by Paige Toon
‘I don’t know.’
My iPhone rings.
‘Excuse me,’ I say to Johnny and put it to my ear. ‘Meg Stiles?’
‘Meg! It’s Kitty!’ comes the reply.
‘Hello! How are you?’ I put my fork down on my plate and turn away from Johnny. He continues to eat his food.
‘Great! Can you talk?’
‘Um…’ I glance across at my boss. ‘We’re just having some lunch.’
‘Lunch with Johnny?’
‘Mmmhmm.’
‘You are soooo lucky…’
‘Anyway!’
‘Anyway, anyway, I won’t keep you from him, I just wanted to ask if you were up to anything tonight?’
‘Oh. No, I don’t think I am.’
‘It’s just that Rod’s out of town and I kinda fancy a night out. Do you want to come?’
‘Let me check that’s okay.’
Johnny looks up at me, enquiringly. I cover the phone’s receiver with my hand and tell him. He nods.
When I hang up. Johnny’s looking at me with interest.
‘Where are you going?’
‘Oh. I forgot to ask.’
‘I’m sure she’ll know all the hip places,’ he comments.
And she does. Kitty is taking me to the Skybar, which is the residents’ bar at the Mondrian hotel–but it’s not just any hotel bar. It’s a hang-out for countless celebs and is up in the hills with spectacular views overlooking the city. It also has a swimming pool and is conjoined with Asia de Cuba, the restaurant Johnny took Serengeti to the other night. I agree with Johnny: they should have sat out on the terrace. It’s much nicer.
The doorman recognises Kitty immediately and ushers us in. It’s still warm and sunny, and we head in the direction of the pool, past a group of gorgeous young socialites, who are chilling out on sunloungers, even though they’re fully dressed.
Kitty and I perch upon a gigantic cream ten-foot-square beanbag, and a waitress comes over and takes our order. We opt for Mojito cocktails.
This city clearly has an inclination towards vertically challenged furniture, because, just like the waterbed the other night, it’s not easy to sit upright on this beanbag thing. But the atmosphere is relaxed, so we lie back and prop ourselves up on our elbows to talk.
There are three guys sitting opposite us who look like they could be in a rock band. One of the guys strips off his white vest to reveal a tattooed, tanned torso.
Kitty sighs. ‘You’ve gotta love LA,’ she says.
‘Is this where you’re from?’ I ask.
‘No.’ She rummages around in her Gucci handbag and pulls out a pair of designer sunglasses, slipping them onto her face. ‘I grew up in Chicago. My family are all still there.’
‘Do you miss them?’
‘Sometimes.’ She shrugs. ‘But Rod keeps me so busy it’s hard to miss anyone or anything.’
‘What’s he like to work with?’ I ask.
‘He’s good fun. He bought me this bag,’ she says, lifting it up.
‘Wow!’ I exclaim. ‘Was it your Christmas present or something?’
‘No, for Christmas he got me a car.’
‘No way!’
‘Yes way. He got me this,’ she holds up the bag again, ‘because I fibbed to his fourth wife for him.’
‘Oh.’ I giggle, awkwardly.
She shrugs. ‘I knew she’d find out about his latest affair sooner or later, anyway. And she did,’ she adds. ‘They just got divorced.’
That’s right. I remember her telling Charlie this at Serengeti’s premiere party.
‘Is he a bit of a lech, then?’ I ask.
‘No, not a lech. He’s always been the perfect gentleman to me,’ she clarifies, just in case I was wondering, which I was…‘He just loves women. And can’t keep his hands off them.’
A busty Asian girl in a skimpy gold bikini and heavy dark eye make-up walks down the steps into the pool. She submerges herself, tilting her head so her long black hair falls slick and wet down her back.
‘I can’t imagine going for a swim here in front of all these people,’ I remark.
‘No, me neither,’ Kitty replies. ‘But if I had a body like that, I would.’
‘You’re not far off,’ I say. I’m not actually lying. She’s super-slim.
She laughs. ‘Thanks.’ She turns to me, eagerly. ‘Hey, shall we order some nachos?’
I always thought everyone in LA would be a diet nut and gym freak, so it’s refreshing to meet someone who’s actually normal when it comes to food.
We call the waitress over and order a couple more Mojitos to go with our nachos. Then we lie back and enjoy the scenery in the last of the day’s sunshine. The Asian babe is now leaning out of the side of the pool flirting with the shirtless rock star guy.
‘Hello, hello.’
I follow Kitty’s gaze towards the door. Isla Montagne has just walked in, closely followed by a group of girls, one of whom I recognise to be Charlie.
‘Great,’ Kitty sighs.
I’m not pleased to see Charlie, and I don’t think much of Isla Montagne either, but it’s still quite exciting to be at the same bar as her.
Isla and her group stand at the entrance for a moment and scan the venue. Charlie spots us and turns to say something to Isla.
‘Wonder what that was about?’ I murmur.
‘We’re about to find out,’ Kitty replies.
Isla and her friends strut past the sunloungers towards some comfy-looking seats with an outlook over the city, but Charlie breaks off and comes to talk to us.
Kitty pops her sunglasses on top of her head and sits up a bit.
‘Where’s Johnny tonight?’
Straight in with the direct question.
‘I don’t know,’ I say.
‘Some PA, you are,’ she jokes, unpleasantly. She’s tied her hair back into a tight ponytail and it highlights her sharp features.
The waitress appears with our nachos and places them down between Kitty and me on the giant beanbag. She hands over our Mojitos.
‘Can I get you anything?’ she asks Charlie.
‘No,’ Charlie glares at her. ‘I’m with Isla Montagne.’ She stresses the name as though the waitress should know much, much better.
Kitty and I tuck in.
‘Is Serengeti still out of town?’ she asks me.
My mouth is full and I make no attempt to hurry before answering.
‘Yes,’ I say, and pop another nacho into my mouth. This tactic seemed to work at Serengeti’s premiere with the canapés, and if it ain’t broke, right?
‘When’s she back?’ Charlie asks.
I shake my head and continue to chew.
‘God, every time I talk to you two you seem to be stuffing your faces!’ Charlie explodes.
Kitty, unperturbed, lifts up the bowl of nachos and offers it to her. ‘Want one?’
‘No thanks,’ Charlie says, spitefully. ‘I’d only end up like you–throwing my guts up in the toilets later.’
The smile falls from Kitty’s face. Charlie storms off.
I turn to my friend. ‘What a total bitch!’
Kitty doesn’t say anything, but her face is red with anger.
‘I can’t believe she just said that,’ I say.
Again silence from Kitty.
‘It’s not true, is it?’ I ask, startled.
‘No!’ she hotly denies. But she seems to lose her appetite after that.
At about ten o’clock that night, Kitty suddenly bolts upright on the beanbag.
‘Hey,’ she nudges me, excitedly. ‘Johnny’s here!’
My stomach involuntarily tightens when I spot him, sauntering through the crowd.
‘Johnny boy!’ I hear someone nearby shout. I turn to see who it was and realise it’s the rock star type with his top off. Johnny goes straight to him and his mates and they greet each other warmly. The Asian babe, who’s still wearing her now-dry bikini, stands up demurely and goes to shake Johnny’s hand.
‘Looks like a porn star to me,’ I observe.
‘Probably is.’ Kitty giggles. ‘Call him over,’ she says.
‘No.’ I shake my head.
‘Why not?’ Kitty demands, and I detect a little frustration.
‘It’s my night off and he didn’t know we were coming here.’ I try to sound casual. ‘Maybe he wants some time to himsel—’ My voice trails off as Johnny turns around and spots us.
‘Hey!’ he says, coming over.
Kitty beams. ‘Hello, again!’
‘I didn’t know you two were coming here.’ He bends down and gives Kitty a peck on the cheek. Even in the darkness of the outdoor bar I can see her blushing. She tries to keep her cool.
‘You alright?’ Johnny asks me.
‘Yeah, good,’ I say. I don’t get a kiss and try not to look like it bothers me.
The waitress re-emerges and looks a darn sight happier than she did when taking our orders.
‘What’re you drinking?’ Johnny motions down at our glasses.
‘Mojitos,’ I tell him.
‘We’ll get a couple of those and I’ll take a vodka tonic,’ he tells her. ‘Hey, what are you guys drinking?’ he calls across to his rock buddies and the babe.
‘Bubbles!’ the girl shouts back, merrily lifting up a bottle of champagne to prove it.
‘Yeah, make it a few bottles,’ he tells the waitress. Then he leans down and flicks me on my bare leg–I’m wearing a short skirt and heels. ‘Budge over, Meg.’
I do as he says and he collapses back on the beanbag in between us. Kitty, I know, will be beside herself about this.
‘What do you reckon?’ He looks over at me. ‘Comfier than the waterbed?’
‘Just a bit,’ I tell him, smiling. ‘The Standard Downtown,’ I explain to Kitty. ‘Where we went after the gig last Thursday.’
‘Oh, those waterbeds,’ she says, then she looks at Johnny and pouts. ‘I didn’t get an invite to your gig.’
‘Aw, sorry, babe,’ he says, grinning and slapping her on her thigh. ‘Next time.’
I don’t like the way they’re looking at each other so I’m grateful when the waitress turns up with our drinks.
‘Johnny, Johnny! Come over, man!’ Hot Shirtless Guy says.
‘Gotta go.’ Johnny stands up. ‘Duty calls.’
We watch Johnny take a bottle of champagne from one of his mates and swig straight from it. I soon remember it’s rude to stare and look elsewhere. Charlie, on the other hand, doesn’t follow that particular rule of human etiquette because I notice she’s staring at us from across the other side of the pool.
‘I bet she thinks we lied about not knowing Johnny was coming here tonight,’ Kitty says, clocking Charlie herself.
‘Mmm, probably,’ I say. ‘Oh, well.’
Johnny doesn’t pay us any attention again for about another hour, and it’s a painful sixty minutes, trying to act indifferent as a gold bikini-clad potential porn star hangs off his every word.
I’m convinced Kitty is also trying to seem unfazed, and I wonder if I’m that transparent to her.
When Johnny does eventually come back over to us, we must visibly brighten up.
‘Hey, Meg,’ he says, half-empty champagne bottle hanging in his right hand, along with a lit cigarette. ‘Can you get me a suite?’
‘Sure.’ I stand up. ‘Any particular one you want?’
‘No, no, any’s cool,’ he says, taking a drag of his smoke and wandering back over to his mates. The Asian babe puts her hand intimately on his waist and he bends down as she says something in his ear. His expression is blank as he stands up straight again, but she giggles.
‘Somebody’s in the mood to party,’ Kitty comments, drily.
I glance at her, annoyed. What does she mean by that?
I go to reception and book Johnny a suite, taking the key back out to him. The five of them file off together, and as I watch them go, I feel increasingly hollow. When someone has the ability to light up your insides and just as quickly snuff them out, all by his mere presence, it’s not good. Crushes like this hurt. And I don’t want to have a crush like this on my boss.
Kitty turns to me. ‘I should probably head home,’ she says, dully. ‘You want a lift?’
‘Yes,’ I answer. ‘That would be good.’
As we walk through reception towards the exit, I feel a pincer-like grip on my upper arm and turn around to see Charlie. She looks wasted. Her eyeliner is smudged and the pupils in her eyes are large and hazy. The sight is not pleasant.
‘Is it true Johnny fucked Paola?’ she slurs.
‘Sorry?’ I answer, feeling dizzy.
‘Did he fuck her? Is that why she left?’ Charlie persists.
I look around and spot Isla and her friends standing on the other side of reception. A couple of them glance over at us.
‘I’m sorry, I don’t know.’ I shudder.
‘Have you fucked him yet?’ she demands to know.
I reel backwards. ‘No! Of course not!’
Then she collapses into a fit of drunken giggles and stumbles over to her group.
Kitty pulls me towards the door.
‘I just asked her if she’d fucked Johnny!’ we hear Charlie squeal behind us, on the verge of hysteria. The other girls scream with laughter. I follow Kitty out as quickly as I can. The incident leaves a nasty taste in my mouth and I’m quiet on the journey home.
‘Don’t take any notice of her,’ Kitty tries to tell me. ‘No one listens to a word she says, anyway.’
I just know I’ll be keeping as far away from Charlie as I possibly can in future.
Chapter 10
It’s Sunday and I’m sunbathing by the pool when Santiago arrives for his weekly gardening session.
‘You’re not wanting to swim anytime soon, I hope?’ he says to me, kneeling down and pouring chemicals into the pool’s filter system.
Actually, it is so hot that I could do with a dip, but never mind. My fifty laps have fallen by the wayside. I think I only ever got as far as thirty-five.
‘Have you had a good week?’ he asks. ‘Been to any more premieres?’
‘Sadly not.’ I lean behind me and pull the back of the sunlounger up a notch so I can see him properly. ‘I did go to the Skybar last night, though. That was fun.’
‘Cool, man. Did you see any celebs?’
‘Only Isla Montagne. And Johnny.’
‘Isla Montange. Jeez…She’s a piece of work, isn’t she? A mate of mine used to do the gardening at her daddy’s place and he swears she tried to seduce him in the bushes.’
‘That’s some claim to fame,’ I comment. ‘Did he go for it?’
‘He says he didn’t–he’s got a girlfriend–but I don’t know…’ he adds with a grin. ‘God, it’s hot today!’ He wipes the sweat from his brow and drags his T-shirt over his head. ‘Where’s Johnny? He home?’
‘No,’ I answer. ‘He stayed at the Mondrian last night.’
‘Do you think I could grab a glass of water from the bar?’
‘Of course,’ I say. ‘I’ll get one for you.’
Santiago is sitting on the pool steps with his feet in the water when I get back. I hand him the glass.
‘Thanks. You mind if I smoke?’
‘Um, no.’ I’m hesitant, but I don’t suppose it matters if he takes a breather.
‘You want one?’ he offers.
‘No, thanks. I don’t smoke.’
Pretty much as soon as Santiago lights up, Johnny slides the glass door open and comes out. Santiago leaps to his feet and stubs his cigarette out in one of the tall steel cylindrical ashtrays.
‘Sorry,’ he blurts. ‘I was just taking a quick break!’
‘Sure you were,’ Johnny comments drily and gives me an unamused look.
Santiago hurries off to the other side of the house to do some gardening, I presume, and I stand up.
‘I’ll get out of your way,’ I say,
thinking I’ll go up to my room and leave him to chill out in peace.
‘Why? You don’t have to do that,’ he says, frowning.
‘I don’t want to encroach on your space.’ I wrap my sarong around me and start to tie it up, but he comes over and puts his hand on my arm, making me look up, sharply.
‘Meg, don’t be ridiculous. This is your house too, now.’ He lets go of my arm. ‘In fact,’ he says, looking around at the sunny day before us, ‘I think I’ll join you. Back in a tick.’
He goes inside and I tie my sarong up anyway, feeling too exposed lying there in a bikini. I perch on my sunlounger again, wanting to sit up, but knowing I’ll look better if I’m lying down with one leg slightly raised, like they tell you in women’s magazines. I reach behind and adjust the back of the sunlounger again so I’m able to lie flatter and avoid any unnecessary creases in my stomach. But as I’m doing it, my fingers slip and the back crashes down, right onto my hand.
‘OW OW OW OW OW OW OW!’ I yell, trying to pull my hand out.
Johnny appears in a flash and whips the sunlounger back up.
‘OW!’ Tears prick my eyes as I study my hand. There’s an indent across it where it was trapped and it’s gone bright red.
Johnny gingerly takes my hand. He’s wearing swimming trunks and nothing else. The sight is a nice distraction from the bluish tinge that I now see is starting to appear.
‘Are you okay?’ he asks, concerned.
‘Mmm,’ I nod, wiping away my tears with my good hand, while he nurses my swollen one.
‘Aw,’ he says, gently.
I sniff.
‘I’ll get you some ice.’
He comes back from the outdoor bar, ice wrapped in a tea towel. I flinch as he presses it onto my hand. If it was anyone else, I’d rather hold the ice myself, but right now I’d rather suffer the pain just to be close to him.
‘That better?’ he asks after a while.
‘Much better, thank you.’
He lets go of my hand and lifts his sunglasses up on top of his head. His eyes look red and sore.
‘Big night last night?’ I ask.
‘Yeah,’ he says, glancing at me. ‘How was yours?’
‘Okay, thanks.’
‘Did you stay long?’
‘No, we left shortly after you went upstairs. Were those guys you were with in a rock band?’