I Heart Hollywood (13 page)

‘Of course not,’ Jenny took my shoulders and looked at me closely, assessing my make-up. ‘I mean, if James knows Jake Gyllenhaal I’ll be more than happy to trade up.’

‘That so wouldn’t be trading up,’ I said quietly, taking the new lip gloss she held out. ‘James is definitely hotter than Jake. And nicer too, I bet. And a better actor.’

‘Uh-oh, someone has a crush,’ Jenny nodded at the peachy gloss. ‘And what does Alex think about you trading up?’

‘Please…’ I blushed. I was so happy that she was talking to me again, it just didn’t seem necessary to tell her about the cheek stroking. ‘Not even a movie star would be trading up from Alex. You can’t compare hotness with love, can you?’

‘Wait, he’s said he loves you?’ Jenny stopped in her nose-powdering tracks. ‘When did this happen and why am I only finding out now?’

‘Well, no,’ I admitted. ‘He still hasn’t actually said it. I just meant that I wouldn’t swap what we have for anything.’

‘Angie, I wish you would just pick up the phone and say it,’ Jenny said. ‘What are you waiting for? You can say it first, you know.’

‘I hate it when you flip into Oprah mode,’ I mumbled, slipping on my ever-ready Louboutins. How did a simple red sole transform a strappy gold sandal from ‘nice shoe’ to ‘spend-a-month’s-rent-on-me-and-I-will-complete-you’? Those shoes and I had been through a lot together, including breaking someone’s hand; and even though they should remind me of some not-so-good times, the effect they had on my legs was magical. And therefore they would always be forgiven everything.

‘So that’s it? You just don’t want to say it first?’ Jenny pressed on. I knew she wouldn’t rest until she got an answer. And the cow could always tell when I was lying.

‘No,’ I sighed, perching on the end of the bed to fasten my shoes. ‘I don’t want to say it first, OK?’

‘It’s more than OK,’ she said, sitting down next to me. ‘But really, I already know you love him, honey. Everyone knows. Erin knows, Vanessa knows, I think even Scottie in the diner knows. So I’m pretty certain Alex knows.’

‘His name isn’t Scottie,’ I sighed. ‘So you think I should say it?’

‘No, what I’m saying is, you wear your heart on your sleeve, Angie, and maybe this time you wait him out.’ Jenny combed my hair back off my face. ‘Let him do the running. If he loves you, he’ll say it.’

‘If.’ It was hours since we’d spoken and I was starting to get really annoyed that he hadn’t called back.

‘Anything else you want to tell me, doll?’ Jenny asked. ‘Because if he has done anything wrong—’

‘No, no.’ I breathed in deeply and stood up. ‘Just me being paranoid. He’s just been hard to get hold of the last couple of days. Come on, let’s go and get you some.’

‘Hell, yeah.’ She kicked on her sandals. ‘But he can’t say he wasn’t warned. If I see so much as a tear out of you because of him, I will kick his ass all the way across the Brooklyn Bridge.’

‘I’ll have to get you back to Brooklyn first,’ I said, linking arms and pulling her out of the room. ‘You seem awfully at home here.’

‘Well, let’s see how I get on with your movie star,’ Jenny said cheerfully. ‘I can always fly back in his private jet if I really have to.’

Joe was waiting in reception, propped against the desk in tight black jeans and second-skin grey T-shirt, artfully stretched at the deep V-neck. He was clearly taking his rivalry with James very seriously. Even if James didn’t know anything about it. Jenny literally leapt out of the lift and scooted over, curling herself into the crook of his arm, her dreams of private jets and Malibu mansions forgotten for at least the length of time it took us to walk from reception to James’s waiting car outside.

I wasn’t sure whether to be happy or not, but he’d swapped the Hummer for the limo, much to Jenny’s delight. But nothing could compare to the look on her face once she was safely positioned between a slightly terrified-looking James and a slightly territorial-looking Joe. I hopped in next to Blake for the five-minute ride down to The Roosevelt, trying to pretend the awkward moments with both James and Joe had not happened. Trying and failing.

‘How come we have to drive five minutes down the road?’ I asked after the introductions were done. ‘It’s not terribly environmentally friendly, is it?’

‘Want to see what happens when I hang around Hollywood Boulevard at eleven at night?’ James asked, pressing the button to let down the blacked-out window. ‘Hi ladies,’ he called at a group of girls hovering outside Gap.

‘Omigod, are you…?’ The tall brunette closest to the limo dropped her drink, spilling Coke all over the pavement.

They peered inside at James and, honestly, even if he hadn’t been a megastar, I don’t think I would have been able to keep it together. His tight black shirt stretched over his ‘just finished a movie’ six-pack and his loose, straight-cut jeans couldn’t conceal his fantastic thighs. And even though he was sitting on it, I’d already had a sneak peek at his backside when he climbed across the limo seat. Not that I was looking.

‘Yeah, James Jacobs,’ he nodded, holding up a hand in a short wave. ‘Have a great evening.’

All three of the girls paled and stood open-mouthed for a split second as James buzzed the window back up. Then they broke out into an ear-piercing, glass-shattering scream. Before I could lean back into my seat, they were on the car. Actually on it.

‘Enough games, James?’ Blake sighed, as the limo began to move at a crawl, leaving the girls behind us. ‘This is all going to end up in her freaking magazine. Is that what you want?’

‘Does that happen everywhere you go?’ I asked, staring back at the girls standing in the middle of the street, clutching at each other just to stay vertical.

‘More or less everywhere,’ James laughed. ‘You didn’t notice it today?’

‘Only in the restaurant,’ I said, thinking back over the day. It was quite possible that people had been collapsing left, right and centre, but I had been so busy trying not to fall in love with James myself that my own mother could probably have passed out in front of us and I wouldn’t have noticed. ‘Wow. That must be a nightmare.’

‘You learn to live with it,’ he said, smiling at Jenny, who had been silent (for the first time in her life) for the whole journey but sat staring at James with the most ridiculous grin I had ever seen etched into her face. Joe, however, had a face like thunder. Maybe this wasn’t my best idea ever. ‘Shall we go in?’

Teddy’s really was fun, if not completely surreal. Like the rest of The Roosevelt, it was gloriously old Hollywood, and wandering through the darkened bar, past the subdued booths lined with wine-coloured velvet and mahogany-coloured people, I felt just like Elizabeth Taylor. If Elizabeth Taylor had been incredibly self-conscious about weighing at least as much as two of every other woman in the room. Whilst having to restrain her best friend from physically attacking every man in the room. But then maybe Elizabeth Taylor did have to do that, how would I know?

‘Jesus, Angie, I think I’ve died and gone to heaven,’ Jenny whispered as we were escorted through to a VIP table. ‘This is totally where I belong.’

‘Well, don’t rely on me hanging out with you when you’re here,’ I whispered back. ‘I feel like someone stuffed an Olsen twin down my dress. How thin are these girls? And I think Joe is going to deck James. Or Blake. Or both.’

Despite James’s attempt at conversation, Joe had maintained an impressive stony silence, except for when he was addressed by me or Jenny. Plus he and Blake had been exchanging stares ever since we got in the limo and it had only got worse since we arrived at the club.

‘So, Joe,’ I started with my quickly formulated plan of distraction. ‘Do you come here a lot?’

‘Mmmm,’ Joe nodded, swirling the beer he had insisted on buying himself at the bar, ‘with some of the guys from the hotel. And you know, sometimes I model a little. I actually did a job at the Tropicana a couple of weeks ago, the roof bar here.’ He sat down in between me and Jenny, sliding an arm around each of us. It might have looked casual, but the firm grip on my shoulder said it was anything but.

Jenny idly caught his fingers and entwined them with her own, even though her eyes were firmly locked on James. I was working extra hard at not making eye contact with anyone other than myself in the mirror behind the bar. And someone that looked just Kristen Stewart. Oh. And Kristen Stewart.

‘Have you ever thought about acting?’ James asked, pouring everyone a generous measure of vodka from the bottle that had just been brought to our table.

‘Whatever,’ Joe replied, looking away. ‘Modelling is one thing but dancing around in tights for a living? I don’t think so.’

‘Hey,’ Blake turned sharply.

James laughed, seemingly oblivious to Joe’s enormous attitude problem. ‘It’s just one of the perils of superhero movies. But you know what, tights are surprisingly comfortable. You do get used to them.’

‘Tights, really?’ Jenny mooned, dropping Joe’s hand and giving James’s knee a quick squeeze. ‘Are you wearing them now?’

‘Seriously?’ Joe narrowed his eyes at Jenny as she let out her most impressive flirty laugh. ‘Everyone knows actors are just delusional egotists. They all end up in rehab sooner or later.’

‘Are you taking Jenny on for title of the next Oprah or what?’ I forced out a laugh but this was all getting a little bit too tense and I really wasn’t one for confrontation.

‘I’m gonna take a walk.’ Joe measured his breathing and draped his arm possessively around my shoulders. ‘You coming, English?’

James looked over at me but I really wasn’t sure what his dark blue eyes were trying to say. I opened my mouth to stall but Blake beat me to it.

‘Maybe that’s not a bad idea,’ he challenged Joe, taking a swig straight out of the vodka bottle. ‘Maybe you should both just go.’

‘Me?’ I asked, snapping to surprise. ‘What did I do?’

‘You brought this asshole,’ Blake replied. ‘As far as I’m concerned, the interview is over. In fact, James, we’re leaving.’

‘Great, why don’t you just move on, fag?’ Joe said into his beer bottle.

‘What did you just call me?’ Blake stood up suddenly, followed in a heartbeat by Joe and then James.

‘Hey, guys, come on.’ James pushed himself in between the two as they squared up. ‘This isn’t happening.’

‘No, this is bullshit.’ Joe pushed his way past the two of them, knocking Jenny off the edge of her seat and into me as he left. The weight of the Lopez wasn’t ever going to cause me trouble but the vodka soda she spilled all down my dress wasn’t exactly ideal.

‘Oh, shit,’ I said, leaping up, right into James’s waiting arms.

‘We have to get out of here,’ Blake said, pulling at James’s shoulder. I froze for a second, pressed against James’s chest, my wet dress soaking through against his shirt, until it was warmed by the heat of his skin. It wasn’t until he’d scooped me up, as if I weighed nothing, as if I was half an Olsen, let alone three strapped together, that I realized we were moving out of the club.

‘Angie?’ Jenny yelled over the music, still on the floor beside the wreckage of our table. ‘Wait!’

‘Jenny,’ I protested, preferring the view of James’s dark brown curls to the stares and whispers all around us. And, oh dear God, the camera flashes.

‘Blake, go back for her,’ James commanded, striding into the lift, leaving an incensed Blake standing stock-still. ‘Now I remember why I stopped going out.’

I didn’t know what to say. On one hand I felt awful about leaving Jenny—sick, actually—but on the other, I knew that the second James put me down, the interview, my job, possibly my visa and then more or less my entire life was over. I had to try and get this back on track somehow, otherwise Jenny wouldn’t have a roommate to be mad at.

‘James, I am so incredibly sorry,’ I said as we scrambled into the limo and tore off up Hollywood Boulevard. ‘I-I should just go back to my hotel and—’

‘That’s not a good idea,’ James said quietly. ‘Have a look out of the back window.’

Twisting against my seatbelt, I turned to look back, trying not to get dizzy at the speeds we were travelling. I don’t know what I was expecting to see but, whatever it was, the sea of bright lights and industrial-strength flashes was not it. True, I still had an issue with what side of the road we were supposed to be driving on, but these cars were literally all over the road. The honking, the screeching, even the screaming was so loud, so intense. It made a wander down our block in New York sound like an episode of
Songs of Praise
.

‘What’s happening?’ I asked, slightly dazed and very nauseous.

‘Paparazzi,’ James sighed. ‘My good friends, the paparazzi.’

‘How did they know where you were?’

‘Who knows? Maybe someone overheard us this afternoon and tipped them off. Maybe they were already outside Teddy’s on the off-chance someone would show up. Maybe someone called them when we arrived.’

‘But we were only there for half an hour?’ I couldn’t believe it, no matter how fast we went, they came at us faster until they were swarming all around the car.

‘Get away from the window.’ James pulled me into the centre of the limo, on the floor between the seats. ‘Some of the flashes are bright enough to see you through the tinted glass.’

‘Wow, this is glamorous,’ I said, trying to shuffle my dress around my thighs to avoid any further pant revelation.

‘Yes, the rock-and-roll life of a movie star.’ He held out an arm to steady me as we skidded around a tight corner. ‘But you’re all-over rock and roll, surely?’

‘Me?’ I squirmed across the floor of the car, trying not to nestle against his broad, warm and still slightly damp chest.

‘Your boyfriend, the rock star? Alan?’

Oh. ‘Alex. His name is Alex. He’s so not a rock star. There’s a pretty big difference between him and Bono.’ I fumbled around on the floor of the car looking for my bag. ‘What time is it?’

‘Not even twelve, what’s up?’

‘Just wondered.’ I pulled out my phone. Twelve here, three in New York. And a missed call from Alex. Just one. Twenty minutes earlier and no message. ‘Bugger.’ Just as I was about to redial, James snatched the phone out of my hand.

‘If you throw that out of the window, I will freak out.’