The Actor (2 page)

Her allegory
had one flaw: he did notice she was there, to the extent where he wouldn’t let
her go.

Calling the
restaurant crowded would be an understatement.

Oh my goodness,
look at all these people.

So many faces
familiar from TV, and so many journalists. She wasn’t aware of squeezing Marc’s
hand until he sent her a sideways glance and wrapped his arm around her
shoulders instead.

“Hey, don’t
worry, you’re here with me.”

Surely, his
breath against her ear would make her heart stop.

Miraculously,
it beat one more time and only took a little leap when he murmured, “Smile for
the camera.”

This time, the
flash didn’t even make her see dots.

If that ends
up in a magazine I hope mom won’t see it. I’ll never live this down…

Once seated,
she poked her food. Was she supposed to eat it? Did anyone else eat?

Marc waved his
fork at her with mock anger.

“Don’t give me
any of that shit, young lady. I have enough of it anyway.”

He leaned over
the table and whispered, “Yes, not eating gives them bodies to die for. Trust
me, I have screwed enough of them to know. They’re good lays, but you know what
happens to your brain without food? I get better answers talking to my car. It
has the sense to say Make U-turn Now.”

The Cinderella
story didn’t end with food.

Marc took her
on a tour, wrote autographs, and smiled. Before she knew it they were back at
his table, and between visitors, he had a million stories to tell. Most of them
started or ended with, “True story.”

Stop staring
like an infatuated school girl. He’s making all this shit up, and you’re just
fueling his ego.

It didn’t help.
She really was
that
impressed, and playing cool was out of the question.

A young,
bowing, and smiling couple from somewhere in Asia wanted to take their picture,
and he slammed his arm around her shoulders once more, producing a
million-dollar grin. Laura did her best to smile too.

Can they see
how awkward this is?

The way this
day was going people all over the world would wonder who she might be. It was
comical, but scary too.

This time, as
the smiling people backed away, he didn’t let go.

Should she
wriggle free?

He gave her a
squeeze, turned his face towards her, and mumbled into her hair.

“You know,
there’s this big party here tonight. Please come with me?”

Her heart beat
so hard, he must be able to hear it. No matter what his reason for asking might
be, she was clearly in over her head. His breath was hot against her skin, and
when she didn’t answer, he whispered, “Please, pretty Laura, don’t abandon me.”

Crap
.

How could
anyone say no when he was so close and so overwhelming?

What’s the
worst thing that can happen? He’ll leave you in a corner and stagger off with
one of the beauties. Take a chance, have some fun.

The inner
pep-talked helped.

“Okay. I’ll
come.”

He smacked a
kiss on her cheek, making her face heat, and his arms around her were too good.
Things like this happened to young, beautiful, and super thin models from
magazines. Not to her. It happened to people who could afford breast implants,
a real hairdresser, and fashion clothes, not to a woman closing in on her middle
age whose belly pouted out, whose thighs were too thick, who wore last year’s
clothes, and who colored her hair at home in the bath tub.

“So… When does
this party start?”

Hopefully, she
could take a bus to the hotel and change clothes without him forgetting about
her.

Marc waved the
question off.

“Soon. Hey,
would you do me a favor?”

“Sure.”

He hung a crew
pass around her neck and tucked a card key in her hand.

“Run up to my
room and get me some whiskey. It’s 1622. There’s an elevator right behind
here.”

“I… Are you
sure?”

His attention
was already on something else, and he didn’t answer.

Leaving the
convention the back way made her heart thump and her eyes darted from side to
side. Surely someone would see her, know she didn’t belong, and stop her?

There was a
security guard by the elevators, but he just glanced at the oversized badge
around her neck and nodded. She was still relieved when the elevator doors
closed, isolating her from the world.

Room 1622.
Would that be on the sixteenth floor? Did the building even have that many
levels? The elevator boasted two rows with eight buttons in each. Going to the
top…

I can’t
believe he trusts me to go to his room. I could be anyone, do anything. Or,
maybe he just doesn’t care.

When the lift
came to a smooth stop, she stepped into another world. The walls were light
blue, decorated with white woodwork and chandeliers, and the carpet under her
feet thicker than anything she ever saw.

“Wow. Luxury.”

She fidgeted
with the key card. Maybe the door wouldn’t even open. A place like this might
have a more advanced security system, designed to keep people like her out.

Do I want to
see his room? Hell yeah.

The lock
swallowed the key without effort or complaint. The door gave a little beep, and
an LED shifted from red to green. Right key, right room.

Instinct told
her to open the door carefully and peek in, but a housekeeper came down the
corridor, pushing a big cart with towels. She should probably look like she
knew what she was doing. She pushed the door open and stepped in.

“Whoa.”

It wasn’t like
any hotel room she ever saw. Large windows bathed the rooms in sunshine, and
the living room seemed bigger than her apartment. The carpet was so thick and
white that stepping on it with shoes must be a crime. She kicked them off right
inside the door.

Whiskey. She
was supposed to get whiskey, but surely no one would blame her for looking
around just a little? It was a once in a lifetime opportunity to glance into
the life of someone rich and famous.

That must be
the bedroom. I wonder if he has a naked girl in there.

She pushed the
door open anyway and peeked in. It was empty, except for some shirts tossed
over a chair.

She should
leave his stuff alone, but touched them anyway.

“So soft.”

Would smelling a
shirt be sinful? Probably, but she couldn’t help herself.

Heavenly.

A number of
bottles stood on a wet bar to the side of the living room.

I should
have asked what kind he wanted.
 

And, what did
he want her to do with it? She couldn’t trot through the entire hotel with her
hands filled with bottles. She grabbed the only one that would fit in her
purse.

Stop
snooping around, Laura. He trusts you, and you need to live up to it.

Leaving the
room was still hard. She wanted to sink down in the sofa and put her feet up.
Maybe stay for a couple of weeks or a lifetime…

*****

When Laura
returned to the conference level, she expected her new friend to have vanished.
He was still there, and her heart skipped a beat when he greeted her with a
wide smile. How could his teeth be so perfect? Maybe they were veneers.

“Good girl.
Good choice.”

Good girl…
Good thing I’m not a dog or my wagging tail would give me away.

Time went by so
quickly. Now, when she allowed herself to relax and have fun they had a lot in
common, and shared the same sense of humor. Marc paused his recapitulation of a
fan who tried to steal shingles from his roof and fixed her with a stare making
her want to melt.

“Laura, I’m so
glad you’re here. You’ve made this day worthwhile.”

The kind words
made her cheeks heat.

“Well, you’ve
made my day too.”

Stop being
such a vulnerable little goose. Why don’t you just put a sign on your forehead
saying gullible?

Mentally
yelling at herself didn’t help at all. She was almost hypnotized by him.

Looking at his
watch, Marc frowned and put up the closed sign.

“Where the hell
did this day go? Are you ready?”

Most definitely
not.

“No… I need to
go change clothes, brush my hair…”

He held her at
arms’ length.

“Nonsense. You
look fine.”

“But…”

“I get it. It’s
a girl thing. Are you in this hotel?”

She shook her
head. Even if she were, she wouldn’t let him anywhere near the kind of room she
could afford.

I thought my
room was pretty nice until I saw his.

“Alright. Let’s
go to mine.”

He pushed her towards
the elevators.

What good is
that gonna do me?

Protesting was
out of the question. Maybe she had enough stuff in the handbag to make do. Or,
maybe she could just hide somewhere in his room. As large as it was he might
never find her. He might forget about her while he was searching.

Once in the
room, Marc headed for the bar.

“Want a drink?”

“No, thank
you.”

He shrugged and
stretched out on the sofa with his feet on the table. Where might the bathroom
be? Her investigation earlier in the day hadn’t taken her that far.

“Go through the
bedroom. The hotel has all sorts of girly stuff in there. If you need something
else, call room service and they’ll bring it up.”

Was her
confusion that evident?

Why is he
doing this for me?

She couldn’t
force the question over her lips; she hurried to the restroom instead. It
really was well stocked. Well paying guests were evidently cared for.

Once she opened
the make-up kit, it would just be thrown out anyway, right?

No harm in
keeping it?

No,
he
would know, and she forced herself to leave it well visible.

Staring at her
own reflection, she murmured, “I’m in Marc Allender’s hotel room. He’s waiting
for me.”

Putting words
to the fact didn’t make it any less surreal.

When she
stepped back into the living room, Marc had put on a fresh shirt. He squinted
in her direction.

“You’re
adorable.”

Should she
confess the theft of a hotel toothbrush? Naah.

“It’d feel
better if I could change clothes. I wasn’t prepared for an adventure like
this.”

“Well, you can
always take some of mine. It’d be cute, pretend a shirt is a little dress. Or
run down to the Hotel Shoppe and buy something. Here…”

Oh yes, just
like in Pretty Woman. They wouldn’t even let me through the door.

He fumbled for
his wallet and she shook her head.

“No, I’ll live
with it. Thank you.”

“Alright.”

He got to his
feet and headed for the door. Her stomach tingled when he held his arm out.
Wrapping her hands around it made her feel like Cinderella on the way to the
grand ball in the castle.

Wow. This is
really happening.

“Laura… I’m a
little drunk.”

“I know.”

“Do you still
love me?”

Whoa. Who
said anything about love?

“Of course I
do.”

He nodded,
looking content.

“Good. Let’s go
to a party.”

*****

The event was
exhilarating.

So many faces
were so familiar she almost thought she knew the person, until she realized it
was from TV or the movies. Marc was glued to her side, for better and for
worse. He seemed fascinated with knowing a normal person, and pulled her into a
crazy celebrity carousel where she soon confused peoples’ real names with their
characters’.

Some guests
seemed pretty serious, but others partied like rock stars.

Was this a
situation where people would throw TVs out of windows?

“This is great.
You’ll keep me from doing anything really dumb.”

The plan didn’t
work all that well. By the time evening turned into night Marc was very drunk,
and pulled her along everywhere he went, either holding her hand or keeping an
arm wrapped around her.

Any thought of
escape was futile, but to be honest, she didn’t really want to escape.

She wanted to
kiss him and rip his clothes off.

Bad Laura.
Bad, bad Laura.

Oh well, it had
to become morning eventually. Time usually moved faster than she wanted, and it
would return her to reality whether she wanted it or not.

Just after
midnight, a man walked by and gave her butt a good squeeze, making her yelp.

“Yikes, what
are you doing?”

He patted Marc
on the back.

“Hey, wha’cha
got here? Share her, will ya.”

Even her naïve
eyes could see many of the women in the room were groupies and it was probably
an honest mistake, but Marc was far past any logical reasoning. He punched the
other man right in the face with heart and soul.

“Oh no, don’t
fight, no…”

Dark blood
trickled from butt-pincher’s lip, down over his chin. The man felt his face
with an expression of pure surprise, and she could almost hear the impact of
his fist on Marc’s jaw.

Laura jumped
out of the way just in time and squeaked as her new friend fell backwards into
a serving cart. Glasses and silverware tumbled to the floor in a crash loud
enough to catch everyone’s attention.

Keeping you
from doing something really dumb, yeah, that’s working out well.

“Stop. Guys,
stop.”

She wanted to
crouch beside him and see if he was alright, but strong hands pulled her away.
Glancing over her shoulder, she looked into a familiar face. The man tugging on
her looked completely sober, and had played a colonel this or that on a show
she used to watch.

“Stay out of
it. Stay over here.”

It was sound
advice. Someone stepped in to help Marc up, and before she knew what happened,
at least ten people were bleeding, parts of the room were trashed, and sirens
pierced the air.

“Shit.”

The man next to
her lifted an amused eyebrow.

“This is your first
time around Marc, isn’t it? He has an affinity for trouble.”

“I’m not one of
those girls. I’m not.”

“I know. Just
sayin’.”

Her protector
patted her shoulder. “You have common sense, you’ll be alright. I’m leaving
now. You should too.”

He walked away,
quickly yet without looking like he was in a hurry.

Go with him,
get out of here!

The voice of
reason fell quiet when her sense of duty choked it with a pillow.

She should stay
by Marc’s side.

He got into all
this trouble for her.

It might be misguided
chivalry, but it was more than anyone else ever did.

Her efforts to
stay with him were thwarted by the crowd pushing her away until she had her
back against the wall. Police officers marched in, pulling people outside.
Peeking between well-dressed bodies, she saw Marc throw up on an officer’s
shoes.

Great.
That’ll speak in his favor…