Release the Stars (3 page)

“Charlie is joining us for drinks,” Andrea said to Liz.

“Awesome. Let’s go, lesbos,” Liz said.

In New York, Charlie had hung out with a group of lesbians occasionally, but the vibe among them had been completely different than the one she got from this group of women at night fall. For all the shows it put on and its immediate fakeness, LA offered much more breathing room than New York. The canyons here were nature-made, as opposed to being a valley between two blocks of high-rise buildings.

At the bar, Charlie got involved in a long conversation with Andrea. Still, as her level of drunkenness increased, it became harder and harder to keep her eyes off Josie. While Andrea visited the washroom, Charlie quickly pulled Liz to the side and asked, “On a scale of one to a hundred, how lesbian is Josie?”

“Josie, huh?” Liz said, pulling her lips into a pout. “Is that the kind of woman you go for?” She pouted even more. “She’s a lovely girl, really, but I’ve never really seen her with anyone longer than a few months. But, to answer your question, I think I can safely say she’s a ninety-nine.”

“What about the other one percent?” Charlie slurred her words.

“Nobody is a hundred percent, Charlie. We don’t live in that kind of dreamworld.” Liz slapped her on the shoulder as if she’d made a big joke. Charlie failed to get it, although she could, somewhere in the depths of her intoxicated mind, guess that Liz was ridiculing her percentage system.

“Look, Liz, I’m going to get out of here. I had a bit too much, and we have a big day tomorrow at work.”

“You betcha,” Liz said. “I do hope we can get Elisa. How super freaking awesome would that be?”

“It would be out of this world. Let’s sleep with our fingers crossed.” Charlie drew Liz into a hug. “Thanks for inviting me. I had fun.” Charlie said her goodbyes to the rest of the team, ignoring the look of disappointment on Andrea’s face, and lingering in Josie’s space perhaps a bit longer than necessary for the exchange of a farewell.

She walked home in a bit of a zig-zag line, and further pondered what a coup it would be for
Underground
to bag Elisa Fox in its lead role. Then her thought process was rudely interrupted by the chime of her phone with a message from Nick.

How was muffball practice?

Charlie was wasted enough to ignore his comment. She texted back that she’d had fun. By the time she reached her house, she received another text from Nick.

Not as much fun as you’re going to have this Saturday when you’ll be my date at Ava Castaneda’s dinner party.

Charlie’s mouth fell open. What was he talking about? Another text quickly followed.

You can stop drooling now. Jason can’t make it and you’re the next best thing. Go shopping for something fancy.

CHAPTER THREE

“You’re really not playing the cruelest prank in the world on me?” Charlie asked for the umpteenth time.

Nick’s car service had picked her up in a town car, with Nick already in the backseat.

“Charlotte Cross, please listen to me. Not even I could be so coldhearted as to trick you into believing you’re going to meet the woman you’ve been lusting after for years. I do have standards. I don’t mess with people’s crushes like that.”

“I’m so nervous.” Charlie squeezed Nick’s knee between her restless fingers.

“It’s just a casual dinner. Relax. She’s the most divine cook. It’s going to be wonderful.”

“Who else is going to be there?”

Nick sighed. “I told you. I don’t know.”

“Does she know I’m coming and not Jason?”

“Yes.” Nick put a hand on hers. “She’s looking forward to having you, but Char… just one tiny word of advice.”

“Yeah?”

“When you’ve had a few, you have a slight tendency to start going on about,” he curled his fingers into air quotes, “‘one hundred percent lesbians.’ If you could save that for another night, that would be great.”

Charlie was momentarily lost for words. “I don’t really go on about that so much?” she said in a small voice.

“When you have some booze in you and your filters, erm, stop filtering the way they should. I’m saying this as a friend, okay? Please don’t take offense.”

“I won’t.” Charlie was definitely offended. More than that, she was embarrassed. She racked her memory for times when she’d mentioned the subject. There were one or two nights that she could remember bringing up how she would never date a woman again who didn’t have a proven track record of being a lesbian. Not that she would go exclusively for gold stars, but she had to do something, even if it was ridiculous. She couldn’t handle another breakup like the one from Jo.

The car wound its way up the coastal highway toward Malibu, where Ava’s house was located.

“You’ve gone all quiet.” Nick said it in the voice his TV alter ego often employed to get something he wanted. “That really wasn’t my intention. Come back to me, my friend, please come back.”

Charlie waved him off, straightened her spine, and focused on the fact that within fifteen minutes she’d come face-to-face with Ava Castaneda. The gorgeous Latina wasn’t only a former model, she’d also hosted the same popular cooking show
Knives Out
for the past fifteen years. An impressive feat in the current TV landscape. Charlie wasn’t much of a cook herself, but she was a loyal viewer nonetheless because she needed her weekly dose of ogling the tall brunette.

“How did you meet her again?” Charlie asked as the car pulled up to an impressive driveway leading up to a high fence.

“Nick Kent and company,” the driver said into the intercom, and the gates swung open.

“I’m gay and famous, darling. Everyone wants to be my friend, especially the mega-gorgeous.” He leaned over and whispered in her ear, “That includes you, by the way.”

Charlie knew he said it to give her a confidence boost.

A few moments later, they stood in front of Ava’s surprisingly modest house. It wasn’t a small, humble abode by a long shot, but it wasn’t the mansion Charlie had expected either.

“Nickie!” Ava walked out of the front door, arms open wide. She wore a long, off-white dress that highlighted the bronze color of her skin sublimely.

Charlie hadn’t even said hello and she was already trying to catch her breath.

“Hello, beautiful.” Nick threw his arms around Ava. Charlie waited silently. It was a real hug between friends, not one of those halfhearted Hollywood embraces she’d experienced too often since moving to LA.

“And you must be Charlotte,” Ava said after she and Nick broke away from each other. Charlie had expected an outstretched arm for a handshake, but instead Ava pulled her into a hug as well. “Welcome to my home.”

“It’s an honor to be here,” Charlie mumbled. “Please, call me Charlie. Even my own mother hasn’t called me Charlotte since I was ten.” Because of the nerves running amok in her system, Charlie was unable to enjoy the warmth of Ava’s embrace. She curved her arms delicately around Ava’s shoulders, as though Ava was made of the most breakable porcelain. “I am such a big fan of yours.” Charlie had heard the same words tossed around far too often in this town, so they sounded a bit trite, even though she meant them with all her heart.

“And I of you. I heard about Elisa Fox joining your show. That’s quite something.”

“It sure is,” Nick chimed in.

Ava rested her gaze on Charlie for a few more seconds. It was as though Ava glowed under the fading evening light. Charlie had never seen anyone as beautiful in person before. Ava’s dark brown eyes seemed to look straight into her heart—a ridiculous and unsettling sensation.

“Do come in.” Ava led the way inside and then outside again to a back patio overlooking the ocean. “The other guests have arrived already.”

Ava’s house was appointed stylishly, but not lavishly. Unlike the size of the house, this was exactly what Charlie had expected. The view of the ocean, however, was nothing short of astounding.

“Nick, you’ve met Eric and Sandra before.” They rose and beamed smiles at Nick and Charlie. Charlie recognized Eric as the head judge of
Knives Out
and, if the specialized press was to be believed, Ava’s on-and-off boyfriend.

Eric, Nick, and Sandra hugged, then Ava introduced them to Charlie.

“Sandra’s my publicist, and you might recognize this gentleman.”

“I most certainly do.” Charlie exchanged quick cheek kisses with these people she didn’t know, then tried to figure out if, perhaps, Eric and Sandra were an item.

After they’d all sat down, Ava poured Cristal from a bottle she kept in a fifties-style ice bucket next to her chair.

“Thank you all for coming.” Ava made a point of clinking her glass against all four of theirs and making eye-contact while doing so. A part of Charlie melted when it was her turn. Every other woman she’d ever been vaguely interested in, and even the ones she’d had actual relationships with, faded in comparison to the gorgeous woman sitting across from her.

That didn’t take very long
, a mocking voice inside her head said.
Five minutes in her company and you’re smitten like a teenager.
Charlie couldn’t argue. She didn’t want to either. She just wanted to appreciate the elegant way Ava disposed of the bottle and crossed her legs to reveal a bit of smooth thigh through the split in her dress.

Nick had nothing to worry about. Ghosts of her past were very unlikely to haunt her tonight—Jo Cook was all but forgotten. Charlie was perfectly content just reveling in Ava’s grace and beauty.

“How do you like Hollywood?” Ava asked, later, when they sat at the outside dining table. Ava had insisted that Charlie sit facing the ocean. The splendor of Ava Castaneda against the backdrop of the sun setting over the Pacific affected Charlie so deeply she could barely swallow her food.

“It’s… interesting,” Charlie said.

“If you ever need a publicist,” Sandra interjected, “I’m your woman.” She was pleasant enough. She and Eric hadn’t displayed any signs of being involved with each other. Nor had Ava and Eric, for that matter. Perhaps, for once, Charlie wasn’t the only single person at the party.

“I’ve read all the
Underground
books,” Ava said. “I can’t wait to see what it will look like on TV.”

This took Charlie aback. “You have?”

“Of course. Any book about an all-female, ass-kicking, clandestine spy agency is right up my alley.” Ava fixed Charlie with that look again. “I wasn’t lying when I said I’m a fan. In fact—and no offense to your lovely husband, Nickie—I was delighted when Nick asked if he could bring you tonight instead of Jason.”

“Please, Ava, stop. This one will be unbearable on the way home,” Nick said.

“Are they changing the sexual preference of Aretha from lesbian to straight like Hollywood execs love to do?” Sandra asked.

“Absolutely not.” Charlie shifted position in her chair. “I made it clear from the very beginning of negotiations that no one would get the rights if they had that intention.”

“Hear! Hear!” Nick faux-clapped his fingertips together. “More gays and lesbians on TV!”

“And this is cable, so you know, the limits to what we can show are not as constrained.” Charlie remembered the scene they had constructed in the writers’ room the day before, of the chief spy Aretha questioning a person of interest in a very
interesting
manner.

“I literally want to bounce up and down in my seat right now. That’s how excited I am.” Ava looked deep into Charlie’s eyes again, and this time, with quite a few glasses of champagne and wine swirling in her blood, Charlie couldn’t keep from blushing when Ava asked, “When is the premiere?”

“I’m not sure I’m allowed to say yet. The network hasn’t released that information.”

“Oh, come on.” Ava snaked her hand across the table and put it on Charlie’s. “Your secret is definitely safe here.”

Charlie couldn’t look away from Ava’s hand cradling hers. She would never be able to wash that particular patch of skin ever again. Ava only let her hand linger briefly, but she was clearly a tactile person who expressed her emotions—and impatience—through lots of hand gestures. Charlie was wise enough not to look for a deeper meaning behind it, but the fire that had been lit when Ava threw her arms around her earlier, flared even higher.

“Okay, well, if you all pledge to not repeat what I’m about to say…” She glanced around the table. Eric looked a bit absentminded, as though not very interested in the TV show Charlie was working on, while Ava and Sandra looked quite excited about it.

“My word is my bond.” Ava presented two out-stretched fingers.

“I’m a publicist. My job is basically keeping other people’s secrets. Usually far dirtier than the premiere date of a much-hyped show. So yes, of course, you have my word,” Sandra said.

“Yes, yes,” Nick said. “Someone on the crew is going to leak this soon, anyway. Just get on with it. No need to make such a fuss.”

Charlie shot him a stern look before speaking. “Negotiations with Elisa have been on-going, and we had a back-up in case she pulled out last minute, so we start shooting the week after next.” Charlie wanted to follow Ava’s example and bounce up and down for a while at the prospect of seeing her words come to life on screen. “The premiere date is approximately seven months from now on Sunday, January seventeenth.

“No.” Ava groaned. “Do I really have to wait that long?”

“I think we all know patience is not even considered a virtue in this town. It’s more a bare necessity,” Eric said.

“Speaking of,” Ava said, “I won’t keep you in suspense about the main course any longer.” She got up and headed for the kitchen.

“Do you need a hand?” Sandra asked.

“No. All my guests ever have to do when they come here is relax,” Ava shouted from the doorway.

The starter had been scallop ceviche, and Charlie was curious as to what Ava had concocted for the main, but she could hardly claim she was hungry. Tipsy, yes. Mesmerized by Ava, for sure. Her stomach was in tatters.

Ava came out of the house carrying the entrée of lamb tagine, and despite her lack of appetite, Charlie finished it to the last morsel. She’d rather face an uncomfortable feeling in her stomach than be impolite by not eating Ava’s food.