The Hollywood Tales: Brandon Books 1-4

by Audra Cole

  He scoffs. “Really?”

  “James, go home. Don’t bother coming around again because I won’t be here.” I turn back to the door and turn my key in the lock.

  “I offered you the life you always wanted—a home and a family. You’re trading all that in to be some guy’s arm candy,” he says to my back. He lets out a cold, hollow laugh before adding, “Good luck with that. Don’t call me when it crashes and burns.”

  “Why are you even here?” I can practically hear my blood pressure rising inside me. “For someone who claimed to love me, you have certainly had some questionable things to say to me the last few times we’ve spoken. If I’m such a pathetic loser, then why are you even here trying to get me back?”

  “I’m not.” He shakes his head as if in disbelief. “Tell your mother to lose my number. This was a complete waste of my time.”

  He spins on his heel and storms off to his car. I release my breath in a whoosh once he slams the door.

  ***

  “Seriously? He is unbelievable!” Ashley says when I finish telling her about my conversation with James.

  As predicted, the next day Ashley called, wanting to go shopping with me to get some new ’California-approved’ outfits, so we took the afternoon to go shopping in the city.

  “I know. I don’t know whether to call her or just not even dignify it with a response,” I say.

  “I’d drop it. You know it’s not going to do any good to question her about it, unless you want to sit through another round of the ‘but James is so perfect’ lecture,” she says with a laugh.

  “Yeah, a perfect asshole. Talk about a Dr. Jekyll, Mr. Hyde situation. Yikes!”

  “What about this?” Ashley interrupts, holding up some kind of jumper/romper thing in a splotchy floral print.

  I wrinkle my nose at her. “Really, Ash? It’s like you’ve never even met me…”

  “Fine,” she huffs, stuffing it back onto the rack. “You know what your problem is Charity?”

  “Enlighten me.”

  “You leave no room to experiment. To see where the winds will take you!”

  “Well, the winds of fashion will never take me there, so let’s just move on.” I roll my eyes.

  She laughs. “Fine, fine, no rompers.”

  We work side by side through the racks, alternating as one holds up an outfit and the other gives a nod of approval or varying faces of disgust. Somehow, along the way, it dissolves into a competition to see who can find the most atrocious article of clothing, and we are both cracking up laughing by the time Ashley marches me off to the fitting rooms. She sets up camp on one of the couches outside and waits, insisting that I come out in between each outfit change to get her final verdict.

  Alone in the dressing room, I stare at my smiling face in the mirror, and it hits me just how much I am going to miss Ashley when I move. The day is rapidly approaching and I’ve spent the past week so tangled up in the details and logistics, I haven’t had time to really let it all sink in. Everything is going to change.

  My smile fades as I think about it, and a flash of self-doubt crosses my mind. I try to shake it off, as I wiggle into the first outfit and plaster my smile back on as I go out to show Ashley the first look.

  “Charity, that is stunning!” she says, admiring the strappy black dress I’m wearing. “A definite contender for your go-to LBD. Every girl needs one.”

  “LBD?”

  She rolls her eyes. “Little black dress.”

  I spin and look at the back in the three-way mirror. “Remind me to hit up the shape wear department before we go,” I mutter. There’s nothing quite like a dressing room mirror and florescent lights to bring all your insecurities raging to the surface.

  “Oh my word, don’t be crazy!” she says. “You look amazing!”

  I smooth my hands along the front of the dress. “So I take it this one’s a keeper?”

  She nods. “Yup! Next please!”

  I pop back into the dressing room just in time to hear my phone vibrate in my purse. I pull it out and smile when Brandon’s name and picture flash onto the screen.

  “Hey!” I answer.

  “Hey beautiful, whatcha doing?”

  “I’m at the mall with Ash,” I answer. I prop the phone on my shoulder and start unzipping the dress.

  “Finding anything good?”

  “Well so far, I have a new pair of jeans, a new purse, and I think we just decided on a LBD,” I say, trying to wow him with my new fashion vocab.

  “Any chance I can get a sneak peek pic?” he asks. I can just picture his mischievous grin. “You always look smoking hot in black……”

  “How do you know what an LBD is?” I ignore his picture request.

  “Doesn’t everyone know that?” he says with a laugh.

  Apparently not everyone.

  “Now about that picture…”

  “I’ll send you one picture, then you wait and see the rest in person,” I tease. “It’ll be more fun that way, I promise.”

  “Fair enough. You get whatever you want, and I’ll wait patiently for you to get here and model it all for me,” he says, sending a little shiver down my spine as my mind wanders through his scenario, one that ends with us tangled together on the floor of a walk-in closet…

  “Cherry? You still there?” he asks, interrupting my vivid daydream.

  I blink away the mental picture and focus on his words again. “Yeah, I’m here. You’ll have to wait and see how much of this makes it down there with me. I don’t want to get too carried away. My credit cards have very little breathing room as it is,” I say, setting the dress aside after glancing at the price tag.

  “Ashley didn’t tell you?”

  “Tell me what?”

  “About our little surprise,” he says. “She called it the ultimate Pretty Woman moment.”

  “You want me to be a hooker?” I joke.

  He laughs. “No, I just mean you don’t have to pick up the tab. Go crazy baby, it’s on me.”

  “What? That’s ridiculous!”

  “No it’s not. We’re together now. I want to take care of you. Besides, I’m the reason you have to buy a whole new wardrobe. It really is the least I can do to help make the move as easy as possible for you.”

  I shake my head in disbelief, but I’m smiling like an idiot. “I don’t know what to say. Thank you doesn’t seem like enough.”

  “It is, and you’re welcome.” I can hear the smile in his voice.

  “I miss you.” I suddenly wish he was here so I could kiss him.

  “I miss you too, baby. You’ll be here before you know it,” he answers. “Now, go shop till you drop. Tell Ashley thank you for me, and make sure she picks out something for herself too.”

  “That could be dangerous,” I laugh. “But I will. I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  I hesitate for a moment before hanging up, not wanting to let him go, but also fighting the urge to be one of those ‘you hang up,’ ’no, you hang up’ kind of couples.

  I click off the phone and snap a quick selfie of the back view of the dress, arching my back to accentuate my ass. Satisfied, I send the picture to Brandon and then toss the phone back in my purse. I hear it vibrate but don’t pick it up again, knowing that I’ll only get sucked into a text conversation and I need to get going if I’m ever going to make it through the three dozen outfits Ashley is going to force upon me.

  I quickly slip on the next dress and go out to find Ashley. She’s not sitting on the couch anymore. I glance around and spot her sorting through a nearby table of sweaters. She looks up when I approach her. “That looks great too!”

  “When were you going to tell me that Brandon is paying for everything?”

  “Oh, right about the time you started fussing over how much things cost.” She laughs. “Did he call you?”

  I nod and laugh too. “He’s crazy.”

  “You have no idea,” she says.

  I cock my head. “What do
you mean?”

  She leans in close to me and whispers, “He gave me a ten thousand dollar gift card. You know, one of those pre-loaded credit card things.”

  I gasp and feel my eyes pop open. “Ten thousand dollars?”

  “Uh huh,” she confirms.

  “Wow,” I breathe, absolutely stunned.

  “You’re in the major leagues now, my dear,” she says with a giggle.

  “He does realize I could never spend that much money on clothes, right?”

  “Oh, never say never!” She winks and starts to drag me back to the dressing rooms.

  Chapter Two

  Everything is a flurry for the next few days, and it feels so busy and chaotic that I don’t have time to breathe or think. Before it all has a chance to catch up to me, I find myself standing with Ashley in line to check my bags at the airport.

  I look around at all the other people waiting to leave and a strange mix of anxiety and excitement washes over me. When my eye catches Ashley, a stab of sadness hits me too.

  She’s doing her best to be happy and supportive, but I can see the emotion behind her smile. I stayed at her house last night because I had to officially vacate my townhouse and turn over the keys. We tried to stay awake and watch a movie together, but I fell asleep pretty early, the exhaustion of the week overtaking me.

  The only bright spot in all the heaviness of leaving is that in only three short hours I will touch down at LAX and see Brandon again. It’s almost strange how much I’ve missed him. I mean, we went three years without seeing each other, but now I go half-crazy missing him in a week and a half. It’s like all the loneliness and heartache from those years apart has compounded, and we can’t stand to be separated now.

  I follow Ashley as the line inches forward. I hate that it’s silent between us, yet I can’t think of anything to say.

  Nothing I can say will make this any easier.

  We finally get to the front counter. I hoist my suitcase onto the scale before laying down my ticket confirmation and ID for the representative. Ashley rolls my other bag forward and sets it up on the scale after the first is tagged and taken behind the counter. It takes a few minutes for them to get everything checked in and to give me my boarding pass. Ashley and I turn away and start walking towards the TSA security line.

  “Time to get one last coffee?” Ashley asks, hopeful.

  I look at the line for security and glance at my watch. It will probably be cutting it close, but I nod my head, unable to say no. “I think we can manage that!”

  Ashley smiles and links her arm through mine and we walk Wizard of Oz-style over to the nearby coffee shop. We order and then plop down onto two bar stools.

  Ashley stares off into space for a long moment as she takes a drink. “Can you believe this is really happening?” she asks, bringing her gaze back to me.

  “No, not really,” I answer, shaking my head. “I can’t believe that Brandon and I are together again, after all this time. I can’t believe I’m leaving Washington.”

  “I can’t believe Brandon actually became a movie star!” Ashley says with a laugh.

  I push her arm playfully. “Hey! He’s talented!”

  “I know, I know. It just seems crazy. I mean we’ve known him since grade school. I don’t think anyone thinks their classmates will grow up to be famous.”

  I nod, still smiling. “I know what you mean. The whole thing is crazy.” My smile dissolves slightly at this.

  Ashley grabs my hand. “Ya know what they say?”

  “Hmm?” I look at her.

  “Crazy enough it just might work.”

  I smile and squeeze her hand. “Thanks Ash. What am I going to do without you?”

  “Come visit a lot?” she suggests with a sad smile.

  I return the smile and try to hold back the tears that are building.

  “Oh, no, no, no! None of that!” Ashley insists. She hops down from her stool. “I refuse to have a soggy good-bye with you. You’ll be back in a couple of weeks for the baby shower! It will feel like you never left.”

  “All right, all right. I’ll pull it together, I promise,” I say, fanning my eyes.

  She rolls her eyes at me. “Don’t you have a plane to catch?”

  “Oh, now you want me to leave?” I laugh.

  “Well, if you’re gonna make me cry, then yes!”

  Our laughter dies down and a sudden seriousness hits us. I hop off my stool and go to throw away both of our drink cups.

  “I really should get going,” I say when I turn back around.

  Ashley nods. I pull her into a tight embrace. “I am going to miss you so much.”

  “Me too,” she answers into my shoulder.

  After a few more minutes we break apart. Ashley walks with me to the security line. She gives me a quick hug and makes me promise to text her as soon as I land. I get in line and shuffle along after the other people. When it’s my turn, I give the TSA agent my ticket and ID. He ushers me forward, and I look back to give Ashley one final wave before I step forward to get scanned and finish the security process.

  ***

  The flight passes quickly and without too much trouble. I spent most of it cycling through different scenarios of how it will play out when I land and see Brandon again.

  There is always the classic ’run and jump into his arms’ scene that is a staple in romantic comedy flicks. But perhaps we’re more subtle, something like a long embrace and a sweet kiss. Or, maybe he will try to play it down for the paparazzi and we’ll just act like long-time friends rather than a couple—at least until we get to the car…hmmm…maybe that could work out after all.

  All my fantasy planning seems to have been in vain. I get off the plane but there is no sign of Brandon at the main gate. In all my excitement, I never checked my phone since turning it off for the flight. I power it up and make my way to the luggage area, thinking maybe he is meeting me there. When the screen flicks on there are two texts from him and a voicemail.

  Not a good sign.

  I stop walking and someone rams into me. I mumble an apology and step off to the side, along the wall, to check my messages.

  “I’m so sorry. I won’t be there to pick you up today. I got stuck in a meeting with my PR firm. I’ll be at the house when you get there. I promise. I’m sending a car for you. They will meet you at baggage claim. I love you!”

  And the second:

  “Can’t wait to see you!!! I have a surprise waiting for you!”

  I press the phone to my ear and listen to the voicemail which is basically the same thing he said in the texts. I frown and click off the phone before the message finishes. I stuff the phone back in my pocket and start walking again.

  It’s unbelievable to me that he won’t be here. I’m not sure if I am more angry or disappointed.

  I mean he wasn’t even planning on being in LA right now, so how could he have a meeting that’s so important he can’t get out of it to pick me up at the airport?

  For a minute, I’m tempted to text him back and say something snappy, but I take a deep breath and remind myself that he probably tried his best to get here. I know how much he wants to see me. As I stand at the luggage carousel, I scan back through previous texts in which he was going on and on about how much we miss each other. It’s slightly ridiculous to read back, and I find myself laughing at the more syrupy lines.

  There is a tap on my shoulder and I jump. I turn to see an older gentleman in a nice suit.

  “Ms. McAdams?” he asks.

  “Yes.” I realize he is probably the driver Brandon hired to pick me up.

  He holds out a hand for me to shake. “I’m Keith. Mr. Hart’s driver.”

  I shake his hand, wondering how in the world he knows who I am.

  As if sensing my confusion, he pulls up a picture of me on his cell phone. “He sent me this, so I’d be able to spot you,” he says. “And here is my card, if you want to call Mr. Hart to verify everything.”

  I nod. This is al
l so strange. I’ve never been picked up by a driver, and I don’t know the protocol. I take the card and give Keith a smile. “That won’t be necessary. Oh! There is one of my bags—one second,” I say, lunging forward.

  “Please, allow me, miss.”

  He gathers that bag and the other one when it comes down a few minutes later. He loads them onto a cart, and we head to his parked town car. He swiftly opens the door for me, and I pause before getting in, catching my first glimpse of a pack of photographers looming near the doors we just exited. A wave of anxiety swoops over me, and I can’t help but feel a little relief that Brandon isn’t here or I’m sure we would still be fighting our way through.

  “Everything all right, miss?” The driver looks at me with lines of concern etched between his brows.

  I nod and step into the car, and he softly closes the door after me before taking the luggage around to the trunk.

  A few minutes later, we are headed away from the busy airport and excitement replaces my moment of fear.

  As promised, I text Ashley and let her know I made it. I leave out the part about Brandon not being there to get me. For a moment I think to text my mom but decide against it and put my phone away. I emailed her before I left to give her the confirmation of the order I placed with a local bakery to do the cake and pastries for the baby shower. As predicted, if you ask nicely, people are willing to work with you, a lesson Valerie desperately needs to learn. At the end of the message, I assured her that I’d be back in time for the shower. She sent a reply to thank me for working out the deal with the bakery but did not mention anything about me leaving town.

  Valerie, on the other hand, caught wind of my plans and sent a colorful string of text messages to drive home her point that I am basically throwing my life away.

  I’m not sure what life it is I am supposedly throwing away to be with Brandon. I mean, let’s face it, I was working at a café making coffee and sandwiches, not formulating a plan for world peace. Of course I will miss my friends, family—well certain members—and my relatively quiet, small-town life, but I’m not sure that counts as throwing my life away.

  I suppose she’s on my mom’s side, in that she pictured my future with James. I’d be the trophy wife to a handsome, successful business man. She wants me to simulate her life, maybe as some sort of validation of her own choices. It’s not that it would be a bad life. In fact, if I am honest with myself, two or three months ago, that’s exactly the path I was on, and I was okay with it. Until I wasn’t.