CHAPTER FIVE
________
JAMES
Michael held a newspaper right under my nose, shaking it enough to make a point, but too fast that I couldn’t read the article.
“Your first night in London and this is what you do?” he shouted, making his round face red with fury.
Once again, damage control. I wasn’t sure what was happening, or what had happened, for that matter. I couldn’t even say where I was or what day it was. Everything was a blur. I hadn’t had the chance of a shower or coffee before Michael barged in my room to scold me like a child.
“Aren’t you going to say anything?” he demanded after a couple minutes’ silence.
“No, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I shrugged with every ounce of strength I had, which wasn’t much at that moment.
Michael didn’t utter a word. He walked off and came back with a stack of papers and magazines and threw them at me. I was on the front page of every single one of them. Some with decent pictures from the last interview, promising gory details inside. Others not so discreet and sporting my naked body running down the streets of London, a censored banner across my groin. This was bad. I closed my eyes as tight as I could, hoping with all my might that this mess would evaporate.
No such luck.
“What are we going to do about this?” I asked.
“We? We? What do you mean by we?” demanded Michael. “You are the one that needs to stop making a fool of yourself. You have a premiere that can give you future roles, but you’re willing to throw that away by doing shit like this.”
I had a flashback of the night, remembering small details that made me smile.
“What’s so funny?” Michael asked, his face recovering its usual pallor.
I shook my head, dismissing the question. If I told him the truth, he’d transform into the Tasmanian devil.
“Honestly? Do you think this is funny?” persisted Michael.
Knowing that he wasn’t going to let it go, I got off the bed.
“This situation isn’t funny, but what happened last night was,” I replied.
“Care to explain?”
I lifted a key that was nestled inside my jacket pocket.
Michael shrugged, not understanding.
“I won a bet. This is my prize.”
“You won a car? But you can’t drive.” Michael sounded tired.
“Not just any car. It’s Sean Kelly’s Lamborghini,” I replied.
“The boxer? Let me guess, you made a bet that you wouldn’t run around naked?”
“Not just run naked but also get caught,” I said, hoping he would understand and find it as hilarious as I did.
Michael shook his head in disbelief.
“It still doesn’t make it easier to fix this mess. At least you didn’t get arrested,” Michael said, as his phone rang.
While he disappeared to answer the call, I checked social media. The pictures were everywhere, spreading like wildfire, but on Twitter the comments from the fans stroked my ego. It didn’t look like a total disgrace.
“Helen and Jack should be here on the next flight. We’ll get the Calvin Klein advert out of the way, and when we come back, we’ll decide on the next step. It will, hopefully, be tonight after the Gary Smart show,” Michael said as he returned to the room. “We have an hour before the photo shoot. Please get ready, and I’ll send Ralph up to drive you.”
“Okay, I’ll have a shower and get some clothes on. Could you ask Ralph to bring some coffee and a bagel?” I pleaded.
“Salmon and soft cheese?” he asked as he wrote something down.
I nodded as I opened the wardrobe to check for clothes and asked, “What am I meant to wear for this thing?”
“Whatever, they will give you the jeans there. Sonja Novak will also be there.” I turned around to look at him, wanting to read his face as he continued, “The Czech model!”
Michael left the room, leaving me wondering the reason why Jack, my publicist, needed to come over. I couldn’t remember the last time I saw him in person.
At least I could meet my new assistant; that was a plus.
My mind drifted back to the filming for the Calvin Klein advert. It had been postponed three times, and I hoped we could get it over with. The raging headache I had wasn’t willing to go anywhere. Even after popping a couple of painkillers, the throbbing continued.
“Morning, McNair.”
Ralph opened the door without knocking and settled himself on the couch after handing me a paper bag and a takeaway cup of coffee.
“Morning, Matthews,” I replied.
“How can you eat that shit for breakfast?” he said, his nose scrunching in disgust.
“A bagel? A lot more people than you think eat bagels for breakfast,” I offered.
“Not the bagel. I meant the fish. How can you eat fish in the morning?”
I shrugged, not knowing how to answer, but took a big bite and closed my eyes. I could eat this every day.
Once I swallowed, I opened the bagel and took a small meaty bit of salmon, held it between my fingers, and placed it inside my mouth. “Mmm!”
“You are disgusting,” he said, looking away.
I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Wait a minute. This isn’t Scottish smoked salmon. This is Norwegian. How could you, man? You know I can’t eat that.”
I loved to wind him up, and this morning wasn’t any different.
His face reddened when he replied, “Oh no, no, no. Don’t you take that diva attitude with me.”
“What diva attitude? I can’t eat this shit. Go and get me another one. This time with Scottish salmon,” I ordered.
Ralph got up off the sofa and looked me straight in the eye. When he saw I wasn’t backing down, he turned to the door without saying a word.
Seeing how he was about to storm out of the room, I burst out laughing. “Ralph, I’m only kidding, man.”
He turned around and chuckled. “I knew that.”
“No, you didn’t. I had you convinced,” I replied.
Ralph cleared his throat and sat back down, saying, “Whatever, so is it Scottish salmon after all?”
“No idea, but it’s delicious.” I finished the bagel in two bites. “Could eat a hundred more.”
After licking the cream cheese off my fingers, I walked towards the minibar.
“Beer?” I suggested, ready to throw a can if Ralph agreed.
He shook his head and replied, “No, man, it’s only nine o’clock.”
Shrugging, I opened the tin and downed its contents in seconds. I could see from the corner of my eyes that Ralph had something to say. He sat at the edge of his seat with his lips pursed. He was dying to tell me it was too early to drink.
Not wanting an argument so early in the morning, mostly because of the thumping headache, I threw the tin in the bin and collected my jacket and room key. “Ready?”
Ralph nodded and followed me out the room.
________
A couple of hours later, John, the director, shouted, “Let’s take five, people.”
At his commanding voice, everyone, including actors, left the scene and went to the food tables. I didn’t. Not feeling particularly hungry, I decided to just pour myself a cup of coffee. The last few hours of filming and the lack of sleep had taken a toll, and I was in desperate need of caffeine.
“Do you need a pick-me-up? I have some Johnnie Walker in my room,” Sonja said, purring like a cat.
“Doesn’t seem like a bad idea,” I muttered, staring at her collagen-filled lips.
Sonja had lips that would make any man fantasize. Her pose—hand placed on her hip, lifting the white T-shirt to show a glimpse of her firm stomach—insinuated something other than Johnnie Walker. This day didn’t seem like a total loss.
Her changing room was less than ten steps away. I could imagine it being one of the stipulations in her contract.
She shut the door behind her and walked to the cupboard at the end of the room. She withdrew two glasses and a bottle of blue label. After pouring it into the glasses, she rummaged through her designer bag and took out what looked like a small poly bag filled with white powder.
“Want some?” she asked as she placed some of it on the table.
The scene took me unaware, not that I hadn’t been in the same situation before. A lot of people took drugs in Hollywood. There was always some of it going around at parties. It wasn’t for me, but I hated the peer pressure you felt when you didn’t.
“Nah, I think I’ll stick to the drink,” I said, taking a sip from my glass and waiting for her reaction.
She shrugged, took a ten-pound note from her bra, and rolled it. With a quick sniff, the coke disappeared. She wiped her nose and smiled. After taking a large mouthful of her drink, she sauntered my way. Her glossy black hair covered her slender shoulders.
“A few of us are going to a new club that’s just opened in London. Do you want to come with us?” she enquired.
She stood so close to me that I could see her dilated pupils. Her gaze moved to my lips as her index finger gently caressed them. Instinctively, I licked my lips, noticing their sour taste. She smiled and bit her bottom lip. Those lips. I could picture them all over my body. Getting my hand on the back of her neck, I drew her in and kissed her, feeling those juicy, wet lips against my own. I was so going to be there tonight, as soon as that interview was finished.
A knock on the door interrupted us. With a roll of her eyes, she opened it.
“Can I speak to James?”
Without letting her answer, I stepped in front of Sonja and saw Michael, his face flushing a darker shade of red. I knew he was angry, but he kept his composure. I smiled, showing my expensive pearly whites, knowing that would wind him up further.
“Jack and Helen have arrived,” he said, expecting me to pick up my things and follow him.
When I didn’t move a finger, he straightened his suit jacket and asked if I was coming.
“Sure, just let me pick up my drink here,” I replied.
I took my time, because I knew that even if I rushed it would take only two seconds after Sonja closed her door for him to combust.
“Can you not keep it in your pants for one day?” he grumbled, a step ahead of me.
“Can’t promise anything,” I replied.