If you read part 1, then I appreciate you returning to find out what happens next. If you didn't read Part 1, then it's not essential and there's definitely more bang for your buck in this chapter! Hope you enjoy the story and please remember to vote at the end.
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For the second morning in a row, I woke with a thudding headache. I looked at the clock. It was just past seven. Rolling over, I tried to get back to sleep, but to no avail. I didn't think my stomach was capable of holding food and yesterday's swim, while temporarily refreshing, hadn't managed to clear the cobwebs, so I decided to go for a walk. Popping a couple of aspirin, I dressed quickly and headed out, the hotel a claustrophobic prison I needed to escape.
Moving quickly from the artificially lit hotel to bright early morning sunshine, I squinted, shielding my eyes from the stabbing light and headed down the long drive to the main road. Looking around, I realised that walking wasn't going to be easy. The infrastructure was clearly designed for vehicles and not pedestrians. My route was dictated by footpath availability.
I walked with purpose, coming across an open grassy area after ten minutes or so. There, I dropped onto a concrete bench, the seat left cold by the cloaking branches of a nearby tree. Resting my chin in my hands, I watched the early morning traffic rumble past, the volume slowly building as time drifted on.
Hazy recollections of the two previous nights were flicking in and out of my mind: Jenny's sparkling eyes, lots of laughter and fun, too much alcohol, goodnight kisses that lingered longer than they should have and the peep show to end all peep shows. The image of my scantily-clad 'associate guide' (as she'd been dubbed by the movie studio I was working for) pleasuring herself, knowing fully that I was watching, was a difficult image to shake.
Despite Jenny's assurances that what I'd done was no worse than jacking off to a porn film, I wasn't so sure. I couldn't get her out of my head, and for a married man whose wife was so far away, that wasn't a healthy thing.
Running both hands over my face in frustration, I couldn't help but laugh. How did I get myself into this? There was no need for my wife Susan to find out what had happened, because technically, nothing
had
happened. I'd just have to live with the guilty conscience for a few days and behave myself. Ideally, it would have helped to stay away from Jenny for a few days, but that wouldn't be possible. Tonight I was going to get my first real taste of Hollywood: an all-star party with Shannen Doherty, Arnold Schwarzenegger and Tom Cruise on the guest list, and Jenny had the invites.
I was only interested in Shannen, especially as she was on my "Wife-Approved-List-Of-Celebrities-I-Can-Fuck". Either way, it would be too much fun to miss. I thought about how I'd break the news to Susan if it actually happened. 'Hi Suzie, it's me. You're never gonna believe this but I've just given Shannen Doherty one from behind!'
A truck driver blasted his horn angrily, making me jump and bringing me back to the real world. I shook my head vigorously and sighed, wishing Susan were sitting beside me.
"Hey, you think you got problems sir? Well look at me!"
I glanced up to see a scruffy old man, his arms opened wide, smiling at me. He looked like he hadn't had a bath in a year. His white Santa-style beard was tatty and unkempt, his green jacket ripped and grubby, and his face heavily weathered and wrinkled.
"Spare me a couple of bucks for a drink and I'll happily sit and listen to your problems. See if I can come up with any solutions for you."
I didn't ask what kind of drink he was looking for but I guessed it wouldn't be a cup of tea. Pulling out a roll of notes from my trouser pocket, I peeled off a five-dollar bill. It was all Monopoly money to me. "I'll pass on the advice thanks," I grinned, handing over the money.
His smile grew wider. "God bless you young man. A true English gentleman; who'd have thought it!" He scratched his beard, examining the note with glee. "My great, great grandfather was born in Ireland. May you have the luck of the Irish!" Rubbing the top of my head as if to bestow some magical good fortune on me, he proceeded on his way, whistling some tuneful little ditty.
Slowly, I got to my feet thinking I'd already had all the luck of a lifetime in just the past five years, smiling to myself just thinking about it.
* * * * *
The day's meetings were a bit of a drag. I had to listen to more classical film scores and I was struggling with it. It was as alien to me as the British rock music I'd selected was to the film studio. At least they'd accepted one of the songs I'd chosen ('Signs' by Blameless) but they were 'continuing to assess' the rest of my original choices. It would have helped if the execs and producers weren't all dinosaurs. Some young ears to match those of the cinema-going audience would have made all the difference, but I kept my opinions to myself and quietly got on with my 'work'.
Jenny popped in about three in the afternoon to say 'hi', and let me know she'd be round for me at eight. We arranged to meet in my hotel bar. I got a whiff of her enticing perfume as she turned to go, immediately reminding me of our gentle goodnight kiss. Life was never simple.
At nine o'clock sharp, Jenny and I arrived at the Wallender Mansion, Beverly Hills. Linking her arm with my own, we scaled the steps together and were greeted at the top of our climb by two curt henchmen. As we joined the back of a small queue of couples, I busily searched the crowd for anyone famous, almost immediately feeling a tug on my arm as Jenny herded us towards a glamorous middle-aged woman.
"Good evening." Her voice was a strange mixture of aristocratic English and American drawl. "Do you have your invitations sir?"
Jenny opened her handbag, producing the not-too-subtle invites.
"Thank you Ma'am. Have a nice evening." She left us with a rehearsed smile before reeling off her stock greeting for the next guests.
The size of the entrance hall was overwhelming. A mock Greek Palace spread out beyond it, gold trimmed walls of ivory creating a backdrop for ancient naked statues and tall pillars encircled by ivy. The artwork was authentic and most of the paintings were huge. I half expected everyone to be wearing togas.
Taking two glasses of champagne, we made our way between a sentry of massive columns and into the main room. It had a balcony at the far end overlooking the gathering crowds. Several guests had already congregated up there, apparently enjoying their elevated position. To the right was an opening leading out to an Olympic sized swimming pool, complete with diving boards. There must have been five hundred people milling around, maybe more. A crowd of guests were outside chatting at the poolside, coolly drinking their champagne and nibbling at canapé's. Like me, the men were in tuxes, the women stuffed and sewn into expensive designer dresses, every shape, colour and possible configuration of silk, satin and velvet livened the ivory halls. The music was soft and low, the loudest sound the background white-noise of conversations overlaying one another.
"Fuck me," I whispered.
"Stay cool," Jenny said calmly. "Remember, no embarrassing me. You promised."
Grabbing my hand briefly, she squeezed gently, probably guessing that I felt out of my depth and awkward. The place just screamed 'glitz!' and I figured I was the only person there who didn't have a tan.
"Come on, there's Kyle Lovenz," said Jenny excitedly, tugging at my arm again.
"Who?"
"Mandalay Bay. You must get that in the UK surely?"
"If we do I've never seen it. What is it?"
"A soap opera. Kyle's plays a doctor. He was up for a part in
Death Train
six months or so ago but didn't get the part. I hung out with him for a few days."
The psuedo-doctor was all false smiles and hair gel as we approached, holding his arms open for Jenny as if she were a long lost relative. His date looked unimpressed as Jenny flung her arms round him, smiling profusely.
"Jenny darling, it's been too long."
Breaking from Dr Charm's grasp, Jenny turned to introduce me. "This is Russ Harrison. UIP are in the process of turning his first novel into a film."
Kyle gave me a quick glance but left my offered handshake hanging. I felt like pushing the ignorant sod back down the stairs but kept my cool for Jenny's sake. She didn't seem to notice his rudeness, instead cocking her head and listening to his ridiculous diatribe on the state of the movie industry.
I introduced myself to Kyle's date but her handshake was weak, her voice plummy and lifeless. She obviously wasn't interested in chatting and looked around, bored as she lit a cigarette stuck into the end of a gold holder. I'd had enough and whispered to Jenny that I was going over to get Arnie's autograph.
