While we still in the midst of filming âDays of Rageâ in London, Marty OâBrien called with a hastily organized photo gig. The Triple Threat Tour weâd worked on was doing a special gig at the O2 Arena for the BBC and HBO in the states. And weâd be doing all the photos again. Beyonce`, Rihanna and Tigress would be on the bill again and there was a promise of âunannounced special guestsâ on the show too. For some reason, Marty kept that a secret even from us. Very un-Marty, if you asked me. But I wasnât complaining; my entire time in London had been spent at the flat with the filmâs star Jennifer Aniston and the studiosâ London rep Beth. Which saved the studio money, and the benefits of being around the two of them had been quite nice as well. Chris was doing quite well too, heâd hooked up with one of the production assistants so I didnât see much of him on days we werenât working. I learned long ago not to ask too many questions about his hookups, and he rarely asked about mine.
Beth was turning out to be quite fun to be around, and not just when her sister Sophie was there too!
Chris and I met at the vast 02 Arena complex the morning of the show for the soundcheck and to go over logistics with Terry Carter, the English promoter. Even with all the chaos going on around us, Terry was cool. Heâd been promoting shows in England for many years, so something like this was nothing for him. Marty and Terry went over what to expect and let us in on who the guests would be. Fergie was expected, and possibly Mariah Carey. One of them was this British singer Iâd never heard of but was apparently quite the rising star there, Pixie Lott. Sheâd be joining Rihanna during her set. Marty was quite proud to get her on the show, heâd just made a deal to bring her to the USA to open for Tigressâ on their upcoming tour, so he was positioning her to be his ânext big thingâ with lots of promo appearances planned. Marty had pulled out all the stops to make sure âPixieâ got first class treatment. Like I said, she was already a rising star in Britain, but he figured the more press she got with the American market, the better. Chris and I couldnât help but snicker at calling somebody Pixie, sure it was a stage name and all but it just felt weird to Yanks like us. And Marty was starting to get a little annoyed at us.
âAlright, Iâm glad youâre gettingâ a laugh out of this, Iâll remember it when Iâm choosing tour photographers.â He said with mock-seriousness.
As we were leaving the Arena, as if by chance, Beth and Sophie were waiting outside by Sophieâs car, a blue Ford Focus convertible.
âHey Jim!â they yelled.
âLooks like you just got a ride somewhere nice.â Chris said.
âOh, well, theyâre just, uhâŠâ I stammered.
âFriends?â he said with raised eyebrows.
I could only nod in response as they walked over.
âYeahâŠwish I had friends like that.â He replied wistfully as he walked away to the sexy redhead standing by an equally cool looking Jaguar.
âWhat are you two doing here?â I asked after getting a sweet kiss from both girls.
âSophie works for Terryâs company, she gets me into every show here, cool, huh?â Beth said.
âI can clearly see the advantages of this arrangement.â I said with my best professorial tone.
They both laughed like schoolgirls.
âIâm so coolâŠâ I thought to myself.
âSo I hear that Pixie Lottâs gonna be on the show.â Beth said
âDonât know anything about that.â I replied.
âItâs true.â Sophie added in a weary tone âSheâs all wacko about that.â
âIâve never heard of her.â I said.
âYouâre kidding? Oh my god sheâs so cool!â Beth said excitedly
âCome on Hollywood, weâre buying you lunch.â Sophie said as she led me to the Ford and we were off. Beth was playing Pixieâs CD as we drove along and giving me all the details about her. Not bad, I thought. And both wanted to know any gossip about Rihanna, I had to wonder if I should tell them about my fling Iâd had with her during the American tour. After what Iâd already done with them, I doubted anything would faze them. Theyâd probably enjoy it for all I know.
The night of the show was definitely the biggest affair weâd ever been a part of. Beth and Sophie drove me there, looking incredibly sexy in matching miniskirts with glitter accents that showed some serious legs. There were paparazzi photographers everywhere and plenty of stars too. But these were of the English kind, so the namesâ meant little to me. This was one of those rare moments when I had to look around and wonder if I was really here. Chris reassured me like only he could;
âGet your ass in gear Hollywood! We gotta a job to do!â he barked.
The show was something else! Everyone involved had radically changed their set lists for this show. Which was good, my theory was when you see the same show night after night, the pictures begin to suffer. Rihanna and I hadnât seen one another in a few months. And a lot had happened to her since then, according to the tabloids. She had even fiercer looking guards around her than usual. So there was no way weâd have any kind of meeting like before. Like Chris said, I had a job to do.
Chris and I headed into the backstage areas for extra gear and saw Marty there.
âHey boys! Iâd like you to meet Miss Pixie.â
Pixie Lott was there with him and several other assistants. She was quite pretty, I had to admit. She had golden blonde hair and warm brown eyes. And a killer body that had definitely spent lots of time either in an elite dance studio or a gym. She was definitely showing it off too, in a glittery tank top and blue jeans.
âHi guys, Iâm Pixie.â She said with a cute accent
This was one time that Chris didnât play super salesman. To my surprise, he was the one stammering for a response.
âHi, Iâm Jim. Thatâs Chris, my boss. We did all the photos for the American tour.â
âI know, Martyâs quite the promoter for you guys. I canât wait to see your photos tonight. Iâm just so nervous about RihannaâŠwhatâs she like?â
âOh, sheâs cool, great layâŠI mean LADY!â I said quickly correcting myself.
Chris was practically standing behind me now like a shy child.
âUh, you know thereâs some friends of mine whoâd love to meet you, maybe later?â I said.
âOh, Iâd love to meet them, bring them to the after-party.â She said cheerfully as she looked at Marty.
âYou got it, guys.â Marty said âIâll tell TerryâŠcome on my dear, itâs showtime.â
And with that, Marty and Pixie left.
My, oh, my, she had a nice ass!
Chris hadnât said a word the whole time, a first for him.
âWell, you were in fine voice tonight, should I wind you up for the Q&A?â I said.
âL-l-letâs get going.â He said.
Once in a while I get the upper hand with him, and itâs always nice!
Rhiannaâs set was even better than I recall. She looked incredibly hot, as usual. But there were few, if any, glances toward me on stage left snapping photos. I turned around and there was Ms. Pixie waiting for her cue to join her onstage.
âHey, do I look OK?â she asked nervously.
She had the same outfit on when we met, but the jeans had been traded for a pair of tight black bicycle shorts that looked painted on and thigh-high leather boots. It took all I had to not totally drool over her, she looked so hot.
âWowâŠyou look great!â I said.
We then heard Rihanna talking onstage.
âAlright LondonâŠIâm gonna bring someone up here for my next songâŠgive it up forâŠPixie Lott! Come on, girl!â
She hesitated momentarily, then looked at me and smiled as if to say âwish me luckâ then quickly dashed out onto the stage, waving to the screaming crowd. Then the two went right into Rhiannaâs song âShut Up and Driveâ, Pixieâs song âMama Doâ and a cover of Joan Jettâs âBad Reputationâ. They sounded great together and played off one another in an âIâll show youâ kind of way. I can only imagine what Beth and Sophie were thinking. I hadnât seen them since we arrived, they followed me into the backstage area for a minute then apparently went to their seats.
Once Pixie had finished her mini set with Rihanna, she walked offstage and immediately went for me, giving me a big hug, much to my surprise.
âOh, my god! That was so awesome! I canât believe I did it!â
âWell, you did.â I replied, still trying to understand why she went for me and not Marty. After all, he was the guy bringing her stateside.
Pixie was quickly swept away by Marty and reps from her record company. She looked over her shoulder at me and waved as she was led away.
âI know that lookâŠâ I heard Chris say as he stood by me.
âYeah, Iâll bet you doâŠâ I replied and we went back to gather our gear for the night.
The tour had progressed to the point where we knew the best time to leave the venue to beat any traffic. We werenât disrespecting the performers, but weâd seen the show so many times that there wasnât much we hadnât already seen before.
As we were packing up, Marty buzzed us on our cellphones with info on the after party. It would be at the Dorchester Hotel in London, I remembered that place from long ago. At least this time Chris wouldnât blow me off like he did the last time we were in London.
âOK, our carâs downstairs, letâs go.â He said
The underground garage was a hubbub of activity between drivers, musicians, managers and assorted hangers-on. In the midst of this I heard someone yelling.
âJim! Over here!â I saw Beth and Sophie at their car waving me over.
I quickly dashed over to them.
âThe partyâs at the Dorchester, see you there.â I said and turned to run back
âWait a minute! You might need this.â Sophie said as she held up my wallet. âYou left it in my car.â
âHoly shit!â I didnât realize it had fallen out. âThanks!â
âSee you there, baby.â Beth said as they drove away.
I walked back to the rented car Chris and I had, and saw it was gone.
âSon of a bitch!â I screamed as I stood in the now empty garage.
He did it again! Chris had abandoned me in London.
I started to walk, then ran up the ramp hoping I might catch him before he disappeared.
No luck, there was a vast sea of cars but no sign of Chris.
âWonderful!â I said out loud.
I started walking, where I had no idea. I gotta figure out how to get to this Dorchester Hotel, wherever that is.
Calling Chrisâ phone was no help, it went to voicemail.
But London had other plans for me as I heard a car horn honking and a girlsâ voice screaming.
âJim! Jim! Over here!â
I saw Sophieâs convertible and Beth standing up in it screaming my name.
âOver here!â
I immediately ran toward their car.
âWhat the fuck are you doing here?â âWhereâs your ride?â They asked.
âUh, Iâm not sure. He probably figured I was riding with you and took off.â