Chapter Two
‘Babe, are you sure about this?’ The array of jewelled cocktail rings on Chloe’s fingers clinked against the glass of her Picante.
‘Oh, cheers, by the way, to being the spiciest little nugget in cinema.’ She raised her glass to me and I rolled my eyes while giving her the cheers she was clearly looking for.
Everything felt that bit better when it was just us tucked up in a corner booth in Chloe’s members’ club, no more studio execs.
I’d even managed to get Mum to head home, which was a feat in itself.
‘Not the spiciest little nugget just yet. But yes, I’m sure,’ I sighed.
‘It’s not like I could get out of doing the kiss altogether – it’s in the book, I’m locked in, I have to do it, I knew it was coming, it’s always been on the horizon.
So why not make the most of it? Why not turn it to my advantage. ’
‘Fuck yes!’ she said, bobbing her head as her curls seemed to move independently of her body.
‘How spicy do we think is spicy?’ I asked, taking a sip of my cocktail. ‘As spicy as this cocktail or spicy like that chicken you had at Thai Diner in New York that made you beg a God you don’t believe in for mercy?’
‘Somewhere between the two, I’m thinking. And please don’t remind me of one of my rare moments of humiliation. I still haven’t got over Jake Gyllenhaal being at the next table! Not exactly ideal for one of my dream clients to offer to give me the Heimlich manoeuvre!’
‘Good job you don’t have a very distinctive look and a big reputation.’ I bit my lip to stop myself laughing. ‘He probably wouldn’t remember you.’
‘Ha ha. Anyway, this isn’t about me.’
‘Oh, but I like it when it’s about you! It’s more fun when it’s about you! I don’t understand why I’m the famous one and you aren’t. You seem much better suited to it all than me.’
‘Remember, babe, you’re an actor. All the fame stuff is just a distraction. Your job is acting. And you’re great at it. Which is why this Wonderwick spicy kiss, titty-touching extravaganza is going to be a breeze for you!’ She shrugged.
I gasped in horror. ‘Do you think I’m going to have to go topless? They wouldn’t, would they?!’
‘Oh they’d try, but there’s no way they can make you. Maybe a hint of side boob if I read the vibe correctly,’ she said, lightly. ‘But just a hint, obviously.’
The thought of it struck fear into my heart, but I knew I had to push myself out of my comfort zone. I could do side boob, couldn’t I? I swallowed down my nerves and put on a smile. ‘Or maybe a bit of underboob?’
‘Why not both!’ Chloe raised her glass in the air. It was almost empty – classic Chloe, I could never keep up with her. I checked the time – we had a little bit of downtime before the party that evening and there was no one I’d rather spend it with than her. ‘So, how are the studies going?’
‘Très bien,’ I said with my best French accent. ‘I feel like I’m actually getting somewhere now I’ve started reading books and listening to podcasts.’
‘Next thing you know you’ll be getting Glen to broker deals for even less money in French indie movies.’
‘Don’t say that in front of my mum.’
‘I think it’s a very cool way to use your time between films.’
‘It’s my way of reclaiming my education from the world of on-set tutors. Who are great, of course, but it was all a bit rushed.’
‘Oh, you don’t need to tell me – I’ve seen it with my own eyes, people from the production team literally standing in the tutor room with a stopwatch so the child actors don’t do a minute over the legal minimum.’
‘I wish you’d been around when I first started on Wonderwick,’ I said, wistfully.
‘If my maths is math-ing, when you first started on Wonderwick I was in the middle of my first ever internship. I thought I was such a grown-up but I was only nineteen.’
‘You’ve come a long way in seven years.’
Chloe had only been my publicist for the past couple of years, but in that time she had become my most trusted friend.
That was the thing about being famous: you never really knew who wanted to get to know you because you’re you and who wanted to get to know you because you’re You.
At least with Chloe I already had that business relationship, and she certainly wasn’t one to care about how famous someone was.
‘Says you!’
‘Have I really, though?’ I asked, a little awkwardly. ‘I don’t feel like I’ve gone anywhere at all. I’m still little Linderley Jones from the Wonderwick Woods series.’
‘You’re a gorgeous young woman, a baby style icon and a very talented actress. You’re not just the kid who went to an open audition and fell into acting by chance anymore.’
For someone like Josh, life was all planned out: as the son of huge Hollywood producers, he was always going to go into the entertainment industry and none of his career was any surprise at all. But there was no grand plan for me. It just happened and now, seven years later, here I was.
‘I know,’ I said, taking the final sip of my Picante. ‘It makes me the luckiest girl in the world.’ I meant it: even amid the trials and tribulations of being part of a huge Hollywood franchise, I couldn’t believe my luck.
‘Stop talking about luck.’ Chloe batted the idea away like it was an annoying fly in the room. ‘Josh is lucky. You, my friend, are talented.’
‘We’d better get going, my publicist will kill me if I miss the red carpet for the video-game launch,’ I said with a smile.
She points at me as we slide out of the booth. ‘Hey, make sure a book is poking out of your bag for @WhatsEmilyReading!’
‘I’m not trying to force it, Chlo!’
‘I know you’re not, but it’s still a cute, fun little thing, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, I guess it is,’ I said, unable to disguise the delight in my voice.
@WhatsEmilyReading was a spin-off of one of the Emily Montgomery fan pages on Instagram, charting the books I was seen out and about with.
Because I was never without a book. The idea filled me with horror.
At first I thought they were just going to post for a couple of weeks and then the fun would wear off, but instead it gained traction, and with it more and more followers.
So I decided to play along too – making sure I was always holding a book, or one was poking out of a pocket or visible from the top of my bag, something they could either instantly identify or have fun trying to figure out what it was.
It had become enjoyable for me, too, in a way, to bring attention to books I loved or things that I thought had flown under the radar, being able to help debut authors, and in general just getting more people reading.
I know, I know, it all sounded very typically Emily of me, but I couldn’t change who I was at my core, and that was a reader.
I read romance novels, literary fiction, thrillers, non fiction, fantasy, classics .
. . anything, really. I always had done.
That was what had led me to Wonderwick Woods, what had motivated me to go to an open audition all those years ago.
I was the fan who had fallen into the pages of a book and come out the other side famous – and with a high-risk level for spending the rest of my life typecast.
As we walked through Soho to the venue for the video-game launch, I got Chloe to fill me in on her ‘dating life’ as we politely called it.
‘What happened to the Spanish guy?’ I frown at the mention of an Amelia, a DJ she hadn’t told me about before.
‘Ernesto? He was too . . . earnest-o. Always wanted to fly me out to Madrid and send me flowers and introduce me to his family.’ She shuddered.
‘But Amelia is just right?’
‘Just right for now, anyway. The sex is incredible, she’s just so fun, you know? Everything feels like an adventure with her, like we’re properly exploring sex together.’
‘That sounds . . . nice.’
‘Yeah, it is, I guess,’ she said, bemused at my choice of adjective. ‘Anyway, what about you? Anyone caught your eye recently? Any of the male models at LFW? I bet I know some of their publicists, I could slide them your number.’
‘Absolutely not!’ I protested, shaking my head. ‘I date vicariously through you.’
‘You should think about, er, not doing that and maybe meeting someone nice yourself.’
‘Are you saying that as my best friend or my publicist?’
She shrugged. ‘Maybe both.’