Hearts' Desires

The late summer time smog already hung hea
vily over dow
n
town Los Angeles.
Alison looked out of the cab window, wai
t
ing for the familiar sign of ‘Diamond-Star-Entertainment’ to finally to show up. Of course, she knew she would only see it at the next traffic light – but she tried to reduce the time by looking out for it none the less. She was late. She hated being late, especially in the morning when ever
y
thing should still be at least somewhat in order. Nervously, she ran her fingers through her blond hair, checking in the cab’s mirror to see if there was by chance any grey her stylist had missed.
             
“Can’t you drive a bit faster?!”
             
“No, Ma’am sorry.”

             
He was from India or somewhere around there, and spoke with a heavy accent, a thing that stressed Alison even further. He
a
vens, how she needed a rest! If this production only were over! However, it had just begun…
             
Finally. The cab arrived, after what felt like an hour of stop-and-go driving through the crowded streets of Los A
n
geles. Alison paid, grabbed her suitcase and nearly stumbled, when she hurried out of the car. She suppressed a curse. It did not look good if wo
m
en in a grey business outfit acted very un-business-like! And these disgusting paparazzi crouched behind every palm tree and corner around here! She rushed on,
looked
at her watch, and collided with a young mother and her wailing toddler. Children! No – she wouldn’t go as far as to say she hated children – at least not co
m
pletely, not as long as they stayed in a reasonable distance from her!
             
“Excuse me!”
             
“Hey,
watch where you’re going
!” The mother of the screaming siren ranted.
             
“
I
said
I
am sorry!
”

             
Without listening to the still complaining young mother, she v
a
nished into the building, managed a relatively charming “Good Morning” to the staff, and escaped into the elevator. What a day! It seemed like a bad start for the project
that
should be the crowning moment of her career. Somehow she wished the elevator ride
would
take a bit longer
and give her more time to breathe. But no miracle happened. As usual,
20
seconds later, the doors slid open, and she had reached her floor.
             
“Morning, Mrs. Cartwright! Did you have a nice-“
             
Alison stopped the young man,
Marek
, one of the public relation guys, before he could finish. She had no nice wha
t
soever – and she had no time!
             
“Morning.
Sorry. I got stuck in a damned traffic jam... Did the airport call
yet?
?”

             
She opened the office door and realized with a
bit of
relief that
Marek
had left her alone. Nonetheless, a longer break was obviously
not
going to happen; the phone rang. Still standing, Alison grabbed the receiver, while browsing through the papers and le
t
ters waiting for her attention. The airport, finally, amazing!
             
“ ...
yes, Alison Cartwright. Yes, the lady
whose
ticket was lost!” She looked to the ceiling and suppressed a sigh. “No, I don’t need a refund! I need a replacement! For tonight! ... No, I don’t care what the price is! I don’t want to be placed on a waiting list!”
             

             
The dumbest people ever must work at airports
, she thought, accidentally pushing the little Buddha-statue standing there over the edge of the desk. It shattered into pieces on the marble floor. She huffed.
             
“…I want a new ticket! ...
Yes, STILL Los Angeles to Cape Town!”
             
“
Mrs. Cartwright, excuse me...”
Marek’s
voice in her back
made
Alison
whirl
around. Why did he have to sneak in like that?!? Ah… okay, she had left the door open. She covered the phone with one hand. “What is it?”
             
“I have “US Weekly'” on the phon
e.
Because of the inte
r
view!”
             
“Wait a minute!” She turned her attention back to the ‘first-grader’ in the airport service. “Well, you’ll see to it that I’ll have this ticket when I arrive at the airport! If something goes wrong, you’ll be talking to my lawyer!”
             
She hung up and stared at
Marek
exhausted. “What did you say? “
US Weekly”?
             
“You remember, the interview about ‘Do you believe in true love’...”

             
“Did I already confirm the date?” she asked back. “No? Well, cancel the whole thing. I’m out of the country for a few weeks, a
n
yway. And I don’t give telephone interviews. – And please, close the door. Thank you….”
             
She let herself drop in the office chair and stretched her legs. Her right foot ached. Well, as long as she could walk! Luckily, she was not the leading actress but the director of the movie! Her gaze wandered over the posters at the opposite wall, celebrating her previous triumphs in the romantic genre. Funny, she mused. How many people thought she would be romantic because she made such films! They
obviously
could not separate reality from fiction!

             
A romantic! Alison Cartwright felt too strained to laugh at the moment. Her attempt ended in a faint snort. She cons
i
dered herself one of the most unromantic people on the pl
a
net. This was all about business.
Money.
A sort of social ca
l
culation.
People wanted to see stuff like that in the movies
and on TV – and she gave it to them. She knew which strings to play and how particular scenes in a script had to be ha
n
dled so they were clouded in that sweet mist of romance on the screen. Usually there was a woman and a man (or a woman in between two men or vice versa), and some tragic events helping them to realize what they really wanted in life.

             
Alison’s eyes focused on the last of the posters, designed for the project she just worked on.
“Hearts’ Desires”.
It showed a young white girl and a colored African boy in front of a gorgeous landscape with a broad acacia tree. O yes,
hearts’ desires!
The ti
m
ing for this project was bad
.
E
veryone
knew that
their biggest competitor
was about to launch a
movie that was expected to be a blockbuster
only
a few
days later.
The
cast
as well
was far from the one she had desired! The female lead had a skiing accident in Swi
t
zerland and thus was not available anymore. Now she had to be content with a totally unknown young actress named Lauren Bastian! The fact alone that the girl had been
given
such rave reviews
by her casting supervisor made her suspicious! And the male lead had turned down her offer. Now she was stuck with this Van Sorel, a B-list actor who had
excelled in trashy action films
for the most part
. Besides that he was infamous for a fight with international star Robert
Harker
on set - an incident which was headlined in every tabloid through
out the country some years ago.
Alison snorted again and file
d through the mail on her desk.