The Seeds Of A Daisy: The Lily Lockwood Series: Book One (Women's Fiction) (6 page)

She wore a tight, black, low-cut sleeveless dress that made her waist look miniscule. The dress was vintage Chanel, and to give her petite frame a boost, she wore four-inch heels, killer-black satin Jimmy Choos with silver pavé buckles on the sides.

I’ve always found it strange that these types of women were always striving to make certain parts of their bodies extremely big and other parts quite small. What would happen if one day all the women like Mitzy woke up and found that the parts that were supposed to be small were large, and vice versa? It would be a laughable tragedy of dramatic proportions and I made a mental note to tell this to Mom. She’d find it hilarious.

Mitzi gave me what Mom refers to as the “dreaded Beverly Hills air kiss.” She then gushed over Jamie and gestured us to follow her.

As we passed an enormous gilded mirror in the hallway, I gave my long brown hair a quick fix. It had started out wavy and sexy, but was looking more “cavewoman” after our convertible ride. I definitely had to give Jamie a hat to keep in the car for me. After smoothing my dress, I glanced quickly one more time and thought I looked pretty good.

Over the years, people have told me I look like a young Sandra Bullock and even though it is a bit annoying to be compared to someone else, I secretly had to agree. I had gotten some sun that day, which brought out my hazel eyes. I had decided to dress casually, since it was Sunday and I wasn’t in the mood for getting too dressed up. I’d put on a salmon-colored silk Stella McCartney sun-dress with a camisole neckline and scallop detail. I threw on a pair of strappy sandals, applied a quick dash of lipstick, and was good to go.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Mitzi turned to me. “Congrats on the Emmy nomination.” Before I could respond with proper thanks, she continued, “You’ve got some stiff competition there, girl.”

Ouch
. I responded to her with something I thought I’d never say in my lifetime: “I know, but it’s an honor to be nominated.” Jamie looked at me like
who are you and what the hell did you do with my girlfriend?

Mitzy ushered us into the large living room. The décor was classic Hollywood of the 1960s, with a sunken conversation pit, large brown module couches, and a massive slate-gray stone fireplace.

“Where are the go-go girls?” I whispered to Jamie. He tried not to laugh.

Harvey Leder, known in Hollywood for his shrewd taste in picking movies that became big box-office smashes and for his bad taste in picking ratty toupées, looked genuinely happy to see us.

“Thanks so much, Harvey, for having this get-together,” Jamie said.

“Are you kidding? I wanted my star to meet everyone. Kid, this film is going to be golden, and you are going to rocket to the top!”

Jamie was eating it up and I was happy for him. Proud of him, too. This was a big break for him and the first time he was carrying a movie.

“Groovy house,” Jamie said. He shot me a look. This time I tried not to crack up.

“Thanks, kiddo,” Harvey replied. “Mitzi and I love it. Man, if these walls could talk. . . Dean lived here back in the day. Frank and the Rat Pack hung out and partied here all the time.

Jamie nodded his head up and down slowly while looking around. “Yeah… I could see that.”

“Lily, mind if I take Jamie away for a minute? Some last-minute work stuff we need to straighten out.” Before I could answer, they were making their way into another room. I found myself standing alone in the middle of the groovy living room.

“Alrighty, then,” I said out loud. Mitzi came back and handed me an apple martini.

“Here you go, sweetie. Now, do you know everyone here?” I looked around and saw small groups of your typical good-looking young actor types chatting and drinking. I’d been a child actor, so I was really considered a veteran in the business. This crowd looked like a new crop of young up-and-comers.

“No, Mitzi, don’t think so, but I’ll be okay—I’m a pro at this. First, I think I need to eat. I didn’t realize how hungry I was until I smelled the food.”

“Well, go head outside and by all means, eat. We have the old sushi chef from Myagis before it closed down. He makes the most incredible rainbow rolls, and Wolfgang sent us his best pasta chef. The linguini is to die for! So go—enjoy.”

I walked through the French doors to the back patio area. There was a huge kidney-shaped pool with cabanas on both sides. A full bar took up one corner, with six buffet tables positioned in front of the cabanas. Round, multicolored lanterns were hung in double strands across the patio, casting enough light to let you see what you were eating, while maintaining a festive and romantic ambience. Small groups of attractive twenty and thirty-somethings chatted, laughed, drank, and mingled.

In high school, I’d had a friend who lived on this block, so even though it was nighttime, I knew the house had a phenomenal view of Los Angeles basin and Catalina Island. I walked over to the bar to exchange my martini for a mojito, which I had recently adopted as my cocktail of choice.

While I waited for the bartender to make my drink, I noticed a large man walking toward to me. He had a sweet face—a cross between John Belushi and Jon Favreau.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey yourself,” I replied.

“I’m Jamie’s sidekick,” he said.

“Sorry, guy, that position’s been filled,” I quickly responded.

He gestured as if he were hitting a drum and cymbal, and made the sound of a rim shot. We both laughed.

“Well, I guess you are, in real life,” he replied. “But in the movie, it’s me. Put it this way, if Jamie was Don Quixote, I would be Sancho Panza.”

“And that would make me his sweet Dulcinea,” I replied. We both laughed again. I liked this guy.

“I’m Bobby,” he said.

“Lily,” I replied.

We shook hands.

“I know who you are,” he said. “Everyone here does. They’re all trying to look at you without turning their heads. I’m afraid there are gonna be a lot of
young actors going home with headaches tonight!” He faked an expression of deep concern and I laughed.

“I’m a big, big fan of
St. Joe’s
.” He patted his oversized stomach. “A big fan in every way.”

“Well, the show could sure use every fan it can get, big and little,” I said.

“Not what I hear—I hear your ratings are through the roof. I also hear they’re starting contract re-negotiations.”

“You hear right, sidekick,” I replied. I was amazed. How did people find these things out? It was beyond me.

“I guess your Emmy nomination came at the best possible time.”

“I guess so.” I changed the subject quickly. “So, tell me, what does a sidekick usually drink?”

“Well, this sidekick drinks Diet Coke—I’m in recovery
and
on Weight Watchers. Pretty pathetic, huh?”

I laughed again.

Jamie came up behind me, put his arm around my waist, and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I leaned into him.

“I see you’ve met Bobby,” Jamie said.

“I certainly have!” I replied.

“Hey, brother,” Bobby said.

Bobby and Jamie did what I always call the “manly man hug.”

“Just getting to know your lovely lady,” Bobby said. “She’s as quick as she is beautiful.”

“Oh kind suh, don’t make me blush,” I said in my very best Scarlett O’Hara accent.

Jamie looked at me and said, “I’m a damn lucky guy, I know that.”

At that moment I felt wonderful. I was happy that Jamie’s career was finally taking off. In the past, there had been some uncomfortable moments on the red carpet when he’d been pushed aside when people wanted to get to me. I tried my best to make him feel as comfortable as I could, but sometimes with everyone wanting to speak to me at once, it got difficult.

After those nights, Jamie usually went into one of his funky moods for days. But not tonight—this was his moment and I was happy to be on
his
arm for once.

“Hey, guys, how’re you doing?” A pretty blonde girl came over and stood between me and Bobby. She was about 5’8”, with long, stick-straight hair and a smokin’ hot body. She was wearing an exceptionally short Marc Jacobs black strapless silk seersucker dress with a sweetheart neckline. A thin black band of silk was tied at her waist. I remembered seeing her in an episode of
Mad Men
a couple of years ago. I was pretty sure she played a slutty model. I couldn’t remember if she was any good or not.

“Hey, Natalie, how’re ya doing? Ready for the shoot? ” Bobby asked. I noticed that even though Bobby was talking to her, he was staring at her boobs. Which, in all fairness to my newfound friend, she had put out there, as my mother would say, on a silver platter for the whole wide world to see.

“Yep, can’t wait to start.” She looked at Jamie and gave him a lingering kiss on the cheek. “How’re you doing, Jamie?” He blushed.

“Cool, really stoked to start. This is my girlfriend, Lily. Lily, this is Natalie. She plays Cassandra in the film.”

“Jamie’s leading lady and love interest.” She beamed at me.

I shook her hand. “Sounds like we have something in common.” The guys laughed. Natalie totally ignored the joke and moved closer to Jamie.

“Jamie, do you know what time the cars are picking us up for the airport tomorrow morning?” She took a sip of her martini.

“About six, I think,” he said.

“Jamie, you live on Pacific Coast Highway, right?” she asked.

“Yep.” He answered her, but glanced at me.

“Well—why don’t we take one car—save the film a couple of bucks? We can also go over our lines and get a head start.” She put her hand on his shoulder. Jamie looked uncomfortable. My radar started kicking into high gear.

“You know, Natalie, that’s way too early for me to talk, much less run lines. We’ll have plenty of time later on.”

“You’re right; it’s a long plane ride, and a long shoot,” she said.

Just at that moment, the director of the film, Pete Larson, came over to us, shook hands with the guys, and kissed both Natalie and me. Years ago, he was the assistant director on a film I had starred in, so we were old friends.

“Hey guys—how’re you all doin’? Congrats on your nomination, Lily. Good work, doll!” he said.

“What nomination?” Natalie asked.

“Miss Lily here got an Emmy nod for her role on
St. Joe’s
,” Bobby replied.

“Oh, I thought you were talking about the Oscars,” she said dismissively.

Pete ignored her. “I’m going to be rooting for you, for sure. It’s in a few weeks, right?”

My stomach flipped. “It is,” I replied.

“Well, we’re gonna do our best to shoot around this guy for a couple of days, so he can go.” He pointed to Jamie. “We’ve already started working it out—that is, if he’s going to be your date. If not, and you want a
really
good looking guy, I can get my tux out of mothballs and you can walk in on my arm!” We all laughed. Pete was at least a head shorter than Jamie and about twice his size.

“Well, sounds good to me.” I pointed to the other side of the pool. “There’s Theresa over there. Let’s see if
she
thinks it’s a good idea for you to escort me to the Emmys.” Theresa was Pete’s wife. She and my Mom had become really good friends years ago. That’s how Jamie got the first audition. I had Mom talk to Theresa, who talked to her husband. I love Hollywood!

“Somehow, I don’t think she’d like the idea.” He paused a second. “Unless, of course, she could come, too.”

“She’ll have to wrestle Daisy to the death for her seat. And as we all know, Daisy can be tough,” I joked.

“That’s for damn sure!” Jamie agreed. Even though I’d said it first, it annoyed me a little that Jamie agreed so readily.

Pete put one arm around Jamie’s shoulder and the other around Bobby’s, and said, “Jamie, Bobby, I want you to come over and meet Nick Gallo, the lead stunt guy on the shoot. Make friends with him; he’s gonna make you two look like you actually know what you’re doing. Will you excuse us, lovely ladies?”

He winked at us and they walked away—leaving me with good old Natalie and her double D’s.

“You’ve been acting for a long time, right?” she asked.

“Right, since I was a kid,” I replied.

“You’re older than Jamie, right?” she asked.

“Right again.” Where was this going, I wondered?

“It’s good for him to have an older woman who’s experienced—to teach him the ropes, I mean,” she said innocently. “You know, like Tom Cruise and—shit—what was his first wife’s name?”

“Mimi Rogers,” I answered. “Natalie, I’m only two years older than Jamie. I certainly wouldn’t consider that to be in the older woman category.” I smiled.

“Oh, I’m sorry, you looked… I mean, I thought you were much older. My bad. I guess it’s ‘cause you’ve been around so much—in the business, I mean.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” I said. By this time I felt like dropkicking her into the deep end. “Natalie, I’m gonna go over to talk to Theresa. I haven’t seen her in a while.” I turned to walk away.

“I’m so glad you’re okay with me and Jamie.” She had my full attention.

“Excuse me?” I asked.

“Okay with the talk we had. I mean—he said you were.”

“What talk?” I asked. My radar was going off in all directions like friggin’ fireworks on the Fourth of July.