He's the One (20 page)

Zac’s production company occupied a swish office complex in Beverly Hills. Usually Brooke would have made an effort to be ultra-groomed when she made a visit – always mindful of being spotted by producers and directors. Now she was going to have to settle for dark glasses to cover her puffy eyes and hope
that no one noticed her. She had reckoned without Zac’s snotty PA, a stunning redhead called Alyssa who insisted that Zac couldn’t possibly see her now and that he didn’t have a window until tomorrow afternoon at the earliest.

‘Please can you let him know that I’m here? I can’t go until I’ve seen him. It’s really urgent.’ The tears were threatening to fall again.

Alyssa sighed and signalled that Brooke should take a seat, before sauntering into Zac’s office. Brooke perched self-consciously on the edge of one of the taupe leather sofas. The air con was turned on so high that she was freezing in her vest and shorts, and her hair was still wet from the swim. She must look like shit. She hadn’t even put any make up on. Alyssa emerged from the office. ‘You can have two minutes.’

Patronising cow! She was just saying that, Brooke tried to tell herself, of course he would give her more time. But as soon as she walked into his spacious office she felt her courage desert her. Zac remained sitting behind his glossy white lacquer desk and looked at her without a hint of warmth in his expression. Okay, he was pissed off with her mom, she got it, but he must know that it had nothing to do with her.

‘You wanted to see me, Brooke?’

He sounded so formal, as if he hardly knew her. She stood in the middle of the room, hardly knowing what to say. He gestured to her to sit down and she took a seat opposite him, feeling as if she was there for an interview.

‘Um … I’m really sorry about you and Mom. It’s not what I would have wanted. And, for what it’s worth, I think she’s making a big mistake.’

He shrugged. ‘It’s not what I want either, but Liberty is determined, she’s made that crystal clear. The
divorce is going ahead.’ His tone was cold, stripped of any emotion. It didn’t give Brooke much hope, but she ploughed on.

‘Mom’s talking about going back to the UK, but I really don’t want to go with her, Zac – LA is my home, I belong here.’ She paused, waiting for him to step in and say that of course it was, and that she could live with him. Nothing was forthcoming.

‘I wondered if I could carry on living with you? I promise I won’t be any trouble. I know I’ve been a bit slack lately with my schoolwork, but I’ll make more effort. And you’ll hardly know I’m there. I won’t make a mess, I’ll make sure Ozzy doesn’t come upstairs any more …’ She had clasped her hands together as if praying, feeling that her whole future hung on his reply.

When it came, it was like a body blow. ‘I’m afraid that’s simply not possible, Brooke. I’m not your father.’

‘I know, but we’ve always got on, haven’t we?’ She was struggling to come up with some examples of happy times they had shared. There must have been some, though none sprang to mind.

‘I couldn’t live with you, Brooke. Every minute of every day would be a reminder of your mother and what she’d done to me. I need to make a clean break from both of you. I don’t wish you ill, truly I don’t. I just never want to see you again.’

‘What? You can’t mean that, Zac?’ Her head was spinning. This was the worst news ever. Her dreams of being an actor, the life she’d had all mapped out, had been demolished in front of her.

Zac pressed a button on his desk. ‘Alyssa, can you show Brooke out?’ He looked at her. ‘And just one more thing before you go … can you give me your credit cards? I’m not going to be subsidising your lifestyle any longer. Goodbye, Brooke.’

It was late afternoon by the time Brooke arrived at the beach. After seeing Zac she had driven around Beverly Hills in a complete daze, unable to think straight. She had nowhere to go. She had just enough money to buy herself a coffee and took it on to the beach where she sat watching the sunset, feeling more lonely and lost than she ever had before in her life. She couldn’t believe that Zac had rejected her. God! First her real father wanted nothing to do with her, and then her stepdad. It was too much.

She stayed on the beach for several hours, gazing out at the ocean, lost in her thoughts. Everyone else around her was so happy and carefree. She watched a teenage couple walking by the sea, the boy with his arm draped round the girl, entirely caught up in each other. A few days ago that would have been her and Christian. And where was he now? Most likely with Taylor. Somehow in the middle of everything else that had happened it seemed like the very least of her problems. She had no more emotions to waste on Christian. Her phone beeped with a message from Kelly.

Where r u babe? We’re all worried about u. Please let us know u are okay. xx.

It was tempting not to reply, to let them all carry on worrying, but while Brooke felt Liberty totally deserved that, she didn’t want to upset Kelly and her family.

Back soon x
, she replied, and stayed a few minutes more to watch the flaming orange sun sink into the ocean on her beloved beach.

Chapter 23

Liberty

Home, she was home at last, and it felt absolutely fantastic. When Liberty had arrived at Heathrow, she’d had a mad urge to kneel down and kiss the ground, she was so relieved to be away from Zac, except Brooke would have killed her for embarrassing her. Brooke already wanted to kill her mother for making her move as it was. God, Liberty hoped she would come round to it soon; it was like sharing the house with a ball of pure fury. A ball of pure fury who swore and slammed doors a lot.

But tonight was all about celebrating Liberty’s return. She was out at Hotel du Vin – the kind of place she could never afford to go when she and Em used to hit the town all those years ago – with Em, Angel Summer, and her flamboyantly over the top camp hairdresser/best friend Jez. Em’s husband, Noah, had been redesigning Angel’s garden and the two women had become friendly again, after losing touch on leaving school. Angel was as beautiful as ever if not more so, as her cheekbones seemed to have become even more
defined with age, and motherhood had given a new strength and confidence to her features. She was so friendly and unaffected, even after years of being one half of the UK’s most famous celebrity couple. Liberty had seen her a few times when Angel had been living in LA before, and she’d always made a refreshing change from some of the other celebrities Liberty knew, who thought everything about themselves was automatically more significant and interesting than it was for anyone else on the planet. But Zac hadn’t liked her, and it had been difficult for Liberty to see her. Once Angel had gone back to England, they had lost touch again.

‘So was being with Zac a bit like that film
Sleeping with the Enemy
? You know, all the tins lined up in alphabetical order and the towels arranged just so,’ Jez asked, after she’d mentioned in passing how controlling her soon-to-be ex-husband was and how that had been one of the reasons she left him.

Angel punched him on the arm. ‘Jez! Inappropriate!’ She turned to Liberty. ‘I’m so sorry about him. He can’t help himself. And he’s a diamond really. One of my oldest friends. I’ve known him since I started modelling.’

‘Yeah, a hundred years ago,’ he quipped.

‘Honestly – that’s loyalty for you.’ But Angel smiled fondly at Jez, and Liberty guessed that their relationship was built on banter.

‘I’m sorry, Liberty, she’s right, I can’t stop myself,’ Jez added.

She laughed. ‘I’m not offended.’ She could laugh about Zac, now there was the Atlantic between them and the divorce was going through. ‘And he wasn’t quite as bad as the guy in the film. Let’s just say, I’m so very glad not to be married to him any more.’

‘And we’re glad you’re not!’ Em declared with
feeling. ‘Let’s have a toast. To your brilliant new life, away from that cold-hearted fucker.’

‘Em!’ Liberty exclaimed, worried that people at other tables would be offended, but everyone else round about them was laughing.

‘I’m just telling it like it is,’ Em defended herself.

‘So what are your plans now you’re back?’ Angel asked Liberty.

‘I’m going to get a new agent – I’ve got some meetings set up over the next few weeks. I want to get Brooke settled and I want to enjoy myself. God, I want to enjoy myself! I want to slob about in my trackies and watch crap TV and not have someone criticise me for it. I want to go running by the sea, I want to eat my favourite caramel ice cream at Morocco’s, and have fish and chips. I want to—’

‘Have a shag with a totally hot stranger?’ Jez interrupted.

See Cory again
. The thought had been constantly in her head since Zac had told her about the letter. Half of Liberty really wanted to see him, to find out what he had written to her and whether he still had feelings for her, the other was too scared of him rejecting her.

‘Yeah, maybe,’ she bantered back, not wanting to let on what she was thinking. ‘Are there any in Brighton?’

‘Well, there might be a few at the party I’m having at the beginning of October,’ Angel put in.

‘Yeah, some loaded footballers,’ Jez added. ‘Admittedly none of them will be in Cal’s league looks-wise.’ Cal was Angel’s drop-dead-gorgeous husband. ‘But you could always lie back and think of their weekly pay packets. Money and power can go some way towards making up for shagging a guy with a face like a bulldog sucking a wasp. Or so I’ve heard. Never done it myself.’

An eye roll from Angel. ‘Anyway … the point is, you’re both invited. If you can put up with a night of Jez. He’ll have his husband Rufus with him, who can usually keep him in check.’

Of course that prompted Jez to whip out his phone and show Liberty and Em pictures of Rufus, who looked like the strong, silent type. Just as well really as Jez could talk for England. They should make it an Olympic sport – he’d get gold every single time.

It ended up being one of the best nights Liberty had had in years. Admittedly she drank too much champagne and knew she would have a wicked hangover next day, but it was worth it.

‘Shall we get some fish and chips?’ Angel asked as they stumbled out of Hotel du Vin, slightly the worse for wear.

‘Can’t we go back in there and have some proper cuisine?’ Jez protested, wrinkling his nose.

‘Nah, I’m in the mood for fish and chips,’ Angel replied. Liberty and Em were up for it too and they went into the cheap and cheerful restaurant on the corner.

‘I can’t believe you’ve brought me here. I don’t do this kind of place,’ Jez declared as they sat round the plastic-topped table. There were bright fluorescent lights overhead, and a strong smell of frying. The contrast with Hotel du Vin could not have been greater.

‘Oh, shut up, I bet you eat everything,’ Angel told him. And sure enough Jez polished off all his cod and chips and half of Em’s.

‘So that’s one thing you can tick off your to do list,’ he told Liberty as they said goodbye afterwards. ‘Now for the hot shag.’

‘And on that bombshell …’ Liberty joked as she and Em got into the taxi.

Chapter 24

Brooke

As far as Brooke was concerned her life was shit, and it was going to remain shit until she could save up enough money and go back to LA. Yes, her mom had rented them a house by the sea, and if Brooke was honest it was a beautiful house and even had its own strip of beach and a swimming pool. It was on a private road, the last in a select row of bright white houses, all built in the same unusual style with castle battlements and turrets, all over a hundred years old. Apparently it was known locally as Millionaire’s Row. But the house didn’t come anywhere close to her old one in LA. Nor did the shingle beach and grey-blue English Channel compare well to the wide sandy expanse, fringed with palm trees and the glittering sapphire-blue Pacific Ocean, of her Santa Monica beach. Everything here seemed smaller, duller and more insignificant than in LA.

She spent her first week in Brighton hardly leaving her room, dressed in sweat pants and a hoodie, messaging Kelly and watching DVDs. She refused to eat supper with her mom and carried her meals upstairs
to eat on her own. Brooke had emerged only to see her gran, Nina, who had been a frequent visitor, and to take Ozzy for walks. He, at least, seemed to have adapted to his new surroundings very happily, especially since he was allowed to sleep in Brooke’s room. But she barely spoke to her mom. And every time she caught sight of Liberty looking happy, Brooke wanted to scream. She couldn’t forgive her for forcing them to make this move. The day they had left LA had been without doubt the worst one of Brooke’s life. Rosa and Kelly had come to LAX to say goodbye and she had clung to them both, sobbing her heart out. Her mom literally had to prise her away.

But after five days of being a virtual recluse she was just about ready to go stir crazy. She had to do something! She changed into jeans and a t-shirt, put on her favourite pair of crystal-studded white Converse, and for the first time all week applied some make up.

Downstairs she found Liberty in the kitchen checking emails on her laptop. Her mom stopped what she was doing when Brooke walked in.

‘Hey, you look nice. Do you want to go into town with me and I can show you around? It’s got some great shops – all the ones you love, like MAC, Superdry, Hollister – and lots of quirky, vintage boutiques as well.’

Brooke gave her mom her best withering WTF look. Like she would want to spend any time with her. The antichrist, the mom from hell, the woman who had ruined her life!

‘No, thanks, I’m going to see Nina.’

Her mom’s mom had always outright refused to be called Granny. Being able to see her was the only good thing about being here. Brooke adored Nina and had always loved her visits over to LA. The big house had felt even emptier after she’d left.

‘Oh, well, I could always meet you afterwards,’ Liberty said hopefully.

Why didn’t she just give up and accept that she had ruined any chance of a good mother/daughter relationship between them? It wasn’t going to happen.
Ever
.