“Okay,” Devin said. “Enough with the yelling and the pointing and the giving the finger.”
“Sorry,” Lori Plom said. “She’s just such a fucked up bitch that I have to get back at her.”
Unfortunately at that moment, the people in front of them cleared and the junior officer got Lori and Devin was stuck having to encounter Bronco Bennett.
She handed him her ticket and her police ID.
“Here you go, Bennett.”
“Yeah, you remember me do you?”
“Sounds like you remember me.”
“The bitch whose complaint 7 years ago kept me from being made chief? How could I forget?”
"Maybe you're just bad at your job."
He looked at her badge and ID. “You made Detective. Good for you. I won’t ask who you had to sleep with. I’m pretty sure it was Esteves.”
“Charming as ever, Bronco.”
“Heard you’re a dyke now.”
Devin didn’t respond. She just shook her head.
He handed her her ID back.
At that moment, Bronco spotted Lori Plom making her way onto the red carpet. He smirked. “This your latest girlfriend?”
Devin walked on through. “Actually, no, that would be your wife. Tell her I say hi.”
She began the walk up the red carpet, behind Lori who suddenly seemed to know everyone and their brother and their brother’s publicist.
Devin glanced up ahead, there being interviewed by that hyperactive twig thin Sally Bixby from Hollywood PM was a late thirties, tall knockout in a green dress, her shiny brown hair pulled back in a ponytail and her smile beaming.
“Oh God...” Devin whispered, “Everett...”
19
Richard Blakely made his way along the backstage corridor to dressing room 14. All he knew was Kyp Valentine needed something. The guy was fucking nuts, used to beat up DP’s on the set if he wasn’t lit right, fist fights with directors, that sort of thing. But since he got old and then ancient everyone knew he’d always just been kind of off. Maybe Alzheimer’s, maybe one too many blows to the head from the husbands of married women he fucked over the years.
Richard knocked on the dressing room door.
Kyp Valentine opened it a moment later. He looked up at Richard. “Whaddyou want?”
“You asked to see me, Mr. Valentine?”
Kyp scowled. “Who are you?”
“Gunnar Leise. I’m in charge of security.”
Kyp’s white eyebrows raised in surprise. “You’re who?”
“Gunnar Leise.”
Kyp looked a little wild eyed and lost. Poor old fucker, Richard almost felt sorry for him.
Kyp Valentine squinted at him. “Wait - who are you?”
“I’m Gunnar Leise.”
The old man looked confused. He shook his head.
“Mr. Valentine, Is there something you need?”
Kyp Valentine stared at him a long beat. Then finally spoke. “No... No. I want Sis.” Kyp said. “I need to see Sis Warren. Not you. Sis.”
“She’s a bit busy, Mr. Valentine-“
“Now! I don’t care if she’s busy!”
Richard looked around the hallway, people were noticing. “Alright... alright. I’ll see if I can get her for you.”
Kyp Valentine kept shaking his head, like no no no no no. Then he slammed the door in Richard’s face.
Richard stood there in the hallway a moment, a bit unnerved by this guy’s crazy energy.
Finally, he turned and strode back down the hall.
He popped his head into the director’s booth.
“Sis,” he called in. “Kyp Valentine’s a bit off. He needs to see you. Think you better go.”
Sis sighed. “Great, what now?” She flicked off her headset, and got up from her seat at the board. “We’re 20 minutes to air.”
A minute later she was walking out into the hallway with Richard who stayed in character for all the other people around.
“He’s a crazy old bastard. I knew it’d be trouble using him to present.”
Richard nodded. “Let me know if you need anything.”
They parted ways in the hallway. Richard headed to the press room as Sis made a left and headed towards the dressing rooms.
She got to Kyp Valentine’s dressing room and knocked on the door. A moment later he answered, standing in front of her looking like he’d seen a ghost.
“Come in...” he said in a hurried whisper, looking around the hallway just past her as if for someone or something threatening.
She stepped into the dressing room. He closed the door behind her and stood by the food table looking like something was on his mind.
“Okay,” he started, pointing at the food table. “First of all – this is a brie cheese wheel. I wanted Camembert. Did you assholes think I wouldn’t know?”
She sighed. “Kyp,” Sis said, “I’m sure it wasn’t intentional. Now, if there’s nothing else...”
“Oh, there’s something else, all right.”
He looked at her, his eyes crazy. His mouth almost quivering with the news.
“That man is not Gunnar Leise.”
Sis felt her heart skip a beat. Fuck! This asshole wasn’t that crazy after all.
“What?”
“That man.... the guy in charge of security...”
He leaned in close. Sis could smell whiskey and some kind of ointment.
“He’s an imposter. We need to call the police.”
20
Twenty minutes to showtime, Devin Jones was looking around the very red, majestic, ornate theater lobby, gazing casually at all the people who could have been her date instead of the woman standing next to her in a tuxedo and presently eating from a small bag of Cheez Doodles she’d brought in her pocket.
“It’s my blood sugar. Gotta eat,” Lori Plom was saying. “Babe, you sure you don’t want some?”
Devin looked at Lori, whose mouth was now circled with orange. “No thanks...” she said. “And no ‘babe.’”
Lori spotted someone way across the lobby, she waved and orange Doodle dust flew from her fingertips. Devin was so past cringing she was practically numb.
Lori shoved the Cheez Doodle bag into her pocket. “Look, Babe-”
“ - No babe”
Lori winked. “Right. I’ll save that for later.”
“No later.”
“Anyway, I’ve gotta talk to someone over there. A business thing. You want to get yourself a drink or something?”
“I’m not sure they have a large enough glass...”
Lori wasn’t really listening. “Good stuff,” she said with a green mascara’d wink. Then she lumbered off to some Hollywood type, leaving Devin feeling released for the first time all night, as though she’d just been freed from a Cheez Doodle eating bear trap.
Devin turned and made her way through a cluster of bejeweled A-Listers to the bar. Suddenly she looked up and her heart stopped. There right in front of her all of a sudden – Everett Cale.
“Oh...” Devin said. “Hi.”
“Hey…” Everett said, clearly surprised to see her. “What’re you doing here?” She looked warmly at Devin. From her eyes to her mouth and back to her eyes.
Devin noticed. Please don’t look at me like that.
Devin felt breathless a moment as she gazed at Everett who looked incredibly sexy in a green, low-cut gown with her hair pulled back. Devin took it all in - those sparkling green eyes, the little cleft in her chin, that amazing mouth she had kissed so many times. And then there was that body. God she was beautiful. Why did she have to be so beautiful? That wasn’t helping anything right now.
“I’m – I’m on a date,” Devin said.
“Oh…” Everett smiled weakly. “I guess who am I to ask?”
“Something like that…Where’s your fiancée?”
“He’s inside already.”
Devin took a deep breath. Her heart was aching with all the words she wanted to say and all the things
she wanted to be true that weren’t.
“Everett…I should go…”
Everett touched her elbow. “Wait...”
Good God did even that have to be sexy? Devin felt all the torture of the past two years catching up with her. Ever since that night on the set. The first night they met. When movie star Everett Cale had started with “So… you always carry your handcuffs on you?” And Devin said something flirty back and the flirtation became an on set affair that then became a full blown love affair. Sometimes Everett was hers totally and completely. And sometimes she was a million miles away. Sometimes she wanted to leave the business and just be in love with Devin. And then other times she’d be on a date at The Ivy with some A List actor people would talk about.
What Devin didn’t expect was that one of those A List publicity setups would actually become something real enough to end them. Not that there ever was an official them to end. That’s part of what hurt Devin so much. She left this relationship knowing it had happened. No one else did. Did Everett?
Everett was looking into Devin’s eyes by the lobby bar. People were around, people were right there. But there was something about a fiancée that created a shield around them suddenly where Everett could touch her in public.
“Devin, wait,” Everett was saying. “Don’t go.” She looked around. “Can we talk?”
Devin wanted to walk away. Just walk away. Right past her bad date. Right out the door. Out to Hollywood Boulevard. Call Brad, have him come pick her up. Just leave.
“Fine,” Devin said. The truth was, the one thing she wanted to do more than leave was kiss her. She hated herself for it, but it was true. Everyone has their kryptonite. And Everett Cale was hers.
Everett looked around, spotting something. “Here, this way...”
She took Devin’s hand and led her into a ladies room around the corner, out of the way and out of sight.
Once inside the ladies room. Devin watched as Everett quickly walked through and checked there was no one in any of the stalls. She turned and walked back towards Devin, looking into her eyes and not speaking. They didn’t need to. Devin felt her breath quicken as Everett walked up to her and in one motion pulled Devin into her body, roughly pushed her against the door and started kissing her.
Devin’s heart was pounding; she tossed her evening bag onto the sink and gently placed her hands on the sides of Everett’s face as she desperately kissed her back. Feeling Everett’s body pressed against her, Devin felt her own body surrender - panting into Everett’s mouth as they kissed and letting herself be totally overtaken - her thoughts suddenly whirling between I love you and fuck me. What was even happening?
The whole world suddenly disappeared. All she heard was her own heart beating and all she felt was Everett’s tongue in her mouth and Everett’s hands moving up her dress.
Suddenly Devin remembered where she was and what had happened between them and this girl was going to get married. She pulled away.
“Wait...no,” Devin whispered.
“What is it...” Everett said.
Devin walked over to the sink. She leaned on it to gather her thoughts and because her legs were weak from the way that Everett Cale kissed her.
Devin looked back at Everett. “What are we doing?”
“Baby...” Everett whispered. She came over next to her, her warm breath in Devin’s ear. “I can’t help it. I still-”
Devin felt tears sting her eyes. She moved away from Everett.
“What are we doing?”
Everett reached over and stroked Devin’s face with the back of her hand. It was so full of love and tenderness that Devin felt like she might break.
“Everett, don’t…”
They stood in silence a moment. Everett reached over and put her hand on Devin’s, who this time was too broken to move hers away.
“Devin…”
Devin looked up at her. She suddenly felt so weary. Like the ache in her heart had actually weighed down her whole self. “What, Everett…? What could you possibly say to me that’d make anything better? Can you tell me you’re not getting married? Can you tell me you changed your mind?”
Everett bit her lip. “No…” She said quietly.
Devin closed her eyes. It was starting to hurt all over again. She felt a lump in her throat and had this terrible feeling that she was going to cry. Oh God. Make this stop.
She gathered herself. She picked up her bag. “I have to go…”
This time she didn’t turn around. She didn’t even look at Everett. She couldn’t.
She walked out of the bathroom and saw Lori Plom standing across the lobby drinking a glass of champagne.
God help me…
21
“Sis, did you even hear what I said?”
Sis Warren was standing in a beige on beige dressing room, before a wild eyed and nervous looking Kyp Valentine.
“I heard you, Kyp. You think that Gunnar Leise is an imposter.”
“Fuck that. I don’t think. I know.”
Sis’s mind was racing. Of course Gunnar Leise was an imposter. But how the hell did this old fucker know that?
“We need to call the cops,” Kyp said.
Sis rubbed her forehead as she searched desperately for how to approach this. “Well, to be honest…It sounds a little crazy, Kyp. We can’t go making accusations without-”
“What’s your problem? Why don’t you believe me?”
Sis affected a calm tone. “Okay, look… We’ll deal with this as soon as the show is over. I’m sure I-”
“No, not later. Now.”
She fixed him with a look. “Kyp, the show is about to start.”
He shook his head defiantly. “I’m calling the cops.”
Kyp shuffled over to the coffee table and picked up the receiver on the phone.
“We don’t get a line out here.”
Sis’s heart started pounding in her chest.
He plunked the receiver back down. “Then I’ll use my cell phone.”
Sis felt a bead of sweat fall down from her armpit. She needed Richard’s help and she needed it now. This whole thing was about to go south.
“Okay!” She held her hand up as if to say ‘stop.’ “Look, Kyp…fine. But let me handle it. I’ll go back to the booth and call the police. It’s best if it comes from me because-”
“Call from here.”
“I’ll just call from the booth.”
“No. Now.”
Time to call for backup. She pressed a button on the radio pack hooked on her belt and spoke into her headset. “Gunnar Leise to Kyp Valentine’s dressing room now please.” She looked at Kyp. “Let’s get him in here and we’ll see about all this.”
“Fine with me, honey. But I’m calling the cops.”
Kyp shuffled over to his suit jacket hanging on a chair. He rifled around in it for his cell phone.
Sis eyed him nervously. She and Richard were so close to pulling this thing off and it was all starting to fall apart. She couldn’t let it happen. She couldn’t. Sis reached over and picked up a large blue ceramic lamp on a side table. She yanked the cord out of the wall, took two steps toward Kyp who now had his back to her, lifted the heavy lamp over her head and brought it down hard on his head. It made a sickening cracking sound. Sis wasn’t sure if that was the lamp or Kyp Valentine’s skull.
Kyp fell forward onto his knees and wobbled a bit. But no further. He wasn’t dead.
Instead she heard a hoarse old man whisper came out of Kyp. “You fucking cunt…”
And with that, he actually struggled to get to his feet. As though because Sis was a hated woman it gave him a superhuman strength. He flailed his arms around attempting to get up. The hoarse whisper came out again. “I’ll kill you, you fucking cunt.”
Kyp Valentine shakily lifted one foot up on his way to standing. His voice was getting stronger. And what he said wasn’t pretty. “And after I kill you. I’m going to fuck you in the-”
With that, Sis yanked
the electrical cord out of the lamp, fitted it around her two hands as she’d seen done in the movies, came up behind Kyp, and wrapped it around his neck, yanking his whole body backwards and pulling him up to standing in front of her.
“There you crazy hateful misogynist bastard. How does that feel?”
Kyp flailed his hands up to his neck, gasping and sputtering. Sis could see from the reflection in the dressing room mirror that he was turning bright red. She pulled tighter. And still he wouldn’t die. He even managed to sputter words that sounded remarkably like ‘bitch’ and ‘cunt’ and ‘kill you.’
Just then there was a knock on the door.
“Sis, you wanted to see me?”
Thank God. Richard.
“Come in!”
Richard Blakely opened the door to Kyp Valentine’s dressing room and got quite an eyeful. His lightning reflexes allowed him to slip quickly inside and lock the door behind him.
“Jesus Christ, Sis.” Richard was trying to take it all in . “What the hell’s happening and why does he have an erection?”
“God, no!”
“What the fuck is going on?”
Sis could hardly talk she was expending so much energy strangling America’s favorite old movie star.
“He knows…” she wheezed.
“What does he know?”
“…About you.” She yanked the cord tighter.
“How?”
“I don’t know!”
Fighting for air, Kyp Valentine flung a hand behind his head and grabbed at the side of Sis’s face.
“Richard, for fuck’s sake!” Sis hissed. “Help me already!”
Without missing a beat, Richard grabbed Kyp Valentine violently by the back of the head, took two paces and slammed the man’s face straight down into the nearby glass table holding the food.
When he still wasn’t dead, Richard hoisted him up by his shock of white hair and rammed his snarling face directly into the center of a fluffy looking wheel of brie cheese, holding Kyp’s head down with both hands, smothering him to death in the fussily arranged cheese wheel with Kyp flailing his arms - sending grapes and crackers flying everywhere.
This is Devin Jones Page 7