Hidden Gem Short Story Collection (9781301405985) (5 page)

But she’d been shooting. And he’d been
having trouble landing that internship at Klein Sports since he
refused to let his aunt intervene and tell her friend, Aiden Klein,
to let his hiring manager know that the resume titled “Gavin
Hunter” belonged to someone important. Or at least related to
someone important. She knew that the unemployment was wearing on
him. It couldn’t be easy surrounded by so much success. His sister
had begun her foray into fashion with Armand Jadot. His best
friend’s basketball prowess was being featured on SportsCenter
nightly. There was Harper, his step-cousin and friend, who at the
time, had been in talks with investors to open her own raw vegan
restaurant.

And finally, herself. She was shooting what
would likely be her second blockbuster and the schedule didn’t
permit for the best communication with Gavin during a time when
he’d been frustrated, more stressed about his future and prospects
than ever.

I screwed
up
, Zoe realized, gazing over at her
phone.
I should’ve been there for
him
.

She stared for only a second longer before
grabbing it, dialing Gavin’s number before she could convince
herself not to. On speaker, she stared at its screen, her heart
slamming against her chest with every ring. She wanted to hear his
voice again. It’d been awhile. She used to hear it every night
around this hour. More than ever, she wanted to hear his laugh.

But once she heard the beginning of his
voicemail, she hung up.

Okay. That just
happened
. Staring blankly at the wall
above the flatscreen, she caught her breath. She’d been holding it,
apparently.
It’s for the
better
, she told herself, repeating the
line in her head until she fully believed it – that she’d just
dodged a bullet. Whatever words and emotions had just built up in
the back of her throat, it was for the best that Gavin didn’t hear
them. They would do neither of them any good. He was in New York
and she was… wherever she was. L.A for now but Prague soon and then
London.

Breathe
, she told herself, her eyes closed as she felt her heartbeat
begin to regulate.

But just as it did, her phone began to ring.
She jumped, her eyes darting to its screen.

Gavin.

Oh God
. Zoe squeezed her eyes shut, feeling her hands fly up to
cover her mouth. It killed two birds with one stone. If her fingers
were clamped over her lips, they couldn’t pick up the phone. If her
lips were covered, she’d be unable to speak.

After what felt like an eternity, her phone
finally stopped ringing. Frozen, she stared at the screen, waiting,
half praying that he’d leave a voicemail, half praying that he
wouldn’t.

He didn’t.

“
Oh Jesus, Zoe,” she let
herself exhale when it was all over. Her hand unsteady, she reached
to finally pick up her phone. Immediately, it buzzed with a text.
“Omigod,” she squeaked, dropping it.

But it wasn’t Gavin. It was Drew. Chef Drew
from her favorite sushi bar on La Cienaga. Zoe stared for what felt
like a full minute before she let herself open the text.

Sorry about yesterday. I’m
free tonight. Tell me you are, beautiful
.

Zoe chewed her lip, reading and rereading
the text.

Sorry, love. Staying in
tonight
.

She typed the words but
she’d yet to send them. Her finger hovered over the ‘Send’ button.
Her conscience was telling her to just do it but it wasn’t all that
persuasive.
Tyler would be
disappointed
, she told herself, though she
immediately countered her point with the argument that she didn’t
really care what Tyler thought. Or she shouldn’t. If she kept
pigeonholing him as “Gemma’s ex,” she felt better about ignoring
his advice – all the wise words he’d taken the time to share with
her at coffee that morning.

Screw
it
. Holding down the backspace button, Zoe
erased her first draft and composed a new one.

I am, love. Come and get me. Now.

Again, her thumb hovered over the ‘Send’
button. She chewed her lower lip as she remembered all of Tyler’s
arguments. Valid arguments. But with each one, she also thought
about the things she liked best about Drew. He was tall,
dark-haired, tattooed, even. He was a thousand times smarter than
Aaron and had a low, buttery voice. She craved his shoulder rubs as
much as she did his bluefin toro.

Sent. Oh well.

Zoe shrugged. She had made her choice. There
was no point feeling guilty about it. Guilt held people back and
Zoe liked to keep things light, simple, always fun.

It was just a lot easier on her heart that
way.

WHAT (AND WHO) IS NEXT FOR ZOE MERCURY?

February 28

The Durt

Call her the Blockbuster Babe with the
little black book. That’s right, ladies can have little black books
too and Zoe Mercury most definitely does. I mean let’s be honest
here, she might have several because her tally of beautiful suitors
has to be going off the page at this point.

Coming off of a stellar opening weekend,
everyone’s favorite Bond girl has also made headlines for her
post-premiere canoodling with more than one very sexy and eligible
bachelor. Following the L.A premiere of the much-anticipated Bond
sequel, Zoe was spotted in the arms of her rather delicious date,
Chef Drew Kato. And while Zo and Chef were spotted at brunch
together the next morning, the brunette bombshell took to another
lover’s arms by the time of the film’s UK premiere. After taking in
his soccer match at Wembley Stadium, Zoe and Manchester cutie,
Callum Toulson, were photographed having drinks together on
Tabernacle Street.

And who was the gorgeous beast of a manly
man whom Zoe was spotted grabbing a beer with after her Berlin
premiere? You’ll love this one – it was Andro Dzaga, former
bodyguard to Z’s best friend, Gemma Hunter.

Yeah… could we be more
envious of Zoe Mercury’s perfect life? Probably not. Success,
riches and a list of men as the day is long, we’re glad she got her
ass kicked at least a
little
while filming
Bond
because off set, it can’t
possibly be a hard job being this bad gal beauty!

*****

TYLER

The air was thick and smelled sweet in a
strange, unnatural way. It happened backstage sometimes, whenever
the haze machines were on full blast. Tyler would be sure that was
the case if it weren’t for the fact that he had been waking up with
a similar feeling these days. It wasn’t so noticeable that he could
describe it to someone else in the room without sounding insane, so
he kept it to himself, sitting in the blurry world that he had just
about grown used to.

From the greenroom, he could feel the bass
thumping from the stage. He could hear enough of the music to know
that his opening act was just about wrapping up her set. It had
been awhile since he had performed, at least like this. Awhile
since the focus was completely on him and not shared with his
co-stars or director or producer or whatever.

Tyler’s foray into acting
had been so surprisingly successful that he ended up staying for
longer than he intended. Just a year into his acting career and he
was recognized in a way that his singing career could probably
never match. And he hadn’t even won. People treated his single
nomination from the Academy as so much more than the multiple
Grammys he had sitting somewhere at home. Being at the Academy
Awards as a nominee was probably the highlight of his life. But he
could barely remember it. Not with everything that had happened
throughout his little bout with becoming an actor.
Is that what did us in?

And now, he was back in
his old shoes, his old industry, trying to get rid of the nerves he
had thought were thoroughly destroyed from his years as a
performer. That haze helped, kept him moving somewhat on autopilot.
He signed autographs and took pictures with the fans that were
selected from some contest somewhere to do a pre-show meet and
greet. Words came out of his mouth, generic ones. Something about
thanking them for being loyal fans. Something about how he was
excited to return to singing, too. Something about how great of a
state Connecticut was, where the concert was being held. It was a
special, last-minute event his managers had put together, something
to capitalize on all the
new
fame he suddenly had. He wasn’t prepared for it,
but he wasn’t sure any amount of time would have prepared him to
return to the stage. He said goodbye to the fans, following them
out the greenroom and into the dark wings of the stage, watching as
they were ushered away to their seats.

Suddenly, the crowd roared. Tyler was
stunned for a moment that the crowd had managed to drown out the
music blasting over the speakers, only to realize that the music
had stopped. The opening act was over. It was almost his turn. He
looked towards the stage to see the opening artist, Azura, kick off
a single shoe and grab it, walking barefoot towards him and his
team.

“
They fucking took my
shoe!” Azura yelled, holding a single stiletto up to her manager’s
face once she got backstage. “How the hell does security work
around here that some chick takes a shoe of mine and lives to tell
the story?”

“
We’ll get the shoe back,”
her manager said, trying to sound soothing. She pat Azura on the
back, shooting Tyler and his handlers an apologetic look. Azura
stepped away from her manager’s touch, waving the shoe in front of
Tyler’s face.

“
Watch your back out
there, those bitches crazy,” she said. “If this is what they do to
me, imagine what they’d do to the person they’re actually here
for?”

“
I’ve done this a thousand
times,” Tyler laughed. “I’ll be fine.” Azura stared at him, silent
and unblinking before turning her attention back to her
manager.

“
The thing that bugs me is
that the damned security didn’t even
notice
that I got my shoe stolen, do
you know what I mean?” Azura said, trotting barefoot behind her
manager as they made their way to the greenroom. “Like, it’s fine
if you couldn’t do
23
wow
23
g’ about it but they didn’t even
bat an eye.” Tyler cracked a smile as she disappeared around a
corner. Her antics had somehow calmed his nerves, bringing back the
memories of what it was like to be out on stage. And then he was
suddenly surrounded by his own team. Hair and wardrobe prodded and
plucked at him, making last minute adjustments to how he looked. He
glanced over the stylist’s shoulder to see his bodyguard, Mike,
making his way towards the group.

“
Anyone know if Azura is
single?” Mike threw the question out, to no one in particular. And
just as appropriately, no one answered.

“
You interested?” Tyler
laughed.

“
Who isn’t?” Mike scoffed.
Tyler shrugged.
I’m not.

It was the last thought he could have before
feeling himself moved around backstage, guided through a door here,
helped up onto a platform there. And the next thing he knew, he was
back onstage, the first words of his opening song coming out of his
mouth before he even realized it was happening. Tyler stepped
through the thick haze that was now unmistakably one that belonged
to a machine and not a product of his own mind.

And then there was the
crowd, their arms up in the air, their screams all for him. They
surrounded the stage, held back only by freestanding metal barriers
and a handful of guards. Tyler tried to stay focused, but instead,
he wondered who had taken Azura’s shoe and how they were able to
manage it. Still singing, he made his way downstage towards the
peninsula where he could get closer to his fans. Their arms reached
towards him. Tyler was close enough to see the tears, the sheer
excitement on their faces. He smiled, holding his arm out for them,
grazing his fingers against theirs as he walked to the end of the
stage. It was a familiar image, the looks of love and admiration.
They
missed
him
and he could tell. He had missed them too. His heart swelled with a
mutual love and admiration, but even more so, a strong
appreciation. He wanted to shake every last hand, but he couldn’t
quite reach them standing where he was. Tyler inched closer to the
edge of the stage, bending over to touch the hands reaching for
him.

He got down on one knee.

And suddenly, he was dizzy.

The haze felt thicker than before,
surrounding him in a way that made it difficult for him to move. He
was still on autopilot, still singing despite the fact that he knew
he was staying in that single position for much too long. And
suddenly, he was being engulfed by something much more solid than
haze. Tyler gasped, snapping out of it and realizing he was no
longer alone on stage. The metal barriers had been pushed back and
dozens of girls in the front row had pushed past them, pulling
themselves on stage. A pair of strong arms grabbed his waist – he
knew that grip – it was Mike, and he was playing tug of war with
the crowd, trying to pry Tyler out of their grasps.

“
Fucking help me, bro!”
Mike yelled beyond the crowd, directing his voice at the other
security guards. Tyler looked for them, hoping they could get
through to help. But he couldn’t even see them. Not through the
dozens of arms that were reaching for him, not through the dozens
of faces that were teary-eyed and maniacal, desperate for a piece
of him. Tyler couldn’t feel his feet on the ground as Mike dragged
him away. He watched the fans cry so hard that they were shaking,
as if being separated from him was causing them the greatest
despair. One of them held his shoe. Tyler looked down at his socked
left foot. He hadn’t even realized he had lost it.