9. Anna
ANNA
In the morning, I hear loud grunts coming. I can only imagine.
I get dressed and go downstairs.
Luke on the deck doing pull-ups.
I stand there longer than I should. Watching the lines in his back, the perfect V.
I remember a fitness magazine he was on the cover of where he talked about his morning routine. He wasn't lying.
He comes down from the bar.
"Morning."
"What time did you start?"
"Six. You should go swimming."
"I want to read. It wakes up my mind in the morning."
"What about your body?"
"What about my body?"
"What do you do to wake that up?"
"Coffee." I hold up my cup.
I take my coffee to the lounge chair by the pool and open my copy of Othello.
My lips move slightly on the first page.
I realize I'm counting his pull-ups.
He catches me.
Doesn't say anything. Just holds eye contact for one beat too long before going back to the bar.
I force myself to read.
Delia arrives at eight.
Nina is making breakfast. Egg white scramble. Avocado. Protein shake.
I sit at the counter.
"Is there toast?"
"No toast," Nina says.
I look at Delia.
"I can't have toast?"
"No bread in the house," Nina says before he can answer.
"Why?"
"I don't eat it," Luke says.
"You don't eat bread."
"No."
"So I can't eat bread?"
"No bread in the house," Nina says. "And don't try to sneak it in. You think he looks like that by accident."
Luke smiles. "Thank you, Nina."
I look at my egg whites. Then at the protein shake like it personally offended me. "Can I at least have the yolks? They're here somewhere."
Delia picks up my Othello from the counter.
"I don't have to ask who's reading Shake-a-speare," she says.
"I want to play Desdemona someday."
"That's adorable. I have a real audition for you."
"You do?"
"Check your email. In this business you check your email and texts constantly."
"What is it?"
"Check your email."
I go to the bedroom to get my phone.
I scream.
I run back.
"Oh my God, its Private Paradise."
"Hold your water Sybil. It's only three lines."
"It's my favorite show."
"Good for you. Breathe. It's just an audition."
"How did you do this?"
"It’s my job."
I hug Delia.
"Is she going to cry?" Delia says.
"I need a reader."
"I'll read with you. I have a taping room downstairs," Luke says.
"You still audition?"
"Sometimes. I have a big one coming up. The Sentinel with Rebecca Anderson, right Delia?"
"I'm working on it," Delia says.
"You're doing a movie with Rebecca Anderson? She's brilliant."
"Yes she is. And I'm getting that part."
"Which brings me to tonight." Delia closes her notebook. "There's a party in Malibu. Industry people, press. Rebecca Anderson should be there." She looks at Luke. "I got you an invite. Go there and do your thing."
"I like the way you think," Luke says.
"FYI, she's about to get divorced. Not announced yet, but it's happening."
"How do you know that?"
"She knows things," Luke looks at me. "You need to suit up."
"I'm going?"
"What the hell do you think you're doing here?" Delia says.
"I don't have clothes for a party in Malibu."
"No shit. Take her shopping. I would but I have a job. Make her pretty but she's not Scarlett Johansson. She's Rachel McAdams."
Luke nods.
"But first." Delia looks at me. "We need to talk."
Luke stands. "I'm going swimming."
Nina leaves the kitchen.
They both know something's coming.
Just me and Delia now.
I hear Luke splash into the pool.
"There's only one way to say this," Delia says.
"Okay. I won't take it personally."
"Take it any way you want, I don't give a shit." She holds my eye. "You need to lose ten pounds."
"Ten pounds?"
"Maybe fifteen."
I sit with that for a second.
She puts a small box on the table.
"What is that?"
"The savior. Some people call it GLP-1."
"Doesn't that have side effects?"
"Yes. It's called weight loss. And a career."
"You think losing fifteen pounds will get me parts."
"You think you're on earth but you're on planet Hollywood." She sits back. "Or if you don't want the drugs, that guy right there will get you in shape."
"Okay. I can do it."
"Nina!"
Nina returns.
"Put her on the same diet as Luke," Delia says.
"What does she need to lose fifteen pounds for?"
I give Nina a dirty look.
"No bread," Nina says.
We walk to the open glass doors. Delia and Nina stand beside me.
Luke is doing laps in the pool. The water barely moves around him.
"He's like a fish," I say.
"Yeah," Delia says. "If you wanted to fuck a fish."
Beverly Hills on a Tuesday afternoon is its own particular version of Los Angeles.
Clean sidewalks. Slow traffic. Stores that don't put prices in the window because if you need to see the price you're already in the wrong place.
I walk beside Luke with my arms crossed slightly.
The first boutique is all minimalist white walls and racks spaced so far apart the clothes look lonely.
A saleswoman appears before we've made it three steps inside.
She is stunning. The kind of beautiful that makes you immediately aware of your own posture.
Dark hair, cheekbones, legs that go on forever in tailored trousers.
She looks at Luke the way women look at Luke, which is to say like he's the only person in the room.
Then she looks at me. Then back at Luke, with a smile doing several things at once.
"Luke. What are we looking for today?"
"Stephanie, we need something for a business event tonight."
She looks at me with the measuring expression of someone who does this professionally.
I go through the rack.
“Buy a lot of women’s clothes do you?”
“I do,” he says.
The first dress I pick is floor length. Dark green. A neckline that covers everything and a silhouette that hides the rest.
"No," Luke says.
"You haven't seen it on."
"I don't need to."
I put it back. Move down the rack. Pull out something navy, structured, safe.
"Anna."
"What?"
"Let Stephanie help you."
"I'm fat."
"You're not fat."
Stephanie steps forward with three options draped over her arm. Fitted. Intentional. The kind of dresses that understand they're going to be photographed.
"She's not fat, is she?" Luke asks her.
She looks at me with genuine warmth. "You're perfect just the way you are."
"See," Luke says.
"Oh really, thank you."
I take the least revealing option into the fitting room.
I come out.
"No," Luke says.
"Luke—"
"You're hiding."
I go back in.
The second dress is better. He still shakes his head.
The third one I hold up outside the fitting room door and make a face.
"I'm not wearing this."
It's black. Short. The kind of dress that requires a certain commitment.
"Try it on, Anna."
I go back there again. The dress is fighting me.
"Need help?" the saleswoman asks.
"No, I got it."
I step out. Look in the mirror.
"There, it's not so bad."
I adjust myself.
They look at me. They look at each other.
"What now?"
"Well, you have it on backwards," Stephanie says.
I walk back inside.
She follows me. "Let me help. The zipper is tricky."
She has it sorted in thirty seconds, one smooth zip up the back, a small adjustment at the shoulder.
"There," she says quietly.
She slips back out.
I stand in front of the mirror.
It fits. Barely.
I open the door.
I put one hand on the door frame.
"I look like a stripper," I say.
He really looks.
"You’ve never been to a strip club in your life.”
"That is not?—"
"You're an actress." He holds my eye. "Act like one."
"It's too short," I say.
"It's the right length."
"You would say that."
"Remember that time you made me watch Grease?"
"Yeah."
"I love that movie," Stephanie says.
"That chick — Olivia what's her name?"
"Olivia Newton-John," I say.
"Right. She was like the good girl and then at the end she became this sexy kitten badass. But when she was the good girl, she was still pretty fucking hot." He looks at me. "That's you."
"I got chills, they're multiplying," Stephanie says.
In the mirror behind him I can see the saleswoman watching Luke watch me.
I go back into the fitting room and close the door.
I stand there in the dress for another moment.
My heart is doing the thing again.
"Help."
Stephanie comes to help me out of it.
I come out.
He looks at me too long and something low in my stomach tightens before I can stop it.
"We'll take it," he says to the saleswoman.
She smiles at me. "Do we need underwear?"
"Yes," he says.
"No, no one is going to see my underwear, I promise you that."
"It's for you. You will feel sexier in the underwear. Like a character, right? Remember that class we took on costume. The clothes make you move differently."
"Fine, let's see some underwear but you wait outside."
"Get her a shoe with a heel too."
Luke goes outside. "I have calls to make."
"Can I tell you something," she says. "I wish I had a guy that cared like this."
I don't say anything, like this is all fake.