“Yeah well, Mark should have been less of an annoying prick if he wanted to keep me,” said Dane, “He's lucky I didn't knock out all of his teeth.”
“Dane, can you please stop talking? You're distracting me from my work,” I said. It was true. My hands had begun to shake and I couldn't hold the tape measure in place. I had thought that it would be Chrissy would would unnerve me, but I worked all right when it was just the two of us. I felt like Dane was watching me, waiting for me to slip up. It made me anxious.
He looked at me.
“Are you serious? I'm not even allowed in my own living room now?” he said. He wasn't angry as much as he was mildly irritated. I knew that asking him to leave was a bit much but if I was going to do this to my normal standards, he had to go.
“Oh come on Dane, be a sport. It's hard to concentrate when you're sulking in a corner. Go play video games or something and leave us in peace,” said Chrissy. She spoke to him like a bossy older sister. I was shocked that she was able to get away with it.
Dane drained the last of his beer and shrugged.
“Fine, I'll leave you two alone if that's what you really want,” he said, but he was looking directly at me. “If anyone needs me I'll be upstairs.”
Chrissy giggled when he left the room.
“Jesus, men can be such children sometimes can't they? You think they've outgrown their sulking phase and they go ahead and prove you wrong. It's hilarious,” she said.
I didn't want to linger on the topic of men. Though I liked Chrissy a lot, I didn't quite trust her fully yet. If I said something negative or personal about Dane it might get back to him and he'd boot me out. That was not what I needed right now. I finished her measurements and the two of us sat down for a consultation.
I asked Chrissy questions about what she wanted and scribbled furiously in my notebook as she sipped her tea. A lot of it I knew already from seeing her red carpet pictures in magazines. Her lipstick was always a deep matte wine color and her hair was always in some variation of beachy waves. She didn't do fussy, loud dresses with prissy patterns. Her style was simple elegance with a twist. It suited my own aesthetic perfectly.
I asked her more questions to get my idea straight in my head. She was very helpful and rather knowledgeable about design terms. She certainly knew a hell of a lot more than my previous clients had. Most of these people didn't know the difference between cotton and silk for Christ's sake. Chrissy's knowledge automatically placed her miles ahead of the old clientele. Maybe it wasn't a fair comparison. She had worn more designer gowns in her lifetime than most people could wear in their wildest fantasies. It would be difficult not to pick up a fashion tip or two along the way.
She started by telling me her dislikes. Chrissy hated bare midriffs, tulle and anything that sparkled too much. There were other dislikes, she said, but these three would make any dress into a complete deal breaker for her.
“Right,” I said, “No bare midriffs, no tulle, no sparkles. Got it.” “Great,” she said, “Now we can move onto what I do like.”
When designing a custom piece it was always better to have a client with more likes than dislikes. In the rare occasions since college that I'd gotten to design from scratch, my clients had been persnickety old ladies with mile long lists of what they didn't want. Being left with so few options made things a lot more difficult.
Chrissy turned out to be very open minded. She liked all the fabrics I'd chosen and stroked each one of them appreciatively.
“They're gorgeous. I'm glad you decided to go for something colorful,” she said. All I could do was breathe a sigh of relief. Picking them out had been positively agonizing for me. I'd been so terrified that she'd hate them all so much that she would never want to work with me again. It wasn't likely, but it was a possibility. Celebrities were volatile creatures. It was best to give them what they wanted.
I asked Chrissy to choose which fabric she liked the best. This took longer than expected. She hovered over all of them, debating the pros and cons of each. Finally, just when I was starting to feel like giving up on ever getting an answer, she made a choice. She went with the pink silk. “It's just so beautiful and glamorous,” she said. I nodded in agreement.
“Yeah, it really is.”
That was true, but I felt the knot in my stomach tighten. I was a great designer, there was no doubt about that. My technical skills were out of this world and I had the creativity and imagination to back them up. Of course I could create something beautiful for Chrissy with such special material. Even so, I'd only sewn silk a handful of times. It was expensive and notorious for being difficult to work with. One mistake would be too many if I was going to work with this.
Despite my reservations I forced myself to smile. I'd chosen this fabric, after all. A part of me must have believed that I could do something amazing with it, or I wouldn't have bought it in the first place.
“I can't wait to get started,” I said. Chrissy was thrilled by my fake enthusiasm. So thrilled, in fact that she had to reach forward and pull me into a hug.
“Come here, genius,” she said. “I can't believe I'm lucky enough to get to work with you on this. I'm going to have the gown that stands out the most, all thanks to you!”
I thanked her for the compliment, but the way she worded it only made my stomach knot tighten even more. It would stand out all right. I just hoped that it would be for a good reason.
I drew a few preliminary sketches of the neckline I wanted and she squealed at the sight of them, obviously enthralled by my art skills. I hadn't even gotten to the exciting parts yet but she had already fallen in love. I just hoped that the magazines she would be appearing in would feel the same way.
Eventually it became clear that I needed time to start my work and Chrissy needed time to do whatever it was she had to do in her busy and fulfilling life. She gave me another hug as we parted ways and asked me if Dane was going to say goodbye to her.
“I don't know,” I said, “Let me check.”
I called up the stairs to him. The high ceiling made it so that my voice echoed all across the place. It was spooky.
“Dane!” I yelled, “Dane, Chrissy's going. Do you wanna come say goodbye?”
We waited patiently for a response and for a minute it didn't seem like we were going to get one. However, Dane wasn't quite that cold with us. He wasn't the type to ignore somebody.
“No, I'm fine!” he said. I couldn't say that I was surprised. She'd injured his pride by shooing him away. We both had. It would take a lot to make things up to him, but I would do what I could. Once I wasn't so stressed about the design anyway.
“Never mind,” said Chrissy, “You just tell him I said goodbye.”
“I will,” I said. We said our own goodbyes and I watched her drive off in her fabulous sports car. It was so strange seeing a girl my age living such a fantastic life when I had been struggling so hard to survive. It wasn't that I begrudged her anything. She was talented and she deserved to be recognized for her talents. I guessed for me it was the fact that I was just as talented in my own field and that I was still a complete nobody despite all my hard work and ability. It just wasn't fair how some people seemed to get all the breaks in life and I got none.
Well, I couldn't really say that anymore. Most women would consider being wooed by a sexy movie star and co inhabiting his house with him to be the biggest break a person could get. Not me though. I had bigger fish to fry. My time was now. My talents were going to be seen in all of their glory very soon. Everyone would be so proud of me, I just knew it.
I closed the door after Chrissy and considered getting straight into my work. After all, the premiere was only two weeks away and I had a great deal of things to get done before then. A great deal indeed. Procrastination was the enemy of productivity. By starting right away, I could nip it straight in the bud and ensure that the dress turned out as beautifully as it could. It all made sense to me at the very least.
I'd long ago found that
my rational brain and my emotional brain were not the best of friends. Though I knew I should just get stuck in, I didn't. I instead I padded upstairs to Dane's bedroom. I found him laying on his back, reading a book.
He glanced up at me.
“Oh, it's the superstar designer,” he said with a smirk, “How did things with Chrissy go? She's not so bad, is she? Even with all the bullshit she spews.”
I sat down next to him on the bed that we'd been making love in for the past few weeks. In a split second every tiny scrap of tenderness that he had ever shown me flashed before my eyes. I looked at his face and he looked into mine. There was no denying it, not on my side. I loved him. That was it.
“You're right. She's not so bad,” I said, though my brain was repeating the same three words over and over again. I loved him. I really did love him more than anything in the whole wide world. I'd been trying to avoid thinking it, not to mind saying it out loud for weeks now. It had all been in vain, because I had fallen for him. Now the thought of him not being in my life anymore made me feel like crap.
If this meant nothing to him then I needed to know.
“I told you she wouldn't be this big bitchy diva like you were expecting,” he said triumphantly, “See, I'm always right. Aren't I?”
“I love you,” I blurted out. It was like word vomit that I couldn't hold in any longer. As soon as the words had registered in Dane's mind I saw the blood drain from his face. His mouth opened wide in shock, “Oh shit, no I don't. I'm sorry Dane, just forget I said that.”
“OK,” he said, but that drove me crazy too. I couldn't go on with my life and my day to day interactions as if he didn't know that I loved him. I realized now that I desperately needed him to say it back to me. Even if he was lying. I needed to hear it.
“But I'm in love with you,” I repeated softly. Dane looked at me like he was only truly seeing me for the first time right in this very minute. Who would have thought that a drunken one night stand would lead us here together? Not me. Not Dane either. If he'd known how things would have ended up going he wouldn't have come near me with a ten foot pole. I wouldn't blame him. I was beginning to sound like one of his pathetic groupies now. Only, I wasn't a groupie. I wasn't in love with his movie star image. I was in love with the person he was deep down inside. The person who'd taken me on that rooftop date. The person who'd called me 'Blondie' that first night in the bar. I didn't want to feel this way, but I did. I just wished that there was some chance in this unlucky world that we lived in that he could feel the same way.
He said nothing for a very long time. We just sat on the bed, looking at each other. Things wouldn't be the same now and we both knew it.
Eventually, he pulled me into a tight embrace.
“Shut up Savannah,” he whispered playfully. That was the best I could expect from him.
Dane
I love you. Those three little words were so meaningless out of context. People said 'I love you' all the time. Jesus, some people even said it to their pets before they left for work in the morning and before they went to bed at night. Yet when used at the right time they could turn someone's entire world upside down.
I guess I hadn't been expecting to hear them so soon, though I shouldn't have been surprised. Savannah and I had become like something of an old married couple in the last few weeks. Well, I say that, but I didn't know many old married couples who fucked like we did. The sex was as wild as it ever had been. Only now I stuck with one partner and I cuddled her in the aftermath of it. Maybe the cuddling had been my first mistake.
The first time I did it a thought popped into my head. I was holding her in my arms and nuzzling the soft blonde hair on her head when my mind said 'you're going to fall in love with this girl and there's nothing you can do about it'. As much as I tried, arguing with myself never worked very well for me. No matter what happened I never managed to come out on top.
When Savannah told me she loved me my heart sank. My heart sank deep into my chest because I knew that I loved her too and that I couldn't tell her. Telling her would mean risking everything I'd worked so hard to protect.
What if she decided next week that she didn't love me at all and moved out. She might go back to her old apartment or back to Mark or back to god only knew where. Somewhere without me. Love was so unpredictable. That was why I'd always promised myself not to fall in love with anyone. I'd been an idiot to bend my own rules to suit my selfish needs. Now we would both be hurt.
That night she fell asleep in my arms without knowing that I loved her back.
The next morning I got up early and left her a note telling her that I'd gone to pick up some groceries and that I'd be back by the afternoon. The part about the groceries was a blatant lie. The part about coming back might even be a lie too, I hadn't decided yet. It depended on what Craig had to say.
I didn't call ahead but when I arrived in his office he was alone and playing solitaire on his laptop. He seemed surprised to see me. I didn't blame the guy. I'd never gone out of my way to talk to him in our entire working relationship so far. As far as I could remember, I hadn't even called him before. He was the one who always had to initiate because these business things were like pulling teeth for me.
“Dane, I wasn't expecting you at all,” he said, “Please, sit down.” I took a seat across from him and he closed his laptop.
“Hey Craig. Just called in for a little man to man talk. Does that sound all right?” I said. Craig nodded eagerly.
“Of course that's all right, Dane. I'm your manager. If I'm not here to listen to you then I don't know what on earth I'm here for,” he said, “Though I gotta say, it's a surprise to see you. I've been trying to get through to you forever now. I've had so many offers come through my office that would be perfect for you. In fact, some of them are still open. Maybe if we respond quickly we might get a bite today?”
It was nice of him to try but I really didn't give a shit about movies right now. Acting was something I loved doing more than anything in the world (maybe even more than fucking. Maybe), but being in movies was not. I hated the waiting around, the giant egos and the endless pandering to the presumed stupidity of the audience. Subtly was not encouraged in any of the genre films I's starred in.
“Nah,” I said, “I appreciate the offer but I'm all right. I need to take a little break from movies because they're driving me crazy. No, what I want to talk to you about today is my image.” Craig nodded sagely.
“You're done with that little blonde now, aren't you?” he asked, “You've moved on to greener pastures and all that?”
I thought about whether I should lie or tell the truth in response to this question, though I really didn't know the answer myself. The idea of being finished for good with Savannah, never seeing her again was just insane. I knew I couldn't do that. I couldn't let that happen. Still, I knew that waxing lyrical about how soft her skin felt beneath my fingers or how her eyes shone in the moonlight wouldn't win me the favors with Craig. As far as he was concerned, famous bachelors getting into serious relationships and making them public was a big no no.
“That's not the point. It's not why I'm here. What I want to know is how I can change my image,” I said. Craig looked taken aback. He leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowed in confusion at my statement. He clearly hadn't been expecting it, “What? What's the problem?”
Craig gave his head a quick shake and snapped out of it, forcing a smile on his face.
“No problem. It's just an unusual request. I don't really get clients of your caliber asking how to change their image, unless they've been involved in some kind of sex scandal or said something ignorant about a minority group in an interview. Can I ask why you want to change, by the way? Dane Reynolds is a brand name at this stage. You have a great image to go with it too. You're the man who ever guy wishes they were. The good looking, rich guy who has to fight the ladies off with a stick. Why the hell would you want to change that? It's perfect the way it is,” said Craig. I could see
where he was coming from. Branding was so important for any media figure to pay careful attention to it was what got you big deals and helped your fan base to grow. My own public image was so deeply ingrained into the minds of the film viewers that changing my image would be almost impossible.
“Almost,” Craig assured me, “That doesn't mean totally and utterly impossible. It just means that we have to be creative about it if this is what you really want.”
“It is,” I said.
“Good. But what is it? I mean, what is it that's made you want to change? You're doing really well at the moment. People obviously lap this shit up, and you gotta keep the people happy Dane. Whatever you do, the people need to be happy or they won't buy your shit,” he said, “What do you want to change about your image?”
He looked at me expectantly. I searched for some way to voice my thoughts without being outright rude. When that didn't work I had to give in and explain things in my plain old standard of English. Offensive to him or not, it was the truth.
“I want to be able to have relationships,” I said. Already Craig's eyebrows had gone up so fast that they were hidden by his hairline. That didn't stop me, “I want to have real relationships with real women. I'm not interested in fucking women and leaving them high and dry anymore. I just don't have the energy. I want to be able to have sex with the same girl every night and cuddle up and watch a shitty movie afterwards.”
I should have said 'relationship' rather than 'relationships' as there was only one woman in the world I could see myself doing this with. Savannah was like the Yin to my Yang and though I hadn't managed to get the words out yet, I loved her more than anyone I'd ever met in my life. However, I didn't want Craig to blame Savannah for my sudden change of heart. That wouldn't be fair at all. My feelings were my responsibility and mine alone.
Dane: Hollywood's Finest Page 18