Chasing Dreams

by Susan Lewis

  ‘I did see him,’ Matty reminded her. ‘You had pictures of him all over this place before you went, so it beats me why you’re so suprised you fancied him.’

  ‘It went deeper than fancy,’ Ellen said.

  Matty’s eyebrows rose.

  ‘Don’t mock me,’ Ellen complained. ‘You don’t know how it feels to want someone that much and have him reject you.’

  ‘There’ll be a reason,’ Matty assured her.

  ‘Sure there’s a reason, he didn’t fancy me,’ Ellen retorted.

  ‘No? So why did he hold your hand and tell you there was nothing he wanted more than to make love to you?’

  ‘“But”,’ Ellen reminded her. ‘He added a but, which means he was probably only being polite because he could see I was on fire for him and he had to find some way of putting me out.’

  Matty laughed. ‘Well he wasn’t very successful, was he?’ she commented.

  Ellen threw her a look, then, making an attempt on her meal she said, ‘I wonder what he’d do if I called up and said I wanted to take the job?’

  Matty’s eyes flew open. ‘Why, are you thinking about it?’ she said.

  Ellen shook her head. ‘No, but I can fantasize, can’t I?’

  ‘Oh my God,’ Matty murmured.

  Ellen looked at her in surprise. ‘What is it?’ she said.

  ‘You’re going to London,’ Matty stated. ‘I can tell. You’re working yourself up to leaving the States and going to London.’

  ‘I am not,’ Ellen laughed. ‘I told you, it’s just a fantasy.’

  ‘“Nothing happens unless first a dream”,’ Matty quoted.

  Ellen was sobered by that for a moment, but then, picking up her glass she stared down at the wine and began shaking her head. ‘I could never leave the States,’ she said. ‘It would break my parents’ hearts. And I’d miss you too much and all my friends and besides, I want to be a producer not an agent.’

  ‘Couldn’t you do that with him?’

  Ellen scoffed. ‘In England? You’re kidding. Their entire film industry makes an independent here look bigger than Disney.’

  ‘Exactly,’ Matty said, not even trying to hide her relief. ‘You belong here, not in London. So what you’ve got to do is precisely what Ted Forgon told you and work on how you’re going to get him to Hollywood.’

  Matty’s words were still echoing in Ellen’s ears when the following evening she sat staring down at that week’s Enquirer. The headline read: ANOTHER NEW LOVE FOR CLAY? And the picture underneath was one of her, standing in an upstairs window at Clay’s mansion wearing nothing more than the ‘oops!’ the Enquirer had cleverly angled to cover her breasts and pubic hair. The shot was so badly focused that unless anyone already knew, it was impossible to tell it was her. But she knew, because Forgon had sent an E-mail to tell her that this was a warning not to doubt his word again.

  ‘And if you’re right,’ his message had gone on to say, ‘about everyone laughing at me out there, then I’m counting on you to go wipe the smile off their faces before the one on yours gets any clearer.’

  ‘Oh Christ,’ Matty murmured, clicking off Ellen’s lap-top and going to sit at the dining-table with her. ‘I swear I never thought he’d do it.’

  ‘It’s OK,’ Ellen said. ‘It’s not your fault and to tell the truth I didn’t really think he would either.’

  ‘So what are you going to do now?’ Matty asked after a pause.

  Ellen shrugged. ‘I’ve already put in a call to Michael McCann,’ she said. ‘His secretary tells me he’s in France for a few days. Don’t ask me if she’s lying, because I don’t have the faintest idea. She told me to call back at the end of the week if I haven’t already heard from him.’

  ‘Well that sounds quite positive,’ Matty responded. ‘In fact,’ she added as the phone started to ring, ‘that could be him now.’

  Ellen laughed. ‘It’s four in the morning in France,’ she said, walking over to the phone. ‘Hello, this is Ellen Shelby,’ she said into the receiver.

  ‘Bitch!’ a voice spat down the line.

  Ellen started and looked at the phone.

  ‘What is it?’ Matty said, getting up as she saw Ellen’s face pale.

  ‘Are you there, bitch!’ the voice demanded.

  ‘Who is this?’ Ellen stammered, her blood turning cold, for she was fairly certain she already knew.

  ‘You know who it is,’ Clay seethed, ‘so quit the playacting and tell me what the fuck all this is about in the paper?’

  ‘Listen, I didn’t know …’

  ‘If this is your sick way of trying to bust up me and Karen,’ he cut in, ‘then you can forget it, right? We got something good going here and I’m not about to let you fuck it up by putting yourself out there like you’re someone new in my life when all you are is fucking history. I don’t know how you got that shot and I don’t care, but if you got plans for any more to show up then I’m warning you now, I’ll be coming after you,’ and the line went dead.

  Ellen’s eyes were stricken as she turned them to Matty and replaced the receiver. ‘I don’t believe it,’ she murmured. ‘I don’t believe what I just heard.’

  ‘I take it that was Clay,’ Matty said.

  Ellen nodded as outrage along with a misguided hurt that he would protect Karen that way started to knot inside her. ‘He’s threatening to come after me if any more shots find their way into the papers,’ she said, shaking her head in disbelief.

  ‘You mean he thinks you were responsible?’ Matty cried.

  ‘That’s what he said,’ Ellen replied and covering her face with her hands, she pushed her fingers hard back into her hair. ‘This nightmare just goes on and on,’ she said. ‘First Forgon, now Clay. When is it ever going to end?’

  ‘I wish I knew,’ Matty answered, ‘but what I do know is, the only person who can get you out of it is Michael McCann.’

  Chapter 15

  ‘OK! AAAAND, ACTION!’

  The First Assistant’s arm swung down and as the camera started to track slowly along the street the strategically positioned extras began shopping or skateboarding or whatever else they had been directed to do. An instant later the two stars of the movie burst from a shop doorway, collided with a pair of stunt men, knocking one into the path of a speeding taxi, then raced on down the street. The whole thing took no more than a minute and as the director yelled cut everyone stopped where they were and waited to hear whether they were going again or moving on to the next shot.

  Sandy and Nesta were standing at the edge of the set, behind the producers’ and director’s monitors, so were able to get a good look at the action, live as well as on screen. They hadn’t been there long, but Nesta was already amazed by the way the cast and crew seemed to be making some sense out of the chaos. Between takes, jokes and insults were bandied about as freely as the coffees and cold drinks, and every time the camera stopped a clutch of make-up artists and dressers, grouped outside the costume trailers, took up their gossip where they’d left off.

  Carl Roman, the lead actor who was making his big-screen début with this movie, was every bit as gorgeous in the flesh as he was in the BBC series that had made him famous. Starring with him was Libby Sherwood, one of Zelda’s recent signings who had appeared in several successful features before. Nesta watched them as they strolled back down the street towards the director and wanted to pinch herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming.

  ‘This is unbelievable,’ she whispered to Sandy, her eyes riveted to Roman.

  Receiving no reply, she turned to find Sandy in conversation with one of the producers and a friendly-looking woman dressed entirely in leather. To Nesta’s surprise, Sandy seemed to be doing most of the talking while the others listened, nodded or shook their heads and genuinely appeared to be taking note of what she was saying. Nesta moved in closer to eavesdrop and blinked as she heard Sandy say, ‘… so I’m afraid there’s just no way we can allow her to do that. It wasn’t mentioned in the original script and
even if she’s prepared to do it I still can’t give the go-ahead under the terms we negotiated.’

  The producer glanced at the woman in leather, then said to Sandy, ‘We’re hoping to get the shot in the can today.’

  ‘So let’s talk,’ Sandy said.

  They appeared about to move off when someone called across the street, ‘Hey! Sandy!’

  Nesta turned and her mouth almost fell open when she saw Carl Roman heading their way. Sandy had told her that it was Roman himself who had issued the invitation to the set, but until now she hadn’t really believed it. Harder still to credit was the way Sandy greeted him, as though he were any old friend she’d just happened to run into.

  ‘Hi,’ she said, going up on tiptoe to return Carl’s embrace. ‘How’s it going?’

  ‘Pretty good,’ he answered, ‘or so I’m told. I just heard we’re going in for close-ups so we’ve got time for a chat while they move the lights. Christ, it’s hot out here,’ he said, grabbing a glass of iced water from the tray a runner was passing with. ‘Did you speak to Len Holton?’ he said to Sandy. ‘The guy who wrote the book we talked about?’

  Sandy nodded. ‘I called him yesterday. The rights are still available, so Craig’s going to talk to his agent. I didn’t mention anything about you, or the price will automatically skyrocket. By the way, you and Libby have invited Michael to dinner tonight, OK?’

  Roman frowned. ‘Have we?’

  ‘Yes,’ Sandy told him firmly. ‘I left a message with Jodi earlier to tell him.’

  Roman’s eyes started to dance as he broke into a grin, but before he could say any more Sandy caught sight of Nesta and said, ‘Listen, I need to sort something out with the producer. Can I introduce you to my friend Nesta Haines? She’s a really big fan.’

  Nesta threw Sandy a daggered look and blushed to the roots of her hair as Roman turned his famously sultry eyes in her direction and held out his hand. ‘Hi, pleased to meet you Nesta,’ he smiled.

  ‘Pleased to meet you,’ she replied faintly.

  He appeared about to say more when to her combined relief and frustration his PA came running over with a mobile phone for him to take a call.

  As he walked away Nesta looked around and saw Sandy standing apart from the mêlée, obviously discussing terms with the producer, while the director and the rest of the crew got things ready for the next shot.

  They were at a quaint little shopping area somewhere in Wiltshire, with crowds gathering either end of the street, hoping to get a glimpse of Carl Roman and Libby Sherwood. Nesta was just loving being on the inside, even if she was only a visitor, and was beginning to understand now why Sandy was so taken with her job. It must feel really good having people like Carl Roman treat her like she was someone and be able to tell a producer what he could and couldn’t do. In fact, if the truth be told, it was blowing Nesta’s mind finding out what clout Sandy had and the way she handled it, with such confidence and efficiency, was forcing Nesta to see her with new eyes.

  ‘Are you OK?’ Sandy said, coming to join her again, a mobile phone pressed to her ear while an anxious-looking producer went in search of the director.

  Nesta nodded. ‘This is great,’ she answered, unaware of how lovely and fresh she looked without her night-time make-up and costly designer clothes. In fact, she was dressed much like Sandy in faded denim jeans and sneakers, though whereas Sandy was wearing just a plain white T-shirt on top, Nesta had chosen a body-hugging number with a lace up-front and underwire cups. It had already earned her several appreciative glances from some of the crew, but as a couple of other women around the unit were dressed much the same way she didn’t feel she was letting Sandy down. ‘But did you have to tell Carl Roman I was such a big fan?’ she hissed.

  Sandy laughed and failing to make the connection, dialled the number again. ‘Feed an actor’s ego,’ she said, ‘it’s the easy route to an easy life.’ She winked. ‘And who knows, maybe an easy lay.’

  ‘Don’t,’ Nesta gasped, using a hand to fan herself. ‘Anyway, I thought you said he was gay.’

  ‘He is, but no one’s supposed to know, so keep it under your hat. What do you think of the DOP? I saw him looking at you earlier.’

  ‘DOP?’ Nesta frowned.

  ‘Director of Photography,’ Sandy explained. ‘The one in the red shirt and black shorts.’

  Nesta looked over at the rank of shops opposite where the DOP was just emerging from the tailor’s, a couple of riggers and his operator in tow. ‘Oh him,’ she said. ‘He’s OK.’

  Sandy laughed, for she had seen the way Nesta had responded to Dick earlier and unless she was mistaken Nesta had actually blushed. ‘Different being a woman to being an escort, isn’t it?’ she said.

  Nesta’s eyes narrowed, letting her know she wasn’t going to get into that. ‘What are you doing now?’ she asked. ‘Who are you calling?’

  Sandy glanced back over her shoulder. ‘Sssh,’ she said, putting a finger to her lips. ‘I told the producer I had to check some details on Sophie’s contract, but I’m actually calling my boss, Diana, to make sure the increase the producer’s just offered for Sophie to do her own stunt is acceptable.’

  Nesta screwed up her nose. ‘Why don’t you want the producer to know you’re calling Diana?’ she asked.

  ‘Because it would weaken my position,’ Sandy answered. ‘He has to think I can take the decision myself or he won’t treat me with the same respect.’

  Nesta was impressed. ‘You’ve really got this sussed, haven’t you?’ she remarked.

  ‘Damn!’ Sandy muttered as she got cut off again. She redialled, then, laughing she said, ‘All I do is watch what the other agents do and copy it. And believe me, it’s amazing the way people respond if you behave like you’re the one in charge. No one wants to deal with the monkey, so you act like the organ-grinder and everyone’s happy. Hi, Jodi?’ she said into the phone. ‘It’s Sandy. Is Diana there?’

  Nesta waited as Sandy was put on to her boss, then relayed the new deal she had just struck. She received an immediate go-ahead and asked to speak to Jodi again.

  ‘Jodi, did you give Michael the message about dinner with Carl and Libby tonight?’ she said, pushing a finger into her other ear as a nearby walkie-talkie squawked into life. ‘What did he say?’ she asked, glancing at Nesta and crossing her fingers. She listened for a moment, then her face fell. ‘Well, is he going to call me?’ she said. ‘I mean, I have to give Carl and Libby an answer.’ She paused, then, taking a breath she said, ‘OK. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

  ‘So what’s happening?’ Nesta asked as she put the phone back in her shoulder bag and dug around for her sun-glasses. ‘Is he coming?’

  Sandy shook her head. ‘I don’t know,’ she responded. ‘Jodi gave him the message, but he didn’t say anything.’ She shrugged. ‘He only got back from France last night so maybe it’s a bit soon to be … Oh hi, Sophie,’ she said, as the leather woman came up behind Nesta. ‘I spoke to the contracts department and everything’s in order. I just need to get the increase in writing, then you’ll be free to go and leap from a window on to a passing lorry.’

  Laughing, Sophie said, ‘I’ve done it a hundred times before, but never for this much loot. You’re a genius, Sandy. Diana’s got a real gem in you. We all have and Phillip’s right, you should think about setting up your own list.’ As she spoke she was wiping the perspiration from her face and Nesta looked at her, not even wanting to think about how hot she must be in all that kinky gear. ‘Was that me?’ she said, turning to see who had shouted her name.

  ‘I think so,’ Sandy answered, looking across to where the First Assistant was waving for Sophie to come and join the director and continuity girl.

  ‘Who’s Phillip?’ Nesta asked as Sophie ran across the street.

  ‘Phillip Waring, the writer,’ Sandy answered. ‘He’s one of Craig’s.’

  ‘Blimey, is there anyone here who isn’t part of McCann’s?’ Nesta laughed.

  Sandy rolled her eyes. ‘
I told you, it’s a project Michael got involved in personally because he knows the executive producer,’ she said, ‘so we’ve supplied the writer, director, two line producers, both stars and a handful of support cast. If you remember, that’s why we thought he’d come down here for dinner tonight. And stay over,’ she added glumly.

  Nesta’s lips flattened as she looked at her. ‘He might still come,’ she said. ‘I mean, he hasn’t said no, has he?’

  ‘He hasn’t called either,’ Sandy reminded her.

  ‘But he will if he thinks Carl Roman and Libby Sherwood have invited him.’

  Sandy immediately brightened. ‘You’re right,’ she said, feeling the anticipation coast through her heart, ‘there’s no way he’ll ignore them and you’re brilliant for coming up with the idea in the first place.’

  Nesta laughed. ‘Well I had to come up with something,’ she responded, ‘and since this particular situation includes a night in a hotel I think I can safely say I’ve surpassed myself.’