Chapter 23
JOSIE
Victor drives us from the airport to his pad high up in the Beverly Hills once we’re in Los Angeles. It was a totally smooth process – he had a car delivered to greet us when our private plane landed. It’s a very flashy sports car. Of course Victor just has to have the loudest and coolest vehicle on the road, but even I have to confess that the sound the car makes is deafeningly incredible.
Yep, I’m impressed.
And I can tell that the actor likes that I’m impressed. Even with all his money and fame, he still likes to show off to the small town barista. It’s a cute little vulnerability of his.
“First time in Los Angeles?” Victor asks me as we zoom through the palm tree-lined streets.
I look around me in awe at this amazing city and nod.
“Yep.”
“I’m glad I get to be the man who shows you.”
This is a place I’ve only seen in movies, so it feels like I’ve walked onto a real movie set and not somewhere real. I expect to see every famous face walking on the sidewalk or in the cars parked alongside us. There are so many sports cars on the streets. So many rich boutique stores.
It’s nothing like Crystal River, that’s for sure.
I feel the vibration of the sports car’s engine as we shoot around a corner in a very expensive-looking leafy street.
“What about our luggage?” I ask Victor, suddenly remembering. “We didn’t pick it up when we left the plane...”
We were so fast off that plane. It was unlike any airport experience I’ve ever had. We were shot straight into Victor’s waiting car from the aircraft. I’m still suffering from the whiplash of it all. I didn’t even think about our bags.
“My team has sent the luggage ahead with a driver,” Victor says matter-of-factly. “Don’t worry, it’s all been organized ahead of schedule. Your bags should already be at my place by the time we get there.”
“Oh, cool.”
We spin around another corner and, yet again, I feel the powerful vibration of the vehicle under my ass.
And then we arrive at our destination.
It’s a gated mansion nestled in a row of mansions – the grandest one on the block, of course. Victor’s place is not as big as his family complex back in Crystal River, but it is still pretty jaw-dropping to a girl like me.
The gate automatically opens for us, and Victor drives straight into a very secure underground parking lot below his building. We pass by a fountain and statues of Roman gods – a fancy Mediterranean style.
“Very nice place,” I remark to the man as he turns off the engine.
He looks at me with a flicker in his blue eyes.
“Wait until you see the rest of it,” he mutters.
Oh, boy.
Yep, he really wants to show off to the small town barista.
The main foyer of the gated mansion has a staircase sweeping up under a silver chandelier. It keeps with the Mediterranean aesthetic outside – all marble flooring and wooden panels. Back windows face on to a glittering view of Los Angeles. I simply stand there in the opulence and blush at how amazing this place is.
Yeah, it’s nothing like my apartment back home...
The main thing that catches my eye, however, are the framed posters of classic movies that line the walls. Victor has filled his home with them. Movies are clearly something he really deeply cares about, and it shows.
There are even pieces of memorabilia for famous flicks on display around the place. A cabinet with a sword from a big blockbuster fantasy movie. A gun from a classic Western. A suit from a sixties romance behind glass. I take my time to look at each one.
This kind of stuff is way more impressive to me than some big fancy mansion.
“You collect all this stuff?” I ask Victor as I scan around the room.
I notice he’s been watching me this entire time from the staircase.
“Yes,” he says curtly. “Want to see the guest bedroom?”
He doesn’t really want to talk about it.
Why, though? Does he think it makes him uncool to have such a passion for something? I would think a love for something is a very attractive trait.
“Sure, let’s have a look. Lead the way.”
I follow him upstairs. He reveals a grand room with a giant bed.
“This is where you can stay,” he tells me. “It has an ensuite and everything you might want after a long flight.”
“Thank you, Victor.”
“No problem.”
“I bet there’s been a lot of girls who have stayed in this room over the years,” I remark, with just a hint of cheekiness.
“I never let girls come over here,” Victor replies bluntly. “This is my own private space. I usually just hire a hotel suite.”
“Oh, so you are a playboy, see?”
Victor just smiles softly before he walks away to give me some privacy.
He suddenly seems aloof now, and that’s made me feel uncertain.
I can’t figure him out.
I head over to the bed. True to what Victor told me in the car, my luggage sits on top of the sheets, ready for me to unpack. I head into the ensuite and take my time to have a nice shower. Like the rest of Victor’s mansion, the ensuite is gorgeous. He really has an eye for interior design.
I let the hot water run down my back as I think about the actor and all the craziness that has happened today. The plane. The sports car. The mansion. It’s all totally foreign to me.
Coming here, to his impressive place in Los Angeles and experiencing his mode of travel has made this fake relationship become a hell of a lot more real.
It isn’t just signing some document on my break at the coffee shop - there’s no turning back now.
And now I have to ask myself the question...
What am I doing here?