Not Talented in Hollywood: Not in Hollywood Book 3

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Not Talented in Hollywood: Not in Hollywood Book 3 Page 8

by Leonie Gant


  Jorge grinned and grabbed his plate. “I could get used to doing these jobs with you” he said.

  “Experience” I said as I started in on my gourmet burger, definitely a step up from my usual hamburger. “I need to eat or I start getting very cranky and I can’t do my job if I’m cranky.”

  As we were inhaling the food I heard a noise coming from the bedroom.

  “Looks like you’re up” said Jorge.

  Shoving the last of the burger in my mouth, I made my way to the door and knocked gently on it.

  “Miss Stanton, are you okay?” When I was greeted with silence I knocked again. “Miss Stanton, my name is Trudie Eyre, I’m your assistant while you’re in LA.” Still silence. “Miss Stanton, I’m coming in now. I need to see that you are okay.”

  I opened the door slowly preparing myself to duck if any projectiles came my way. Sometimes walking into the bedroom of someone who was coming down from a chemically induced high could be dangerous. Luckily most projectiles that had come my way while walking into a bedroom consisted of pillows and cushions, although there was that time when I had a pair of handcuffs hurled in my direction. On the plus side they hadn’t been police issue, no these had been the fluffy ones that could be bought online. That being said they had made quite a menacing thud on the door when I’d pulled it shut proving my reaction time was pretty good. As I cautiously entered the room I could see the shape under the covers and hear a disembodied groaning.

  “Miss Stanton” I said cautiously. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  The covers were ripped back and a bleary eyed socialite peered at me dolefully from the bed. “Who the bloody hell are you and where am I?”

  Great, I love the blackout ones.

  “Do you remember getting on a plane Miss Stanton?”

  Her forehead wrinkled as she tried to remember. Usually I work with women who are incapable of that expression due to Botox injections. It threw me off my game for a second.

  “I think I do” she said and I could see that she was concentrating really hard.

  “You’re in LA, do you know why?”

  Another frown. “I was at rehab and my friend Jane called. She told me that Carl was opening a club in LA.”

  “Carl is your ex-husband?” I prompted and was surprised to see tears in her eyes.

  “We were going to do it together and I screwed it up. Now he’s doing it on his own. I’ve lost him and it’s all my fault.”

  She started wailing and the door got flung open and Jorge filled the doorway. He took one look at me standing there helplessly and the woman crying her eyes out on the bed and he turned around and closed the door. Sitting next to her on the bed I awkwardly put my arm around her shoulder and patted her.

  “There, there, we’ll work it out.”

  “You don’t understand” she gasped out between heaving sobs. “I wanted him back. I went to rehab to show him I could get better, but when I heard he was opening the club without me it was like he moved on. He didn’t need me any more. I left rehab and headed for the airport. I was waiting for my plane and I headed for the bar. I don’t remember much after that.”

  “Blythe, I need you to tell me if you took anything other than the alcohol.”

  “No, I don’t think so, but I started drinking again. I’ve lost him forever.”

  And the wailing started again. I could feel the sound of it reverberating through my skull.

  “No” I said loudly. The wailing kept going.

  “For the love of… Will you shut up” I yelled.

  The wailing stopped mid cry and two round eyes looked up at me.

  “Feeling sorry for yourself is not going to get him back. If you really want him, and this isn’t just some stupid pride thing I will help you, but you have to make your decision now.”

  Blythe gulped and nodded her head slowly. “He’s my soul mate, I can’t go on without him.”

  I stopped myself from grimacing. I’m not a big fan of the whole soul mate idea. I generally find that people who have found their soul mates have a tendency to let the universe decide their romantic moves. Never a good plan in my opinion. Of course the guy I thought was my soul mate had ended up being a jerk, so it could just be that I’m a bit cynical. I pulled back the covers.

  “Very well, if we are going to do this the first thing is to sober you up a bit. Into the shower, try to get rid of the alcohol smell and when you come out, I’ll have some food and coffee waiting for you.

  She nodded quietly and pulled herself out of bed. I watched her walk to the bathroom noting that she wasn’t too unsteady on her feet. Closing the door quietly I found Jorge looking pensive.

  “Is she okay?” he asked.

  “No, not really”, I said as I went over to start the coffee machine working.

  Jorge tried again. “She looked really upset. Does that mean we’re not going anywhere tonight? We just need to get her on that flight.”

  “I like your optimism, but plans have changed.”

  Jorge looked at me suspiciously. “What do you mean plans have changed?”

  “We have a goal for the night. We’re going to go to that club opening and we are going to help Blythe Stanton get her husband back.”

  The look on Jorge’s face was comical and I had to stop myself from laughing as I worked on wrestling the complicated coffee machine into submission.

  “Uh Trudie, I don’t really think that kind of thing is in our job description.”

  “Oh Jorge” I said. “Sweet, innocent, deluded Jorge. Our job description consists of making our client’s lives as smooth and easy as possible. Our options include helping that woman get her husband back or listen to her wailing for the next,” I checked my watch, “eleven hours. Is that really how you want to spend that time?”

  Jorge grimaced. “I guess not” he said although to my way of thinking it sounded more like a question than a statement.

  By the time Blythe eventually got out of the shower I was beginning to rethink my plan. After sitting her down with coffee and water I sat across from her.

  “Is this really what you want to do now?” I asked.

  “What do you mean?” she replied mutinously.

  “Well,” I said slowly trying to decide how to word this. Jorge was deliberately avoiding any part of this conversation, and refused to even look me in the eye. “Do you think you’re in the best condition to try to get your husband back?” I hated to say it but I had to be brutally honest. The woman was going through rehab and had just fallen off the wagon in a spectacular way and she looked it.

  “You don’t think he’ll want me?” she whispered quietly and I could see the tears welling in her eyes.

  “No, no” I said quickly, hoping I could head off the wailing that looked like it was about to start again. “I’m just saying that maybe we need a little help tonight with makeup and dressing.”

  “I’ve got a dress” she said jumping up and pulling out the tiny scrap of silver fabric.

  I looked at Jorge and he just shrugged.

  “That’s a lovely dress” I said, “and it would look great on you.” It would, she had the perfect figure for that dress. If we were just going out for a night on the prowl it would be the perfect dress. We weren’t going for a night on the prowl though. We had a mission and that required something more targeted than the wide net approach that a dress like that signified.

  “Is there any outfit that Carl particularly liked?” I asked.

  “I have the dress with me that I was wearing the day he said he loved me” she said quietly. “I haven’t been able to wear it since the divorce, but I carry it everywhere with me. I can’t seem to let it go.”

  Well that pretty much broke my heart and I could see that it affected Jorge too. To carry around a dress you had no intention of wearing simply because it reminded you of a wonderful memory. That kind of story was guaranteed to tug at the heartstrings. Blythe went into her room and I looked over at Jorge.

  “Fine”
he said gruffly, “we’re going to get her old man back but we are never speaking of this again.”

  “Agreed” I nodded.

  Blythe came out with a surprisingly simple dress that skimmed her knees and only gave a hint of her cleavage. It was a dress that whispered of the promise of seduction rather than shouting it. I could see why Carl had been taken with it.

  “I think that would be perfect” I said.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Unfortunately that left us with the makeup situation. Blythe Stanton was an attractive woman. Unfortunately she was not looking her best at the moment. Circles rimmed her eyes and her skin had broken out and was dry in areas. I know that love is not supposed to be all about the physical, but a nice package helps, especially for a mission like this. There’s a reason why plastic surgery is such a lucrative industry in this town.

  I pulled out my cell and called the one person I thought could help. An hour later there was a knock at the door.

  Throwing it wide open I welcomed Tomas and Helena into the room.

  “Hello Helena” I said after giving Tomas a hug.

  “You’re Trudie” she said. “I remember you. You are Eric’s friend.

  I nodded as I got swamped by the uniqueness that was Helena. It may have been overstating things to say I had been Eric’s friend. Eric had been the husband of one of my clients and for two weeks before he met his untimely end he had made my life very difficult. Helena of course had only met Eric after his death when she had been hired as a funeral cosmetologist to fix the damage only a bullet hole to the head could do. Despite her unusual ways Helena was a genius when it came to make up and what she could hide.

  “Eric has such a beautiful spirit. Is this who I’m helping today?” she asked her eyes wide when she saw Blythe.

  “Yes Helena, Blythe needs to look beautiful tonight, we’re trying to reunite her with her husband” I said.

  Helena clapped her hands together. “Of course, I will make her as beautiful as Eric” she said as she took Blythe into the bedroom and started chatting away about all the people she had worked with.

  “Is she going to say anything to Blythe about all these people being dead when she worked on them?” I muttered to Tomas.

  “Helena doesn’t really distinguish between dead and alive” said Tomas quietly. “As far as she is concerned they all have beautiful spirits and they all talk to her.”

  “Great” I muttered.

  “You wouldn’t have called me if you didn’t know how good she was” Tomas reminded me.

  “I know” I said.

  Jorge who was standing at the door to the bedroom watching Helena and Blythe turned around.

  “She just told Blythe to stop breathing as it was distracting her. Is that normal?

  I shook my head. “For Helena, that’s pretty normal. I’d better be in there and make sure that she doesn’t decide to stop that pesky breathing from happening.”

  “She won’t do that” scoffed Tomas, then he stopped and looked like he was contemplating what I’d just said. “No, of course she wouldn’t.”

  Within no time Helena clapped her hands and turned Blythe around.

  “Perfect” I said and Helena’s eyes sparkled. It was perfect. Helena had erased the short term damage that Blythe had caused and managed to make her look completely natural.

  “She is a genius” I said as I watched Helena start dancing around the room catching Blythe’s hand and pulling her along. Watching Helena was always like watching a free spirit who didn’t let the normal problems of life touch her. Seeing Blythe smile as she was being led around the room, I couldn’t help but think that we all could use a bit of what Helena had.

  Sitting in the limo outside the club I could see Blythe was no longer feeling the effects of Helena’s carefree attitude to life as she was chewing on her bottom lip.

  “Last chance to turn around” I said. “You don’t have to do this. You can go back to rehab, finish the program and face him when you are in a better place.”

  “I want to do this” she said quietly as she squared her shoulders.

  As the door opened Jorge went out first to provide protection. Blythe followed him and I went after her. Getting into the club was no problem, even without an invitation. It rarely is for my clients. Being whisked to the VIP area, Jorge and I kept a close eye on Blythe. The darkness of the club and the lights bouncing on the dancers had a hypnotic effect and could be distracting. In the middle of the VIP area we found our target. Unfortunately he was surrounded by beautiful women who seemed to be very friendly with him. Blythe stumbled slightly and I put out my arm to steady her. Pain creased her features.

  “I didn’t even think that he’d move on” she whispered as Jorge stood in front of us blocking anyone from seeing. “I am such an idiot, of course he’s moved on. Why would he wait for me to sort myself out? Let’s just get out of here.”

  “Are you sure that’s what you want?” I whispered back. “You’re here now, don’t you want to at least give it a try.”

  “I think I’ve humiliated myself enough in my life” Blythe said tightly. “I’m not going to exacerbate the disaster that is my existence by getting into a fight in a club over my ex-husband.”

  “Good to see your spirit” I said, “but I wasn’t talking about fighting for him. You could just go up to him and say hello.”

  Blythe shook her head. “No” she said. “I think that I just need to go home. I’ve screwed things up for myself enough. I should never have got on that plane. I just got it into my head that if I could just get him back then everything would be okay. I need to stand up on my own for a change. I want him back so badly, but I won’t humiliate myself to do it” she said with the beginning of tears in her eyes.

  I nodded sharply and tapped Jorge on the shoulder. “We’re out of here” I said. Showing himself to be the consummate professional, Jorge did not sigh or roll his eyes at the sudden change in plans.

  As we started to walk away I noticed that Carl looked up and saw Blythe. In that second I saw adoration flash across his face when he looked at the woman I was following. My breath caught and I pulled Blythe to a stop.

  “What?” she said and I indicated to Carl with my head.

  The second he caught her eye, he was on his feet shrugging off the women who had been vying for his attention.

  “Blythe” he said as he got to us and pulled her into a hug. “It is so good to see you. What are you doing here?”

  Blythe smiled sweetly and I could see Carl almost being taken out at the knees.

  “I wanted to see your club Carl” she said, “Congratulations, I’m so happy for you.”

  “I’ve missed you so much” he said roughly. “I can’t believe you’re here, I thought you were done with us.”

  Blythe hesitated. “I’m so sorry Carl” she said her eyes once again filling with tears. “I messed everything up. I should never have given up on us.”

  “But you’re back” Carl said.

  “Only for a few hours” said Blythe. “Then I’m going back to rehab and I’m going to fix my life.”

  She sounded resolute and for the first time since I met her coming off the plane, I started to think that maybe there was a chance that Blythe could actually succeed. I had seen many of my clients going in and coming out of rehab and I had learned that only a few actually make it. Those that did needed to find something inside themselves which made them want to get clean. As I watched Blythe and Carl, I could see that Blythe had found what she needed.

  Carl cleared his throat. “Can we talk?” he said. “Not here, in my office upstairs.”

  Blythe smiled. “Not tonight Carl” she said. “You have your opening, we can talk when I get back if you still want to.”

  Carl grabbed Blythe’s hand and started leading her away. “No, you are more important to me than this opening. We are going to sort this out now” he said as he started dragging her along. He didn’t get far before he ran into the massive wall that was J
orge.

  “Is this what you want Blythe?” I asked watching as security started making a beeline for us.

  Blythe nodded, her smile blinding. “Yes” she said, “I really do want this. Stay here and I’ll be out soon.”

  I nodded at Jorge and he stepped aside. Carl led a giggling Blythe up the stairs to his office.

  “I hope we’ve done the right thing” grumbled Jorge as he sat down at a small table which overlooked the dance floor.

  I sat down next to him. “What else were we going to do?” I asked him. “She’s a grown woman and she’s making her own decisions.”

  “Yeah but what if she has sex with him when we’re supposed to be taking care of her?” Jorge said.

  “Our job description does not include being a chastity belt” I said dryly. “Our job involves getting her on that plane and back to rehab. That is what we intend to do. Until then we wait and amuse ourselves without having too much fun.”

  “Great” said Jorge. “I’ll go get us some drinks that we won’t enjoy very much.”

  “Thanks” I said.

  Watching the dancing below I was surprised when someone sat next to me at the table.

  “You were at Catarina’s funeral today weren’t you?” asked a slurred voice.

  I looked at my new companion and she looked familiar.

  “I’m sorry” I said. “Were you there this morning?”

  She smiled and held out her hand, a little shakily. “I’m Antonia. I went to school with Catarina.”

  I gripped her hand “Trudie, I was there to support a friend who knew Catarina.”

  “The gorgeous English guy” she said smiling. “Yes, he looked like he would be Catarina’s type.”

  I shrugged because really what could I say, Edwin had been exactly Catarina’s type.

  Antonia smiled as she took another drink. She looked pleasantly hammered.

  “It was a boring funeral” she said slowly. “I was sure there were going to be a lot more people there, just to make sure she was really dead.”

  “I didn’t know Catarina at all” I said with what I hoped was disinterest. “Wasn’t she well liked?”

 

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