“Oh right, couldn’t he have just text me? I then could have gone and started on someone else.”
“No, he doesn’t do that. He doesn’t keep your personal number on him! He doesn’t like to frequent himself with his staff.” She glares.
What a bitch! He frequented himself last night! A smile rises to my mouth as I remember that passion which washed over us.
“Right, well I shall go and see if I’m needed somewhere else then.” I go to leave.
“I wouldn’t do that if I was you.”
I look at her raising my eyebrows.
“When Mr. Tate arrives he wants you here, not working on someone else. You’re working solely for him. Remember that,” she orders.
“What, I have to wait here for him? Why is he the king or something?” I smile.
“No! But he’s America’s number one most influential male of the moment. He also has been ranked in Forbes 10 most powerful celebrities in the world. Apart from that he is one of the most affluent actors around who is incredibly busy and still does a hell of a lot of charity work. Maybe, Jessica, you should remember who you work for! Instead of worrying about yourself,” she hisses.
Oh my God, what a bitch! I bet she’s in love with him.
“I’m sorry, I was only joking. Of course I am fully aware of how important he is. I will endeavor to offer my services to him in any way I can. But if you excuse me just for a moment I will pop down to set and inform them of what is going on.” I flutter my eyes in the only way I know, to say sorry.
“No need, I have already been down to explain-they are fully aware of situation!”
“Of course they are.”
“Just so you are clear, you are Elliott’s makeup artist, nothing more. No matter what happens,” she sneers.
Her phone rings, thank God, distracting her.
“Yes, Tara Baker speaking. Oh hello, Elliott. Yes, everything’s fine here. No they understand. Of course, they’ll wait……Aha!” she continues as she walks out the door. She’s obviously aware that I was listening. I look at the clock; he’s nearly three hours late. The amount of money it must cost to keep everyone just waiting around.
I decide to go and get some food from the catering trailer whilst I wait. Thank God, I didn’t see that women again since she walked out. I grab myself some sandwiches and head back to makeup room, heaven forbid he comes and I’m not there!
When I approach the room it’s practically full; lots of people buzzing around. I manage to push my way in and I spot Elliott! He’s not happy at all.
I can’t make out what’s being said but there are a few raised voices. I hear Hudson who is standing next to him.
“But Elliott it’s just one of those stupid whores that just sells yet another story for money! It’s bullshit, don’t worry about it! Maybe we should pay her a visit!” He laughs. I notice that he’s holding a newspaper.
I see Tara making her way through with a Coke for him. She’s at his side like some protective wife! I slyly try and get a bit closer to see what’s on the front page but stupidly catch my foot on the table and stumble! I manage this time to stay upright but the noise has caught everybody’s attention. Elliott looks directly at me and then looks away again. My question’s answered. It must have just been the alcohol!
Elliott stands, and turns to everyone.
“Right, enough of the bullshit. I need to get to work. Everyone who’s not working on this film needs to leave!”
He sounds so authoritative.
Everybody leaves except Hudson, Tara and myself.
I walk over to him and start getting ready. I touch his shoulder, putting tissues over his clothes. He totally ignores me.
I continue moisturizing his face, adding the anti-shine. He pushes my arm out the way as he re- reads the story in the paper. It is as if I don’t exist.
The producer appears at the door. Elliott are you ready? We really must get on.” He looks at me.
I nod. My intention’s not clear. I don’t want him to be ready and I want to talk to him about last night and about this morning. About the blonde bitch Tara!
I feel myself going red.
“Jessica, are you finished with me?” Elliott snaps.
“Yes,” I reply, sadness reeling throughout my body.
He doesn’t give me a second look and leaves.
It’s such a long day. I have to go on to set to do retouches, not that he really needs them. All I really want to do is go home and curl up on the sofa and nurture my pride. I think the last time I had been treated that badly, apart from Henry, was when I was fourteen and at a school disco. Mark Hurst had asked me to the disco. He’d picked me up and we went together, but he decided half way through evening that he didn’t like me anymore and went off with Annabel Dreft. That same humiliation had revisited me throughout today. The only saving grace is only Elliott and I know about it!
“Jess, I’m off home. Are you finished?” Mia asks.
“No, how come you’re finished?”
“The director decided that we had worked hard enough today. Especially as most of our scenes were this morning. Especially as Elliott was a no show. All the non-stars worked really hard,” she giggles.
“OK, I’ll catch you later then. Not sure what time I’ll be home but you take the car. I’ll catch a lift. Bye.” I look at my watch; it is 9:45p.m. God, it’s such a long day. I have to clean Elliott up before I can leave and set up for tomorrow’s 6:30a.m. start. I remember thinking how glamorous this job was until, of course, I started it!
“And cut, that’s a rap!” The best sentence you could here at 10:30p.m. There were only a few of us left at the studios. Elliott walks over to me.
“Jessica, can we make this quick? I’m starving and I need a drink.”
“Yes, of course,” I call following behind him to the makeup room.
It’s just the two of us now and it’s deadly quiet.
“Are you busy?” Elliott asks.
“What, now? Yes, I’m taking your makeup off,” I smile, trying to ease the tension.
“No, after?” His stare, so intimidating but yet sexy.
“No, not really I was just going to go home,” I smile and look away.
“Good, do you want to get some food?”
“Um, yes, can do. I’m hungry.”
God, I wish he would make his mind up instead of being so bloody inconsistent! My phone vibrates, distracting me.
“Jessica, I will go and get the car. I will meet you outside in two minutes. Don’t make me wait!” he smolders.
I pull my phone out of my bag and see I have a text from Henry.
My heart sinks.
Jess,
I hope work wells? If you get 5 minutes, can call me. I want to talk.
I’m on nights for the next week.
Missing you
Henry x
Oh shit! What am I doing? I have a loving ex-boyfriend at home who I know so well, who really does care about me, and I’m screwing around with a guy who can’t even remember what happened last night! I know deep down that I will be just another notch on his bed post, but that doesn’t stop me. God, I’m so messed up!
I check my watch; I’ve been a longer than two minutes. I grab my bag and run to the front entrance, throwing my phone back in my bag. Henry will have to wait. There, my decision is made.
I open the door and spot Elliott straight away. He is sitting in a Porsche Carrera GT in black. He gets out and opens my door. How very gentlemanly of him!
“Nice car,” I smile.
“Yeah, it’s not bad for a present.”
He shifts it into first gear and it goes, I mean seriously goes. I feel the thrust as I’m thrown back into my seat.
I look around the interior; it’s all beige with his initials engraved into the leather, the dash is all digital and silver. It must have cost a fortune.
“It’s a pretty nice present. Who gives presents like this?”
“Hudson,” he smiles.
God, is there nothing that man is not involved with?
“That was jolly nice of him.”
“It was because I made him thirty million last year.”
I feel my mouth drop open.
Thirty million dollars? Bloody hell, you’re talking telephone numbers. It makes my £40,000 a year seem like nothing.
I feel Elliott glance at me. “It’s just money, Jess,” he smiles.
God, I am so out of my depth. I thought I knew how to deal with people who had money, especially since Henry’s family was affluent. But this is totally different. I reckon my car probably cost less than the shoes he’s wearing. I start to squirm in my seat - it makes me uncomfortable.
Elliott notices and changes the subject.
“What do you fancy... eating wise?” he winks.
“I don’t mind, whatever you do.” Why am I so complacent around him?
“Italian, I love it.”
We pull up outside a little Italian restaurant which is hidden in the back streets of LA.
He pulls into a parking space marked Staff.
“Are we allowed to park here?”
“Jess, I’m allowed to park anywhere! Don’t you know who I am?” he boasts. “No, seriously. I’ve been coming here for years. They know the situation. I come via the back entrance so that the paps can’t get a picture.”
We walk through the kitchen to a table right at the back. The restaurant’s full but no one notices us as we slip into our seats.
I pinch myself to see if this is real. I can’t believe I’m having dinner with Elliott Tate. If I think too much about it, I’ll convince myself that I’m only here because he’s paying me, not because he likes me.
I propel that thought to the back of my mind so that I can consider some personal questions to ask him. I may never get this opportunity again. We talk for hours, he tells me about what a great relationship he has with parents and his younger sister, who’s still at college. How he managed to get into films-it was initially by modeling first and then he started going to auditions where he met Hudson. Hudson spotted a talent in him which propelled him into the vast world of movies… I lose my train of thought as I ponder the way to ask the next question. I want to know more about him and his personal life. He’s already asked about my boyfriend history, acting like he didn’t know about it. The words of Hudson flood back through my memory. He seemed more interested in the state of how my relationship was with Henry now than anything else. I lie and tell him we’ve been split for ages. Well, it’s semi-true.
I decide the best tactic is to follow his lead.
“So Elliott, who’s the most famous woman you’ve been linked to?”
“I can’t say, but….. Genevieve Smith”
“Really? Oh my God!” I can’t contain how shocked I am.
“Yes, we worked on a film together. She played my boss. She is an amazing woman- beautiful, clever, stunning.” I watch his eyes glisten.
My heart sinks. How could I ever compete with someone like that?
He notices my expression and quickly recovers the conversation.
“But nothing happened; it was just the paparazzi linking me to her. She was already taken by then. It worked brilliantly for my career though. Hudson really pushed it. More wine, Jess?”
“Yes, please. So do you have a girlfriend at the moment?” I nicely lead in to that question.
He looks up at me with a wicked smirk on his face.
“What a question, hey, Jess? Are you asking for any particular reason?” his phone beeps, breaking his sentence.
“Oh shit, Hudson’s on the war-path. He wants to know what we’re doing going for dinner,” he frowns.
“Why, aren’t we allowed to go out for dinner?”
He laughs, “No, Jessica. It doesn’t work like that.”
“I don’t understand. Can’t you just be honest and tell him we were hungry?” I suggest, trying to be helpful.
“No, he would never buy that. He likes to control the people I go out with. It’s all part of the lifestyle! I’ll deal with it in the morning.” He starts to eat again.
I return to finishing my spaghetti bolognaise. He grabs my hand and looks at me.
“To answer your question – no, I don’t have a girlfriend. I haven’t been in a relationship for about a year. It’s really hard in this business. For one, you never know if someone likes you for you, or is it the money and fame. Two, I’ve been burnt a couple of times and will never go back there and three, the most important, it’s hard to trust someone.” His expression softens.
“I totally understand that. It must be so hard. Well, you are one of the most recognizable men on the planet. I don’t really know how you do it. The pressure of constantly have people following you must be a nightmare, and as for having to be told what to do all the time, I think I would go crazy.” I look into his eyes and there’s sadness in them- I think it’s reality dawning.
“Yes, Jess, it can be hard, but I’m so fortunate to be in this situation. I will never forget that. I just have to deal with it; it’s all part of the job.” His whole composure changes.
Why again do I feel like a child being told off!
“I think we should head off, if you’ve finished. We both have early starts in the morning!” he suggests.
Elliott rises from the table and comes round and pulls my chair out. We head back through the kitchen to his car.
He holds the door open for me and before you know it we are both confronted by flash bulbs going off. There must be at least twenty-five photographers outside shouting his name. I try and cover my face with my hands, it’s blinding. He grabs my hand and pulls me through the mass of people. I manage to get into the car but they are relentless. They stand in front of the car so it’s hard to move; Elliott has to edge so carefully. He manages to make a path and we speed off.
“You’re right, it is fucking hard sometimes.,” he’s so angry.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come with you. I didn’t realize.” I apologize, not really sure what for though.
“No, Jessica, it’s not your fault. It’s this fucking job! I just wanted to be normal for half an hour, that’s all and now it’s going to be all over the papers about you and me! Hudson’s going to go crazy! Oh fuck!”
“I don’t understand why that’s so bad. We had photos taken yesterday at the ball and that was OK. But not now, what’s changed?”
“It’s not planned, Jessica. It’s all about publicity and the timing of it. Everything’s created to feed the press! This,” he points to me and him, “This hasn’t been approved; it’s going to change everything. I can’t explain it. You’ll just have to believe me. I can’t drop you at your place as they will follow and see where you live. I’ll have to take you to mine instead - I have private driveway and they won’t be able to get anymore photos there.”
I agree with him. I don’t want to annoy him anymore; he knows what he’s doing.
Elliott punches a couple of numbers into the driveway keypad. The huge wooden gates open and we are greeted by a magnificent driveway that curves towards what only can be described as a mansion.
“You live here?” I croak.
“Yes, this is where I call home.”
“It’s incredible! I have never seen anything like it.”
He pushes a button connected to the garage and the door opens. We drive straight in.
We’re instantly greeted by what I can only presume to be a butler.
“Good evening, Mr. Tate.”
“It’s not really, Simon.”
Simon notices me in the car and rushes to my door, but I’ve already opened it.
“Sorry, Ma’am, I didn’t realize Mr. Tate had company tonight.”
I smile really awkwardly wishing I knew what to say.
“Sorry Simon, this is Jessica, my makeup artist. We were having dinner and then got caught by the fucking paps! So now we’re stuck.”
Elliott semi-smiles at me and then I follow him into the h
ouse. We walk through the garage into a huge kitchen where we are greeted with an immaculate view of his garden through an enormous glass frontage. The kitchen is amazing, all black granite and silver. Very now! His kitchen is the same size as my whole flat back in London.
We don’t stop and I follow him into a lounge. “Jess, do you want a drink?” He sounds so pissed off. I’m afraid that the dinner has ruined any chance of anything we may have had – work-related or otherwise. I still don’t really understand why he’s so cross or what the difference between the two sets of photos are?
“Whatever you’re having,” I smile.
“Sit.” I do as I’m told.
“Two whiskeys on the rocks, please, Simon. Large ones!”
Err, I hate whiskey! But I’m not saying a word.
“I suppose I should ring Hudson and let him know what’s happened, then he can do damage limitation! I hate it when he’s friggin right.”
My ears pick up. The whole evenings been ruined anyway. I might as well try and find out what he’s talking about.
“What do you mean ‘he’s right’?”
“It doesn’t concern you, Jessica!” he snaps.
But I want to know. I’m not some little fan he can boss about!
“Elliott, please allow me the decency of an answer. You obviously have something on your mind which concerns me,” I bite.
He looks at me, shocked.
I look back directly at him! I’m not taking no for an answer.
He stands up and walks directly towards me. Shit! I feel the panic mounting. He grabs my hands and pulls me hard onto my feet. It’s all happening so fast. He grabs my face gently with both hands and kisses me, pushing his tongue forcefully into my mouth, I relax letting him, I don’t want it to stop. I place my hands on his hands and pull my face away from him. He doesn’t want to let me go, but stops kissing me. He rests his head on mine. I look up at him and he opens his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers.
“What for?”
“Everything - for kissing you, for snapping at you, for being an asshole.” I smile, but he doesn’t move his head from mine.
“It’s all fine. I just need to know what’s going on that’s all.” I stroke my hand down the side of his face.
Make Believe Page 4