Chapter Three - Blaire
CHAPTER THREE
Blaire
If there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s act.
Put on a show.
Play pretend.
Get in character.
I can do it all. In fact, I can do it all so well that I’m not sure I ever stop. And I’m starting to think that might be my problem.
“I’m sorry, you want me to do what?” I level my accusatory gaze at my agent Patricia and then down to the new David Yurman necklace wrapped around her long, shiny Botoxed neck. I wonder how much of my lost dignity went into the money she used to buy that?
“Nothing is any different, Blaire.” She smiles and tilts her head reassuringly. Her cadence is maternal while her actions are not. It used to get her a long way with me when I was younger and still believed she cared. But now I’m a grown ass woman at thirty-two years old. And I recognize it as the tone she uses when she really wants something.
“How many people saw you buy this ring?” I ask Mika Plymouth. He’s recently become Hollywood’s favorite leading actor and is my co-star in a highly anticipated historical romance set to release after this summer. Now the world also likely thinks he’s my fiancé.
And he doesn’t mean a damn thing to me. It’s all contractual. And the entire world eats it up because, like I said, I’m always acting.
I twist the 3-karat diamond ring in my hand. I didn’t even try it on. The anxiety that I wouldn’t be able to get it off is too intense.
“Ergh,” he can’t even spit out an answer to my question. And it’s all I need to know. Of course, paparazzi caught him buying the ring. It was all a part of a plan. A plan I just happened to be left in the dark about.
“There are already pictures being posted as we speak,” Patricia smiles as she drops this bomb. “As far as the headlines go, you’re engaged. Congratulations!”
“Well, then you better think about how many people you want seeing him returning it.” I place the extravagant, yet meaningless, ring on my kitchen table. “Because this is too far. Even for me.”
I was reluctant about entering into this P.R. relationship at all, but begrudgingly accepted, thinking it would be brief. He needed the boost to his career. And I needed, according to my agent, to ‘appear more human ’ , which is ridiculous. What could I possibly be to people other than human?
Cat?
Horse?
That’s actually a nice thought. I would love to gallop through some canyon and finally, for once in my life, feel free.
“Blaire,” a male voice interjects. But it’s not Mika’s. It’s his agent, Frederic. Like the rest of our lives, even the fake break-up of our fake engagement has to be micromanaged by other people. “All you have to do is wait a few more months,” Frederic continues. “Do the press junket and then you can go off and do whatever you want.”
I open my mouth to speak, but before I can get a word out, Patricia interjects. “Actually, think about how much more interest could be stirred up by break-up rumors. We wouldn’t make an announcement yet. She would be seen without a ring though and people would start talking and-”
I don’t hear the rest as I leave my kitchen. Patricia and Frederic are too engrossed in scheming to even notice.
The whole thing makes me feel sick. I’ve played the media game my whole life as a child star turned “serious” actress, but this engagement took it a step further than I’m comfortable with. And if I don’t stop it, I’m worried about what will happen to me. I’ve always felt like I’m dancing at the edge of a cliff. But now it’s starting to feel like the cliff is collapsing under me. I need to find solid land. And that certainly isn’t in Hollywood. At least not for me.
I throw open the big oak door to my bedroom and head to my nightstand. There’s one place in the world I used to run to when my life felt like too much. Until I screwed that place up to. Gram might not be waiting for me anymore in Solace Springs, but there’s still a piece of her that is.
I reread the note she left for me in her will.
Hello my star,
It’s your cheeky Gram with a proposition. Although, if you’re reading this, then I guess you can call this my dying wish.
I’ve left you my Airstream camper. When I bought that thing, I was a young mom who just needed a roof over my head but instead found a home when I parked it in Solace Springs. You’ll never need to worry about a roof over your head, but maybe one day you will need a home.
And I don’t mean you can just hire someone to pick it up. I know you, my star. And this time, money won’t cut it. You need to get it working and make it liveable again all on your own. As an incentive, I’ve arranged for one more thing from me to be waiting for you when it’s all done.
With all my love,
Gram
P.S. You only have five years. I might not be in a rush anymore, but you’re not getting any younger.
Guilt ripples through me as it always does when I read this letter. I haven’t had the time to go back to Solace Springs to complete her wishes. And yeah, okay. I’ve been avoiding it too.
“Okay, Blaire. We came to an agreement. You need to wear this a little longer.” Patricia enters my bedroom holding out the obnoxiously big diamond ring in front of her like it’s the nose of a sniffer dog looking for a cadaver. I guess in this case, I’d be the cadaver .
“No.” I say, but she doesn’t even acknowledge my answer.
“We decided the best time for you guys to break up is shortly after the premiere. We’ll drop some hints in the media beforehand so it doesn’t come as a total shock to the public.”
“No.” I say again.
“That actually doesn’t sound so bad,” Mika looks at me pleadingly. I get it that this is his career. But it’s also my life. And for too long, I’ve thought that my career is my life and my life is my career. I’ve never known where the line is. But maybe I can still find it.
I ignore them and head to my walk-in closet. The space is as big as my bedroom because it often needs to fit an entire glam squad, so unfortunately they follow me with ease. I beeline to the wall custom-built for my bags and roll out my largest aluminum Rimowa suitcase.
I start throwing clothes into the suitcase in a hurry. This is something my stylist usually does, but I don’t have time to get her here. Because if I don’t leave now, I’m afraid I never will.
“We don’t have any trips scheduled. Why are you packing?” Patricia asks, finally looking me in the eye.
“I’m leaving,” I say as I head to my jewelry tray.
“Like hell you are,” Patricia’s tone finally matches her intentions, harsh and demanding. “We’ve got too much going on.”
“I can come with you!” Mika offers.
“Oh, some vacation photos would be gold.” Frederic chimes in. “Perfect way to propose. Tenerife, perhaps?”
I don’t even bother to respond as I pull out a jewelry travel case.
“Just at least tell me where you’re going.” Patricia steps closer to me.
I scan my jewelry, trying to find what I’m looking for. Has it really been that long since I’ve worn it ?
“At the very least, I’ll need to arrange security,” Patricia stands unnervingly close to me now.
I spot a smudge of tarnished silver pushed all the way back into the jewelry tray. One of my stylists must have wanted it out of the way, deeming it something they’d never even consider putting on me.
“And an assistant, a driver, your plane and pilot, a stylist, a makeup artist.” Patricia continues. She’s right. Ordinarily, this is the very least that I travel with.
But I’m not doing “ordinary” anymore.
I close the clasp around my neck on the delicate thin chain that dangles Gram’s small silver cowboy hat charm.
“Patricia, take a vacation. I won’t be needing anyone where I’m going.”