Chapter 8

Zander

The maid greets me at the door, letting me know the security guard ratted me out immediately.

I should have known. I have no allies here. No one has my back or would risk themselves for me.

A thought rises unbidden where I don’t want or need it. Mia had. She’d risked her reputation, lied, and hid me when she didn’t have to.

I wasn’t holding a gun to her head; I wasn’t threatening her. She did it willingly.

My chest tightens as I stop in the entranceway. Everything is the same. It’s still the house that haunts my nightmares, still the location of some of the worst memories from my childhood.

The maid, a new one, is eyeing me much the same way most people who’ve heard about my reputation, with barely concealed distrust.

I walk past her, ignoring her wary expression, and head across the marbled floor towards the den where my father likes to do coke and prey on innocent actresses.

I pass the large portrait he forced me and Brooke to sit for. It’s a grotesque and fake representation of the happy family he pretends to have.

Ice is trickling through my body as I push the den door open. Cigar smoke curls into my nostrils, triggering multiple memories I wish I didn’t have.

His eyes are still as cold and calculating as they ever were. But no one ever sees that. They see the loving father, the man who produces heart-warming family-friendly movies.

No one sees the rages he flies into. No one sees the scars on his kids.

Brooke and I learned years ago to say nothing. Not react. To keep smiling.

And most important. Tell no one about the things we witnessed in this den.

Brooke and I don’t talk much anymore. It’s too painful, so she just keeps her kids away from dad, and only comes home at the holidays or for premieres when dad needs to project and reinforce his ‘good father’ image.

It’s a game. But one I’m no longer willing to play.

And as I take a seat opposite the hateful man sitting rigid in his leather chair, I see nothing but quietly contained anger I’ve run off the rails again.

He leans forward, cigar dangling between his thin fingers. “Where were you this time?”

I know I need to tell him what he expects to hear. The words roll off my tongue. “I got pretty fucked up. Woke up naked in a gutter East of LA. It’s taken me all this time to get back.”

His eyes narrow, but he nods slowly. “This was exactly what everyone expected to happen. You might be an adult now Zander, but you’re behaving like a child. And if you continue, you’ll force my hand.”

I swallow and choose my words carefully. “I just had a blowout. It won't happen again.”

He scratches his nose. “You’re one step away from conservatorship. You need to start seeing your doctor again, and you need to go back on your meds. Understand?”

And this time I do. Conservatorship means he takes over the running of my day to day life. It means I lose control of my finances and risk being put back in a hospital if I don’t do exactly what he wants.

I’m talking more to myself than to him when I extend my hand to the man I want to destroy. “I can do that.”

His fingers coil over mine; I take a small amount of pleasure in noting his grip isn’t as strong as it used to be.

I release it, and when he starts talking about his plans for my comeback and the way I can assist him, I know I won’t ever be free.

Which means I have to find out what went wrong at Lake Tranquillity.

***

Mia

Sunday 7.47pm

By the time I reach my apartment, I’m starving and ready to sleep for a week.

I drag myself up the stairs, thinking about the leftovers I have from the diner, and when my next shift starts.

I’m so exhausted; I can’t remember whether I agreed to work the breakfast shift or the dinner.

Either way, I’m going to be a wreck if I don’t get some proper rest. Since it’s as noisy as ever, with heated arguments from neighbors occurring on a regular basis, and drapes that barely cover the windows, I know I’ll need my eye mask and earplugs to get any sleep.

I stumble towards the door, thinking about the stillness and quiet of the lakehouse and have to force myself to stop thinking about Zander.

I push the key inside the lock, yawning, and barely able to keep my eyes open.

My roommate is home; I can hear her in the tiny kitchen which means she must be over the stomach flu that meant she couldn’t take the zombie role.

I dump my bag on the floor and lock the door behind me. A script is laid out on the coffee table, dishes are still there from Friday morning, and clothes, make up, and various things that should be in my roommate’s bedroom rather than out here are scattered everywhere.

I hide my irritation at Sally’s sloppiness and head into the kitchen. I nearly cry when I see the piles of dishes she’s used over the weekend.

Sally’s eyes narrow as I wave hello and open the refrigerator. “Where the fuck have you been?”

I grab the takeout container and don’t bother to heat it as I grab a fork. “I missed my ride,” I say between mouthfuls.

She grabs a bowl of fruit and follows me into the tiny living room. A deep frown is growing as she plonks into the chair opposite. “How’d you find Mark? He hit on you?”

I grimace as I swallow down three-day-old noodles and wishing I was eating something Zander had cooked.

I shake my head. “He called me a moron and a stupid bitch.”

Sally snorts. “Yeah. I told you. You’re not tough enough for acting. You’d be better off getting a job as a PA to an exec and taking the long route.”

I shrug, unwilling to reopen a discussion on how much I still have to learn.

She crams another bite of cantaloupe into her mouth. “So, where’d you end up sleeping?”

I swallow a lump of now very dry chicken. “Mark let me stay in the lake house until he could get me.”

She squints at me. “Did you fuck him?”

I pull a face and shake my head. The food sits in a solid lump as I screw up my face. “I can’t think of anything worse.”

Sally doesn’t look convinced. “Did you promise to?”

I gape at her, not sure I’m hungry anymore. “No, I did not.”

But she’s switching on the TV. “Oh, puh-lease. Stop looking at me like that. It’s no big deal. I mean, everyone gets on their knees at least once.”

I swallow hard, feeling sick we’re even having this discussion. “Well, I haven’t and I’m not going to.”

Her laugh comes out bitter. “Yeah, but you’re still wet behind the ears. You haven’t even done a sex scene yet. Once you have to strip off in front of a dozen people and dry hump a couple other naked actors, you’ll get over yourself. Fuck, some directors will audition you in private and in way worse ways than Mark ever would.”

I slump back in my chair as she flicks through the channels as if she didn’t just suggest I start prostituting myself like she seems to think is okay.

Her eyes slide to me. “Why don’t you come out with me tonight? I’m crashing a party in the hills. That’s where the real deals are made.”

It’s not the first time she’s suggested it. But I’m not in the mood to keep talking about it. “I have work first thing, and I’m exhausted.”

She rolls her eyes. “Sure thing, old lady.”

I ignore her jab at how boring she thinks I am, pull my weary bones out of the chair, and dump the remains of my food in the trash.

“I’m going to bed,” I mumble as I pick up my bag.

She waves her hand in acknowledgment as I leave her watching a gossip show. “Yeah. You do that. I’m going out soon.”

I should have guessed people would start mentioning it, but it still startles me when she yells out the door. “Shit. Did you hear about that Zander Cole guy? He’s hardly been in anything for ten years, he goes missing, and now he’s everywhere. But shit, he’s smoking hot…”

I pretend I didn’t hear her, throw my bag into my bedroom, and head into the bathroom.

I switch on the shower and clean my teeth as I wait for the water to heat. I groan at my washed-out complexion and limp hair.

With a sigh, I shrug out of my jeans, strip off my t-shirt and underwear. I step under the water, avoiding the large crack in the shower floor, and crank the heat so the shower can pour over my aching body.

The pressure is as awful as it always is. But it seems ten times worse after the luxurious shower inside the lake house.

When I’ve washed and conditioned my hair, I switch off the water before Sally complains I used it all and dry myself with a scratchy towel.

Tired and irritable, I stomp down the hallway and open my bedroom door. I stare at the messy double bed that sags and gives me backache.

And can’t help but think of the Posturepedic bed I slept on the last two nights.

But thinking about that leads me back to thinking about Zander, about how he tried to convince me Hollywood was a bad place to be, and that is not going to help me sleep.

I put my bag on my desk and rummage inside until I find my cell phone. I locate my charger and plug it in.

I press the on button and yawn as I wait for the phone to power up. I have a few messages, one from Mark, which I ignore, and one from Sally asking where I am.

Another is a voice mail, which makes my heart speed a little. I listen to the message, fingers ridiculously crossed as I wait to hear about the audition I went to last week.

I’m perfect for this part. Ironically, a schoolteacher who's a single mom.

“Yeah. Sorry, Mila. The director was looking for someone, um…less hippy and with more experience.”

She ends the call without a word. She couldn’t even get my name right. And hippy? What does that mean? Fat?

I glare at the phone, muttering to myself as I open my calendar.

I smother a curse that not only am I’m working early shifts every day this week, but I am working tomorrow morning.

I’ll need to be up at 4.30am to get to the diner by 6am when it opens.

Maybe I should look into working as an assistant? The hours are longer, but I wouldn’t have to get up at the crack of dawn.

My resume is sorely lacking. I’ve been going for auditions for six months now, and the closest I’ve gotten to a paid speaking part was the chance I wrecked by missing my bus.

Whatever Mark filmed on Friday is likely going to end up on the cutting room floor. No screen credit. A complete and utter waste of time.

Except for Zander…Nothing about Zander could ever be considered a waste.

If anything, not knowing more about him was a waste. Maybe if he’d been honest, and I still don’t understand why he wasn’t, we could have lasted longer than a few days?

I set my alarm and toss the phone on my desk and rub at my blurry eyes. I need to quit thinking about him. And I need to stay positive.

This is just a bump in the road. A slightly larger bump in the road than I expected when I came, but I can deal with it.

I just need to find another audition, another part, or a way to get introduced to someone important.

I can do that. I will do that. I have six more months before my self-imposed deadline expires, and I admit defeat and go back home.

I collapse into the bed, mattress springs squeaking as I grab my sleeping mask and try to block out the sirens, the music, and the arguing from my neighbors.

With a yawn, I try to get comfy, pull the covers up to my chin and try not to think about why Zander didn’t tell me he was an actor.

***

Zander

From inside one of the trendiest restaurants on Sunset, I squint as the photographer’s flash goes off.

Sitting at a table with uneaten food, near the window, I’m dressed in a tailored suit my father had custom made for my first public appearance.

My father is lurking, standing beside the currently unknown actress set to star in his latest project.

Dressed in a designer outfit, a spray tan, and with new veneers on her teeth, she’s all plastic smiles. And she should be smiling.

This little arrangement is going to propel her directly into the spotlight she wants.

It’s also going to give my father the added publicity and boost he needs after another box office failure.

One more flop, and even at his level, he loses the backing of the studio. He’s taken a gamble on this actress. I don’t need to think too hard on why he’s chosen her. Every time she looks in his direction, she’s looking for approval. It’s chewing at me that he’s so good at spotting girls with daddy issues.

Give it a few months, and I’ll be waking up to find her in the main house and eating breakfast with me.

If she can hold his interest that long.

The photographer finishes the shots he’s going to use alongside the formal announcement I’m back and looks over at the publicist my father hired a week ago.

“I’m all set. Everyone take their places.”

The second the photographer drops his camera, I relax my face and watch the actress get her final instructions from the publicist.

I glance at my untouched plate and see the script that’s been left for me. I don’t need to read it to know what I’ll have to say.

I’ve done similar a half dozen times in the last decade.

I swallow thickly as the actress, Chrissy something looks in my direction and takes her seat at the table.

A flickering of uncertainty appears before the false smile appears again.

She’s been told what to expect. But she probably thinks I’m as crazy as my father wants everyone to. But she’s not about to pass this opportunity up.

And I can’t afford to either. Not after going missing for a few days.

If I play this right, if I look like I’m visiting my doctor and pretend to take my meds, he’ll loosen his grip.

Chrissy’s plastic smile is back in place as the publicist leans down to whisper in her ear.

Dressed in a pink suit, and with a social media following bigger than mine, Jarod flashes a smile in my direction. “Nice to see you again, darling,” he says.

He knows I won’t air kiss or fake being happy he’s here, so I just blow out a sigh and ready myself for more publicity shots.

At least my father looks pleased as Jarod backs off so the photographer can move in for a closer candid shot. “Put your arm around her; you know the drill.”

Chrissy shuffles closer, an anxious expression on her face as I lift my arm and woodenly place it around her narrow shoulders.

Jarod isn’t happy, so he buzzes around, fluffing her hair and repositioning objects on the table, so the photographer gets the best vantage point.

Chrissy is rigid and looks as uncomfortable as I feel, but when Jarod is happy, and my father gives her the nod, her body relaxes into mine, and her smile becomes convincingly genuine.

She picks up her fork and freezes while the photographer directs her to look natural as she fake’s eating.

People have started to gather outside; more photographers tipped off are waiting for Chrissy and me to appear.

With enough photos from inside, Jarod checks his watch. “Okay, lovs, let's go make this worth everyone’s time and money.”

I get to my feet, dragging my heels as Chrissy checks her makeup, her outfit, and looks to my father for approval. “Do I look okay?”

He smiles warmly. “You look beautiful. The perfect leading lady.”

She nods eagerly and turns to look at me, and gingerly extends her hand.

I exhale, and at the icy look, my father is aiming in my direction, take her hand in mine.

***

Mia

Monday 9.15am

My legs are leaden, my skin feels as greasy as the food I’ve been serving and I’m overdue for a break when Sally arrives with a friend.

She takes a seat, and beckons me over as her tall, dark-skinned girlfriend manages to look stunning and bored at the same time.

I’m 90% sure I know her as Raven from the gossip shows and from the way people are starting to look in her direction.

Sally waves me over. “I thought you had an audition?” I ask her.

She nods and glances at the woman across. “It was gone before I even got there. This bitch took it.”

The dark-haired woman rolls her eyes. “Oh, shut up you slut. I earned that part sucking cock.”

My eyes pop at the disclosure but Sally doesn’t seem bothered. If anything she’s laughing at my reaction.

Raven’s eyes roam over me as if she’s assessing my worthiness. “Is this the party virgin?”

Sally snickers and my cheeks flush. “Yep. Cute isn’t she? Mia, you know Raven.”

I’m not sure why she’s here. In the months we’ve been living together, I’ve only seen other actresses, deadbeat boyfriends, and occasionally one night stands she’s been drunk enough to bring home.

But this is the first time she’s introduced me as a friend. Let alone introduce me to the infamous Raven.

Runway model turned actress, Raven is famous for a sex tape involving a politician and a married couple.

On the back of the scandal, she’s wasted no time making a name for herself as a bisexual party girl who’s showing up more and more on the arm of some of the hottest actors in town.

I have no idea why she’s slumming it down here in Hyde Park, but I’m pretty sure a few diners have pulled out their cell phones.

I swallow, skin heating as she sends a sly glance at Sally. “Nice to meet you,” I say.

Raven’s full lips press together, and a half-smile appears. “Don’t worry sweetie, we’ll make sure you have a good time at the party.”

I frown at her, then at Sally. “Party?”

Sally nods, eyes on a guy across whose leaning closer, angling his cell to take a photo of Raven. “Yeah. There’s a big party coming up. Invite only and Raven managed to score two extras.”

She exchanges a look with Raven as she gestures for me to sit beside her. With a quick look at the kitchen, I steal a second to sit, wondering why on earth she’s asking me of all people.

Raven leans closer and lowers her voice. “You’re clean, right?”

It takes me a nanosecond to recognize what she’s referring to. Clean. As in no STDs.

I manage to choke out the words. “That’s none of your damn business.”

I look sidelong at Sally, but she looks irritated as she laughs at Raven. “I told you she wasn’t up to this.”

There’s an element of warning in Sally’s voice when she leans closer. “Raven is offering you something that most actresses would kill for. She’s giving you an in.”

My heart starts to thud about in my chest as Raven’s eyes meet mine. Something flickers in the midst of her almond eyes, and a silent alarm starts to ring in my head.

“Sally’s right. This is a shortcut; you’d be a fool to turn it down.”

I swallow, all the hairs on the back of my neck standing to attention. Something isn’t right. Why are they asking me?

I’m a nobody.

I stare around the diner, look at the out of work actors, screenwriters, the actors pouring over scripts, looking dejected, depressed and I know this is likely to be an opportunity they’d do anything for.

Zander’s warning circles in a loop as I look at Sally. “You want me to do what exactly?”

It’s Raven that answers. “Just have fun. Have a few drinks, you know party with anyone who can help any of us.”

Her hand reaches over the table and she places her long-manicured fingers over mine. “You do want to make it here, don’t you? The three of us, a black girl, a sexy blonde and the innocent girl next door like you. We can make this a party that no one will forget.”

Sally nods slowly and places her hand on top of Raven’s. “You need to accept all the favors you can, Mia.”

My skin starts to crawl as I tug my hand out from under theirs. “I have early shifts all week. I can’t go to a party.”

Raven snorts a laugh. “Are you for real? You play your part right, you’ll never work in this grease pit again.”

Thoughts are spinning painfully as Sally and Raven exchange knowing glances. “Think of it as an invitation to a club everyone wants to get into,” Sally says.

My stomach has started to churn as Raven rolls her shoulders and covers a yawn. This isn’t even a big deal to either of them. It’s become so ordinary and mundane, Sally doesn’t even register it as being wrong in any way.

I know Sally has been in a few productions where she’s done things I wouldn’t be comfortable with. Is that how this happens? You do one sex scene that pushes you past your limit, then another, then another, until you can’t separate real life from acting?

What was it Zander said? If someone offers to do you a favor, there are strings attached?

My voice comes out a croak. “Why would you want to do me a favor?”

A flash of irritation crosses Raven’s face before Sally hisses in my direction. “I told you she was too uptight.”

Sally shuffles to the side, forcing me to abruptly shift out of her way. Raven looks nonplussed as Sally pulls out her phone and stalks away.

Every eye in the diner is on Raven as she leans closer. Her lips brush my ear as she air kisses me. “Shame. This is the hottest ticket in town. Jacob Cole’s parties are always the wildest.”

I can’t breathe. I can’t speak. My voice comes out a croak. “Will Zander be there?”

Her eyebrows rise. “Of course, he will be. The party is in his honor.”

Her eyes roam over my body. “I have a dress that will slay Zander Cole if you’re interested in getting his attention?”

I swallow hard. Not sure what the hell I’m thinking will happen if I show up at Zander’s house.

But like the train wreck I am, I find myself nodding.