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The Final Act (#4 Bestselling Spotlight Series)

Page 15

by JS Taylor


  She inclines her head towards a Big Bird in the middle distance. Then her eyes slide to James.

  “Hello there Mr B,” she says, eyeing him coyly through long lashes. “You scrub up well. James Dean?”

  James nods, looking distracted. Kristy’s smile drops a little. It’s a resigned gesture, like she’s used to this level of disinterest from him.

  “You look great too,” I say, trying to make up for James’s coolness.

  Kristy’s face flicks back and forth between the two of us, as if trying to assess the dynamic.

  Oh dear. Is it that obvious?

  I have a sudden thought that perhaps I’m making a laughable charade. Everything about the way I stand and look at James must make it plain how I feel about him. And though James has removed his arm from my waist, his whole body language is overtly protective towards me.

  It doesn’t matter. I remind myself. Everyone will know in a few minutes.

  “Excuse me,” says James curtly, “I have a little party business to attend to.”

  He steps away from us, and I watch him head to the stage.

  “Issy!” I hear a familiar voice behind me, and turn to see Camilla and Callum.

  Whoa! Camilla!

  Her finished Poison Ivy outfit is off-the-scale stunning. I feel my eyes widening, mesmerised by her appearance.

  “Camilla!” My voice has risen about three octaves in shock. “I can’t believe it’s you.”

  She laughs and looks down, a little bashful. Which is in total contrast to the full-on sex kitten before me.

  I’d seen her make-up and cat-suit. But the final touches to the Poison Ivy outfit have lifted it to another level. Camilla looks like a being from a distant planet, her waif-figure showcased to perfection inside the skin-tight suit.

  Her large blue eyes blink out from behind sultry make-up and heavy false lashes. Great curls of red hair are woven in top knots and tumble around her face.

  Ivy is wrapped provocatively up and down her body, finishing in leafy tendrils which highlight her lean waist and high breasts.

  Compared to some of the other guest, she has a lot of clothes on. But to my mind, she is hands-down the sexiest and most provocatively dressed girl here.

  I put my hands on her shoulders, holding her slightly at length so I can stare at her outfit.

  “You look hot,” I say.

  From behind Camilla, Callum grins.

  “Doesn’t she?” he says. “I’ve been telling her the whole way here, she should be careful. She might not get out alive, dressed like that.”

  Callum wears an Indiana Jones outfit with dusty desert pants, a battered Stetson, and coiled whip at his waist.

  “Great outfit,” I say, taking him in. “Where’s Will?”

  Callum shakes his head sadly.

  “Will hates fancy dress. He says he’ll leave us show-boating acting types to it. He’d rather have an early night and call his wife.”

  I laugh. “That sounds like Will.”

  “Hey Issy,” says a shy voice.

  I turn my gaze in confusion. The soft tones don’t match the face I’m used to.

  It’s Natalie, but without any of her entourage. She looks surprisingly vulnerable.

  “Hey Natalie!” I put my arm out, drawing her into the group. “Great to see you. No staff with you tonight?”

  She moves towards my arm gratefully.

  “Uh. No.” Natalie looks down. “No, just me.” Despite my attempts to draw her in, she’s hanging back a little, clearly nervous to join the group.

  Natalie Ennis. Shy at big gatherings. Who knew?

  In many ways, it makes total sense. Natalie was pushed into the Hollywood scene at a young age and used drugs to cope. No wonder she’s finding it hard.

  “I gave ‘em the night off,” she adds, looking up with a shy smile. “So it’s just me. Tonight.”

  “Well, welcome, just you,” says Callum warmly, his kind nature leaping to Natalie’s aid. “Come on in.” He grabs her by the waist and draws her right into the group.

  Natalie allows herself to be guided, smiling, and clearly relieved.

  “You all look great,” says Natalie, standing a little straighter.

  “So do you,” I say.

  Natalie is dressed in the baggy Brando pants, which have been pinned at the bottom. Her feet wear black and white wing-tips, and a linen shirt with braces covers her top half.

  The look is completed with the Tommy-gun and the little fedora I found her, with her copper hair coming poker-straight from under it. Her make-up is understated, as though she’s making a point. She doesn’t want to be centre of attention tonight.

  “Ladies and Gentleman!” A voice from a microphone suddenly grabs our attention.

  James!

  “I have a few announcements to make.”

  I turn to see he has taken the small ballroom stage and is holding a microphone.

  Instantly, he has everyone’s attention. Only seconds before, party-goers had been drinking, gambling, and generally enjoying themselves. But something about James’s voice compels you to listen.

  “Firstly,” he says, “a little fun for the evening. As you know, I’m a terrible slave-driver, and I want you all fresh for tomorrow.”

  This brings a little wave of laughter.

  “So I’ve introduced a rule for the gaming tables.” He pauses. “At midnight, all bets placed will be a bonus pay-out,” he says. “Winners will be paid out, not just their bets, but the value of all bets won on that table tonight.”

  I see people smiling at this.

  “So you all need to be paying close attention to the clock,” adds James. “Hopefully that should encourage you to drink a little less and gamble a little more.”

  He grins.

  “Next,” he adds, “I want to introduce a new member of our family.” James stares out into the crowd, locating.

  I see his eyes light on a young man.

  “Bradley, come up to the stage.” He beckons.

  A tall young man makes the few steps up onto the stage. He’s dressed as an elf warrior, with pointed ears and a sheaf of arrows at his back. I recognise the character from Lord of the Rings.

  He has shoulder length brown hair and even features which would be typical ‘nice-guy’ if it wasn’t for a mischievous glint to his hazel eyes.

  Beside me I feel Camilla tense. I turn to see her staring, transfixed at the actor.

  Oooooh. Camilla likes him.

  I make a mental note to try and set them up.

  I’d place him as young. No older than twenty-two. And I’m guessing he’s not all that comfortable up on the stage.

  Bradley takes the mic and gives an uncertain wave. But when he speaks, he sounds incredibly confidant. Far more than I thought he would be.

  “Hello everyone,” Bradley says. His accent is soft Welsh.

  “It’s lovely to be here,” he continues, “and see all the outfits.” Bradley gives a wide grin. “I don’t think I’ve ever been to a party with such good fancy dress,” he adds, “so I know I must have hit the big time.”

  There’s a ripple of laughter. Camilla laughs so loudly, she seems to take herself by surprise. I look at her and her blue eyes rest on mine.

  He’s hot, she mouths.

  I smile at her. “You’ll get to meet him soon,” I promise.

  “Anyway,” adds Bradley. “I hope I’ll get to speak to most of you before the evening is out. And if I’m still here at three in the morning, if someone would be kind enough to tell me to go home and stop talking bollocks, I’d appreciate it.”

  This brings a roar of laughter, and as Bradley hands the microphone back to James, the crowd gives him a round of appreciative applause.

  Camilla’s eyes are locked on Bradley as he exits the stage.

  She is totally love-struck.

  I send a silent prayer that Bradley doesn’t have a girlfriend.

  Natalie catches my eye and winks, tilting her head towards Bradley and then bac
k at Camilla. She makes a heart shape with her hand and grins.

  I nod back. We can work as a team to set them up later.

  “Thank you, Bradley,” James is saying as the young actor climbs down into the crowd. “If you’re still here at three in the morning, I’ll perform that service myself. We’ve got some of your first scenes tomorrow.”

  More laughter.

  James clears his throat and pauses. The crowd go quiet.

  “I have something else to announce,” says James. I feel my stomach turn icy.

  He’s going to tell them about us. I ready myself for the crowd’s reaction.

  “It could be considered a delicate matter,” adds James, “so I hope you’ll all be understanding.”

  He coughs again.

  “I hope you all know,” he begins, “that I consider you all as family. And I hope you feel as though I treat you that way.”

  I see little murmurs and nods go around the crowd.

  “Out of respect for that relationship,” adds James, “I wanted to be honest with you all.”

  I can see the guests are starting to look a little disconcerted now, as though they fear James might announce something bad.

  “I’m sure none of you have the slightest interest in my love life,” continues James. “But unfortunately the press do. And recently, you’re probably aware that my divorce was announced.”

  He waits a moment, and the crowd are hushed, listening.

  “The reason for that,” says James, “is that I have fallen in love with Isabella Green.”

  My eyes widen in shock. And I hear gasps and amazement echo through the room. It’s not so much the nature of the information – I’m sure many people had guessed – but the manner in which he’s delivering it.

  James has become notorious for being a bachelor who would never commit.

  He just announced that he’s in love with me!

  I’m reeling in delighted shock. Part of me is still thudding with the discomfort of being centre of attention. But mostly, I’m soaring high above the casino tables.

  “I know that might come as a surprise to many people,“ James is saying. “I’ve become well-known for being a man who wants to stay single.”

  He sighs, and his eyes sweep the crowd.

  “Love has changed me,” he says. “Love has opened my eyes to what a beautiful world this is and what beautiful people are in it. And for that, I have you to thank, Issy. I love you.”

  His eyes are rested on me now, and I feel the tears start to well in my eyes.

  Camilla leans in close to me, grinning.

  Natalie has pushed in on the other side and gives my arm a little squeeze.

  “Get up on stage,” she whispers. “Let everyone see the girl who tamed James Berkeley.”

  Camilla’s blue eyes light up.

  “Oh yes!” she gasps. “Go up, Issy!”

  I shake my head, but now a few other guests have heard Camilla, and they join in the petition.

  “Get Issy up!” I hear it like a Mexican wave through the crowd.

  James hears the plea and tilts his head towards me.

  “What do you think, Issy? Would you like to come up here?”

  I can hardly move, for embarrassment, but somehow my feet force one in front of the other. I shuffle through the crowd, and they urge me forward.

  James meets me at the steps and takes my hand, drawing me up onto the stage.

  “I love you,” he whispers, moving the mic away so only I can hear.

  “I love you too,” I say, my face beet-red with the crowd staring on. “I can’t believe you’ve done this to me.”

  “Blame yourself,” says James. “If they didn’t like you so much, you wouldn’t be getting this reaction.”

  And then, to prove his point, he pulls me close in a deep kiss.

  The party-goers break into a huge cheer, and I hear high-pitched whistling echo around the ballroom.

  We break apart, and I turn to take in the crowd, my red face grinning despite it all. I see in their faces that James is right. No one in the crowd seems to dislike the fact we’re a couple. Maybe it’s the party atmosphere, but everyone seems happy to have the romance.

  I spot Kristy, and notice her face has a strange expression. Like she’s either bored or annoyed.

  You can’t please everyone, I tell myself. She probably just wants to get back to the party.

  James takes my hand and guides me down from the stage. “Now get on with the party,” he commands loudly into the microphone, and everyone laughs.

  Chapter 23

  I step down into the crowd, relieved to be away from the direct attention. I’m silently hoping our relationship doesn’t become the main focus of the evening.

  But everyone has returned to partying now, and the waiters and waitresses are out in force, moving round trays of drinks and canapés.

  “Would you like some gaming chips?” asks James. He points to a little stall which has been set up to issue chips.

  “They don’t represent real money?” I ask.

  James shakes his head. “Obviously not. We’d need a gaming license. But they can be exchanged for prizes.”

  He nods to a large printed board. “See? It’s printed up there what you can win.”

  I follow the direction of his gaze.

  It seems Mr Berkeley has thought of everything. The dollars can be exchanged for everything from London spa treatments to department store vouchers. And the top prize is a Vespa moped for $100,000 worth of chips.

  I raise my eyebrows at this last.

  “A scooter? Not a rally car or a yacht?”

  “I like to keep these things in proportion,” says James. “It’s only a mid-filming party. Besides, a scooter is far more practical for London.”

  I grin at him. “Now that is something worth gambling for,” I decide. “I’ve always wanted a scooter.”

  “I’ll buy you one. After you have lessons.”

  I shake my head. “You are something else.”

  “So are you.”

  We approach the line of guests picking up chips, and James puts his arm around me protectively. I feel a flush of pleasure.

  We don’t have to hide anymore.

  “All the guests are given $5000 of chips,” James is saying, “but I could pull some strings and get you extra.”

  I laugh. “No special treatment please, Mr Berkeley. Let’s keep things professional.”

  He swings me around to face him. “Maybe we have different ideas of professionalism,” he says, his voice dipping low and his hand snaking down my lower back. “I can’t control myself when you’re dressed like this.”

  “Maybe we do have different ideas.” I keep my eyes fixed on him and move his hand from my back, holding his gaze. “But you’ll have to wait until later to find out what my ideas are.”

  James’s eyes seem to darken, and I make a quick intake of breath.

  “Is that so?”

  “Oh yes,” I say, keeping my expression provocative.

  “Well then,” he says. “I guess I’ll have to wait.”

  He moves in close with his mouth to my ear.

  “But I don’t count on waiting long, Ms Green.”

  A shudder of desire flickers through me.

  “Why are the gaming chips in dollars and not British pounds?” I say, deliberately changing the subject.

  I can tell by James’s expression that he’s not fooled and knows exactly what I’m doing.

  Uh-oh. Looks like I could be in trouble later.

  “I thought it was more authentic,” he says, “since the best casinos are in America.”

  I nod, pretending to be very interested in this.

  “Well then, you’d best get me some chips,” I decide.

  James picks me up a stack of chips, and I count them with mock severity.

  “$5000. Well done Mr Berkeley. You’ve curbed your urge to give me an unfair advantage.”

  James makes a lingering sweep of my Princess
Leia outfit with his eyes. “Believe me,” he says. “You always have an unfair advantage.”

  Suddenly, I remember Camilla in her Poison Ivy cat-suit.

  “Can we introduce Camilla to Bradley?” I ask James. “I think she likes him.”

  James frowns. “I think he might have a girlfriend,” he murmurs.

  Dammit.

  “Are you sure?” I press. I know James is overprotective of Camilla.

  “No, I’m not sure,” he admits. “I’m probably just being cautious. I’d hate to see her hurt again.”

  I seek out Camilla in the crowd, and then my eyes move to Bradley.

  “There he is,” I say. “Let’s go and make the introductions.”

  James twists his lip uncertainly. But as I watch Bradley, I can see that there might not be that much match-making needed.

  Bradley has just seen Camilla, stunningly sexy in her skin-tight Poison Ivy outfit. And he’s practically got his mouth open.

  Bradley breaks his gaze from Camilla’s willowy figure, and his eyes are searching the crowd again.

  He locates James, and then he’s staring straight at us.

  James lifts his hand in a partial wave. And within a few strides, Bradley is by our side.

  “James,” he says, “can you introduce me to that girl? The one with the amazing blue eyes?”

  Blue eyes. That’s so cute that he noticed that above her sexy outfit.

  James hesitates for a moment, and I prod him in the side.

  “Of course,” he says, raising his eyebrows at me. “Let me take you to her. That’s my cousin, Camilla,” he adds meaningfully.

  Bradley registers this. “Camilla.” He mouths the name reverently, as though it’s the most beautiful word he’s ever heard. “She’s your cousin? Do you think she’d let me take her out on a date?”

  James’s mouth sets in a straight line.

  “I thought you had a girlfriend, Bradley.”

  Bradley looks confused and slightly taken aback by the tone of James’s voice.

  “No,” he shakes his head. “No, I’ve been single for a while.”

  Perfect.

  “Then you can only ask her.” James frowns. “But I’m not sure she’s ready for a relationship.”

 

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