jon Duncan the actor.

  Jon's father was a friend of Eric and Raymond's, and the boys had spent time together as children. Jon was in his early thirties, married to a socialite, and an Oscar-nominated actor. He was notorious for getting in bar fights, which kept him in the tabloids often. Because of those fights, Eric and Raymond had parted ways with Jon years ago. He had been on a cruise with his wife and had to fly back as an emergency in order to re-shoot a few scenes for his newest movie. The waitress had been on the flight for some undisclosed reason. Or maybe the news had disclosed the reason and Eric could not remember what he had heard about her.

  Jon was a hothead but a good man underneath it all. He would certainly be missed in Hollywood.

  Eric straightened his tie in the mirror on his way to the door. He sighed. Maybe he should just wear the damn suit Hannah told him to. He quickly changed, then was on his way to see Hailey.

  ***

  Eric was ten minutes late to dinner but still waited another fifteen minutes for Hailey to arrive. He was recognized by the staff and a few other patrons almost instantly as he entered the candlelit restaurant, and for once he thought that was probably a good thing. In a small town like this, they were not going to kick him out of a nice place while he waited for his dinner guest if he was Eric James. No, in fact, they brought complimentary champagne.

  The restaurant overlooked a lake. Spring had come to Colorado but he could tell parts of it were still frozen. Eric watched as a small boat with a few men came closer, and wondered what it would be like to be out on a boat like that. For fun anyway. He had only been on boats for movie shoots before.

  Eric jumped as the phone in his pocket began to buzz. He looked around. Normally he did not answer his phone when he was out to dinner, but there was no sign of Hailey yet.

  "Hello?" Eric said.

  "Baby," Sandy cried. She was drunk, he could tell in that one word.

  "Sandy, I'm at a meeting right now-" Eric started flicking the edge of the tablecloth. He really had to get her out of his life.

  "I didn't get invited to Jacob's party," she whined. Eric squinted trying to think of which party she was talking about.

  "Sure, there was an invite that came." Where had Eric seen the red invitation sitting? Surely Hannah would know, but she would not pass that information onto Sandy.

  "Yeah, but it was for you and a guest. They wouldn't let me crash without you." Sandy was making odd whining noises. "It was Jacob's divorce party, devil theme!"

  "Sorry I'm late," Hailey said as she plopped into the seat across from Eric.

&nb
sp; "Sandy, I gotta go. My meeting just arrived," Eric said, smiling apologetically at Hailey. He was stunned by how beautiful she looked. Her hair had been pulled back into a tight ponytail the other day and he had not realized how long it was. But it hung around her shoulders and part way down her back.

  "No, wait, when are you coming home?" Sandy asked.

  "Soon."

  "Tonight?" Sandy asked and Eric could not tell if that was joy or stress he heard in her voice.

  "Not tonight. Look, I'll call you later, okay?" Eric said hanging up on Sandy before she could answer. "Sorry, that was Sandy, she can be a bit... I don't even know the word for it. She's young."

  "Your girlfriend, right?" Hailey asked taking a sip from the glass of water in front of her. She grabbed a roll from the basket and began to butter it. "I'm starving."

  "You could call her that," Eric said watching as Hailey spread the butter onto the piece of bread. She was going to eat bread? And butter? He could not remember the last time he had dinner with a woman who ate carbs.

  "Could call her that... What else would you call her?" Hailey asked raising an eyebrow as she took a bite. She offered him the basket, but he shook his head and declined. "Ohhhh, fiancee?"

  "No! Sorry." He said no so loud he caused Hailey to flinch and the couple at the next table to look over at them. "We are not headed in the marriage direction. We are headed in the opposite direction."

  "Oh, I'm sorry," Hailey said, and she genuinely seemed sorry. Then he realized he should not have said anything about his thoughts about ending his relationship with Sandy.

  "Look, I hope you understand, that is just between you and me. Just two industry professionals..." he trailed off.

  "I wouldn't tell anyone," she said with the hint of a sound of laughter in her voice. "I mean, I don't think anyone I know really cares about who you're dating or not dating."

  Eric furrowed his eyebrows. "No I mean like the press."

  That time the laughter was not a hint, but a full-blown belly laugh. It startled Eric, and he felt his forehead wrinkle as his eyebrows raised. Hailey raised her hand as if to say wait, and she stopped laughing. "I don't mean to laugh, it's just... the only person from the press I know is a guy name Ron Tracey, and he writes for the high school newspaper."

  Eric felt his cheeks redden at the edges. "Okay, I might be a long way from Hollywood, but I know tabloids are sold all over America." Eric looked around the room. He wanted to make a point to Hailey, that he was not just conceited but that there were people staring at him. But no one was. Except maybe the hostess-who had flirted the whole way to his seat and brought the champagne-no one looked his way.

  "I'm sure there are people in this town that buy them, but you probably just won't find them here," Hailey said as she opened her menu. She frowned for a moment as she seemed to study the page before shutting the menu and laying it across her empty bread plate. "There are three very distinct type of people who live in this town." Hailey began to tick off on her fingers. "You've got old money, new money, and no money. People with money are too busy spending it to care what you are doing here, and the people with no money are too busy trying to make money to worry about what you're doing."

  The waitress approached at this moment and took their dinner orders. Eric was surprised yet again as Hailey ordered a beer. More carbs. Of course, this would probably be why she had a healthy glow and did not look like she was going to snap in half if a sudden gust of wind came their way. When the waitress was gone, Eric picked the conversation up where it ended.

  "So, where do you fall?" Eric asked automatically flashing his movie star smile. He forced it down a notch when instead of smiling back, she glared at him.

  "Fall?" Hailey asked as she cocked her head to the side.

  "Old money or new money?"

  "Or no money?" She grabbed another roll from the basket. "I'm somewhere between no money, and new money."

  "How so?" Eric asked. He was fascinated with the way she spread the softened butter onto the honey brown roll. He forced himself to look up from her hands and back to her eyes. But her eyes were on the boat that had just docked. "I've always been under the impression bestselling authors are well off. One who owns a ranch on top of that..."

  One corner of her mouth turned up, but she was not committed to the smile he could see. "My husband and I fought our way tooth and nail for every bit of money we had. The ranch was his dream and the writing was mine. I have no idea what I'm doing, so basically the money from the writing goes to keeping the ranch afloat."

  "Really? You know, your husband does not look like a ranch type guy," Eric said trying to picture Herb wrangling cattle or whatever they did on a ranch. The comment gained him Hailey's full attention, and she stared at him as if he were crazy. "I don't mean any offense by it, he just looks more like a desk jockey."

  Hailey laughed again and the sound was like music to his ears. He almost shook his head to keep her laugh from twisting around inside him. What was wrong with him? Get on her good side, talk about the book, the movie, her career. Stop thinking about how good she looks. How beautiful she sounds. How she keeps making the room spin.

  "Do you mean Herb? Herb is not my husband, Herb is..." Hailey looked as if she was looking for a word. "He's just Herb. We've been dating for six months."

  "Okay, first question. Your husband is okay with you dating other men? And two, you are allowed to date other men and you picked Herb. Just Herb?" Eric felt confused.

  "Paul was my husband," Hailey said touching a locket around her neck when she said his name. "He's been dead nearly eight years."

  "I'm so sorry. I feel like an ass," Eric said. He could strangle his PI right now. He needed that information on Hailey and he needed it before tonight. Then he would not have stuck his foot in the mouth like that.

  "And there is nothing wrong with Herb," Hailey said looking at Eric defensively. "He is sturdy and dependable."

  "So, Herb is an orthopedic shoe?" Eric asked as he realized for the first time that flirting might actually be on the table. He would rethink his whole game plan for tonight. She did not sound in love with Herb-he was just a man she was dating. And lucky for Eric, he already thought this Hailey was hot.

  "No," she said taking a long pull off of her beer and rolling her eyes. "He is not a shoe. Herb is stability. I've dated other men since my husband passed. I tried finding another ‘the one’, and I dated all sorts of guys thinking I'd find someone like me. Let me tell you, industry person to industry person..." she lowered her voice and leaned in conspiratorially. "Artists, performing, musical, written, painting, whatever... Artists are fucking crazy."

  He leaned back and laughed. A real one for the first time in a while. He knew it. He knew all too well how crazy artists were. He came from a family full of them after all. A town overflowing with them. Talented and not so talented.

  "I'll drink to that." He lifted his scotch and she touched the bottom of her beer glass to it. "But, doesn't that mean you're crazy too?"

  Hailey shrugged. "More than likely."

  "So then Herb...?"

  "I figure since I'm not going to fall in love again anyway, I might as well just go for someone stable. Someone to fulfill that companionship need," Hailey said.

  "That doesn't seem very fair to just Herb, does it?" Eric asked. He might be relieved she was not married, but part of him felt sorry for the man.

  "He knows. He feels the same way. He's been trying to take his father's business "to the next level" ever since we met. He works crazy long hours, goes out of town a lot, and sleeps at his office most nights. He doesn't have time or interest in a full relationship. We have weekly dinner dates and call each other when we're having a personal problem." Hailey sounded matter of fact. "It isn't a forever after fairy tale ending, but I already had that and lost it. With Herb I fulfill a need and I move on with my life."

  "That is possibly the most depressing thing I've ever heard," Eric said as their food was set down in front of them. H
ailey looked sadly out over the lake. She looked as though she was studying each detail laid out, each wave in the water, and each branch on the trees. Eric wanted to know what was going on in her head. Finally, she shrugged her shoulders then looked back at him.

  "It isn't really. If it wasn't for what we have, I think we'd be really lonely. We lead lonely lives. Herb and his numbers. Me and my words."

  "The way Herb looked at you... are you sure he still feels the same way about the relationship that you do?" Eric asked as he wondered how thick Hailey would let him lay it on. "I mean, you're a beautiful, successful, and sexy woman, and Herb is a... Well, he looks like a dork. Do you think his mind is really as clear about this as yours?"

  Hailey turned pink at Eric's compliments just as he hoped she would. So she was not completely solid and impenetrable. It just took a little extra work than he was used to. She looked down at the table and chewed slightly on her bottom lip, and it was obvious to Eric she was not used to being complimented. He suddenly wanted to grab her by her shoulders and kiss her. Make her remember what it felt like to be held by a real man with real passion, not just filling a need.

  She did not look up at him but began to play with the pasta in front of her. More carbs. God, maybe he wanted to kiss her to remind himself what it felt like to be touched by a real woman, and not some twig. Some empty industry shell. Hailey took a deep breath and looked back at him with a resolve in her eyes-the pink tint in her cheeks gone.

  "He is not interested in anything more in our relationship than we already have. He tells me time and again how reckless I am with money, and how close I am to losing everything."

  "Okay, well what about passion?" Eric asked, feeling his voice drop without telling it to. He reached across the small table and rested his hand on hers; she flinched but did not move. He stroked the back of her hand with his thumb and willed her not to break eye contact with him. But he was the one who looked away first.

  "I have passion. That is why I have the ranch." Hailey jerked her hand away. "I have a passion to keep my husband alive for myself and my daughter, and that is why I will fight for my ranch tooth and nail."