I Heart Hollywood (24 page)

3. Speak to James

As much as I wanted to just call
The Sun
and tell them that James was as gay as a goose, I just couldn’t do it. Damn that stupid misguided sense of dignity. Or was it pride? Or maybe just the idea of me stretched across the front page of the
News of the World
in a pair of La Senza lace shorts with everything padded, pushed and teased under the headline ‘James Jacobs’s Beard Tells All!’ was just too much. Actually, the
News of the World
wouldn’t say beard, they’d probably go straight to ‘Pathetic fag hag, Angela Clark spills the beans on James Jacobs’s late-night gay orgies in Hollywood’s public bathrooms…’ My mother would be so proud.

4. Sort things out with Jenny

It was just too much that things were weird between us, especially with everything else going on, but I had a horrible feeling that things were going to get weirder before they got better. Or was that just a horrible feeling that I was about to throw up? Dropping the pen and pad, I raced to the bathroom to double up over the toilet just in time.

When would I learn?

‘Jesus Christ, Angie, what the hell happened to you?’

I woke up slowly, my face cold and seemingly stuck to something hard, a flip-flopped foot in my blurry eyeline. Trying to move my head hurt far too much, and for some reason my left arm was completely paralysed.

‘Angie, can you hear me? Did you take something?’ The voice carried on but it sounded so far away. ‘How long have you been on the bathroom floor?’

Ahh, that made sense, I was still on the bathroom floor. Which was why it was cold. Which was why I couldn’t move my arm. Which was why Jenny’s feet were almost touching my nose.

‘For Christ’s sake, Angie, are you thinking your answers instead of saying them again?’

Yes, I thought.

‘Mmhuh,’ I said.

With the help of Jenny and a towel rail not meant to be used to hoist ten stone of incredibly hungover girl up off the floor, I was soon sitting, or slumped, on the toilet seat. I readily accepted the glass of water she held out to me, not bothering that it came from the bathroom tap, and glugged it down. Which was my first mistake.

After I’d thrown the first glass of water up, I slowly sipped a second, Jenny shaking her head at me from the edge of the bath.

‘I cannot believe you, Angie.’ She pushed my hair back off my face. ‘What happened after I left?’

‘What happened?’ I closed my eyes again. It didn’t help. ‘You want to know what happened?’

‘Yeah,’ Jenny said, taking my empty glass and refilling it from the bath tap. Was it weird that it tasted like heaven? ‘I mean last night. What happened to “I would never cheat on Alex, even if we’re on a break?”’

‘I remember, I wasn’t that drunk,’ I replied, despite the fact that that was clearly a lie. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘The photos of you and James?’ Jenny gave me her ‘duh’ face. ‘The ones that Erin and Vanessa and Gina all emailed over today? I kinda didn’t expect you to be here. Did he leave already or did you just come back to the hotel after you did the deed?’

‘Oh my God.’ I suddenly felt very, very sick again. ‘It’s so not what you think.’

‘You didn’t, did you?’ Jenny asked, her annoyingly healthy face lit up like Christmas.

‘Jenny, he’s gay,’ I said into the palms of my hands.

She scoffed. ‘If he said no, you can just say so.’

I looked up, my attractive white pallor apparently adding to my serious face.

‘No. Way.’

‘Yes.’

‘No. Way.’

‘With Blake.’

‘Really? That’s hot.’

‘Missing the point entirely, Jenny.’ I pulled a flannel from the towel rail, ran it under the cold water and pressed it against my face. ‘What am I going to do?’

‘Well, you’re gonna take a shower first,’ Jenny said, standing up and pulling the shower curtain across behind her. ‘Then you’re going to explain to me every last little detail of how you uncovered this juicy, potentially financially rewarding piece of gossip, and then you’re coming with me to go shopping for Tessa DiArmo’s award show tonight.’

‘You’re seriously doing that?’ I asked, peeling off my sweaty dress and stepping into the shower. Ahh, the sweet relief of running water.

‘Don’t ever doubt me, Angela Clark,’ Jenny called, closing the bathroom door. ‘Get your ass clean and be downstairs in ten minutes.’

Ten minutes was always going to be a stretch but, fifteen minutes later, I emerged from the lift with a very roughly blow-dried bob, hastily applied make-up and my satchel thrown across my body. Jenny looked my jeans and T-shirt up and down and sighed.

‘That’s so not the ensemble to be photographed in, honey,’ she said, wrapping her arm around my shoulders and guiding me out to the car. ‘Where’s the big hat? The dark glasses?’

I pulled my sunglasses triumphantly out of my handbag. ‘I’m wearing the exact same outfit as you,’ I protested. But of course I wasn’t. My baggy boyfriend jeans and little pink American Apparel T-shirt couldn’t compare with Jenny’s skintight Sevens and clingy, white, deep V-neck. At least our black Havaianas were identical.

We picked up iced coffees en route, me thankful for any reason to get out of the car-slash-death-trap, Jenny ecstatic to be able to demonstrate her ability to sip a Frapuccino whilst driving, and I filled Jenny in on the James/Blake situation. Once I’d finished the story for the third time, I tilted my head back and stared up at the beautiful blue, cloudless sky. At least if I looked up there, I couldn’t see Jenny running red lights.

‘So what are you going to do?’ Jenny asked, swerving around a tight corner onto Melrose Avenue. ‘Did you make everything OK with Alex? Did you speak to Mary?’

‘I spoke to Alex but it didn’t go that well.’ And that’s putting it mildly, I added to myself. ‘I have to call Mary but I’ve been sort of putting it off. I’m guessing the fact that she hasn’t called me yet is not a good sign.’

‘It all sounds pretty clear to me, honey,’ Jenny said, swinging the car into a car park beside a building that seemed to be covered in grass. ‘You just have to tell her the truth. It’s just gonna sort this whole thing out.’

‘I know but, well, actually, I don’t know…’ I pulled my frizzy hair into a loose ponytail and wrapped a band around it. ‘I can’t just out him, can I? Obviously he’s hiding it all for a reason.’

Jenny stopped the car with a jolt. ‘Are you fucking with me?’

‘Jenny—’

‘This ass-hat makes out with you in public, allows photos of the two of you to be published all over the internet, effectively destroys your relationship and costs you your job and you don’t want to casually drop into conversation that he’s the new Clay Aiken?’

I wrinkled my nose. ‘Yeah, well.’

‘Great argument,’ she climbed out over the locked car door.

‘They do open, you know,’ I grumbled. ‘Where are we anyway?’

‘And I thought I’d made a shopper out of you.’ Jenny held her arms out in a flourish. ‘This, my British friend, is Fred Segal. Fashion emporium and Los Angeles institution. And where we’re meeting Teresa inside in a half-hour, so we need to get our shit together.’

‘Tessa’s really coming?’ I asked, pulling off my sunglasses and following Jenny past a row of tables and chairs, already packed with pretty people. ‘Jenny, that’s incredible.’

‘I know, crazy right?’ Jenny smiled and nodded at the man holding open the door for us. ‘She texted me this morning to say she’d meet us here. Daphne is going to freak out when she finds out. Tessa DiArmo is a big get for a stylist.’

‘I’m sure she’ll be happy for you,’ I lied. ‘Where did she go, anyway?’

‘Uh, she went home with that guy she was…talking to,’ she muttered into a clothes rail.

The store appeared to be split into lots of different little sections but, unsurprisingly, Jenny knew exactly where she was going. It was as if she had inbuilt shopping GPS: I was fairly sure I could drop her in any major shopping capital in the world and she’d be able to find the nearest Starbucks, bathroom and Marc Jacobs concession. It was a talent I very much hoped to develop when I grew up.

‘Well, if she’d stayed maybe she would be styling Tessa,’ I said in my least judgemental voice. Which was still fairly judgey. ‘But anyway, I wanted to talk about last night. About what you said before you…left.’

‘I called ahead to set up a room for Tessa DiArmo?’ Jenny confidently accosted a passing salesgirl. ‘Can you please make sure that it’s ready? We’re going to be sending things over soon. Thanks.’

The girl looked us up and down once, nodded and then rushed off to the back of the store. Jenny kept her back to me.

‘Do you think this would suit Tessa?’ She held out a Twenty8Twelve T-shirt dress. ‘Too casual for an awards show, though, right? But maybe with heels and the right jacket…’

‘Jenny, you realize I’m not going to let this go, don’t you?’ I said, pushing the dress away. ‘What you said last night? And no, it wouldn’t suit Tessa. It would suit me though.’

She tossed the dress towards me. ‘I have to find like ten outfits before Tessa gets here, so can we not do this now?’

‘We are doing it now; you do your clearest thinking when you’re shopping.’ I passed the dress on to the assistant that had appeared back at Jenny’s side. ‘I thought this trip was all about you getting laid. What’s happened with Joe?’

‘Turns out maybe it wasn’t as easy as I’d thought. Or at least he isn’t any more,’ she said, turning her attention to a grey strapless Hache mini-dress. ‘The folds on this are really interesting. This could look gorgeous with—like—a little leather jacket and some chunky heels?’

‘Yes, it would,’ I agreed, passing it to the assistant at her elbow. ‘So that’s the problem? Joe? Because you could get men loads better than Joe, you know.’

‘Yeah, for sure. Except it turns out maybe I don’t want to. What about this?’ She pulled out a gold sequined tank dress.

‘Jeff?’

‘Jeff.’

‘Oh, Jenny.’

I watched her lips press into thin, colourless lines as she systematically flicked through the rail of clothes in front of her, from left to right.

‘I’m gonna get you guys some water,’ the salesgirl said eventually, backing away from the awkward silence. I nodded and smiled as she scuttled away.

‘You know, I’m not the best person to be giving out relationship advice, but you will get over it eventually. That is actually a fact. And I’m pretty sure one you told me once,’ I picked out a red Hervé Léger number and held it up to Jenny. ‘I wish you’d just talked to me about this. Practise what you preach and all that?’

‘Yeah, except I’m not that good at taking my own advice,’ she said, nodding at the red dress. ‘He’s moving in with his new girlfriend, you know? He called me to tell me in case I found out from Alex. I guess, even after everything, I really thought we were supposed to end up together. Now I’m not so sure.’

‘This new girlfriend could be a total rebound thing,’ I suggested. ‘You don’t know.’

‘I’m not sure any more.’ She finally turned around. Silent tears tracked down her face. ‘Maybe I need to get away for a while. Jeff is everywhere at home, I just can’t move on.’

‘You’re thinking about leaving? New York?’ I didn’t know what to do.

‘Maybe. For a while. I don’t know.’ She took my hand. ‘Angie, I really want today to go good. Can we just talk about this later? I don’t want to be all blah when Tessa gets here.’

‘Of course,’ I said, giving her a quick but tight hug. ‘But as soon as you’re done and you’re ready, we’ll talk. Dinner?’

She nodded quickly. ‘Definitely dinner; but please don’t freak out, honey, there isn’t anything to talk about yet. And we’ve still got a world of trouble to get you out of.’

I pulled a face. ‘Do you know, for five very short minutes, I’d almost forgotten about all that?’

Jenny laughed. ‘Good luck with that.’

‘I’m going to try and give Alex another call.’ I pulled a silver puffball dress off the rail and passed it to her. ‘Get her to try this on. I’ll be back in a minute.’

Fred Segal was like a very fashionable labyrinth. Each little salon led into another dead end, a cul-de-sac of couture. Eventually, I followed the sunlight out to the door we’d come in and managed to snag a table in the café. Holding my phone to my ear, I closed my eyes. All I needed to do was press one button. Instead I ordered a smoothie. And checked my emails. And looked at Perez Hilton on my BlackBerry. I just didn’t know what to say to him. Last night’s call was so awful, I didn’t see how I could salvage things over the phone and, after seeing the look in Jenny’s eyes, seeing how broken she was at the realization that she’d never be able to make it work with Jeff, the prospect of losing Alex for good was painfully real.

When my phone actually rang, I answered automatically, and even though I must have pressed a button to connect it, I was still surprised.

‘Angela? It’s James.’

And immediately I wished I hadn’t.

‘Angela, are you there?’ He did not sound good.

‘Clearly I am,’ I replied, frozen to the spot.

‘Are you OK? Where are you?’

‘I’m fine actually,’ I said. ‘I’m just waiting to go on the Ryan Seacrest show to out you. Then I’m going on E! News.’

‘Please, I really want to sort this out,’ he said hurriedly. ‘Please don’t go on air.’

I sat and looked around the café. I was getting the odd look but most people were trying very hard to look as interested as possible in nothing at all.

‘As much as that’s what you deserve, you can calm down,’ I sighed. ‘I’m not going on the radio to out you. I’m just wandering up and down Melrose handing out flyers. I like the personal touch. Much more effective.’

‘You’re on Melrose? Will you come to the hotel? We really need to talk,’ he rushed.

‘We really don’t,’ I replied evenly. I was so incredibly angry with him; just hearing his voice focused my mind completely. It was a much easier emotion to manage than the big ball of blah that took over when I tried to think about Alex. ‘There’s no way on God’s green earth I’m coming over to your hotel.’

‘But if we meet outside the hotel, we’re going to get photographed,’ James said. ‘I thought—’

‘I’ve been told that you’re not good at thinking.’ I slurped my smoothie. It really was delicious. ‘I’m not coming to your hotel. I’m calling my editor and telling her everything and then I’m going back to New York to attempt to salvage my relationship.’