by Alison Bond
‘It shouldn’t,’ said Riley, mentally noting the good quote. Serena practically talked in headlines. ‘But you have to admit, it’s unusual.’
‘Don’t print it, Riley. Please? I’ll do anything.’ The kind of arrangement she was proposing was obvious.
‘Don’t, Serena. I can’t look at you that way any more.’
She dropped his arm as if it burnt her. ‘I can make a good living by men looking at me that way. That’s what you’re taking from me.’
‘It’s my job,’ said Riley.
Serena walked away from him, back into her apartment complex.
Riley watched her go and realized he had been wrong. He could still look at her that way after all.
On Monday morning Lynsey got stuck in traffic. The fumes from the freeway were making her feel nauseous. The day was grey and sweaty like a forgotten T-shirt at the bottom of a gym bag. Suffocate from the heat or die from chemical poisoning? Reluctantly, she wound up her window. Never in a million years did she think that the one thing she would miss about London would be the public transport system, but right now she’d gladly take a seat on the top deck of a happy red bus over another hour of this.
Tension crept into her shoulders and the base of her neck like a chill. She shook her head from side to side to try to relax her muscles but the knot of anxiety was lodged firmly in the pit of her stomach. Serena’s telephone line had been engaged all weekend long. Probably with calls from friends and family congratulating her on her television performance. But they had to talk. Lynsey knew that as soon as she got into the office Max was going to ask her about Serena again. He had watched Lynsey like a suspicious teacher since their little chat and she was sure that he knew she was lying. It wouldn’t help that, barring a miracle, she was going to be late. Impatiently, she leant on her horn. The jarring blare only exacerbated her stress. She did it again. ‘Come on!’ she shouted out to the row of brake lights ahead.
Yes, she was sure that the rest of the road-users were as frustrated as she was, but she was willing to bet that they didn’t have a boss like Max. Then again, this was Hollywood, they probably all had bosses very like Max indeed. She was about to punch the horn for a third time but she caught herself in the moment. It was so pointless to be stressed out about the traffic, something that she couldn’t control. Getting angry at cars was a senseless waste of energy. She needed to make the best out of a bad situation and use the delay to her advantage. It was just a state of mind. This wasn’t a traffic jam; this was the unexpected gift of time.
She switched on her phone and called her answering service. She gave her name and was asked to hold. Something about unusual activity on her account. After a while she was put through to a hostile call advisor who suggested that if her number of incoming calls was likely to remain at this level she would need to upgrade her service.
‘Why?’ she asked him. ‘How many calls have there been exactly?’
‘Around three hundred,’ he said. ‘But that number rises every minute.’
Her cellphone beeped. New voicemail messages. She dialled her voicemail and was told that her mailbox was full. She listened to the first message.
‘Hey, Disco, it’s Riley. You held out on me, but it’s cool, I respect you for it. Fourteen, it’s crazy! So anyway, I’ve just finished with Serena and I wanted to give you a headsup. We’ve decided to leak the story to the press to publicize our exclusive. Maximize sales. Give me a call.’
What the hell was going on?
Lynsey knew she was in trouble from the minute she set foot inside the CMG building. The receptionists gave her cold looks that were loaded with disdain. As she walked down the corridors of power she felt eyes briefly on her. Even the armour of her matching black trouser suit couldn’t protect her.
Arriving at her office she saw a cardboard box on the floor beside her chair and the new guy from the mail-room installed at her desk.
‘Sheridan?’ she said, but Sheridan was on the phone and held up her palm to signal ‘wait’.
But Max was quicker. He wound up his call with lightning speed. ‘Sounds great. I’ll get back to you, yeah? Soon.’
‘You! He pointed his finger at Lynsey as he put down the phone and, with all the enthusiasm of an actor promoting a dud, she walked towards him. She knew him well enough by now. She was in deep shit.
‘Get your stuff,’ he said, ‘and get out.’
She tried to speak but he stopped her by pointing again, jabbing his finger to punctuate his words. ‘Don’t you say One. Single. Thing. I don’t want to hear it. I’ve been on the phone with the producer that hired your client and he informs me that Serena’s agent is not only called Lynsey Dixon but also speaks with a British accent and is, I quote, “kinda perky”. You even have the same cell number, so try and tell me again that this isn’t you.’
‘Max, I could just –’
‘Not one word, I said. Now if you don’t mind, we’re all pretty busy here. And all these fucking calls you keep getting about this girl don’t help.’
‘Max,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘So am I,’ he said. ‘I put my trust in you and all I asked for in return was a little honesty and commitment.’
Lynsey desperately tried to keep the smile off her face. Max was pissed off and she couldn’t blame him. Honesty and commitment were important in this kind of environment and she never should have lied, but Max sounded a bit like a disgruntled girlfriend.
This wasn’t a joke, he was serious. She was unemployed. Don’t smile.
‘Are you laughing at me?’ said Max, incredulously.
‘No,’ she said. ‘No, Max, I’m not.’
‘Just get out,’ he said. ‘Oh, and tell your fourteen-year-old superstar that if she wants a decent agent she should give me a call.’
Lynsey picked up her cardboard box, which contained only a white T-shirt that she’d ruined with spilt grape juice and a postcard of the Hollywood sign that she had meant to send to her mother. Across the corridor she could see another CMG employee staring at her and then quickly averting his eyes when she challenged his gaze. Max was on to his next call already and the cogs of the CMG machine turned smoothly without her. Her presence was no longer required. She tried to hold her head high as she walked away but this scene was heavy. People moved out of her way as she passed as if failure might be contagious.
Wait a second. Rewind. What was that he’d said? Fourteen? Serena Simon, the hottest piece of ass on the west coast, was just fourteen? How scandalous, how exciting! There had always been something mysterious about Serena. She couldn’t wait to speak to her. And Max wanted to represent her which was fantastic news. Serena deserved a top agent like Max. And it didn’t matter that Lynsey didn’t work there any more because… because…
The implications were crashing down around her like hailstones. She had lost her job. What now? Fly back to England and move in with her mum and dad while she tried to find a new direction? They had been so excited, how was she supposed to explain that she had failed?
Deep breaths. She’d only been unemployed for five minutes. It was a little too soon to panic. There was no way this was over.
24
Lynsey was disgusted. Riley didn’t look the slightest bit ashamed of himself. In fact he looked as excited as a six-year-old at Disneyland. In this age of restrictive PR, agency photographs and no comment, it was rare for a celebrity journalist to get an honest-to-God front-page exposé. The natural high from such a score was plain to see in the three-foot grin across Riley’s face.
‘Do you wanna see?’ he said, throwing a mock-up of the next Junket front cover across his desk.
SERENA SIMON TEEN SENSATION REVEALS ALL
The headline screamed at her.
FOURTEEN!
EXCLUSIVE PICTURES!
THE SECRETS SERENA NEVER KNEW!
THE TRUTH ABOUT SERENA’S OLDER MAN!!
MY DAUGHTER THE STAR – a father speaks
The cover shot was one of Serena�
�s finest studio pictures. A head and shoulders with the straps of her top airbrushed out suggesting that she was naked and a look in her eyes that said, ‘Come on, I dare you.’
‘Nice picture,’ said Lynsey.
‘You think?’ said Riley. ‘I wanted something a little less jailbait but then I guess that’s the point, isn’t it?’
‘You dickhead,’ she said. ‘Do you have any idea what you’ve done?’
‘Given your client enough free publicity to last her into her twenties.’
‘You could have told me. I’ve been fired, Riley.’
‘Who by?’
‘What do you mean who by? From my job, by Max.’
‘Oh.’
She expected that to take the stupid smile off his face. All smug about his big exclusive with no concern for the wider consequences. No concern for her. Yeah. Oh.’
‘Could have been worse.’ He shrugged. ‘Could have been Serena. She’s a golden goose, that one.’
‘She’s not going to want to stick with me.’
‘Let me speak to her.’
‘So she’s your new best friend? After this? Thanks for the offer, Riley, but don’t put yourself out.’
Riley looked confused.
‘I was being sarcastic.’ Lynsey took a final look at the salacious picture and threw the mock-up back to him. ‘But congratulations on your big story. Who’d have guessed?’
‘What? You mean you didn’t know?’
‘Not a clue,’ she said. ‘She’s not a kid.’
‘I know. Are you sure all her contracts and stuff are legal?’
‘No, not at all. Shit. I hadn’t even thought of that.’ Lynsey slumped into the chair opposite him. ‘This is a mess.’
‘Hey, seriously, I’m real sorry that this is turning out bad for you but, well, I was…’
‘… Only doing your job, I know.’
‘She’s going to be a massive star,’ said Riley.
‘So she says.’
At the corner of Lynsey’s mind was the sense of a possibility, an opportunity that she could drag out of this crisis. She shut her eyes to try and fasten on it. If Serena was going to be as famous as they said then maybe there was a way to stay here after all.
Lynsey’s cellphone sang out. ‘Hello?’
‘Lynsey, it’s Melanie. What the hell is going on? Max said you left CMG. Oh, and he also said you need to give back your phone.’
‘They fired me.’
‘What?’ shrieked Melanie. ‘What did you do?’
‘It’s a long story.’
‘But, I need you. What am I supposed to do? Who’s going to do all my stuff?’
‘Max has a new guy, I think his name is Andrew.’
‘But what about my travel and stuff, my schedule? You know how I like things done. And the trainer, did you ask Justice about a personal trainer?’
‘I asked. They were going to get back to me today,’ said Lynsey.
‘How can they get back to you if you’re not there?’
‘They’ll get back to Andrew,’ said Lynsey, patiently, as if explaining to a child. She shouldn’t mind Melanie’s attitude. Lynsey had known that Melanie’s first thoughts would be for herself. Her self-preservation mechanism was overblown. Why did Melanie always need to be the centre of any drama? ‘Andrew’s great. You should call him, introduce yourself.’
‘I don’t want to introduce myself,’ said Melanie. ‘He should know who I am.’
‘He does. Of course he does. I just meant to say hello. If there’s anything you need he’ll see to it.’ Lynsey realized that she was pitching her replacement like she was happy about this situation, and she was suddenly tired of Melanie. After all, technically, she didn’t work for her any more. ‘I got fired today. I’m sorry if that’s inconvenient for you.’
‘Can you just do one thing? I want to go back to London before we start shooting. I was thinking Sunday, or maybe Monday, for five days? Will you book the flights and make sure it’s Virgin Upper or Icelandic or something, nothing too political, you know? And will you try and pre-book the seat so that I’m next to the exit and I’ll be taking…’ Melanie paused for several seconds. ‘Joseph,’ she said. ‘I’ll be taking Joseph.’
They both knew that Melanie had just momentarily forgotten the name of her first-born child. The recognition of that fact hung awkwardly between them. Melanie attempted a breezy laugh. ‘God! Hormones, you know? I’m all over the place. You can see how much I need you.’
‘I’m sorry, Melanie, I can’t. It’s not my job any more.’
‘I’ll give you two hundred dollars if you do it.’
Lynsey stopped protesting. There is nothing like easy money to appeal to a girl’s better nature. ‘Okay.’
‘And get me a car at the other end. With a driver.’ Melanie hung up.
Two hundred dollars for fifteen minutes’ work. Nice one.
Riley looked on inquisitively. ‘More problems?’
‘Maybe, maybe not.’ Lynsey’s mind was focusing. Narrowing in on the possibilities and getting them into shape. Melanie still needed her. Serena would need her now more than ever. ‘I need to speak to Serena.’
‘Good luck,’ said Riley. ‘I’ve been trying her all weekend but I think she’s gone to ground.’
‘How was she on Friday?’ asked Lynsey.
‘Upset. She tried to talk me out of it.’
‘And you just left her?’ said Lynsey. ‘You just left her upset?’
‘Yeah. I mean she’s a big girl –’
‘No,’ said Lynsey. ‘No, she isn’t.’ She grabbed her bag and the mock-up cover. ‘Can I take this? Thanks.’
Riley didn’t have time to say no.
Instead of going out and celebrating her screen debut Serena stayed in her apartment for the whole weekend and cried. The telephone started ringing at about ten o’clock and eventually she unplugged it. She didn’t want to talk to anyone. People would be laughing at her. After all her efforts they would know that she was just a kid, a little kid. She had enough money saved for a few months but if she couldn’t get another job here then there was no point in sticking around and, let’s face it, she couldn’t go home. This isn’t the way she had wanted it to be. She had thought that she would be able to keep it a secret, get some big publicity agent to stifle any rumours. Didn’t fame come with a certain level of protection?
She wondered how much Frank had been paid. Riley refused to tell her. She hoped it was worth destroying her career. She lay flat on her back in the middle of the room and hot, bitter tears marbled her cheeks. She hardly ate and when she slept it was fitful. She just lay like that and listened to the cars drive by until they sounded like the ocean.
There was someone at the door and they weren’t going away. They were banging continually and even when Serena shoved her head under a pillow she could still hear it. She ignored it for almost ten minutes before cracking.
She threw open the door.
Lynsey looked at Serena with considerable relief and a new kind of respect. She felt like hugging her, but restrained herself.
‘What?’ said Serena.
‘Have you actually seen this?’ Lynsey showed her the mock-up of Junket magazine.
Serena looked at it reluctantly. At least they had used a good shot for the cover. ‘And I don’t want to.’
‘Well, perhaps you should. Maybe then you’d stop feeling sorry for yourself, drag your arse off the pity-pot and come out to lunch with me. We have a lot to talk about.’
Serena recoiled instinctively and backed up against the wall. ‘I can’t.’
‘No one will recognize you, you look like shit. And Serena, if you ever take your phone off the hook again, you’re fired.’
*
Lynsey took Serena for a long drive. She knew from experience that people talk more freely when they know your eyes are on the road. Serena told Lynsey the truth about her miserable life and her escape plan, how she was going to be famous and how it all seemed to have bee
n working up until now. Her voice was flat and full of remorse. Lynsey realized that Serena was leading up to an apology.
‘Serena,’ she said. ‘You’re not in trouble. Nobody’s angry with you.’
‘Not even you?’
‘Maybe a little bit at first, but honestly I think what you’ve done is incredible.’
‘Not really. Anyone could do it if they looked like me.’
‘Don’t be stupid,’ said Lynsey and then immediately regretted calling her stupid. It was the one thing she knew Serena didn’t like. ‘What I mean is, you’ve worked really hard to get where you are. You’re determined, and it’s all coming good.’
‘Until now.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘Nobody will want me now.’
‘Serena, the phones have been going crazy all weekend with shit for you.’
‘Like more interviews and stuff?’ said Serena, her brow furrowing in confusion.
‘What? No, with meetings, with offers.’ Lynsey had finally collected all her messages and it was true: between Riley’s big story and Serena’s performance at the weekend the interest in her was unprecedented. ‘Serena, you need to decide what you want to do because right now you can do just about anything you want.’
‘Really? You’re not mad?’
They had stopped at a red light and this time Lynsey couldn’t resist. She leant across and gave Serena a cuddle. ‘No. I’m excited.’
They ended up at a diner eating big plates of cheesy fries. One of America’s finest inventions in Lynsey’s book. California could pretend to be zealously health conscious but it would never cast out its fatty comfort food completely. The greasy cheese dripped between her fingers and was smeared all over Serena’s face making her look more like a child than ever.
‘I have to tell you something,’ said Lynsey. ‘I lost my job.’ Lynsey explained what had happened at CMG that morning. ‘But I’ve given it some thought,’ she said. ‘I’d love to keep working with you, if you’ll have me. I don’t mind splitting my commission with a lawyer on the tricky contracts, until I’m up to speed. I think you can take accelerated courses in contractual law, I’ll check. But we work well together, don’t you think?’