by Matt Cain
‘And how can you be sure about that? How do you know they’re not spinning you a line?’
‘Oh I’m sure. Dead sure.’
‘Well I think you’re kidding yourself, bud.’
‘Ronnie, Billy’s not the problem. Trust me.’
‘I do trust you. But it sounds like you’re trusting a total douche-bag.’
‘Mate, Billy’s not a douche-bag.’ He lowered his voice and looked around to check that the bartender was out of earshot. ‘Billy’s gay.’
Ronnie looked at him open-mouthed.
As soon as he’d said it, Leo knew he’d made a mistake.
*
Mia puckered up as Billy moved in to kiss her.
‘Sorry,’ he whispered. ‘Do I taste of chicken?’
‘Don’t make me laugh,’ she joked. ‘You’re supposed to work me into a frenzy, remember?’
‘OK,’ he smirked. ‘How’s this?’ He began kissing her open-mouthed and she responded with a squeal of delight.
‘Was that too much?’ she asked.
‘No, sugar, it was just fine.’
‘Well I hope those paps are taking their pictures. Can you see them anywhere?’
‘Shut up and close your eyes. You’re supposed to be enjoying this.’
She closed her eyes and tried to lose herself for a moment. She told herself that she was acting but all she could think about was the last time she’d kissed Leo.
‘Excuse me,’ interrupted the waitress, ‘but would you guys like the check?’
‘Oh yeah, sorry,’ Billy stuttered, pretending to tear himself away. ‘I guess I’m getting a little over-excited.’
The waitress looked down with a shy smile.
‘Me too,’ said Mia, straightening her hair. ‘I think we’d better go home.’
‘Yeah,’ Billy smirked. ‘Before things get too X-rated.’
*
‘Well what do you know?’ Ronnie whistled. ‘Billy Spencer’s gay.’
‘Sshhh!’ hissed Leo. ‘Keep your voice down.’
Ronnie couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. He’d never have guessed in a million years. ‘But he doesn’t come across as gay,’ he went on as quietly as he could. ‘He’s just like a regular dude.’
‘And when was the last time you saw a gay bloke, Ronnie? They’re not all like Liberace.’
‘But what about that film where he was dating four chicks at the same time?’
‘Four Play?’
‘That’s it. Rosie made me sit through that romantic crap. But I totally bought him as a straight guy.’
‘That’s why it’s called acting, Ronnie. You might as well say an actor can never play a dad unless he’s got kids – or a murderer unless he’s killed someone.’
Ronnie raised his eyebrows and nodded. ‘Well I can’t wait to tell Rosie. Billy Spencer gay. That’ll put an end to her little crush.’
‘No, Ronnie, you can’t tell anyone. Not even Rosie.’
‘Are you serious?’
‘Deadly serious. This is a really big deal. And if it gets out then Mia will dump me faster than I can say . . .’
‘Liberace?’
‘Yeah.’
Just then their phones buzzed and they read another text alert letting them know that Mia and Billy were paying their check.
‘Go on, mate,’ said Leo. ‘You’d better get a move on.’
‘So you don’t mind if I go?’
‘Nah. As long your pictures are good. And you make my girl look beautiful.’
‘Gee, thanks bud – I appreciate it. I really need the dough since that Hunter Kelly job fell through.’ Earlier that week, Ronnie had turned up at the nightclub designated by Dominique, only to find her sitting in the back of a police car in handcuffs. Apparently Hunter had suspected that she was up to something so had hired a private investigator to follow her every move. The PI had busted Dominique’s honey trap right there and then and handed her over to the LAPD, who’d arrested her not only for possession of cocaine but for a string of charges relating to incitement and fraud.
‘You know what,’ mused Leo, ‘I’m kind of pleased Dominique got rumbled in the end. It’s kind of like in the fairytales your Mum used to read to you when you were a kid – you know, when the baddies always get their comeuppance.’
‘Yeah but this ain’t no fairytale, Leo. This is the real world. And I’m seriously broke right now. Also, I haven’t told you this yet but Rosie’s finally pregnant.’
‘Mate, that’s amazing!’ Leo stood up to give Ronnie a big hug.
‘Thanks, bud. We weren’t going to tell people yet as we only found out a few weeks ago and we still haven’t had the scan. But seeing as this is the night for revealing secrets . . .’
Leo grinned. ‘Yeah but that’s absolutely brilliant news. You’ll make a terrific dad, mate.’
‘Thanks but, you know, the first thing I’ve got to do is earn some dough. And fast.’ He took out his wallet to pay for his drinks.
‘Leave it, Ronnie. This one’s on me, honestly.’
‘Cheers, Leo. You’re a buddy.’
Leo leaned forward to give him another hug.
‘Now you go get ’em, partner.’
*
At her home in Bel Air, Violet was curled up on a black leather sofa reading the latest Jackie Collins. She couldn’t get enough of her favourite author – and one of the reasons she was such a fan was that Jackie didn’t get caught up in soppy sentimentality. No, Jackie Collins was a tough broad who knew the way the real world worked. Just like Violet Vaughn.
She put the book down and wondered how Mia and Billy were getting on with their own little work of fiction. She looked at her watch and realized that by now they should be in the car on their way back to Mia’s. She hoped they were putting on a convincing enough performance for the driver. He was a failed TV presenter-turned-crystal-meth-addict on whose desperation for money Violet had relied several times in the past. If Mia and Billy could convince him they were consumed by lust for each other, it would definitely end up in the papers.
And right now that’s exactly where Violet needed it to end up. This morning she’d read a blog post in which a self-appointed Hollywood commentator had questioned just how serious Mia and Billy were about each other. Sure, it was only a blog, but she couldn’t risk anyone smelling a rat now or her whole master plan might misfire. And then people might start questioning her position as one of the most powerful women in Hollywood – which was the last thing she wanted.
She felt a pang of loneliness and decided to mix herself a vodka and tonic. She went over to her private bar, filled a tall glass with ice and poured in the spirit. Halfway up the glass? Three quarters? The loneliness hit her with another sharp stab and she carried on tipping in vodka. Oh well, it’s mostly ice anyway. She filled the glass almost to the top and splashed in some tonic. There wasn’t much point adding lime seeing as she was drinking alone.
Oh I hate that word – ‘alone’.
Of course, she’d never admit that she was lonely to anyone else but she couldn’t hide it from herself. She knocked back a huge swig and then topped up the glass with more vodka.
Violet settled back onto the sofa and checked her emails on her phone. She hadn’t received any updates about tonight from the pap she’d planted in the restaurant – some straw-haired German guy who always smelt of unwashed dick. She knew she could rely on him but was starting to question whether she could rely on Mia and Billy. The other day Mia’s blabbermouth assistant had mentioned something about her having a boyfriend and Violet had wondered whether this was why Mia had been so reticent about the show-mance in the first place.
Well, Mia’s love-life isn’t my problem, she thought. And she could hardly be expected to feel sorry for her just because she’d found herself a nice man. She tried not to feel jealous and downed almost half her glass of vodka.
In Violet’s experience women like Mia had it easy. She’d be willing to bet that Mia hadn’t had to work half as hard as she had to g
et where she was today. No, everyone loved Mia and she was so beautiful people fell over themselves to do anything she wanted. Violet certainly didn’t buy all that crap about the tough childhood with a single mother in Cleveland. Tough? She doesn’t know the meaning of the word . . .
Violet could just imagine Mia at high school, the kind of girl all the boys wanted to go out with. The kind of girl who called her Vile Violet and made her life hell. She picked up her glass and drained it of vodka.
Well she wasn’t going to let any of that get to her tonight. Right now, she couldn’t care less about Mia Sinclair. All she cared about was that she was doing as she was told. And to hell with her boyfriend.
She opened up her Jackie and plunged back in.
*
Billy leaned into Mia and ran his hand along her side.
‘Are the paps following us?’ she whispered in his ear.
He looked over her shoulder and through the back window of the limo, which wasn’t blacked out so that the paps could see in. ‘Yeah, stop panicking,’ he said.
‘I’m not panicking – I just don’t want to go to all this trouble if no one’s going to pap us.’
He moved back to mime a look of outrage. ‘Well I’m sorry to put you to so much trouble, Mia. And anyway, this is harder for me than it is for you.’
‘Oh stop being so sensitive – you know what I mean. Now come on, aren’t you supposed to be ravaging me?’
Billy moved back in and kissed her passionately. The experience wasn’t unpleasant but it did nothing for him sexually. He’d heard fellow actors talk about how they struggled to stop themselves becoming too aroused when they were filming sex scenes. Obviously this wasn’t something that had ever troubled him and it wasn’t bothering him now – not remotely.
Through the window several cameras flashed at him and he felt almost blinded by one particular explosion. He closed his eyes and thought about Ryan Reynolds.
‘I hope you’re not thinking about Ryan Reynolds,’ Mia whispered mischievously.
Her comment threw him off course. ‘Erm, yeah, I was actually.’
‘Oh Billy! Can’t I be Justin Timberlake? Or at least Jake Gyllenhaal?’
‘Sssh,’ he hissed, motioning to the driver. ‘He might be able to hear us.’
They both looked and saw that the driver, although a few yards away and separated by a glass partition, was keeping a close eye on them through his mirror.
‘Well get on with it then,’ Mia piped. ‘Come on, I want to see an Oscar-worthy performance.’
Billy tutted loudly. With no director to guide him, he was finding this harder than he’d expected. He slipped his hand up Mia’s inner thigh and began stroking it gently.
‘God I’m totally starving,’ she sighed. ‘What I’d give for a blueberry muffin.’
‘Mia! How am I supposed to concentrate when you’re coming out with things like that?’
‘Well it’s true. That lousy meal didn’t even touch the sides.’
Now he was starting to feel seriously flustered. If this was ever going to work then he was going to have to turn up the heat – and soon. He slipped his hand up Mia’s back and began fumbling with her bra-strap. Again the flashbulbs exploded.
‘Oh baby,’ he ventured in a deep, manly voice, ‘let me see those beautiful titties.’
‘Billy!’ she shrieked. ‘What do you think I am? Some kind of slut?’
He threw his hands up in the air. This was impossible.
Just then the driver twisted his neck and opened the window between them. ‘Everything OK back there?’ he asked.
‘Fine!’ they both shrieked.
‘My friend here’s just getting a little carried away,’ Mia croaked. ‘But don’t you worry, I’ve got him well and truly under control.’
‘Well you’ll be home real soon,’ the driver promised, ‘and then you can get as carried away as you like.’
Billy felt a wave of relief. He couldn’t wait for this journey to be over.
*
For once, Ronnie arrived at Mia’s house earlier than the rest of the paparazzi. He calculated that he didn’t have much time to wait so quickly began setting up his camera.
He looked around for a good vantage point onto the action and remembered Leo’s favourite hiding place in a tree overlooking the garden. When they’d first discovered it they’d both tried climbing it but while Leo had effortlessly scampered up and onto a branch overhanging Mia’s driveway, Ronnie had only got a few feet up the tree before he tumbled to the ground, twisting his ankle in the process and ending up in the Emergency Room.
This time failure was not an option. This time Ronnie was going to scale the tree and nail the most amazing shot of the night. For too long now his career had been a joke to everyone who knew him. He was well aware of the fact that the other paps scoffed at him and said he was only in the game because he worked in partnership with Leo. Well he wasn’t going to stand for it anymore. Now that he was about to become a dad, it was time to get serious. And tonight he was going to earn some serious money – whatever it took.
*
Mia and Billy’s car swung into her driveway, leaving a crowd of paparazzi roaring their disapproval on the other side of the gates.
‘Come back, Mia!’
‘Don’t go, Mia!’
‘Let’s have a picture, Mia!’
As the car came to a halt, she checked her make-up in a compact and re-applied her lipstick.
‘Thanks very much,’ she said to the driver.
‘My pleasure ma’am,’ he winked. ‘You guys have a good night.’
‘Oh we will,’ grinned Billy. ‘We sure will.’
As Mia stepped out of the car she could hear the familiar sound of cameras snapping all around her. And her driveway looked almost floodlit with the effect of the numerous flashbulbs exploding simultaneously.
‘Give her a kiss, Billy!’
‘Go on, Billy!’
‘Just a little one, Billy!’
Mia had no idea where the paps were hiding; they were probably shooting from over the walls or through gaps in the bushes. She only hoped at least one of them had a clear view of her bedroom window.
She took hold of Billy’s hand and led him through the porch. Just as they were about to go inside she leaned over and gave him another kiss. If we’re doing this then we might as well do it properly, she thought.
She opened the door, shuffled Billy in and then shut the door behind them.
‘Thank God that’s over with,’ she moaned, slumping back to lean against the door.
‘Thanks a lot!’ joked Billy. ‘And anyway, it isn’t over yet.’
‘Yeah but at least we can relax now it’s just the two of us. That driver was watching us so closely I was convinced we were going to get busted.’
‘Yeah, well there’s no chance of that now. Shall we have a little drink? An interval after Act One?’
‘No, let’s go upstairs and get straight on to Act Two. Then we can close the curtains and really relax.’
‘Come on then,’ he said, holding out his hand. ‘Let’s give those boys their happy ending.’
*
Hiding in a cupboard under the stairs, Hector couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
So Mia and Billy weren’t seeing each other after all. The whole thing was a sham, probably to hype up the new film.
Well he’d been right to suspect that something was going on. And he’d been right to start digging for clues. He’d even been right to sneak into the house tonight, even though he’d felt at the time like he was crossing a line.
The whole thing was like the plot line from a romantic comedy and part of him was intoxicated and wanted to know what would happen next. But even though he was bristling with excitement at the idea of being in on such a big secret, he couldn’t help feeling disappointed that he hadn’t been let in on it in the first place. He knew that he was employed as Mia’s assistant but he’d thought that they were friends too. Hmpf! he thought. Ho
w wrong I was.
Mia obviously just saw him as a hired help, a Cuban gofer who was good enough to pick up her dry cleaning but not to share her intimate secrets. And to think that he’d been convinced he was special, that he was living the Hollywood lifestyle with genuine movie stars as close personal friends. He realized now that all along he’d been kidding himself. He wasn’t special at all; he was just the second-rate son of Cuban immigrants and that’s what he’d always be. No wonder nobody loved him.
No, I am special, he told himself defiantly. And if Mia won’t let me in on her secrets, then I’ll just have to find them out for myself.
Filled with a new determination and self-belief, he opened the cupboard door and crept out.
*
High up in the tree, Ronnie felt battered and bruised from a rather ungraceful climb. But it didn’t matter; he peered through the heavy foliage and realized he had an excellent view of Mia’s bedroom. It was amazing what the extra incentive of impending parenthood could make him do. Hmm, he thought, maybe I’m not so hopeless after all.
He pointed his lens at the bedroom window at the very second the two of them appeared, fully clothed but acting as if they were in the deepest throes of passion. They kissed ardently and Mia began ripping off Billy’s shirt. Knowing what he knew now, Ronnie could see right through their act. He was even sure he spotted them giggling to each other at one point. But what did he care? He told himself that looking at a set of stills in a newspaper or magazine, no reader would be able to spot them as fakes. No, there was no question – the pictures were pure dynamite. And he was the only pap who was nailing them.
As Billy turned towards him to close the curtains, Ronnie knew that the show was over. But it didn’t matter; he told himself that in the last ten minutes he’d probably earned himself more money than he had all year. And into the bargain he’d have made Rosie proud of him for once.
Ker-ching! Ker-ching!
*
‘If we’ve just had sex,’ smiled Billy, stretching out on Mia’s huge bed, ‘isn’t this when I’m supposed to roll over and fart?’
Mia elbowed him in the ribs. ‘I wouldn’t recommend it, otherwise you’ll find yourself on the floor.’
She picked up a pillow and threatened to throw it at him.