Reality Check (16 page)

I
'm leaving. Leaving.
That's what Charly told herself while she packed her bag and searched for Marlow's collar. “Yes, I'll hold,” she said to the front desk, then waited for someone to come on the line who could help her.

“This is the manager, ma'am. How can I help you?” a pleasant voice inquired.

Charly stood tall, as if he could see her. “I'm checking out early, and I need a car to come get me and my dog. The really nice girl who answered, well, she's new and doesn't know if the local cabs around here allow dogs to ride outside of a carrier. Can you find me a car that does, please? I'll be waiting,” Charly said, then hung up the hotel phone. Her eyes raked across the room and scanned her cell for a second; she contemplated calling Mr. Day to complain about her suddenly short screen time, but thought better of it. He must have been aware that she wasn't included in the Virginia taping. Mr. Day had known everything since she'd met him, so why would he be clueless about his own show?
The Extreme Dream Team
had been his idea.

Her phone danced on the bed.
Annison
scrolled across the touch screen. Charly waved her hand in dismissal. She couldn't prove it, but something told her that Annison was behind her camera time shrinking and Marlow being flown with the baggage like she was a thing, not a companion. Charly sucked her teeth. She was the last person Charly wanted to talk to, but she had to admit she was curious about what the girl wanted. She shrugged. “Whatever. Right, Marlow?” she asked her faithful friend. The cell vibrated again. This time Liam's name popped up, and she felt compelled to answer.

She leaned over the mattress and picked up the phone. “What's up, Liam? Didn't really get to spend a lot of time with you today. Did you miss me?” Her tone was sweet, but her words were laced with hidden sarcasm.

Liam was mumbling to someone on the other end of the phone, his hand over the cell's microphone, muffling his voice. Obviously he wasn't alone. “One second, love,” he said to Charly.

The cell vibrated in her hand, startling her a little. She pulled it away from her ear and looked at it. It was Annison again. She pressed Ignore, then sandwiched it back between her head and shoulder.

“Charly? Love?” Liam called her. “Are you there?”

Charly nodded. “Yes? What's up? Who were you talking to?” she managed to get out in one breath while resuming her packing.

“So you're purposely ignoring Annison's calls then, Charly?” Liam asked, then laughed harder than Charly had ever heard him. He was coughing while he giggled, and she was sure he was holding his stomach, doubled over. Then he started choking, or at least he sounded as if he was. Charly shook her head, then realized that she had joined him. She was just as tickled as he; she just didn't know why, other than because she couldn't help it.

A loud banging on her door pulled her attention away from Liam and his infectious laughter. “One sec,” she whispered into the phone, then stiffened.

“Just open the door already, Charly. You can ignore my calls all you want, but I know you're in there,” Annison said from the other side of the door.

“Just open the door, love,” Liam urged, still tickled. “It's us. Me
and
Annison. Sully will be by after he eats.”

Charly rolled her eyes. How dare Liam set her up like that? Something should've told him that she didn't want to be bothered with Annison and that she'd been disregarding Annison's attempts at communication with her for a reason. Ivy League schools didn't roll out the green carpet for nothing, so Liam was too intelligent not to catch on. Better yet, she knew he was smart enough to purposely not tell Annison that Charly had no conversation for her.

Reluctantly, Charly opened her hotel room door. She looked from Annison to Liam without so much as an apology or a guilty feeling in her body. She didn't feel bad for igging her costar—she felt pissed and betrayed.

“Why the 'tude, Charly?” Annison asked, then put Doll on the floor. Her voice was soft, not accusatory like Charly would've imagined it'd be. If Annison had treated her the way she'd just treated Annison, her words wouldn't have sounded so sugary.

Ignoring Annison's question, Charly looked at Doll, then smiled. Doll and Marlow would prove to be just the diversion she needed as she watched them romp around on the floor.

“Wow! You must be really angry,” Liam said, walking past her, then going over to the bed and plopping down. He picked up a shirt. “What are you doing, packing or finding something to wear tonight?” he asked, roaming his eyes over the mess she'd made on the bed. “Oh. A suitcase. Guess that means you're packing then.”

Charly's hotel phone rang. She looked over at it, then ignored it. She didn't know why she was so popular all of a sudden, but she could do without it. Her day had been horrible, and her week hadn't been too fabulous either. She did want to be famous, just not all the time.

Annison walked over to her and purposely bumped her shoulder into Charly's. “Well, at least I'm not the only one you're ignoring,” she said, biting back a smile. “But if I were you, I'd answer it. It's important. Call me psychic,” she advised.

Charly cut her eyes at Annison, then threw Liam a death stare. They were up to something, and she didn't like it, whatever it was. The two of them had never been close before, so she didn't see the reason for them being so friendly now. She walked over to the makeshift desk that was attached to the wall. “Yes,” she answered, picking up the hotel phone.

“Charly? I know you're upset, and you have every right to be. I don't know what happened today, but I can promise you that it won't happen again.” It was Mr. Day. His breathing was heavy, like he was out of breath, and the tone of his voice said he was more than angry. He was irate. “I talked to the . . . never mind. Let me deal with the executive office; the business end is for adults. Now, can you do me a favor? Please tell Annison and Liam that you're okay. They decided they're going to boycott the next taping if you're not involved the way you should be. Especially Annison, who made it a point to call the exec offices, and without her . . . well, you know,” he said, then hung up the phone before she could say a word.

Annison walked in front of her as Charly put the phone back on the hook. She crossed her arms, then sneered a little. “Well? Say it . . .”

Charly reared back her head, knowing what
it
was, and hating herself for assuming her being excluded from the rest of the Virginia show was Annison's fault. She calmed herself, then made her shoulders relax. She shook her head. “Okay. I'm sorry, Annison. I don't know why, but I thought it was you.”

Annison shrugged, then sat on the bed. She stretched out her body next to Liam's and propped her head on her hand. “Why? Why does everyone always think I'm such a bad person?”

Liam laughed. “Really, Annison? You don't know?”

Annison shook her head. “No, it's just kind of always been that way. Ever since I was little, people always assumed I was the bad guy. I think because I was popular and on television—people always mistake me for having that only-child syndrome.”

Charly scratched her head, then looked at Liam. He shrugged. “Aren't you the only child?” he asked Annison.

“Aren't you?” Charly parroted.

Annison laughed, covering her mouth. “No. I have two brothers and a sister, and they're all younger, so, if you ask me, they're the spoiled ones. They were handed everything—including careers. I'm the one who made us famous; they made it because of my name and fight to the top. So, really, I'm the only one who has to work for a living.” She threw Liam a look. “Out of curiosity, Liam, a few seconds ago you looked like you know why people assume I'm the bad guy. Share.”

Charly looked at him, waiting. She didn't know why Annison was always assumed to be the bad guy, and now felt guilty for having chalked her up to being a devil who did evil without reason. She'd begun to equate Annison with meanness, like
tiger
with
stripes
. Some things just went together. She knew it was unfair, but hadn't been able to help it with Annison. Certain people just triggered certain things—like Mason now triggered her guilt and school principals triggered respect. She wanted to kick herself to check herself. She, of all people, should've known better. Back in Illinois, she'd been mistreated because people thought that she thought she was better than others, when that hadn't been the case at all. She'd just had a case of the Ambitions, and it made others feel
less than
because Charly was always pushing forward. “Yes, Liam? Please do. I'm curious because it's happened to me too. I've been a victim and also guilty of hanging the innocent.” She flashed Annison an apologetic smile, which Annison returned.

“Okay, here's why,” Liam offered, nodding. “But after this, we have to get ready for the party. The reason everyone convicts you of crimes, Annison, is the same reason they've convicted you”—he pointed to Charly—“and will convict you even more now, Charly. So both of you pay attention to this. You're both stars, and beautiful ones at that. People love to hate celebrities and they hate to love them too. Think about it.” He eyed Charly. “Look what the tabloids did to us. And we can't blame pretty little Annison here. We know for a fact that she was in bed, half dying from food poisoning.”

Charly's hotel phone rang again, and she remembered she'd called the front desk. Quickly, she answered. “Sorry . . . I won't be needing a car after all. But do you know of any great local dog sitters who'll pet sit in my room?”

C
harly sat near a cove, sticking her feet in the tide that rushed to the shore with nighttime intensity. Her ankle-length skirt was pushed up to her thighs, covering her swimming suit–clad body. Just about everyone else seemed comfortable, but she was too cold to walk around half nude. She didn't care if she was on a beach or not; she wasn't going to freeze for anyone, not even the local entertainment reporters who were there to interview the crew. From where she sat, she could see everyone having a good time, and wished she could join them. Sure, she could physically be there with them, doing the exact same things they were doing, but mentally she couldn't participate. Something was still off, and not knowing why she'd been cut from the Virginia taping and why Marlow had been restricted to riding with airplane luggage baffled her. Mr. Day had said that the ratings had skyrocketed because of her and that the network executives had fallen for her, so why would she be practically cut out of the show?

“You okay, love?” His voice startled her. “What, you're missing your dog too much? Don't worry. She's got an excellent dog sitter,” Liam assured her.

She'd been so busy concentrating and trying to figure out what went wrong, she hadn't heard Liam approach. She nodded her head. “I'm good. I'm just trying to breathe for a minute. I'm not really feeling the party.”

“You or Annison. Did you hear all that commotion she was making? Seems she left her phone at the hotel, and is trying to send someone to get it. Guess her flunkies aren't going for it tonight.” Liam stepped out of his shoes, then rolled up the bottoms of his jeans. “You mind?” He sat next to her and extended his feet until they were stretched past hers, then tried to touch his ankles, stretching. “I'm too tight from working out,” he explained, unable to complete the stretch. He leaned back on one elbow, and drew in the sand with his free hand. Charly could tell he was thinking or planning something, she just couldn't tell what. “I have something to tell you,” he said, then stopped dragging his index finger across the damp beach. “Do you mind?” He looked at her with intense eyes that danced in the moonlight.

Charly nodded, watching him closely. She never could put her finger on what it was about Liam that attracted her, but it was much more than his accent and his looks. He'd thrown her off earlier by bringing Annison to her room unexpectedly, but she still trusted him for some reason. “I'm listening.” She sat up, then turned and faced him.

“You like me,” he said, smiling arrogantly and knowingly.

Charly reared back her head and laughed nervously. “Wow. That was a little too you-think-you-know-me. And about my boyfriend . . . ? Aren't you concerned that I have one?” she began, getting ready to tell him what had happened with her and Mason.

Liam shook his head in the negative. “I didn't bring him up, and no, I don't know that you have one,” he said sarcastically. “Do you, love? I don't see him anywhere around and I don't hear you talk about him. So how much of a boyfriend can he be?” He looked at her, then placed his hands on the ground and pushed himself up to his feet. Standing, he reached out to her. “C'mon, let's walk.”

Charly took his hand and stood. No, she didn't know. She didn't know a lot of things anymore, like who lied on her and Liam to the gossip magazine and was following them from city to city to take pictures; or what was going to happen to Stormy if her father didn't allow her little sister to move in with them when Charly returned to New York. She wasn't even sure about what happened with the show, though she knew Mr. Day was going to take care of it and she was going to have more camera time. Charly began to walk next to him, then noticed he was walking like he was in pain.

Suddenly he stopped, grinding his feet into the damp sand. A boathouse was close by and the party was far off, barely in sight, but muffled sounds could be heard. “I hate to do this, and I know you Americans frown upon it, but I have to warn you about something. And no, I'm not doing this because I want your boyfriend's position—even though I do—but I'm telling you this because you're my friend,” Liam said, looking her dead in the eyes.

Charly gulped. She hadn't told Liam that she and Mason had broken up. In fact, she'd tried to forget that day in the parking lot at Smax's because it hurt too much. She and Mason had been best friends once, and he'd treated her like a stranger. He knew she wasn't a fast girl; she was just ambitious about her career. Still, she couldn't believe Liam was going to drag Mason through the mud to make himself look better. She thought it was a cheap shot and had expected more from Liam. She put her hand on her hip and pursed her lips. “What? I guess you're going to tell me Mason's doing something wrong? Just like the tabloids said
we
were, huh?”

Liam smiled, then leaned forward. He shrugged. “I was going to tell you this.” He kissed her for real. It wasn't like the fake kiss someone had photographed from somewhere outside of the car at Whole Foods in Atlanta. It was a real-life, I-really-like-you kiss. “I was only going to warn you about me. I like you . . . I mean, I really like you, Charly. And I'm going to do everything I can to win you from him. He may be a cool dude, but I'm better for you. Trust me.”

Charly smiled. “Well, Liam . . .” she began.

“Hey, you two! There you are. Come on. Nobody has time to wait for y'all.” Sully's deep voice cut through the air. Charly couldn't see his face, but there was no getting around his rudeness, and she could make out his silhouette. It seemed that morning yoga had him chiseled. “Mr. Day's been looking for you,” he barked.

Charly turned and looked in Sully's direction. “We're coming!” she yelled back, then grabbed Liam's hand, pulling him along as she ran toward the party. “Hurry.” She looked over her shoulder, then her eyes moved toward the boathouse. Her eyes saucered and a chill climbed her. She stopped midstride and pointed. “Liam, do you see something over there?”

Liam laughed. “No, nothing but water and shadows and, of course, speedboats. I'm afraid that's that Illinois or New York coming out of you, love. You guys are so paranoid.” He stumbled.

Charly nodded. “Paranoid, or we just listen to ourselves. . .” She looked at Liam in the darkness. “Why are you in so much pain?”

Liam waved her away. “I told you back there. I've been working out too much without stretching. You saw I couldn't touch my toes.”

Charly laughed. “Well, you can call me paranoid, but I can call you stubborn. You need to do like Sully,” she said, stopping and putting her hands on her hips.

Liam reared back his head, and his voice changed. He was more serious than Charly had known him to be. “What do you mean, be like Sully?” The look he wore was one of disbelief. “If anything, Sully wants to be like me. He likes you.”

Charly laughed. “Nah . . . he likes my best friend, Lola. They've been talking a lot. A whole lot.”

Liam nodded. “Ah, that's good. That means I can be his friend again,” he joked. “Okay, maybe not. He's not a big fan of mine.” He shrugged. “Then again, Sully's not a fan of anyone. So, now, what about me needs to be like Sully?”

Charly grabbed his hand. “Yoga. If you did morning yoga, you wouldn't be in so much pain.”

Liam laughed. “Yoga's for girls. I thought I told you that before. Sully doesn't do yoga . . . he can't. Not while we're on the road—at least not with the girls.”

Charly threw him a nasty look. “That's sexist—”

“No, love. That's the rules around here. The girls do yoga—that's per Annison's dad—”

“What do you mean, per Annison's dad?” Charly asked. She knew Mr. Day listened to the parents, but even she thought Annison's dad having control over everybody was a bit much. Charly's dad called the shots concerning his daughter, not the crew, and her dad was not to be played with. “I get he's a big shot at the network, but why does her dad get to say what goes on with the cast?”

Liam laughed. He folded over and grabbed his middle, cracking up. “Not just a big shot. Since he bought his way into the studio last year, he's part owner and now the biggest honcho at the network. He doesn't just input, he now calls all the shots. All of them!” he said, straightening up. They began to walk again. “And trust me—no guys do yoga. Period. Her dad is so strict that he hired a private yoga instructor for his little girl, who travels with us. Daddy dearest doesn't want any boys to see his daughter in tights. There's nothing he won't do for her. Nothing. Including getting her that poor little dog that she neglects so much so she could look like a Goodwill Ambassador of rescued dogs.” He shook his head. “You know how much of a pet lover she is? She loves that dog so much that she's caged her up in that room and hasn't fed her in two days. I overheard that earlier.”

“What? Days? Locked in her kennel without food and water? She'll die,” Charly said, upset and even more disgusted.

“Yes. But what can I do? If I report her . . .”

Charly nodded. She got him. If he reported it, his career was as good as flushed down the toilet. Annison was dirtier than she'd imagined, but she could play dirtier. She wasn't afraid of Annison or her dad. It all was starting to make sense now. Her dad may not have the money Annison's dad did, and he may not have been in her life since she was born. But now that they were reunited, she knew without a doubt that there was nothing her father wouldn't do for her either, especially to protect her.

Charly stopped walking. She had to save Doll, and knew just how to do it. She grabbed her middle and moaned just a little. “I don't feel good, Liam. Do you mind if I skip the party?”

Liam eyed her. “You sure? You need me to call a doctor?”

Charly shook her head. “No, thank you. But can you apologize to everyone for me? I'm not going to be able to make it to the party. I'll see you at the hotel . . . in the morning. I need to get as much rest as I can tonight, so I'll be ready for the show tomorrow.”

She whipped out her phone, then sent a text: