Beyond the Stars

by Stacy Wise

  It was just yesterday that I sat in my aunt’s posh office waiting for the big celebrity reveal. I fiddled with my hoop earring so much that it fell out. Her intercom buzzed, and a frazzled assistant announced, “Jack McAlister’s here. I’ll send him up.”

  “Thanks.” She clicked off the intercom and turned to me, looking all agenty. “He’ll be right up.”

  I stared at her, unable to keep the panic from my face as I untangled the earring from my hair. “Aunt Marnie, I can’t work for an actor. There’s no way.”

  “He’s not just an actor. He’s my best client.”

  “Please. I can’t even—”

  “Look, Jack needs an assistant. His manager already met plenty of candidates, and apparently none were able to function normally upon meeting Jack. I’m taking over now. You won’t be fazed by Jack’s celebrity. That much I know. And,” she continued, tenting her hands like a TV lawyer making her case, “I understand why you’re upset, but Jack is not Jordan Kennedy. He won’t try to date you. I’ll make that clear from the get-go. All you need to do is act kind and professional. No ogling, no flirting, no mouthing off. You can handle that, right?” she asked, softening back into the Aunt Marnie I was more familiar with.

  “I guess,” I lied, trying to ignore the bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.

  There was a loud knock on the door. As we watched the knob turn, Aunt Marnie whispered, “Please let this go well.”

  And in walked Jack McAlister. Every fear that I’d automatically detest him because he’s an actor was replaced by a new fear that he was way too attractive to work for. He was dressed in ripped jeans and a white T-shirt. On anyone else that shirt would’ve looked plain, but on him, it was like the draping over a perfectly chiseled statue—like you knew something extraordinary was ready to be discovered beneath it. Drop. Dead. Gorgeous.

  Giddiness, panic, and something I can’t describe set in. He took all the normal, plain old air out of the room and filled it with something sweet and magical. I swear I could hear bells chiming. But maybe it was just that all my synapses fired at once, my body’s mind-blowing, ear-ringing physical reaction to him.

  “Hey, Marnie!” Jack said, arms open. He pulled my aunt into a hug and kissed both cheeks. “So what’s the big surprise you’ve got for me?”

  He glanced my way, a question in his light blue eyes. He grinned, and I felt like I was swimming in the ocean of all that was Jack McAlister. Damn. I understood why other candidates couldn’t function normally upon meeting him.

  He turned back to my aunt. “Who’s this?”

  “Jack, this is Jessica Beckett. Jessica, this is Jack McAlister.”

  I plastered a blasé look on my face, allowing a hint of a smile. And I reminded myself that actors are egotistical, self-centered liars. “Hi, Jack. Nice to meet you.”

  We shook hands, and Aunt Marnie explained that her big surprise was me, his new assistant.

  He dropped my hand and crossed his arms, his hands tucked into his armpits. “We’ve been through this, Marnie. I don’t want an assistant.”

  His words felt like a punch in the gut. She should’ve clued me in that he didn’t want an assistant. That would’ve been, I don’t know…helpful?

  “You need one, Jack. Stars like you sometimes have two or three assistants. It’s time you recognize who you are.” She let her words hang in the air, and Jack listened like a child learning there’s no Santa Claus. For a second, I had the urge to comfort him.

  He flashed a hurt look. “That’s not going to work for me.”

  Aunt Marnie smirked. “It will work. The solution is keeping it in the family. Jessica is my niece.”

  “Doesn’t matter. I can handle my own life. I don’t need anyone else involved to fuck it up.”

  “Because you’re doing a fine job of it on your own.” She smiled at him, looking more maternal than I’d ever seen her. “I’m not going to lecture you. I understand how the pressures can get to you. Compartmentalize, remember?”

  She paused, and I stole a glance at Jack. I could tell by the look on his face that he was considering what she said.

  “How is an assistant going to stop me from punching a photographer in the face, Marnie?”

  My mind flashed with images of late nights and liquor-fueled, testosterone-saturated brawls, and I wanted to run, but Marnie went in for the hard sell. “She can have exit routes in place for you so you’re one step ahead of the paparazzi. You can’t stop being out there. You have to play the game. It’s the perfect time to do this. Rehearsals for Steven Lowi’s film don’t start for another few weeks. It’s rare that you have this downtime. Use it to figure out how Jessica can best help you.”

  There was an undertone of desperation in her voice. Jack probably didn’t notice, but I did. As Aunt Marnie continued to push, the reality of what she needed hit me. If she lost Jack as a client, it would mean a dramatic lifestyle change for her. They made each other millions. He could easily land another agent, but his leaving her would lead to hushed, speculative conversations. Was she slipping? Too old? Out of touch? He was her meal ticket and her bait to get new clients. I had to help.

  I stole a glance at Jack and wondered if I could work for a guy who punches people in the face. Nerves circled like sharks in my stomach. Nonetheless, at the end of the meeting, I was Jack McAlister’s assistant. Aunt Marnie beamed at me before turning to Jack and hugging him. I knew he was her best client, but I got the feeling he was also her favorite.

  It’s hard to believe that was only yesterday. I had no idea I’d be working as a pig chauffeur today. Very glamorous.

  Chapter Two

  I sit on the sofa in Jack’s dressing room and attempt to act normal. My shirt clings to me, and I pull it away from my body, airing it. He said to wait and watch the monitor, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if I freshen up a bit. I open the door to the small bathroom and flick on the light.

  Jack’s clothing is folded in a neat pile on the countertop. At least he’s tidy. He must’ve changed into nicer clothes when he got here. I scrub my hands thoroughly and dry them with the electric dryer. As the hot air blows the moisture from my hands, I decide it could dry my shirt, too. I pull off my top and hold it under the dryer, watching the water stain vanish in seconds.

  I give it a good shake and glance into the mirror. A pathetic little shriek escapes my lips when I see a face behind me. It’s Jack.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” he shouts over the sound of the hand dryer.

  “Don’t you knock?” I cover myself with my shirt, although I’m pretty sure he already had a great view of my lacey white bra.

  “This is my dressing room! And the door was open.” He steps around me, his eyes trained on a small gift bag that sits next to his pile of clothes.

  I clench my shirt to my body. The hand dryer finally shuts off. “Well, you should’ve assumed I was in here when you didn’t see me out there!”

  Jack glares at me. “I wasn’t looking.” He holds up the small gift bag. “I came back for this. I forgot it. As my assistant, maybe you should’ve noticed.”

  He moves past me in the small bathroom and hesitates when he reaches the door. His eyes scan my barely covered chest. “Try locking the door the next time you decide to take off your clothes.”

  I wait until I’m sure he’s gone before I slide my arms into my shirt and button it up. What an ass. I check myself in the mirror, and a red-faced, wild-eyed, messy-haired girl gapes back at me. I hate today. Jack McAlister just saw me shirtless.

  I’ll pretend it never happened. That’s what I’ll do. I smooth my hair into a ponytail as best as I can and leave the bathroom, resuming my spot on the sofa.

  Francine’s voice blares from the monitor, announcing Jack McAlister! It’s too bad I missed her monologue. She’s always so funny, and God knows I could use a laugh right now. Jack walks out, carrying Leo in the crook of his arm, football-style. He waves with his left hand, and I can see the gift bag just showing in the pocket of
his vintage leather jacket.

  The audience goes wild. Women scream, “I love you, Jack!” They sound ridiculous. I would never embarrass myself in front of a movie star that way. Apparently, I prefer to show them my boobs.

  He smiles at the crowd. “I love you, too,” he says as he takes the chair next to Francine. And if I didn’t know better, I’d say he looks a little embarrassed by it all, but maybe he’s faking the humble expression while secretly relishing this superficial idolization.

  The applause finally dies down, and Francine says, “I see you brought a friend. Who is this little cutie?”

  “This is Leo.” He holds him up for everyone to see, and more fanatical cheering ensues. God, he could probably cough up phlegm and the crowd would go absolutely bonkers.

  “Well, hello there, Leo. So, Jack, can you tell me why you brought a pig to my show? I have to say, this is a first.”

  I lean in. I’m a little curious about it, too. I’m sure it’s to promote a new movie, or something. Maybe someone is doing a remake of Babe, and Jack is voicing one of the characters.

  “He’s my new pet. I got him as a gift.”

  “That’s quite a gift. Who gave you a pig?” The audience laughs. Francine beams.

  “Ah, can I tell you?” He looks at her, a half smile tugging at his mouth.

  “Sure! It’s just you and me. These lovely people won’t say a word, right folks?” And that, of course, causes the crowd to start screaming again. I hope when they watch this on TV, they recognize just how stupid they all look. It’s not like they’re young girls, either. The crowd is full of grown women.

  “Okay. So I dated this girl. Some of you might have heard about it. I’m not sure.” He’s answered by more high-pitched I love yous.

  Francine asks, “Which girl? You’ve been linked with one or two.”

  Ha! One or two? More like one or two hundred.

  “Yeah. But you can’t believe everything you read. We both know that.”

  “That’s for sure. So tell us. Who gave you the pig? And why?”

  “The lovely Candice Esperanza.”

  Francine looks at the audience and back at Jack. “Candice Esperanza. We’ve heard about that, right folks?” The crowd buzzes with excitement.

  “Right. Well, the press used a little…” He pauses, apparently searching for the right words. “They used creative license in telling stories about us. They made it sound like we had a terrible breakup. The reality is, we only went out a few times. She’s a great girl, but we’re both busy. It’s hard to start a relationship with crazy schedules like ours.”

  Francine nods. The audience is gobbling this up, waiting to hear the rest of the story. I am, too, for that matter.

  “We stopped seeing each other, but I have no hard feelings. Like I said, she’s a fantastic girl. I once told her how my uncle had a pet pig that I loved. She remembered and got Leo for me.”

  As if on cue, the entire audience says, “Aww.”

  “I know, right? So if you’re watching this, Candice, thanks.” He holds up Leo. “You’re truly one of a kind in my book.”

  “Well, that’s just wonderful. You see, everyone? Don’t always believe what you read in those magazines. Okay. We’re here with Jack McAlister. We’ll be back after a short break.”

  An assistant rushes onstage and attaches a harness and leash to Leo. Why the hell didn’t I have the harness and leash? I scowl and watch as two other people appear out of nowhere to touch up Francine’s hair and makeup. No wonder she always looks so great.

  I jump when the door flies open. It’s the guy who just pulled Leo offstage. “Here’s the pig.” He walks him over to the couch and hands me the leash. “I’ve gotta run. You good?”

  “Yes. Thank you.” He leaves before I can say anything else.

  “Hi, Leo. How’s it going?” I slide off the sofa and sit beside him. Not wanting him to freak out again, I take the box of raisins from the table and feed him from my hand. We watch together as Jack finishes his interview. The gift bag he left in the bathroom held a silver rattle for Francine Allen’s new baby. I wonder if Aunt Marnie put him up to that. What kind of guy knows to bring a baby gift?

  Leo snuffles at my arm. It almost feels like he kind of likes me now. He’s certainly a lot calmer. Too bad I didn’t know the raisin trick earlier. It might have made things easier.

  Just as I’m starting to relax a little, the interview is over. Half a minute later, someone pounds on the door.

  “Are you dressed?” Jack shouts.

  “Yes!” I shout back. “Can we forget that already?” I mutter.

  “Did you say something?” he asks, walking in.

  “Just talking to Leo. That’s all.”

  “Are you ready to go?”

  “Um. Yeah. Do you want me to take Leo again, or is he going with you?”

  “We’re both going with you.”

  “Oh.” Seriously? My car is filthy. I had no idea I’d be carting a movie star around today.

  “The show had a car service pick me up, but I figured you could bring me home. That’s what assistants do, I hear.”

  That’s what assistants do, I mimic in my head. His hotness is quickly wearing off.

  He moves past me to the bathroom and emerges seconds later sporting a baseball cap and shouldering a small Tumi duffel bag. “Let’s go,” he says, taking Leo from my arms.

  I refrain from making a nasty face at his back as I follow him out the door. We exit the sound stage and find a golf cart waiting for us. Max is behind the wheel.

  “Hey, Jessica. Long time no see. The pig’s out of the bag now, huh?”

  Ha. Ha. Ha. “Hi, Max.” I start to climb into the back of the golf cart.

  “I’ll take the back,” Jack says.

  “Oh. Okay.” The man needs to feel like he’s being chauffeured, even in a freaking golf cart. Super. I scramble to sit in the front seat. I’m relieved it’s Max who’s driving us. Even though I just met him, he feels like an ally.

  We zip along. Jack is silent, but Max is really good at making small talk, and for that I’m grateful. We reach the path that leads to the elevators, and Max pulls to a stop.

  Jack climbs out easily with Leo in his arms. “Thanks, man. Have a good one.”

  “Sure thing. See you guys later.” I do hope I’ll see Max later. He was kind of the only person who’s been nice and normal today.

  Chapter Three

  I walk ahead of Jack to the elevators and press the call button. We stand there, staring at the metal doors in silence. Super-loud silence. I smooth my hands down my gray pants, and when the doors open, I rush through them. As soon as Jack steps in, I press the five. The air hangs heavy around us, and the silence grows. We creep to the third floor, and I clear my throat. The slight noise startles Leo, and he snorts, which of course, makes me laugh. I press my fist to my mouth, forcing myself to stop. “Leo was great on stage, don’t you think?”

  “Yeah, Leo was cool out there.”

  We stare at the doors again. I wait for Jack to say something else, but, of course, he doesn’t. The doors rattle open, and I let out a sigh of relief, happy to be freed from our tiny prison.

  The stale garage air feels downright refreshing compared to the stifling elevator. I sweep a hand down my arm, as if brushing the tension off me. “Leo’s cute. Have you had him a long time?”

  Jack turns slightly, giving me a look. “Did you watch my interview?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Oh. Didn’t I say that I got him recently?”

  I shrug. “Maybe. You said that Candice Esperanza gave him to you, but you didn’t really say when.”

  “I got him right after Candice and I stopped hanging out. That was a few weeks ago.” He pauses. “With all the shit that’s written about me, it feels like everyone knows all the little details of my life. Like when I start or stop dating someone.”

  Oh, God. Does he really think that every single person on the planet gives a flying Fig Newton about the
minutiae of his life? “Huh. My car’s right here. It’s kind of a mess. Sorry.”

  He opens the passenger door and pauses, assessing the seat. There’s a crumpled tissue and a wad of Starbucks napkins sitting on it. I totally should’ve noticed them before he opened the door. I hope he doesn’t think I’m a complete slob. I grab the trash and put it in my Trader Joe’s bag. “I guess I can use this as a garbage bag now. I can’t imagine putting groceries in here after a live pig sat in it.”

  He doesn’t reply. God, he’s uptight. The plastic water bottles tumble at his feet as he gets in and kicks them to the side. A tiny part of me wants to do something crazy, like tune the radio to an opera station and sing along at the top of my lungs in gibberish, just to see if he might laugh. But he probably wouldn’t, and I’d end up looking like the fool that he already assumes I am.

  Leo sits on Jack’s lap and looks like he’s practically purring. Jack rubs his back and turns to me. “So, how do you think I came across in the interview?”

  Oh, please. Is this the part where I’m supposed to suck up to him and tell him how amazing he is? Because if that’s the case, I might vomit. “Really well.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah. You heard the crowd, right? I thought a few of them might pass out.”

  He laughs. It startles me. His laugh is nice. It loosens the knots that are twisting in my stomach.

  “That was a cute story about getting Leo.”

  “It is what it is.” He slides on his sunglasses and looks out his window.

  And I guess that’s the end of that discussion. I drive along Sunset Boulevard, trying to think of something safe to talk about. But yeah, I come up with nothing. Not a thing. I’ve never noticed how many palm trees line Sunset. They look cool. Maybe they should’ve named Sunset Boulevard “Palm Highway.” That doesn’t sound as chic as Sunset Boulevard, but maybe it’s because of the old movie. Oh my God! I can’t stand the silence. It’s unbearable.