I Heart Hollywood (25 page)

‘Angela, please, if you say anything to your editor they’ll out me.’

‘I really don’t give a shit.’

‘Please Angela,’ he whined. ‘It’s everything. Everything I’ve ever worked for. Please don’t do it.’

‘It’s not my problem, James.’ No time to be weak now. So what if I outed him? And destroyed his career? And ruined his life? Meh. ‘I’ve got my own concerns. I’m going to have to make my money somehow given that you’ve probably cost me my job.’

‘Come off it, you’re not a kiss-and-tell girl,’ James stammered. ‘Just come and meet me. Please? We’ll meet anywhere you like. We’ll work out how to save your job and everything, but please just don’t say anything to the magazine. Not yet.’

I should have just hung up. I should have direct-dialled the
News of the World
and told them to get the La Senza matching set out. But I didn’t. ‘Where?’

‘Definitely not the hotel?’

‘Definitely not the hotel. The opposite of a hotel. As far away from a bed as humanly possible. The most public place on earth would be preferable.’

‘Disneyland?’

‘You’re not kidding, are you?’ I realized I was holding my empty smoothie glass against the edge of the table at a dangerously smash-and-slash angle. And the couple sitting next to me were looking awfully nervous. ‘No, I don’t think The Magic Kingdom is going to be able to sort this, James.’

‘It is the happiest place on earth.’ I could hear a hint of a smile in his voice. How dare he think he was off the hook with this?

‘And I would hate to get blood on those character costumes. I bet they’re a bitch to get dry cleaned.’

‘Right, OK,’ he said, considerably less pleased with himself. ‘You’re on Melrose? And you want to meet somewhere without any even vaguely sexual connotations. Where are you exactly? I’m sending a car.’

‘Fred Segal.’ I placed the glass back on the table and put my hands in my lap, offering an ‘I’m not crazy, honest’ smile to the people beside me, but they were too busy tapping away on their BlackBerrys and Sidekicks to acknowledge my sanity.

‘Because that’s the place to keep a low profile,’ he said. ‘Bumped into Paris yet?’

‘Do you want me to come or not?’ I snapped. Seriously, how come no one looked over when I was trying to be nice but as soon as I raised my voice, I had everyone’s undivided attention? ‘And there’s no way it’s just me and you. Blake comes too.’

‘Oh, Angela, I don’t think so,’ James said quickly. ‘He’s really not in a very good mood.’

‘And he’ll be in a better mood if I out the pair of you?’

Silence.

Sighing.

‘Fine. Just stay there and I’ll send the car.’

Hanging up, I pulled out my make-up bag. Wherever James went, so went the paps. Things were already bad enough without my under-eye circles making the news. I stared at myself in the mirror of my powder compact. How bizarre was this? How did I manage to go from not being able to get served in the Slug and Lettuce in Wimbledon without shouting at a barmaid, to having to worry about whether or not I was going to end up on the gossip page of some tabloid with big red circles drawn all over my many, many imperfections? All I wanted was to crawl into bed and not come back out until all this had gone away. Maybe I’d come out for Christmas dinner but then I’d be going right back in.

Bags banished and blusher blended, I took a deep breath. Time to bite the bullet.

‘Mary Stein’s office.’

‘Hi Cici,’ I said bravely. ‘Is Mary about?’

‘Oh, Angela,’ Cici managed to stretch out my name to last about three minutes. She must have been loving this. ‘I’m not sure she’s gonna be able to speak to you right now. She’s on a conference call with the publisher. You know, because of you.’

‘Right, well, it’s really important,’ I said through gritted teeth. This bit was even worse than actually talking to Mary. ‘Can you try and put me through?’

‘Uh-huh.’ The glee in her voice was unbearable. ‘But if she can’t talk to you right now, I can fill you in on what I’ve heard so far. You know, about you.’

‘Appreciated. Can you please just try and put me through?’

The hold music kicked in for what felt like forever.

‘Well?’

‘Oh, Mary,’ I was a little bit surprised. Mainly because I didn’t think Cici was even going to try and put me through, since she clearly really wanted to tell me all the lovely things that were being said about me in the office. ‘Hi.’

‘No, not hi, well?’ Mary sounded livid. Even though I couldn’t see her, I knew I’d got her full attention, which wasn’t ever a good thing. Mary was much less frightening if she was clicking away on her giant Mac while she was talking to you. ‘You realize you have fucked up on a massive, massive scale?’

‘Mary, please just let me get this out. I know it looks bad—’ I started.

‘Looks bad?’ she interrupted before I’d even finished my first sentence. ‘It is bad. You’re absolutely over.’

‘Mary, please,’ There wasn’t enough blusher in the world to put the colour back in my cheeks. ‘Let me finish. I know exactly what it looks like, but it isn’t. There’s nothing going on with James. And seriously, I have the best interview. I’m sure once you get my copy…once everyone sees my copy, they’re going to love it. And James is going to do the photo shoot. It can be saved, can’t it?’

‘Angela, I think the sun has fried your brain. Do you really think the magazine wants to publish your interview right now? You’re splashed all over the internet as a two-timing star-fucker. We’d get more readers for an interview with your ex right now.’

‘Jesus, will everyone stop saying he’s my ex?’ I groaned. ‘I haven’t bloody done anything.’

‘Unless you’re gonna take an internal exam live on TV to prove you’re still a virgin, I don’t think anyone’s going to believe that,’ Mary replied. ‘Or maybe you could do it on the radio. I’m pretty sure they did that on the
Howard Stern Show
once.’

‘Mary, honestly, you work in the media. How can you believe the internet over me?’ I was determined not to cry. Not here.

‘I learned not to believe everything I read a long time ago.’ Mary relented slightly. ‘But it doesn’t matter what I believe. People don’t care about what’s true and what isn’t; they care about being entertained, they care about who has the best story. And your interview with James isn’t the best story any more. You are.’

‘I’m not a story,’ I said quietly. ‘I’m just me.’

‘Well, I’m telling you what the publisher told me,’ she went on. ‘So don’t flip out on me. It’s like this. The blog is suspended for a couple of days. We’re not taking it down; we just need to decide what direction we’re going in.’

‘I don’t understand, direction?’ I wasn’t quick on the uptake at the best of times. ‘It’s just my blog. My diary.’

‘It is right now,’ Mary agreed. ‘But there’s been a massive spike in traffic since yesterday, and obviously the new readers want all the details about you and James. But the publishers don’t want to give that away for free online.’

‘And there aren’t any details for them,’ I said.

‘OK, Pollyanna, have you finished?’ She didn’t wait for a response. ‘The publishers want your exclusive story—either you and James or just you in next week’s issue of
Icon
—and then they want to change the direction of the blog to fit your new…status.’

‘But Mary, it’s not like that.’ This wasn’t happening.

‘This is the best offer you’re going to get, Angela,’ Mary said. ‘If you don’t play it their way, you’re out.’

‘What am I supposed to do? It’s not true. And what about Alex? I have to sort things out with him, Mary, and there’s no hope in hell of that if I’m mincing around in a magazine declaring my love for James.’

‘How are you going to sort things out with him from the UK?’ Mary asked. ‘Because if you lose your job here, you know you lose your visa.’

‘You’re blackmailing me?’

‘Angela, honey,’ Mary sighed. ‘This isn’t a game. If you say you’re not with James, I believe you, but this has happened now. It’s not about the truth, it’s not about you; right now it’s about what sells magazines. An interview with you and James in
Icon
will sell more magazines than an interview with James in
The Look
. And a blog about you as a celebrity’s girlfriend will be more popular than a blog about your life in New York. You’re not stupid, you must be able to understand that.’

I paused. It was everything I could do not to be sick on the spot. Maybe losing my visa was the best option. I could just go home. Pretend none of this had ever happened.

Unless I had another story. One that was far more interesting and a whole lot more exclusive.

‘Mary, I can prove that I’m not sleeping with James,’ I started slowly. ‘But I can’t tell you why just yet. How long do I have to sort something out?’

‘For fuck’s sake, Angela, I know this is shitty but will you just get over this? They’re going to run something whether you’re part of it or not,’ Mary barked. ‘I’m trying to help you out by giving you some control.’

‘Fine,’ I breathed out for the first time in what felt like hours. ‘If I can’t sort this out I’ll do the interview. Please, Mary, please just hold it off until the end of today, and if I can’t work it out, I’ll do whatever you want. Photos, interviews; everything. Me and James.’

‘You’ve got until the end of today,’ Mary said quietly. ‘I’ll be in my office. Call me when you’ve got the loaves and the fishes.’

‘Loaves and fishes?’

‘Angela, you’re going to need a miracle.’

Chapter Twelve

It took me fifteen minutes to find Jenny, and that was with the help of three assistants. Seriously, that shop was designed solely to keep the uninitiated out. Eventually, I spotted her holding up a tiny leather tuxedo-style jacket next to a silver sequined shrug. Her face fell when she saw me coming towards her.

‘I like the leather,’ I pointed.

‘You look like living shit, what happened?’ she asked, dropping both jackets on the floor and gently taking my shoulders. ‘You OK?’

‘Thanks,’ I breathed. It was still a struggle not to vomit on the spot. ‘I just spoke to Mary.’

‘That bad?’ Jenny winced. ‘Angie, you gotta just tell them the truth.’

‘Who would believe it? Really?’ I shook my head. ‘I’m going to sort it out though, don’t worry. Just meet me for dinner tonight.’

‘Yeah, sure,’ Jenny agreed, scooping up the discarded jackets. ‘Where are you going?’

‘I’m meeting James,’ I said.

Jenny stared at me. ‘Have you lost your mind? Give me that frickin’ phone. I’m calling your editor right now. No, I’m calling Erin, she’s in PR and has hooked up with just about everyone. She’ll know what to do.’

‘Jenny, please, don’t. Just let me have today to sort this all out. Please let me try? If I can’t, we’ll do it your way.’ And Mary’s way and James’s way and everyone’s way but mine, I thought.

Jenny stood pouting, not even slightly convinced.

‘You’ve got Tessa to worry about,’ I reminded her.

‘Who’s worrying about me—why?’ asked a little tiny voice behind me. I turned to see Tessa DiArmo in the gold sequined dress I’d given Jenny, huge chunky leather heeled shoes and a studded cuff. She looked amazing.

‘Wow.’ I was stunned. Her legs seemed to go on forever and the gold brought out highlights in her hair that I hadn’t seen before. ‘Tessa, you look incredible.’

‘Put this on,’ Jenny said, passing her the leather jacket. ‘It’ll give the
paillettes
a tougher edge.’

‘
Paillettes?
’ I mouthed.

‘Big-ass sequins,’ Jenny explained. ‘It’s fashionspeak, designed to make you feel dumb.’

‘I love it,’ Tessa said, spinning around and making the sequins or,
paillettes
, dance in the sunlight. ‘I’m absolutely wearing this tonight.’

‘Fantastic.’ Jenny’s face lit up. I hadn’t seen her look that happy since Ryan Phillippe had checked into The Union last October and she’d ‘accidentally’ taken his unrequested complimentary welcome basket up while he was in the shower. ‘Now go try on the Léger.’

‘I’m too skinny for Léger,’ Tessa whined, heading back into the tiny room. ‘He makes me look like a toothpick.’

‘That’s why you’re trying on the bustier style, it’ll give you the illusion of curves,’ Jenny yelled through the door. ‘No jewellery and go with the strappy Louboutins. Oh, and try the leather jacket with that one too.’

‘Jenny, you’re really good at this,’ I said, catching her off guard with a side hug. ‘She looks amazing.’

‘I know, right?’ She flushed and hugged me back. ‘And it’s so much fun. I’m shopping with someone else’s credit card, telling them what to do and they’re listening
and
paying me for it. I think they call it “living the dream”.’

‘Yay you.’ I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. The car must have arrived. ‘Look, I’m going to go. You have fun and I’ll call you later.’

‘As long as you know I’m not happy about this,’ she yelled as I walked away. ‘You tell that dick that I’m going to beat his ass when I next see him.’

James had clearly decided it wasn’t safe to be in the car with me and had sent his driver alone. I couldn’t help but wonder about all the things he had seen, all the things he must know. James must be paying him a fortune not to spill it all. That, or he was actually a decent person. Wow, I did not love the fact that the idea of him just being a good person was my second thought.

We drove south in silence for about ten minutes before pulling up outside what looked like a park. A park with an animatronic mammoth sinking into a pool of stinking black goo.

‘Here?’ I asked the driver, trying to spot James and Blake. And there they were, sitting on a bench just inside the gate.

‘Here,’ he confirmed, turning off the engine. ‘Try not to push them in.’

The pair of them stood when they saw me walking across the grass. I stopped short of the hug that James offered and folded my arms, mirroring Blake’s barely restrained fury. Who thought we would ever have something in common?

‘Tar pits?’ I asked, looking around at the groups of tiny school children running around us. They were too tiny and high on being out of the classroom to recognize or care about James, but their teachers were all trying very hard not to stare.