Hard Glamour

by Maggie Marr

  My heart careened in my chest. There was nothing to work out. Nothing at all. I loved Lane. I wanted to be with her.

  “Call Webber,” Boom Boom said. “I’ll change the ressy for a different night.”

  Lane

  I followed Webber’s assistant into Webber’s office. Pictures of the biggest stars in the film industry, each standing beside Webber, lined the walls. Some of the women had their lips pressed against his cheek. I examined a picture of Webber standing beside Jennifer Lawrence who was holding the Academy Award.

  “Lane, thanks for coming into the office.”

  I spun around. I’d seen Webber a couple of times. He always seemed too slick for words. I somehow felt like less when I was in his presence. He was so put together with his perfect looks, his perfect suit, and his perfect shoes. He was as good-looking as any of the celebrities he represented, but where Dillon had a naturalness to him and openness once you got past the barriers, Webber seemed to have a sharp and callous edge. I wondered if it was possible to get past that with Webber or if this was simply who he was.

  “No problem,” I said.

  He sat in his desk chair. “You enjoying L.A.?”

  I sat in the chair opposite his desk and nodded.

  “I bet,” Webber said.

  I flushed. His words seemed to hold some kind of judgment. Shame cascaded through me.

  Webber’s desk was giant and made of black wood. Nothing but a laptop, one pen, and a water glass decorated the surface. No papers, no files, no scripts, no pictures—nothing. His desk was completely devoid of any other object. I wasn’t sure why that struck me.

  “I feel like I know you,” I said. “Dillon talks about you all the time.”

  “He does?” Webber tilted forward in his chair. “That’s good to know.”

  “He trusts you,” I continued. “He believes in you and what you’re doing for his career.”

  Webber’s eyes widened with interest in what I had to say about Dillon and Dillon’s feelings toward him. “He’s going to be a gigantic star.” Webber leaned back in his chair and settled his feet onto the corner of his desk. “If he plays his cards right.”

  Webber’s assistant walked in, put an envelope on Webber’s desk, and set a bottle of water in front of me.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  She nodded, scurried from the room, and pulled the door shut.

  “I wanted to have you in to thank you for doing such an amazing job for Dillon this summer.”

  Heat burst up my neck and bloomed on my face. Embarrassment trickled through me. Webber knew that Dillon and I had more than a work relationship. I still remembered Webber’s words of wisdom the first time that we met: Don’t sleep with Dillon. Well, I had. I had not only slept with Dillon MacAvoy, but I’d fallen in love with him too. Webber picked up the envelope that his assistant had placed on the edge of the desk.

  Webber’s eyes raked over me and I felt a sick twist in my gut. “This,” he said and nodded at the envelope, “is your bonus for the summer.”

  What was he paying me for? What did he think he was paying me for?

  “As well as the letter from CTA offering you a job in the agent-trainee program after you graduate next spring.”

  “Thank you,” I stammered out. I took the envelope and set it in my lap. I looked down at the white rectangle that lay on my suit skirt, the same suit I’d worn to CTA the first day of this summer. So much had changed between then and now. I was a different person. I wasn’t just a girl from Kansas who knew no one in L.A. and very little about the industry. Now I had friends, a job offer for a future career, a boyfriend… I looked at the picture on the wall of Dillon and Webber. Dillon’s smile was gigantic—he looked as though he was laughing about something Webber had just said. Dillon looked happy. He and Webber, they looked like friends.

  Webber stood and walked around his desk. He rested his long frame on the edge of his desk. His gaze settled on me. His look was stern, serious, as though he had important words to say.

  “Here’s the thing,” Webber said. He crossed his arms over his chest, tilted his chin, and looked at me. “Dillon has a huge opportunity right now.” Webber’s eyes softened. “After this summer, I’m sure you’ve figured out how hard the entertainment business is?”

  I nodded. Breaking into entertainment either on the executive side or the acting side was nearly impossible.

  “We’ve worked so hard… Dillon’s worked so hard to have this moment. This moment where he has a chance. An opportunity to maybe become a big star.”

  Webber stood and walked to the chair next to me. He sat.

  “Lane,” Webber’s voice was softer. “I am sure you are a wonderful girl. I mean, it is obvious that Dillon cares for you. I think he believes that he even loves you and that is beautiful.” Webber leaned back into his chair. “But that’s not what we’re selling, and it’s definitely not what the studios are buying.” He scrubbed his hand over his mouth. “Right now, with Dillon, they are buying an image. An image that is going to create a giant fan base, and that image is the single, bad-boy star who dates the world’s most beautiful women.” Webber’s gaze locked onto mine. “Not a girl from Kansas.”

  The lump in my throat that had started growing when Webber had handed me the envelope was now lodged so firmly in my throat that I could barely breathe. I knew what Webber was said was true.

  “In six months, once Dillon’s opened three films and his fan base is secure and his career is launched, that might be the right time for him to be in love, but now?” Webber shook his head and a grimace scrawled over his face. “Now after all these months of building this image and developing this thing with Kiley. Now would be the worst time. You know her people want the studio to pull the offer for The Legend Returns because of you?”

  My heart floundered in my chest. I closed my eyes for a second.

  “I haven’t told Dillon yet. I haven’t told him because I’m afraid I know what he’ll say.”

  I pulled at my hands. I knew what Dillon would say too. He’d say forget them. I was pretty sure that at this point, Dillon might just jettison his career for me. He might say forget the PR game and the Hollywood scene and everything else and choose me. I looked up at Webber and my eyes were slick with tears.

  “He’ll pick me,” I whispered.

  Webber nodded. “He’ll pick you.”

  The silence weighed heavy in the room. I knew what Dillon wanted, I knew what he’d worked so hard to obtain, I knew why he wanted to feel safe and why he wanted Choo to feel safe. I knew that he was on the cusp of superstardom and he wouldn't get this moment again.

  “You have a job here when you graduate, no matter what you decide.” Webber pressed his fingertips together. “I will say, that in nine months… that might be the perfect time, but not now. If you two happen now, I can’t guarantee him a career or success. Hell, I can’t guarantee him success anyway, but right now, with the track I’ve laid and Boom Boom has laid, I know he has a real shot if he stays on this path. If we can close this next deal with Worldwide and give them what they want as far as a supposed romance between Dillon and Kiley, then he’ll be in a great spot professionally.”

  I ran my fingertips around the edges of the white envelope.

  “He’s in Moab until Thursday,” Webber said.

  I nodded. I knew Dillon was gone until then. I stood. My heart hurt. My eyes were slick with tears. I wouldn’t cry. I couldn’t cry here. I wouldn’t cry in Webber’s office—I didn’t want him to see my pain. I turned and walked out the door.

  *

  I was halfway through Nevada when the texting started. I’d walked the pups, kissed each one good-bye, written a note to Choo, and taken off. My stuff was piled into the back of my Jeep. I knew it was the coward’s way out, I knew that I owed Dillon more than this, I owed Choo more than this, I owed Amanda more than this, but I also knew that if I tried to explain to Dillon why I had to go, why I was leaving, then I would absolutely never go. I couldn�
��t look in his eyes and see the love and the pain and still have the strength to walk out the door. I wasn’t strong enough, I wasn’t big enough, to surrender everything I wanted for the good of his career if he was the one standing there telling me not to leave.

  I pulled off for gas and checked my phone. Text after text from Dillon. Twenty-four missed phone calls. I couldn’t listen to them. I needed more miles between us. I had to get home, I had to get back in school, I needed to be in the reality of my Kansas life, the life I’d lived forever, and not the glamour of L.A. before I spoke to Dillon, before I tried to explain what I’d done and why.

  I closed my eyes. He had to understand. Please let him understand why. Hadn’t he said time and time again to me that his career meant everything to him? That Choo’s future and college meant everything to him? This was his chance, this was his shot. I couldn’t be the reason that all his hard work and planning failed. If we were meant to be, then he would understand what I was doing and why. I knew I couldn’t ask him to wait for me. I knew that his team’s game plan included setting him up with the most beautiful actresses and models in the world. I’d surrendered any hope that in nine months when I returned to L.A., after him dating the most gorgeous women in the world, that Dillon MacAvoy would even remember my name. I’d be a long-ago, faded memory.

  I wandered into the gas station and grabbed a Diet Coke and some Cheetos. I walked to the front of the gas station to pay.

  My eyes roamed the tabs next to counter. My heart jumped in my chest and a thread of ice slithered down my spine. There, on five tabloid covers, was a picture I would never forget. A picture that broke what remained of my heart. I recognized the suit Dillon wore and the girl to which his lips were locked. My heart pounded in my chest.

  I’d been a fool, a complete and utter fool. I lifted the magazine from the rack and my fingertips nearly burned. My eyes watered. I bit my bottom lip. I’d believed Dillon that nothing was going on, that Kiley meant nothing to him, that there was no attraction, nothing but the PR factory spinning wish-filled tales for fantasy-obsessed fans. I was wrong. Dillon had lied. This picture was taken the very night he’d come home and gotten into the bed we shared. The very night he’d touched me and kissed me and I’d begged for him to sleep with me. The night he’d made me scream his name over and over again.

  My bottom lip trembled and I clenched it with my teeth. Anger settled into my chest. I was the stupid little girl from Kansas. I slipped the magazine back into the rack. I didn’t want it. I didn’t want a reminder of Kiley, of Dillon, of how stupid I’d been.

  “Some beautiful babies those two are gonna make,” the woman behind the cash register said. She pushed her smudged eyeglasses up the bridge of her nose. I handed her my money.

  I climbed into my Jeep. I craved the mind-numbing miles ahead of me, hundreds of miles, the sound of rubber slapping pavement killing the thoughts in my head. My entire summer had been a lie. I was simply like every other reader that Dillon MacAvoy had ever had. The words Dillon had said to me were untrue. I’d forced myself to ignore my doubts and I had believed him. My phone rang. I looked down. It was Amanda. The tears streamed down my face and I answered my phone.

  Chapter 25

  Dillon

  I burst through the front door of the house. “Where is she?”

  The pitter-patter of toenails on wood greeted me. My heart pounded, but I gave each dog a quick pet. Fear beat through me, a low thrumming in my veins.

  “She’s gone.” Choo stood in the doorway between the TV room and the foyer. His eyes were narrow and his arms were crossed over his chest.

  “Lane!” I yelled and bounded toward the stairs. I couldn’t believe what my brother had just said. I couldn’t believe it. Panic thundered through my body. I took the steps two at a time, and the pack bounded up the staircase around me.

  “Laney!” I yelled. She had to be here. She couldn’t have left. She wouldn’t have left. I stopped first in the doorway of my room. Nothing. No Lane. I bolted down the hall to her room and threw open the door.

  Stillness hit me. Light pummeled through the windows. The room felt empty and untouched. My belly felt hollow and cold grasped my insides. My eyes darted around the room.

  “No.” My heart started to rip in my chest. “No, no, no.” I walked to the closet and yanked open the door. “No!”

  I stared at the empty shelves, the empty hangers, the empty floor where her battered duffel bag used to be. Hope slid from my body. Any hope that I could explain, that I could catch her, that I could pull Lane into my arms and convince her that this whole thing was a colossal mistake. A huge mistake that I would do anything to fix.

  “She’s not here.” Choo’s voice was heavy with sadness.

  I turned to him. His eyes were slick and his face pale. He hadn’t looked this sad since the day Mom and Dad had tossed him into the street. Choo held a tiny slip of paper in his hand. I walked to him and he held the paper out to me.

  I’m sorry. I had to go.

  Lane

  Pain ripped through my heart.

  “What the hell were you thinking?” Choo whispered. “She was the best thing to ever happen to you. To me. To us. How could you go and mess this up?”

  I ran my hand over my face. “I didn’t, I didn’t—”

  “You kissed Kiley Kepner,” Choo said. “It’s all over the tabs and every other foul place you can imagine. How could you do that? There is no way Lane could possibly stay after that.”

  “It wasn’t what it looks like,” I said.

  “Then what the hell was it, because I have to say it looks pretty bad.”

  “When did she leave? Where did she go? Have you heard from her?”

  Choo shook his head no. “I got home yesterday and the note was here. She must have taken off while I was at the agency.”

  I dashed toward the door. I had to find her. I needed her. I had to explain and she had to listen.

  *

  “You are a complete dumb ass.”

  I deserved that comment. I deserved that and more. Amanda leaned back into the lounge chair next to the pool and took a long, slow sip of her water. She set it on the table in front of her.

  “Please, I know you’ve spoken to her—she won’t answer my calls, she won’t respond to my texts, she won’t—”

  “That’s right,” Amanda said. “Because she doesn’t want to talk to you right now. She doesn’t want to see you. She wants to be alone.”

  I paced along the edge of the pool. I scrubbed my hand along my face. “I need to explain what happened, how that happened. I didn’t… it wasn’t… fuck!” I balled my hands into fists. The muscle in my jaw clenched as my teeth ground. “It wasn’t what it looks like.”

  “Right,” Amanda said. She crossed her legs and glared at me through slitted eyes. “It looks bad.”

  I closed my eyes.

  “More press for you,” Amanda said. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

  Air whooshed from my lungs. What I had wanted. I tilted my head toward the ground. I stared at the slate tiles on Amanda’s patio. What had I wanted before Lane? I couldn’t remember. I could barely remember life before meeting Lane, before being loved by Lane, actually living before Lane.

  “Yeah,” I whispered. “I guess it was what I wanted.” I lifted my head and looked at Amanda. “What everyone wanted, but that, that moment, that picture it wasn’t… it’s not real.”

  Amanda raised her eyebrow. “Are you trying to tell me that the photo is fake? That it isn’t you with your lips planted against Kiley’s lips the night of the premiere?”

  “No, that’s not what—”

  “Then what are you saying Dillon?”

  “What I’m saying is that Kiley kissed me! That she came in fast, that I jerked away, that it had to be a setup—I didn’t know anyone was there, I wasn’t into it, I didn’t want it and—”

  “And that’s why you didn’t tell Lane about it?”

  My heart stopped beating. The blood d
rained from my face and a tingling scrummed over my fingertips. I dropped into the chair beside Amanda. I couldn’t breathe and my stomach clenched.

  “You remember that night? How you stayed out until five a.m.? How you came home to Lane? How you… well I’m just guessing on the rest. But you didn’t tell Lane that Kiley kissed you.” She tilted her head to the side. Her tone said all that I already knew: I was an idiot. A complete moron. “You failed to mention this kiss that meant nothing.”

  “Because it meant nothing.”

  “Right,” Amanda said. “While I might believe you, and Lane might even choose to believe you, can you see how these pictures, the humiliation of seeing the man you are sleeping with on the cover of every tabloid magazine, kissing a huge celebrity, might be enough to cause a girl to run?”

  “What am I going to do? I have to find her, I have to go get her, I have—”

  “You have to leave her alone,” Amanda said.

  I shook my head no. “Amanda, I can’t I can’t just let her run away and not tell her and not try to explain and not let her know that I… that I love her.”

  “She knows,” Amanda said. “That’s the saddest part. She knows, and she loves you too. But Dillon, I’m telling you that right now she does not want to see you. You have got to give her some time and some space to work through this. She thinks she’s doing something noble for you. She believes all that shit about your brand and you launching your career and how important this moment is for you. She really believes that if you don’t go through with this charade with Kiley that you are going to lose your opportunity for success. Lane doesn’t want to be the reason why you don’t get your shot.”

  “But she’s not, she won’t be, she can’t… I can’t—”

  “Really? You really believe that? That Kiley is going to just let some no-name little girl from Kansas swoop in and steal the limelight from her? That won’t happen, not in a million years, and especially when she’s sleeping with my father.”