Saved by the Celebutante

by Kirsty McManus

  “What was your other job?”

  He snorts and then points at the TV.

  “I used to work for that bitch.”

  I glance up at the screen and freeze. It’s Gia. She’s on Ellen talking about the launch tonight.

  Oh my God. Will is Billy?

  “You used to work for Gia King?” I ask faintly.

  “Pfft. Gia. She’ll always be slutty little Kahlua to me. I don’t know why she’s even trying to go legit. No one’s buying it. Everyone knows she’s still the same whore who only got famous because she fucked Jack Dean.”

  My mouth falls open. “That’s a bit harsh.”

  He’s barely listening to me. “I suppose she was all right at the beginning…did everything I told her…but towards the end, she was an absolute nightmare. I don’t know what happened. She started questioning everything. Got a bit too full of herself. She could have been bigger than the Kardashians by now, but she was too precious to do a sex tape or get her boobs done.”

  “I thought she already had breast implants,” I point out.

  “You mean those pathetic D-cups Jack bought her? You can’t even tell they’re fake.”

  “Isn’t that the whole idea?”

  He looks at me like I’m deranged. “I thought you were in PR! Don’t you know how the industry works?”

  “I’m sorry, but I must work in a different kind of PR to you. The kind I work in focuses on promoting people without exploiting them.” Thank God Brad hasn’t told Will where I am currently working. I guess I’ll have to pretend I’m still at Perry Tyler.

  He laughs nastily. “Honey, all PR is exploitation. The sooner you understand that, the sooner you’ll succeed.”

  Says the unemployed PR guy.

  “Well maybe you should ask Brad. I worked…I mean work, with him, so he could tell you if I know my stuff or not.”

  “Oh yeah. Do you know I referred Gia to Perry Tyler? You and Brad were basically getting paid because of me.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Come to think of it, everything started going wrong once she began working on that pathetic baby food project. Do you know who was assigned to her?”

  “No, sorry.” As if I’d tell him the truth. I suppose I could give him Quinn’s name, but I don’t hate her that much.

  “Probably some feminist bitch, by the looks of it. Trying to pass Gia off as an intelligent person.” He uses air quotes when he says the word intelligent.

  “Maybe.” Jesus. What kind of jackass am I living with?

  “So where are you off to tonight?” he asks, only half paying attention.

  “Oh, just out with some friends,” I lie.

  “You should come by the bar. Are your friends hot?”

  I smile, thinking how funny it would be if I took Penny and the gang to meet Will.

  “Yeah, they’re not too bad.” I would love to see Rochelle mess with him for a while.

  “Cool – so you’ll drop by?”

  “Um, I’ll ask them.” Like hell I will.

  “You totally should. I’ll take care of you. Free drinks.”

  “I’ll see what they say.” I look at the clock and start edging towards the door.

  Will glances back at the TV and switches it off in disgust. “I need to get back into the industry. I’m so bored with hospitality.” His eyes light up. “Hey, maybe you could put in a good word for me at Perry Tyler? Brad says he can’t because of some bullshit conflict of interest or something, but there wouldn’t be any if you did it.”

  Thanks, Brad.

  “Uh, I’ll find out who to talk to next week,” I agree hurriedly. “Hey, I have to go. Have a good night.”

  “Oh, right. Yeah, you too. And don’t forget to drop by. You know the address?”

  “I think so. It’s on that book of matches on the counter, right?”

  “That’s it.”

  “Okay, see you later.”

  I race out, glad to finally escape. I really hope he doesn’t start taking a liking to me. How can Brad think that guy is cool? I’ve never met someone so sexist and misogynistic in my life! And how could Gia stand working with him? She must have a major blind spot when it comes to men. But then just look at who her ex-husband is.

  I get to the Omni and sprint over to the ballroom. I’m now late thanks to Will.

  Gia is waiting near the door looking nervous, but she visibly relaxes when she sees me.

  “You’re here! I was worried you weren’t going to show!”

  “Sorry. You wouldn’t believe what happened…”

  “Tell me later. I need you to go and talk to the caterer. Apparently there’s a canapé emergency. And then the IT guy wants to ask you something about the PA system.”

  I switch to professional mode. “Of course. Leave it with me. Go have a glass of champagne and I’ll take care of everything.”

  She squeezes my shoulder. “I knew I could count on you.”

  I dash off to the kitchen. This is it. I’m about to find out if all our hard work has paid off.

  ***

  I clear my throat.

  “Uh, hi everyone. If you don’t mind, I’d like to say a few words.”

  The room goes quiet. Wow. This microphone is loud. Everyone turns to look at me. Public speaking is probably one of my least favorite things ever, right after sticking pins in my eyes and walking on broken glass. And now here I am surrounded by almost two hundred people, including journalists and B-list celebrities, and I’m expected to play the role of the cool MC.

  I slow my breathing and try to imagine everyone in their underwear. Which is a bad idea, because I suddenly have visions of the entire crowd dressed in corsets and fishnets.

  I shake my head to erase the image.

  “I appreciate you all coming out tonight. This is a very special evening for my amazing boss, Gia. When I first met her, I was immediately impressed by her work ethic and insatiable desire for knowledge. Gia is definitely a force to be reckoned with. It has been an absolute pleasure to work with her on this project, and I hope you all love the result of our efforts.”

  I pause for a smattering of applause.

  “Tonight, we are launching the Pure line of baby food. Gia was instrumental in every step of the process. She personally contracted an ethical manufacturer, sourced quality ingredients, and worked very closely with a designer to come up with a product that the mothers of America will love to buy, and that their children will love to eat. May I please present to you, Gia King!”

  The applause gets louder, and I encourage Gia to come up and stand beside me. Dozens of camera flashes go off around us.

  After a moment, I quietly step back so she can take center stage. She looks great tonight, in a floor length champagne-colored gown with long flowing sleeves and gold detailing at the cuffs and bust line. She has smoky eyes and her hair is styled to perfection. She is the epitome of the 1920s Hollywood starlet.

  “Thank you everyone,” she says confidently. “As you all know, I have three gorgeous children, and they were key in my decision to develop this line of baby food. In the past, I have struggled to find products that are both affordable and appealing…”

  I listen while she explains the philosophy behind her choices and why she settled on particular ingredients. I slip further into the background and sneak down the stairs to watch from the corner of the stage.

  “Nice turn out,” a quiet voice says beside me.

  I look to see who is addressing me and gasp.

  “You’re Peter Carson!” I whisper excitedly.

  He chuckles. “Last time I checked.”

  “I love every movie you’ve directed! Although, Christmas Eve was my favorite. I was amazed at how you managed to switch between all those different viewpoints and still maintain a sense of each character…” I trail off, realizing I’m acting like a star-struck groupie.

  “Why thank you, little lady. Working with that many celebrities was a challenge, let me tell you. Egos the size of Texas, the lot
of them. But it was worth it in the end.” He smirks and I know it’s because he won an Oscar for the film.

  “So what are you doing here? I don’t remember adding you to the guest list.”

  “I’m actually casting for a film and I want Gia to audition.”

  I narrow my eyes at him. “Really? What kind of movie?”

  Peter Carson is legendary, but you can never be too careful. What if he just wants to get her into bed?

  He roars with laughter and then covers his mouth when a few people shoot him annoyed glances. “I love how you assume the worst,” he says, his voice low again. “That’s a sign of a good publicist looking out for her charge.”

  I’m glad he finds it funny. I really do just want to make sure Gia makes good career decisions from now on.

  “Okay. So what’s the movie and what’s the role?”

  “It’s a biopic on the Kennedys, and I want Gia to play Marilyn.”

  “Monroe?”

  “The one and only.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Why not? I’ve been following Gia for a while, and I’ve always found her intriguing. But I’m particularly impressed with tonight.” He waves his hand around. “I assume you had something to do with it?”

  “I just guided her in the right direction.”

  “Come now. Don’t be so humble. It can’t be a coincidence this all happened once you became her publicist.”

  Interesting. Peter Carson knows when I became Gia’s publicist. I’m flattered. “I just want to see her reach her full potential. I also wouldn’t mind if I made that deadbeat ex of hers regret how he treated her.”

  “You don’t have to tell me about Jack Dean. I worked with him a while back, and excuse the language, but he was a complete asshole.”

  I grin. “We’re on the same page then. So, how do you want to do this?”

  “Give me your cell phone.”

  I scramble around in my purse and hand it over. When someone like Peter Carson wants to give you his number, you don’t hesitate.

  “You now have my direct line,” he says, handing back the phone. “Call me next week and we’ll set up the audition. I’ll have to convince a few people to go with Gia, but I’m confident they’ll see what I see.”

  “Great. Thanks, Peter. It was nice of you to come tonight.”

  “No problem. I have to go now, but pass on my best to Gia.”

  “Will do.”

  I watch him sneak out, scarcely believing what just took place. It takes a second for it to sink in, but then it finally hits me.

  Peter Carson knows who I am and he wants to make Gia a star!

  Can life get any better?

  TEN

  The night is a roaring success. Gia charms everyone, and several of the journalists promise prominent write-ups in their publications as they leave.

  I spend the rest of the evening pandering to the B-list celebrities and making sure the food and alcohol don’t run out.

  Just before midnight, I put Gia in a town car.

  “You are the bestest publicist ever,” she gushes, pulling me awkwardly towards her and hugging me tightly. She seems to have gone a bit overboard with the champagne, despite my efforts to hide the alcohol after I noticed her getting tipsy. She tries to kiss me on the cheek, but ends up missing and almost falls out of the car.

  “Go home and rest,” I urge. “You’ve had a big night.” I help her back into an upright position. She doesn’t yet know about the audition, but I don’t think now is the right time to tell her.

  I farewell the remaining guests and make sure the hotel staff are happy for me to leave before I jump in a cab myself.

  When I get home, the house is in full-party mode. To be honest, I was hoping I could just sneak off to bed, but as soon as I open the door, Brad staggers over and thrusts a beer into my hand.

  “Hey! It’s my smokin’ hot roomie!” he slurs to everyone within earshot.

  I am not in the mood to humor a bunch of crazy drunken twenty-somethings.

  “Big night?” I ask.

  “Yup! Party of the century! And it’s even better now that you’re here.”

  “I’m sure you have enough girls around to entertain you already,” I say. “Like, I don’t know…maybe Becky?”

  It turns out that Becky – the girl who texted Brad when I first looked at the house – thinks she’s Brad’s girlfriend. I am almost certain the feelings aren’t reciprocated, but I’m trying not to get involved because I have enough problems of my own.

  “Becky has to work tomorrow, so she left at eleven. Party pooper.”

  “And Will?”

  “Will’s still at work. To tell you the truth, I’m kind of glad. He’s been acting weird lately. Do you know what’s up with him?”

  “Maybe you should ask him. But did it ever occur to you that since he got fired by his celebrity boss he might be a bit down?”

  He doesn’t make the connection. “Nah. Maybe he just hasn’t gotten laid in a while?”

  I throw my hands up in exasperation. “Yeah, that’s probably it.”

  “Anyway, look at you, all fancy.” He wolf whistles as his eyes wander slowly up my body. I shrug. I’m only wearing a simple black lace dress with three quarter sleeves and a knee length hem. I suppose I did spend a bit more time on my hair and makeup than usual, so that might be why he’s making a fuss. Not that I’m going to take him seriously, considering how intoxicated he is.

  “Oh, look at you,” he laughs. “Pretending to be all what? This old thing?” He puts on a campy lisp and pretends to flick an imaginary ponytail over his shoulder.

  “I don’t sound like that,” I protest.

  “You totally do.” He puts his arm around me and drags me into the living room, where at least fifteen people are sitting around in various states of inebriation.

  “Come and meet the gang,” he says.

  I feel like I’m back in college, but I guess it’s preferable to be being surrounded by married couples.

  “Hey everyone, this is my roomie, Chrissie. We used to work together and she is a kick-ass PR guru.”

  A few people smile and wave. They seem like a friendly bunch.

  Brad turns back to me. “So how was your thing with Kahlua tonight?”

  “She’s Gia now, remember? But she’s good. The launch went really well.”

  “I knew it would. You are so classy.” He rubs my shoulder.

  “Stop it.” I playfully smack his hand.

  “What? Is there some rule about roommates not being able to touch?”

  “Would you do the same to Will?”

  “I might. But I’m not sure he’d appreciate it.”

  “Well, don’t just assume I’d appreciate it either. Anyway, does he know I work for Gia?”

  “Why should he?” Then it finally dawns on him. “Oh, right. It could be really awkward if he found out, huh?”

  “You think? Why didn’t you tell me before I moved in?”

  “I guess I forgot. But don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.” He pretends to zip his lips.

  “What am I supposed to tell him I do?”

  “I dunno. Make something up.”

  “I’m not good at lying.”

  “Don’t worry. He probably won’t ask. He’s more interested in other things, if you know what I mean.”

  “Yes, unfortunately I do.”

  “Anyway, enough about boring old Will. I want to introduce you to these two.” He shoves me in front of two guys.

  “This is Frank and Danny. You might feel more comfortable hanging out with them.” He leans over and whispers loudly in my ear. “They’re over thirty.”

  I pretend to be impressed. “Wow. Over thirty, huh? I guess we’re all just counting the days until retirement, then.”

  Frank looks at Brad, pretending to be insulted. “Thanks, dude. Remind me not to call you the next time I need a wingman.”

  Brad winks at me. “I’ll leave you guys to get acquainted.”

/>   I stand there awkwardly. I’m not sure what Brad is expecting me to do. Danny has red hair and almost see-through skin. His face looks friendly. Frank also looks friendly, but slick too. His almost black eyes make me jittery.

  “So I suppose we should talk about 401ks and funeral plans?” I quip.

  “If it makes you feel any better, you don’t look over thirty,” Danny says politely.

  “That’s sweet of you to say, but I don’t really mind being thirty-five. I mean, I’m not exactly where I thought I would be at this point in my life, but I wouldn’t trade it in for being twenty-five again. Can you imagine? Finishing college, having no money, living one day to the next without any thought for the future…” I contemplate what I’m saying. It’s not like I’m loaded now. And it might actually be beneficial for my sanity if I just took it one day at a time for the next few months. Maybe twenty-five isn’t all that different. The thought is actually quite depressing.

  “I know what you mean,” Frank says, apparently not catching my now conflicted expression. “I finally have a good job, I own an apartment, and I can afford to go on vacation a couple of times a year…”

  Danny laughs. “Well, I’m never going to grow up. If anyone asks from now on, I’m twenty-seven.”

  Frank rolls his eyes and turns his attention back to me. “You’re not married?”

  “Separated. You?”

  “Never married. But I was engaged once. For about three years until she decided I wasn’t ambitious enough, so she left. It’s funny that she’s now with a guy who earns less than I do.”

  “You’re better off without her,” I say sympathetically.

  “Yeah, it’s easy to say, but harder to actually believe, don’t you think?”

  I nod emphatically. “Very much so.”

  I’m just thinking how comforting it is to talk to a guy my own age, and one who has been through a similar situation to me, when I hear my name being called.

  “Chrissie! I need your help for a second!” It’s Brad yelling from down the hall.

  I smile apologetically. “Be back in a moment.”

  I hurry towards the sound of his voice and find Brad on the floor in his room. He appears to have his leg wedged under the bed.

  “What are you doing?” I ask, bewildered.