Chapter Two #2
Jose was standing beside a large window now.
Casually he flicked a switch and the blinds clicked into life, slowly gliding upwards to reveal stunning views of the river Thames snaking through the city – the London Eye across the river was lit in shades of pink and purple, Westminster to the right, and the city was to the left, distinguishable by the gleaming angled panes of The Shard.
It was a breath-taking sight, putting a new spin on the city I had called home for my whole life.
I felt like a tourist looking out from this privileged perspective.
When I looked at Jose, he returned a friendly smile. It might be a cold, grey wintry day out there, but in here it was warm, cosy, and comfortable.
‘We’ve not been up long,’ he explained, feeling the need to justify the reason the blinds were not open already. ‘Jet lag’s a killer from LA.’
‘I remember, it’s always worse in this direction,’ I replied, still looking out, entranced by the vista.
‘Did you have to travel far today, Amber?’
‘Oh no,’ I said, his gentle tone putting me at ease, my breathing steadier. ‘I live in London, just a Tube ride away.’
‘Born in the sound of the Bow Bells?’ he asked, doing a bad imitation of a Cockney accent.
‘Good knowledge.’ I smiled. ‘But no, I’m a North Londoner, born and bred in this city though.’
That piqued his interest. ‘Very rare. I haven’t met many true Londoners,’ he said. ‘Mandy’s just finishing up in the “spa”.’ He made air quotes and I followed his gaze to a closed door across the other side of the hallway.
Spa in their room? This really is another world.
‘Take a seat.’ He pointed to a cream armchair positioned smartly beside another.
As I sank into it, he chose to perch on the edge of the sofa on the other side of the glass coffee table.
As he moved, I got another strong whiff of his fresh, musky scent.
There was something weird about being alone in a hotel suite with a man I barely knew.
With my back to the windows now, I busied myself looking at the artefacts o n the shelves around the fake fireplace – mostly big design books, a vase stuffed with white roses, and some gold shell ornaments, gleaming in an unsentimental, luxury-hotel way.
‘Would you like a drink – water, juice, Nespresso?’
He wasn’t an unattractive man; just very groomed. If Rob was here, he would have smirked at the way Jose referred to Nespresso as though it were a type of drink, like tea.
‘I’m good, thanks.’ I reached for my reusable water bottle and pulled it out of my bag. ‘Got some water.’
It occurred to me that it was unusual to have such an intimate meeting with a big celebrity – most superstars come with a gaggle of assistants, but there was no entourage present.
Perhaps the fact it appears to be just the two of them is encouraging?
A couple of long minutes passed. My mouth became dry, so I took a gulp of water and my throat gurgled as I swallowed.
Jose smiled, letting me know he heard. I felt my cheeks redden. If Vicky had been here she would have giggled too, but the uncomfortable silence made me nervous.
‘Are you sure I can’t get you a Nespresso?’ he asked, maybe looking for a reason to do something. ‘Or a tea? I know you Brits love your tea?’
Massive stereotype there, Jose.
I grinned innocuously: ‘Thanks, but I’ve had my coffee for today.’
Before we were plunged back into silence, the door handle across the hallway turned and we both jumped, like guardsmen, to our feet.
Encased in a fluffy white robe and hotel slippers decorated with a large gold C, Mandy, at first glance, looked more like a regular spa customer than an international megastar, but when she lifted her arm to shake my hand, the gigantic pink diamond on her ring-finger told a different story.
Her nails, immaculately painted with a pale, iridescent polish, made it look as though she had ten oval-shaped pearls at the end of her digits.
Her chestnut hair was scraped back off her face in a ponytail and she was barely wearing any make-up, except for false eyelashes, which were long and thick. Her olive skin had the fresh glow that only an expensive facial can give. She is as spellbinding as she is in photos.
‘Excuse the gown, I didn’t have time to change,’ she commented, extending her hand. ‘You must be Amber.’
We shook and her hand felt warm and soft. It seemed oddly formal given the informality of her clothing. ‘I figure you’re the woman to tell me what to wear today.’ Her voice carried a lilting flow that was both soft and friendly, yet there was an edge to it.
‘That’s right.’ I smiled nervously, unsure whether she was joking or not.
‘Did Jose offer you a drink?’ She gestured to him, perched on the sofa arm again.
‘No, I mean, yes, but I’m okay.’ I sensed Jose was going to be in trouble if he hadn’t.
‘You don’t like champagne?’ she enquired.
It’s only ten o’clock.
‘You’re hesitating,’ she quipped. ‘That means, we should all have champagne. The rosé, Jose, please. I always fancy a glass after a massage, it seems to get into my system quicker – you know?’
‘Yes,’ I replied, instantly feeling a little silly for saying so, when it was absolutely not something I could relate to. If Vicky could see me now.
I wondered if she was testing me. ‘Thank you, but I don’t drink while I’m working.’
Her glass charged, Mandy led me up the spiral staircase into the heart of the suite, the master bedroom and dressing room. On the way up, she delivered my instructions.
‘Formal interviews don’t reveal raw talent,’ she said, ‘so I thought we would do a dry run – I’ll give you the scenarios, and you choose what I should wear. Like a game. Only not.’
I was glad she walked ahead, because she couldn’t see the panic on my face.
‘Of course,’ I replied calmly. Concentrating on not tripping up the stairs, I noticed the famous floral tattoo decorating her ankle come into view.
There was so much about Mandy that was familiar, even though we had only just met. I wondered if I would get a glance of her bunion scars.
Extensive online research last night reminded me that Mandy had been famous since she jumped to fame at age fifteen, catching the judges’ attention as ‘one to watch’ on the final season of Star Search in 1995, where she won over the audience as much for her charisma as her singing talent.
She was the daughter of two immigrants – a mother from Mexico and father from Jamaica.
Mandy’s parents and their f amilies travelled to the United States in pursuit of a better life, well before they met working in the same life insurance sales office in Gainesville, Florida.
When Mandy was young, the family had moved to California for their only child to attend school, and when she got a place at the University of California, Santa Cruz to major in American studies, Mandy decided to put her singing aspirations to one side, to become the first person in her entire family’s history to entertain the idea of a university degree.
She was almost ready to graduate in 2002 when American Idol came calling.
Encouraged by friends to give it a go, Mandy queued for seven hours to attend the first audition.
In a story which is now Hollywood folklore, one of her high heels became lodged in a drain as she neared the front of the queue, so she did her first audition in one shoe.
This enabled her to create an impression with the judges, and Mandy ended up making it through round after round, becoming a runner-up on the first series.
‘Mandy was born with ambition,’ her father had regaled to E! News in a biography of his superstar daughter’s life.
Drama camps, singing lessons, a dialect coach, and her early experience on Star Search had grown her confidence as a teenager, and although she missed out on the top spot on American Idol , it served her well as more reality shows and brand endorsements quickly followed, and Mandy became a household name.
Over the last twenty-three years, with various talent management agencies, she underwent a number of reinventions as popular culture moved with the times – there was a stint as a TV actress, a small movie role in a medium-budget comedy where she played Ben Affleck’s former girlfriend, and cameos in a number of music videos.
But it was on social media and her eponymous YouTube channel that Mandy found a lucrative, natural home and captured the hearts of a legion of loyal American fans with her roller-coaster love life, pneumatic style and curvaceous looks.
After a series of broken hearts, when she finally met her ‘Prince’, Mandy and Jose live-streamed their wedding, and the moment Jose lifted the veil to kiss his new bride became ‘the most defining image of 2020’, according to Variety magazine.
It was the fairy-tale ending her story had been waiting for, only that was five years ago now.
Since then, only the bunion operation had come close to the stats she once achieved, and there were only so many times she could blame the algorithm for a dip in popularity when brands began to question her star power.
I imagined it was time for Mandy’s team to explore opportunities in different parts of the world, hence London had been identified by Julie-Ann as a good place to start.
‘Obviously I only have a capsule wardrobe here today,’ Mandy said, gesturing to the expansive walk-in closet which was half full.
The dressing room in itself was as large as my whole bedroom and plenty big enough to hold any normal person’s wardrobe, for their entire life.
It was so large it also housed a Pilates reformer machine – one of those beds that looks more like an instrument of torture, or a large sex toy.