The Hollywood Tales: Brandon Books 1-4

by Audra Cole

  As soon as Emelia leaves, my phone starts to buzz on the counter top. Per the producer’s instructions, all calls are to be answered on speakerphone, in order to show both sides of the conversation on the show.

  As I lift the phone, a little flutter of panic hits me when I see my mom’s name on the screen. I am halfway tempted to set the phone back down, but I also know we just got back on speaking terms, and sending her directly to voicemail wouldn’t go over well.

  “Hi Mom.”

  “Oh Charity! I’m so happy to catch you! I know how busy you are today.”

  Oh dear God, no…she’s using her phone voice. This cannot be good.

  I try to keep everything neutral. Face, voice, posture. Neutral.

  “Yeah, it’s good to hear from you,” I say.

  “Sooo…after our little chat yesterday, I had an idea that I want to run by you.”

  Oh no! Did I just wince? I did not just wince on camera.

  “Well, as you know, I’ve coordinated my fair share of weddings by now and what I was thinking, is that given your time limits, you really need someone with much more experience in these things to help you. I’ve been meaning to come visit you anyways, so I was thinking I would come down as soon as Valerie has her baby and is all settled, and I can help you get everything on track.”

  My mouth opens and closes, and I’m pretty sure I look like a fish blowing bubbles, but for the life of me, I can’t think of anything to say.

  We just got back on speaking terms less than a week ago, so it’s not exactly the ideal time to shoot down her offer to help. However, the idea of throwing her into the mix of the wedding/TV show/daily life in the spotlight seems like a worse idea than shark diving without a cage.

  “I—um—well…” I babble—hoping some plausible excuse will magically come forth—but my eye catches the camera and I don’t want to be the bitch who told her mom “stay away from my wedding” on national television…

  “Charity? What do you think?”

  Chapter Seven

  To my absolute and utter horror, I hear the word “okay” come out of my mouth. It’s like something out of an action movie: the pin on the grenade has been pulled, and time slows down as the ball of destruction careens out of control. The only difference is that in the movies, the hero usually figures out a way to stop the bomb from going off or to at least to minimize the damage. However, I am no hero, and I have no clue how to undo what I just did.

  Sigh.

  My mom is still speaking a mile a minute, but I’m not listening to anything. I’m already mentally preparing a speech to make—off camera—to get myself out of this situation.

  Eventually I extract myself from the phone call, and do my best to remain natural and composed.

  I look over at Brandon and while his face seems calm, I’m pretty sure his eyebrows say “WTF?” when he looks at me.

  Kira calls for us to stop filming so we can ’reset.’ Whatever that means. It’s interesting to know that in showbiz you can actually pause your reality.

  “Lovely! This is an exciting turn of events. I don’t know why I didn’t think about it before,” Kira says, swooping her arms in the air as soon as the camera is off. The crew members seem to take this as a nonverbal cue to take a break and they vanish. “Of course your mother would be here with you. Her little girl, getting married, planning the wedding of her dreams!”

  I fight the urge to roll my eyes. It all sounds nice and sweet, but the thing Kira doesn’t understand is…well…she hasn’t met my mother. I get a sudden chill as I picture the two of them playing tug-of-war over me for the next couple of weeks.

  “Charity, let me ask you a personal question. Is your family full of all sorts of drama?” She leans towards me in anticipation, an almost gleeful look on her face.

  I get the strong sense she is hoping for a “yes” followed by a full disclosure—which she would obviously want to film—where I sob to the camera and unpack my whole childhood for her.

  “No, not at all. Stable as an oak tree,” I answer, hoping my face doesn’t give away the truth.

  Brandon turns his back, and I think I hear a snort of muffled laughter.

  She looks deflated, but quickly bounces back. I can practically hear her mind shifting gears as she mentally cooks up a new angle. “Either way, I think it is just delightful that she will be able to be a part of the project.”

  I guess my only hope is to pray that Valerie stays pregnant for another month. However, then we would probably all end up on the cover of the National Enquirer for the longest human gestation in history. So that’s a drawback.

  I rub my temples as soon as Kira turns her attention to her phone to type some notes, and confirms something with Taylor in hushed tones.

  Brandon crosses the room and wraps his arms around me. “Stable as an oak tree? Cherry, we’re from Washington, not Louisiana.” He laughs.

  “Oh, hush. What was I supposed to say?” I refuse to let his gentle teasing cheer me up. I’m grumpy, and for now, I plan on staying that way. “I didn’t hear you jumping in to save me.”

  “I know and I’m sorry. But this whole thing is to try and get me back in America’s good graces, not look like an even bigger tool bag by telling my fiancée her mom can’t come stay with us.”

  “Fair enough,” I mumble into his chest. I shoot a sidelong glance at Kira and Taylor; they are still distracted with their quiet conversation. My brain wanders as I watch them. Suddenly, the answer I’m searching for throws itself to the front of my mind. “I know!”

  It must have come out louder than intended, because Brandon jumps slightly and Kira and Taylor snap to attention in my direction. I offer them a little wave and they go back to their work.

  “What was that all about?”

  “I figured out how to fix this. Well, at least how to make it more tolerable,” I start to explain. I dig my phone out of my pocket and start frantically texting Ashley to catch her up on the latest developments.

  “Care to share?” Brandon asks, peeking over my shoulder. “Oh I see, make Ashley come be your buffer.”

  “Is that too mean?” I bite at a hangnail as I wait for the screen to light up with her reply.

  “No, it’s survival mode.” He laughs and drops a kiss on my forehead. I’m still worried that I’m crossing a line and using her, but quickly decide I’m not. She’s my best friend. I would want her here, show or no show, to help me plan my wedding, and having her help me avoid conflict with my mom is something she’s been doing for years. My mom adores her and lets her get away with saying things I wouldn’t even try when things get really tense between us.

  Ashley’s response is a final confirmation that I’m doing the right thing.

  “Packing my bags now! Hope the guest room has a decent-sized closet.”

  ***

  Life shifts into hyperdrive and two days later, I’m pacing around the kitchen, waiting for Ashley to arrive.

  Predictably, Kira was thrilled with the idea of more house guests. I think I could invite every last uncle, aunt, cousin, and family friend to come live with us and she would exclaim “lovely” and throw her hands up in the air like it’s the best idea she’s ever heard.

  I’m beginning to think that she missed her calling, and would be more fulfilled as a circus ringleader. Then again, I probably only feel that way because the last two days have basically been a circus.

  I have spent two full, ten-hour days working on wedding planning all alone because Brandon has been back at work. Well, I’m never actually alone. It looks something like this: Kira sits across from me and unpacks the virtually endless options for place settings, gift bags, chair ribbons, candles, blah, blah, blah.

  My mother and Valeria would have a party-planning orgasm if they were here, “oohing” and “awwing” over every single sample.

  Luckily, none of this has been filmed. I guess Kira decided me sitting alone at a table, smiling and nodding along as she babbles on endlessly, isn’t great entert
ainment. That, and the fact that Brandon hasn’t been home for any of the ’fun’ due to his filming schedule, and it kind of defeats the purpose of the whole show if he’s not here too.

  So after two days of being slowly buried alive in an avalanche of wedding stuff, I am more anxious than ever to have Ashley’s help. I should have told her to bring a forklift.

  I try to act natural when I hear the doorbell and stride across the foyer to let Ashley in, but I am well aware of the three cameras focused on me.

  All I can hope, is that my Spanx are doing their job and I don’t have a VPL.

  “Ash!” I exclaim as she bursts through the open door. It takes every single ounce of will, not to crack up at the sight of her. Not that she looks bad…but actually because she looks really, really good. Like going to the prom good. She always looks well put together, no matter what she’s wearing, but tonight she is in full hair and makeup. I think she’s got on false lashes. Her jewelry is completely blinding it’s so shiny, and it lays against the black dress she is wearing to show it off to full advantage.

  I guess this means she got my text message that informed her that her entrance would be filmed.

  “Charity, dahling!” She beams as she enters the room.

  Dahling? A little smile twitches at the corner of my mouth as I desperately try to keep it together, but she does some kind of sashay into the room and I bust up laughing. Ashley starts to laugh too and soon we dissolve into a pile on the entryway floor. All the stress of the past weeks catches up to me and I just let loose into the ’can’t breathe, gasping for air, as tears roll down my cheeks’ kind of laughter. At one point, Ashley snorts and we start all over again.

  “Cut, cut, cut!” Kira shouts out above us.

  I know I should care. I should try to stand up and get it together. But I don’t. It just feels way too damn good to lie here, bellyache laughing with my best friend.

  After a good and proper lecture from Kira, we allow the filming to proceed, as I help Ashley unpack her bags in the guest room. This is less like a conversation, and more like an improvisation based on prompts from Kira. She throws out a question and then lets the camera roll as we follow through with the topic.

  We film a “reaction shot” where we act like Ashley is seeing my ring for the first time. Kira urges me to tell the back story about how the ring is actually custom created using the ring Brandon gave me when he proposed to me years ago. Then we girl talk about the wedding for a while, but I try to brush past that as quickly as possible, since my brain already feels like it’s saturated.

  Ashley drops her ’dahling’ act midway, and it begins to feel more natural. It’s almost like the cameras aren’t even there. However, I don’t let myself fully relax until the crew stops filming to take a dinner break and Ashley and I are left alone.

  “So, where’s your mom? I thought I was here to play referee?” Ashley asks, once the door is closed behind her. She takes the last pile of clothes out of her suitcase and hangs them in the closet.

  “Oh gosh! I forgot to tell you! Valerie had the baby, so she’s not coming down for a few more days.”

  “She had the baby?” Her expression is a strange mix of excitement and confusion.

  “Yeah, last night. I forgot to tell you. I guess that probably makes me the worst auntie ever, huh?” I bite my lower lip, feeling guilty. “Anyway, my mother will be there for two more days to help get Valerie settled, and then she will fly here for the dress fitting and some of the other planning. Then she will go back to Seattle for a few days to help, then back here, rinse, and repeat. It’s all mapped out on a spreadsheet somewhere on Kira’s laptop.”

  “There’s a spreadsheet?” Ashley wrinkles her nose. She’s basically allergic to organization. I pity the poor soul who does her taxes.

  “This is my reality,” I say. I flop back on the bed, once again glad the camera crew isn’t here to document my utter exhaustion.

  Chapter Eight

  The rest of the afternoon is pretty calm, as Ashley goes about the business side of the show—paperwork, paperwork, and more paperwork. Nondisclosure agreements, production contracts, waivers, on and on it goes.

  “My hand is cramping,” she complains.

  “You think that’s bad, wait for the blood sample,” I say.

  Ashley looks terror stricken, and I feel a little guilty as I laugh, before reassuring her that I’m kidding.

  After the legal stuff is out of the way, Kira starts going over the schedule. There have already been changes since this morning, so I listen along. Tonight, after dinner, we apparently have an appointment at a very posh lingerie store to film Ashley and me shopping for my wedding-night attire.

  “You’re going to be filming that?” I feel slightly violated by the idea. I mean, I’m by no means a prude, but the idea of millions of people knowing what I wear to bed with my soon-to-be-husband isn’t really in my comfort bubble.

  Kira looks flustered by my question for a moment, but quickly snaps back to her positive schtick. “Of course! We think it will be a big hit with viewers. Best friend bonding, throwing in some sex talk—nothing too spicy of course—but a little innuendo here and there. And the fact that you’re not the Hollywood norm as far as image, will only make it that much more powerful!”

  Her last comment feels like a slap in the face.

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Ashley comes roaring to my defense.

  Kira backpedals rapidly. “I just mean that Charity, you’ve come under attack for your um…body type…in the past. This uh-this gives you the chance to address the haters and show that you’re confident and sexy in your own skin.”

  I nod, almost convinced. Ashley crosses her arms across her chest, looking less convinced. I can tell that Kira has just been put on her mental watch list…not a good place to be. One more out-of-line comment and Kira is bound to get an earful.

  My phone starts to buzz, so I take this chance to escape the tension-filled room. I’m surprised to see Brandon’s name on the screen.

  “Hey!” I answer. “You’re missing the first Kira-Ashley showdown.”

  He laughs. “I’m sure there will be more. I promise to catch the next one.”

  I lean back and peek into the kitchen. Everything seems to be all right. “So, are you coming home tonight?” I cross my fingers, hoping he says yes.

  There is just enough of a pause to give me my answer without him verbalizing it. “I’m sorry, it’s going to be another long night. I was hoping you would cover for me with Kira.”

  I have a flashback to high school when I used to help him get out of fourth period so he could go to auditions in Seattle. Even though I’m annoyed, I can’t help but smile at the memory.

  “What does she have on the agenda?”

  “You’re in luck, Mr. Hart, because tonight, I’m the one in demand. Not you.”

  I sit down on the living room couch and tuck my feet up before explaining the plan.

  “How am I supposed to focus, knowing you’re out there trying on sexy lingerie? As if I didn’t miss you enough already.” His voice trails off, and I can tell I’ve lost him to fantasy land.

  “Trust me, I would much rather be with you. The idea of half a dozen dudes following me around filming as I look at panties is more than a little strange.”

  He laughs. “You sure have a way of putting things.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “How about this—you can leave Ashley at the house to duke it out with Kira, and sneak over here for a conjugal visit. What do you say?”

  I laugh and roll my eyes. “Oh yeah, sitting around in a trailer for six hours, waiting to see you for a whopping fifteen minutes sounds like a great way to spend the night.

  “I promise to make it the best fifteen minutes of your life,” he replies.

  I’m tempted to say yes, and mentally start mapping out an escape strategy. I know we aren’t going to get much alone time in the coming weeks. Between the wedding planning, camera crew, pro
duction team, Brandon’s intense work schedule, Ashley, and my mother it’s going to be a little crazy. Scratch that, a lot crazy.

  Eventually, my logical side takes over. “I would love to make you prove that, but if I go tonight, it’s one more thing out of the way. The sooner we check these activities off Kira’s list, the sooner she goes away.”

  “Good point. At least send me a few pictures from the dressing room.”

  I laugh. “Oh sure, because you know what we really need right now? Some lunatic hacker getting a hold of those and blasting them all over the internet.”

  Brandon busts out laughing and I join in. The insanity of our world is one where you have to take a ’laugh to keep from crying’ approach.

  “Maybe I’ll wear something new to bed—off camera—and let you decide if you like it when you get home,” I tease.

  He groans. “Cherry, you’re killing me over here.”

  Mission accomplished.

  “Guess you better hurry home then, huh?”

  “I’ll do my best. I might have to go AWOL.”

  “I’m more than okay with that plan. Especially if you wear your uniform home,” I say, imagining him sneaking into our room in the military gear from his current movie. Totally hot.

  He laughs. “Sadly, I’m out of time. They need me back in five minutes and now I’m going to have to squeeze in a cold shower before I go back.”

  “All right. See you later tonight,” I say before clicking off the call, missing him instantly. I give myself a minute, but then get up and go back to the kitchen to rejoin Kira and Ashley. The sooner I get this over with, the sooner I’ll come home, and the sooner Brandon will be back next to me.

  Kira and Ashley have apparently called a cease-fire, but there is still a sense of tension in the air. As soon as I’m back in the room, Kira mutters something about when we need to be ready to leave and then stalks out of the room.