Chapter Twenty-six
I kept staring at my phone. Tony hadn’t replied – even though I’d seen him start typing with my own eyes. He’d obviously changed his mind about what he wanted to say. He’d read my letter, seen my message and decided not to respond to either. It was torture not knowing what he’d started to say, what he thought of what I’d said, but maybe his silence told me everything I needed to know. I stepped on board the water taxi, but this time I sat inside the cabin, next to the driver.
‘Ah! No view for you today, signorina?’ he said, with a smile on his lips. ‘You don’t want to feel the wind in your hair?’
‘No, thank you,’ I replied, politely. Phoebe and I had been pinned to our seats by the wind in our hair yesterday, water spraying in our faces in exchange for the chance to enjoy the view. I wasn’t making that mistake again. I disembarked feeling much calmer and more together and Chiara waved me straight through, my platinum pass around my neck, shining in the sun.
‘Can I put Phoebe Barrington on the list for the wrap party?’ I asked. Best to double-check, in case my privileges had been reneged overnight.
‘Of course, Ms Mason, I’ll make a note,’ she said. ‘You’ll just have to escort her in when she arrives.’
‘Perfect. Thank you.’
Me:You’re definitely in for later, Phoebs. I’ve left your name on the door.
Phoebe:Wooohooooo! That is fab-u-lous news, chica, thanks! Who’d have thought you’d end up being one of my most influential clients?! This is quite the turnaround, Abs.
Me:The real Abigail Mason, whose pass I’ve somehow wangled, is trapped somewhere, furious. It’s the only explanation.
I looked at my message to Tony again and cringed.
He’d be on his way back to LA by now, cracking on with his busy, American life. I took a quick selfie in front of the cinema, holding up my platinum pass, and posted it on my socials.
Working on the VIPs at the VFF.#VIP #AAA #itsmehi #teamga #thea-listteam
I tagged Jackie and Stella – and Lucy and Danny for good measure. I didn’t want any of them to think I’d just disappeared off the face of the earth. I swiped myself into the building and headed for the lift, pulling my phone out one more time to switch it off as per the rules. Ting. My heart skipped a beat, but it was just a couple of people liking my post on Instagram. Why had he started to reply and then stopped?
My old self was fussing about in the back of my brain, desperate to be acknowledged. Focus on your career, Abi. Yes, exactly. I turned my phone OFF and was still deep in thought as I knocked on Gem’s door.
‘Come in!’ she called.
‘Morningggg,’ I sing-songed sunnily, in the same way I’d done yesterday, pushing the door open with a smile, to find Gem in the middle of the room stood next to Blake. She gave me a funny look and slightly nodded in his direction as if to say: Who’s this guy?!
‘Morning, Abi, nice and early again!’ she said.
‘Oh hi, Abi,’ Blake said, strange and stilted. He kept his eyes lowered as if he was scared to look at me, or had been caught red-handed, which was more likely.
‘Morning, Blake. In for make-up already?’ I asked, breezily. Knowing full well he wasn’t.
‘Er… no… I was just having a quick word with Gem.’
‘Ohhh – is this the Blake you were talking about yesterday?’ Gem asked, her blue eyes bright and alert. Blake looked terrified.
‘The very one. Moonman number one.’
Gem nodded. ‘Makes sense. Well, it was great to meet you, Blake. I’ll take what you’ve said into consideration.’
Blake zipped his coat up and grabbed his bag, scurrying off like a rat. Gem hadn’t even known who Blake was, so there was no reason for him to be in here, cornering her for a chat.
‘Is everything OK?’ I asked.
‘Yes. How well do you know that guy? He seems like an absolute sleaze.’
‘I worked with him for a couple of days back in London. He’s married but he seems to think he can help himself to whoever he fancies.’
Gem nodded. ‘I’ve met plenty like him over the years. Heads up – he said you tried it on with him while working on Moonmen and that was the reason your contract was terminated.’
I stopped and stared at her, trying to make sense of what she’d said, as my blood started to bubble with rage. Blake’s disgusting lies, coupled with him secretly speaking to Gem to try and ruin this job for me, as well as the Moonmen gig, made me want to chase after him and smother him to death with a silicon mask.
‘What? That isn’t true…’ I stammered, shocked.
‘He claims one of the make-up artists witnessed it, but he agreed not to take it any further as long as you were fired immediately.’
I had to sit down before I fainted. Lucy must have corroborated his story. I thought back to her face when she walked in on him gripping me into his crotch.
‘That’s not what happened!’ I said, horrified at the suggestion. ‘I would never behave so unprofessionally. My career means everything to me. I’ve put my heart and soul into it my whole life.’
‘Don’t worry – I know a pre-emptive strike when I see one. And I’d already heard about his wandering hands in the wardrobe department, from Benji.’
‘Oh really?’ I was relieved to have some back-up. ‘Yes, now you mention it, I was warned in the coffee queue yesterday, too.’
‘Word gets round pretty quickly when there’s someone to watch.’
‘That’s true. If we don’t look out for each other, who will?’
‘I also remembered why his name rang a bell yesterday. One of my contacts in New York told me he’s getting the big cowboy boot from Outlaws because he can’t keep his hands to himself. It’s one of those open secrets, apparently, and being announced any day now.’
‘It was him who wouldn’t take no for an answer. And that was before I knew he was married. I just can’t believe he’s trying to ruin my reputation like this. In London and now here, with you. I’m mortified.’
‘Some egos just can’t take a no,’ Gem said, kindly. ‘At least now you know what he’s been saying so you can take some control back of the situation.’
‘Too right. And to think he had the audacity to try and apologise yesterday. He even asked me to do his make-up for the wrap party to make it clear to the industry there were no hard feelings.’
‘You should totally take him up on that,’ Gem said, with a wicked smile. ‘Sounds like an excellent opportunity to get your own back.’
‘Do you think? I can’t screw up his make-up and then shout about it on my Instagram! Look at the awful job I did, world.’
‘No, but there are plenty of other things you can do with a little imagination.’ Gem reached for a box on top of the wardrobe and started rifling through it. ‘I think I’ve got some itching powder in here, somewhere. It’s got something in it that delays the itch by an hour, so he won’t be able to prove it was you.’
‘Really?’ I said, my sick feeling subsiding. I wanted to teach him a lesson, without being too cruel or knowingly unprofessional, so this could be perfect. ‘How come you’ve got itching powder as part of your kit?’
Gem looked up with a cheeky shrug and we both laughed. ‘As I said, I’ve met plenty like him over the years. I’ve only ever used it once, but I like to have it on me.’ She was opening and closing her many meticulously kept boxes. ‘You only need a very tiny amount, no more than half a teaspoon. And make sure you’re wearing gloves.’
‘I just wouldn’t want you to think… especially you, that I’m…’
‘Here it is!’ she said, pulling out a small, red pouch and handing it over. ‘I won’t open it in case the spores fly into the air.’
‘Bloody hell, is it that powerful?’ I looked closely at the sand-like substance and felt slightly scared.
‘Just use it very sparingly,’ she said, tapping her nose. ‘And let’s have a think about the industry reputation situation as well. He doesn’t get to cancel you just because you rejected him.’
*
It had been a long day of making up and dressing up Hollywood stars and we were finally finished and clearing up. I washed all the brushes in the sink, then dried them with a hair dryer, while Gem packed up her make-up stacks and put all her bags in her suitcase.
‘Are you going to the wrap party?’ I asked, feeling absolutely shattered. If Phoebe wasn’t so desperate to go, I’d get back on that speedboat, snuggle down in my huge bed and order a bowl of creamy carbonara on room service. I wasn’t up for a super-glamorous party, where I’d feel completely out of place.
‘Of course!’ Gem said, excited. ‘And so are you, Cinderella. Everyone goes to the wrap party for a few drinks at least – even if it’s just to network.’
I nodded. ‘OK, well I’ll head down now to do Blake’s make-up,’ I said, making quote marks with my fingers, ‘and I’ll meet you in there. Is this OK to wear?’ I was in a red cotton dress, which was chic but simple. I didn’t want to look too basic for the crowd.
‘Yep. I’m going in this,’ Gem pointed to the black catsuit she’d been wearing all day. ‘I’ll just add some earrings to jazz it up a bit. I’ve got a gorgeous ruby mask you can borrow if you want to add a bit of glitz?’
She marched over to the cupboard and pulled out a bag, rootling inside until she found what she was looking for. An elaborate wooden box, covered in pearls, and nestled inside was a cat-eye mask with a mahogany handle, decorated with dark red jewels.
‘Oh wow. Are you sure?’ I said, eyes shining.
Gem nodded, handing it to me. ‘To borrow, obviously. Those rubies are real. One of the celebs wore it to the Golden Globes last year.’
I held the mask in front of my face and looked in the mirror. Oh. My. God. This was perfect. It increased my glamour levels by a thousand per cent and meant I could hide in the middle of the party and watch my little revenge plan unfold.
*
I knocked on Blake’s dressing room door and waited, anxious to get this over with. I wasn’t totally sure about the itching powder, but I had it in my pocket just in case. The door flew open and there he was. A man I once considered gorgeous, who now made my skin crawl.
‘Abi!’ he exclaimed, as if we were long-lost friends, and he hadn’t cornered me in the corridor only yesterday. ‘How are you? Thanks for coming.’
‘Anything to help out an old friend,’ I said, tightly. Honey not vinegar, honey not vinegar. I forced a smile.
‘Can I get you a drink?’ Blake asked, opening a cupboard and pulling out a bottle of whisky. He’d started pouring before I could say no.
‘I’m not a huge fan of…’
‘Me. I know,’ he said, handing me one of the glasses, with a generously poured triple.
‘Whisky,’ I said, eyeing the glass and taking a tiny sip. ‘Urgh! No – I’m OK thanks.’ I turned to my bag and unzipped the top layer of make-up.
‘Fair enough. Spirits aren’t your thing.’ Blake took a large gulp of his drink then poured my whisky into his. ‘Right then. Where do you want me?’
‘In the chair is fine,’ I said, giving him a look. I put a robe on him and checked his face over, using a face wipe to clear away any residual dirt. ‘OK, tell me. What are you wearing tonight? What look are we going for?’
‘Nothing unusual. A charcoal suit. So my make-up needs to work hard. A lot of people will still be in their masks for the wrap party, so can you paint me one in lots of colours?’
I was tempted to scribble him on a mask in permanent ink. There was that vinegar coming through again. But no – the itching powder was a better idea. I needed his make-up to be the best I’d ever done, to repair some of my reputational damage.
‘No problem, I can do you a butterfly mask if you like? I take it you want glamorous and Venetian, not Batman or Phantom?’
‘Glamorous and dramatic,’ he said. ‘I want everyone to look at me.’
I could certainly do that.
I brushed a subtle, cream base onto Blake’s face, before pencilling a soft kohl around his eyes, then outlined the shape of the mask to make sure he was happy before I set about filling it in. I started with make-up, then added jewels and finally the feathers and by the time I’d finished, Blake’s butterfly mask was a masterpiece. You would never have known it wasn’t part of his face.
‘You’re pretty good at this, you know?’ he said, admiring himself in the mirror. ‘I’ll be shouting your name from the rooftops, so everyone knows this was you.’
‘Thank you, I really appreciate it,’ I said, sweetly, forcing a smile.
He patted the seat next to him and finished his whisky. ‘What use are friends in high places if you can’t take advantage every now and then, eh?’
‘Hold that thought. I’ve got one last thing I need to do to make sure the glue sets correctly.’ I grabbed the setting spray and pulled off the lid dramatically, putting my hand in my pocket for the itching powder at the same time. I was going to have to do this quick. ‘Close your eyes,’ I said, and Blake did as he was told. I opened the pouch and tapped a sprinkle of powder into his hair, while simultaneously spritzing his face to keep his mask in position.
Blake coughed into the cloud of spray. ‘That’s plenty enough of that!’
‘All done!’ I said, zipping everything away.
‘Is it my turn now to take advantage?’ he slurred, the whisky hitting strong.
‘I don’t think so, Blake. You’ve got a wife for that, remember.’