Dazzled (12 page)

“Man! Look at this place!” The taxi driver shook his head in awe. “Who you gotta sleep with to live in a place like this?”

That seemed a bit unfair. I mean, Lilia was really nice and not at all starry. But I guessed there would always be people who’d think that sort of shit. I wondered vaguely who they’d be saying I slept with to get this gig. Rhonda? The thought made me laugh, and Clare looked at me curiously.

I paid the driver, remembering Rhonda’s advice to tip well. Clare raised her eyebrows at my largesse. Okay, maybe I overdid it. I wasn’t used to having money – it was hard to get the balance right.

Clare stumbled slightly as she climbed out of the taxi, so I took her hand, all small and warm. She scowled at her sandals, and I glanced down at them in surprise. She normally wore sneakers – and I’d never seen her wear girly stuff like that, strappy and high-heeled. Perhaps that was why she was all over the place in them. It was pretty funny really, but unless I wanted her to punch me in the face, I decided it would be better not to laugh.

“Come on, then,” she muttered. “Let’s meet the great and the good – or the famous and the wealthy.”

I couldn’t help rolling my eyes – there was a bit of inverted snobbery going on. Ah hell, she’d be cool when she met Lilia.

But when uniformed staff greeted us at the front door, Clare wasn’t the only one with nerves. Holy shit! This was seriously rich. Lilia had a butler?!

“Miss Purcell is by the pool, madam, sir. This way.”

Clare threw me a look and tightened her grasp on my hand. For someone pretty small, she had a grip like a WWE wrestler. Same sort of personality, too.

The house was jammed with people, and there were some seriously hot women there. I started getting a bit warm under the collar trying to work out who’d got fake boobs and which ones were real.

“Miles, you’re drooling!” hissed Clare, and I snapped my mouth shut.

But, I mean, come on! Some of those bikinis were so skimpy they may as well not have been wearing anything. Oh hell, I was going to have a problem in a minute. I hoped the water in the swimming pool was cold – I was going to need it.

But poolside, things got even hotter. Or rather, the women got even hotter. Maybe it was like the Elizabethan royal court that Miss Delaney used to try and stuff into my brain during history lessons: the closer you were to the Queen, the more important you were. Minions had to loiter in the outer areas – and then I realized we were being ushered straight to the queen herself: Lilia Purcell, A-lister. Goddess.

She was lying on a sunlounger under an enormous palm fringed parasol. Her bikini looked like it had been spun from pure gold, and her lightly tanned skin was flawless. Oh my fuck. She was gorgeous.

“Hey, Miles! You made it. And you brought a
friend
?”

Even though I was concentrating on trying not to stare, I could still hear the slight inflection on the word ‘friend’. I guessed she was asking me if Clare was my girlfriend. Did that mean anything?

“Hi, Lilia. Thanks for inviting us. This is my friend Clare, from England.”

“How nice,” said Lilia, frostily.

“Charmed,” replied Clare, raising an eyebrow.

Oh, not good
. I was waiting for a referee to call, ‘Seconds out!’

The women eyed each other up, and the temperature dropped to just above freezing. Their body language reminded me of two cats on a fence – and they were stretching their claws.

I shuffled nervously from foot to foot, not sure what to do to calm the situation. Then Lilia sat up and inadvertently gave me an eyeful straight down her cleavage.
Fuck
. All rational thought was impossible.

“Miles, I need to talk to you about the script. Walk with me.”

It didn’t sound like a request.

Clare narrowed her eyes, and I shook my head at her slightly. I was trying to tell her,
This is work – I have no choice
, and I hoped she’d get the message. Wow, she looked pissed off.

Lilia grabbed my arm and led me away. Immediately, I was overheating just from the touch of her fingers.
This woman was hot!
And then I remembered that we were going to be filming sex scenes together. Yeah, I knew it would be PG13 but even so: her, me, bare flesh.
Shit!
How the hell was I going to deal with that? I knew my face was flushing and Miles Junior wasn’t exactly impervious to Lilia’s serious charms.

But before I knew it, she was introducing me to her friends and it gradually dawned on me that a good number of them were well-known – you know – famous. Not real stars like Lilia, but respected actors from TV.
This was so damn weird – me, here, with them
. I wondered vaguely where Clare was. Probably off having a good time somewhere. She knew how to enjoy her own company – always had. I kind of envied that.

“So, this is Miles Stephens, my new costar,” cooed Lilia.

I knew that my face had reddened further. I felt so fake, her calling me that. Of course, she knew it was bullshit; there was only one star here – and it wasn’t me. But it was cool of her to say it. That was Lilia: cool. Really fucking cool. And hot.

And then she rested a hand on my chest and my cock leapt to attention.

Clare

That Lilia was a complete bitch. She looked at me like I was some kind of slime on her fancy shoe, and then separated me from Miles with ridiculous ease. With those skills, she’d have aced any sheepdog trials. He didn’t even realize it was happening. That didn’t surprise me – he’d always been dense around women, bless him.

Actually, no. Not ‘bless him’! He’d abandoned me here with a bunch of vacuous strangers who all looked as if they were in need of a decent meal.

“So, what are you?”

“British!” I squawked, as an implausibly gorgeous guy leaned against the wall next to me. He wasn’t even wearing clothes. Well, swimming trunks, but that was all. He looked like a model – he probably
was
a model. And he’d waxed his chest. Mmmm, nice tattoo. Wonder how far down it went?

He smiled, and I was nearly blinded by the whiteness of his teeth.

“I guessed that,” he grinned.

How? What?

“I meant, are you an actress – or something?”

“Oh. Right. No, I’m a student.”

“Training to be an actress?”

“No, History and English Literature, actually.”

“Huh?” he sounded puzzled; he looked bloody gorgeous. Not as gorgeous as Miles, of course, and there was something calculating about his expression.

“How did you swing an invite?”

“I came with a friend. Lilia invited us.”

His eyes lit up like the
Chrysler Building. “Cool! You know Lilia?”

“Not exactly. Rhonda Weitz is my friend’s agent – she talked to Lilia’s agent. Or something.”

“Wow!
The
Rhonda Weitz – can you hook me up with her? I’m looking for new representation.”

“Er, I don’t think so because…”

I didn’t get the chance to explain further because he shrugged and walked off, flinging a “Take it easy,” over his shoulder.

How rude!

But as the afternoon wore on, the rubbernecking became of epidemic proportions. Every time I thought I was having a conversation with someone, the moment they found out that I wasn’t ‘in the biz’, they lost interest. It dawned on me that this wasn’t a social event – it was networking. Everyone wanted something. Were these really Lilia’s
friends
? Suddenly, unexpectedly, I felt sorry for her.

Now where the hell was the barbecue, where could I get a drink, and what had that maneater done with Miles?

Miles

Everyone was
so
friendly – Lilia’s friends were totally cool. They were all really interested, asking questions about the film: when would we start shooting; who was the cinematographer; what the schedule was – stuff like that. Luckily, Lilia fielded all those questions which was a good thing, because I was starting to feel buzzed by all the champagne. Every time I turned around, a waiter had refilled my glass. I didn’t even know how much I’d drunk. God, I hoped I didn’t say or do something stupid.

I wished Clare hadn’t buggered off and left me alone. I knew I’d said to her that this was mostly work – did I say that to her? Well, I was sure she knew, but I was starting to feel overwhelmed. All the people I’d met knew so much more about ‘the biz’ than I did. Everyone was either an actor or working on a script. They all had something ‘in production’ and everyone was dropping names like it was going out of fashion. They acted like they owned the world – and they all had great teeth.

Plus, they all seemed to know each other. I was beginning to feel as on-trend as a Betamax video in a Blue Ray world.

When Lilia took yet another phone call, I was relieved to slink away and take a breather from the intensity of the
niceness
. Everyone had been great – so why did it feel so fake? Maybe because
I was
the fake. Compared to everyone here, I had almost no credible experience, and that little voice of doubt that told me I was a talentless tosser was becoming deafening. I was regretting signing the damn contract – I was going to look such a bloody idiot.

It felt like everyone was staring at me, wondering what sort of loser Lilia had hooked up with; probably feeling sorry for her having to work with such a rank amateur. Fuck – I was losing it.

When my hands started to shake, I knew I had to get a grip.

Where the hell was Clare?

Then I spotted her by the buffet – of course. The amazing spread had hardly been touched.
Did anyone here ever eat?
I knew I should probably get some scran to ease up the effects of the alcohol but I was aware that filming was due to start in ten days and, according to both Hilda and Rhonda, I still need to lose more weight.
The camera adds 20 pounds.

But I could enjoy watching Clare eat.

“Hi, hon. Having fun?”

“Oh, just wonderful,” she snarled.

I was taken aback.

“What’s wrong?”

“How can you stand it?” she huffed at me, and I immediately felt irritated.
What was her problem?

“What do you mean?”

She waved her arms around. “This! They’re all so… so…
actory
.”

I couldn’t believe she was being so snooty.
This was my work
.

“
I’m
an actor, Clare.”
Trying to be.

She raised her eyebrows. “I don’t mean you, Miles. Obviously. It’s just that… oh well, never mind. How are you doing with Miss High and Mighty?”

“Lilia’s been really nice to me,” I said, my voice warning her off the bulldog routine. “It was nice of her to invite us.”

“Oh yes. Very
nice
,” she replied in a snarky tone.

Okay, now she was pissing me off.

“What’s your problem, Clare?”

“My problem, Miles,” she spat out, “is that this is all so fake and you’re just lapping it up. This place is really changing you – you used to laugh at people like this. Now you’re all…”