Authors: Denyse Cohen
Audrey’s eyes widened.
“She has some 16x20 silver print I think you should take a look at … She’s new in town … No, not represented yet.”
Edward looked at Audrey who shook her head.
“When are you available? … Hold on, let me check.”
Edward moved the phone a few inches away from his mouth. “Are you free tomorrow around lunch?”
“Yes.”
“Lovely, she’ll meet you there,” he said, speaking into the phone again.
He glanced at her, sitting at the other side of the desk.
“Yes, very…Okay, bye.” He hung up, smiling.
“Ben has a gallery in North Hollywood. He can be a flippant arse sometimes, but he is mostly harmless.” He picked up the pictures again. “I bet you fifty bucks he’ll ask you out,” he said in a cautionary tone.
“I’d hate to waste his time,” Audrey said, half to herself.
“But you have some good work here. I think you should show it to him, perhaps he can do something. He’ll see you tomorrow at one.”
Audrey didn’t say anything, her eyes fixed somewhere beyond the walls, her expression blank.
“Audrey, I know sometimes we feel we’re not ready and the work we put out is not good enough. Believe me, every artist has had the same exact thought. At some point, you just have to put yourself out there and see what happens.”
“I suppose you’re right.” She looked at him and smiled.
He showed her one of her own photographs and said, “You have a definite voice and something to say in here. Don’t take that lightly.”
“I appreciate it, Edward.” Audrey was truly thankful for his words. She wanted to hang on to them like a mother holds a newborn baby, tenderly, carefully, so nothing will ever come to harm it.
• • •
In nearly five months in L.A, she witnessed how much the very dynamics of the city seem to work to keep people away from each other. It could take two hours to drive ten miles because of the mind-blowing traffic. But when she left Ben’s gallery in North Hollywood, not even that could ruin her mood.
i am taking you to dinner tonight, my treat.
She texted John as soon as she got in the car. It turned out Edward was right, Ben had asked her to dinner to “discuss further” the terms of his gallery’s representation. Luckily, he had already bought two of her photographs for five hundred dollars each, and invited her to participate in a group show at the end of October. Audrey politely told him she had plans — with her boyfriend, and saw his enthusiasm burn out like the flame of a jar candle covered by a heavy book.
Not long after she started the four-wheeled dance toward the interstate, her phone rang.
“I have good news,” she said.
“Tell me.” John said.
“You’re talking to a represented artist, who’s sold two photographs.”
“I knew you had this one, babe.”
“Thanks. And I’ll be in a group show in October.”
“Cool. What about?”
“Time.” Audrey was so happy the thick mass of cars as she merged onto I-134 East didn’t phase her. “Do you want to go to the Argentinian Place on Green?”
“Oh, babe. Bill is getting into town tonight and we’re all supposed to have this dinner with Tim and Jennifer to talk about the new tour.”
“Oh.”
“Jennifer told me only thirty minutes ago. I was about to call you. I didn’t want to interrupt your meeting. Why don’t you come with us?”
“Business dinner? With Bill?”
“I’ll tell you what. I’ve heard we’re eating at the Polo Lounge. Supposedly, Tim loves the chef there. I’ll get us a room and we can celebrate afterwards.”
“At the Beverly Hills Hotel? John, it’s too expensive.” Even as she said it, she felt a surge of excitement tingling her fingers.
“I think the occasion calls for it.”
“Hah, you’re the one on the top charts. We didn’t do anything special when you got signed.”
“Yes, I think we did.”
She blushed and remembered them walking out of a storage closet inconspicuously after a quickie at a bar in Silver Lake. The band and Audrey had made friends with the bartender while living at the Atlantis house. They’d gone there to celebrate and the bartender had let them use a back door to go outside and smoke in peace, since the front entrance was always jammed with people. She didn’t smoke, but she had walked out with John, and his eyes changed when she took a drag from his cigarette, still in his fingers.
“You’re so sexy,” he said as she exhaled the smoke. She’d helped his hand between the buttons of her dress, threw his cigarette out, and led him to the — doorless — closet she’d noticed on their way out. From a dark corner of the room, behind a shelf stocked with cleaning supplies, they could hear the waiters walking on the corridor. If any of them had made a left turn instead of right, in search of paper towels or a mop, he or she would had been in for a big surprise. John was motionless, completely taken aback by her initiative. She felt powerful, invincible. When she unbuckled his belt, he pleadingly murmured her name, but she muffled the sound taking his mouth into hers, then knelt down and his entire body quivered.
She put the phone on speaker as a police car passed her. “That was momentary insanity, it doesn’t count.”
“‘Momentary insanity?’ Isn’t it what guilty people say to get out of trouble?”
“Innocent until proven otherwise.”
“Come on, babe. We deserve it. But if it makes you feel better, I might be able to write it off as an expense.”
“Getting corporate savvy already?”
“I’m trying to make lemonade,” he mused.
“Okay, sure. It will be great. I just hate to see you spending money unnecessarily.”
“I’d give all I have.”
On the Fourth of July weekend, Matt and Tyler rented a house in Malibu and threw a party on Saturday night. The house was starting to fill up. Bill had flown in with his wife, and Kevin brought his latest hook-up, a model he’d met in a magazine’s after-party. They stood in the doorway between the living and dining room, Kevin’s face woozy, his fingers playing with a string on his date’s peasant blouse.
Matt and Jennifer were sitting on the couch, giggling. Jennifer? Huh. She didn’t look like the kind of girl who would go for the sweet-and-nerdy type. Sharp and sleek, she seemed like the type of woman who would favor power-suits and thick wallets. Audrey tried to dismiss her judgmental thoughts and hoped Jennifer would be sharp enough to realize she had the best seat in the house. Then she continued to look for John, squeezing past a group of unrecognizable people into the kitchen. She saw Tyler leaning against the kitchen table, talking to a couple of girls he must have fished out from the beach, both wearing shorty shorts and bikini tops.
“Have you seen John?” Audrey asked, opening the refrigerator.
“Uh-uh.” Tyler answered without taking his eyes from the girls.
Geez, thanks for the attention. You know how to make a girl feel special.
She grabbed a beer and sauntered back into the living room. A gust of ocean wind coated her face as a couple walked in through the sliding doors that led to the beach. Looking in that direction, she saw John and Bill smoking on the deck, ashtray on the rail between them.
“Audrey!” A voice cut across the room, stopping her mid-step. Her heart sank. Sharon.
Bill’s wife hustled over, all lips and cleavage, and Audrey groaned inwardly as Sharon’s acrylic nails touched her arm.
“Isn’t this wonderful?” Sharon waved her half-empty margarita glass at the room.
“Yeah.” She could be referring to the party or the house, but Audrey chose the answer she hoped would stop Sharon from elaborating. Since they’d arrived at the beach house, Audrey had listened, exhausted and bored, to Sharon’s life story: marriage, Bill, divorce, marriage — to Bill, liposuction, boobs.
Audrey glanced longingly outside, John and Bill still had their backs to the house. She wished she could communicate to John telepathically and ask for help.
“You need a refill.” She looked down at Sharon’s glass.
“Girl, you’re one of mine.” Sharon winked and squeezed Audrey’s arm.
Hardly.
Audrey smiled and pulled her arm away as Sharon wobbled to the kitchen looking for the pitcher of margaritas.
Audrey rushed to the door as if swimming away from a shark. When she stepped outside and the breeze danced around her, she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. Finally, John was only five steps away.
“I’m just saying, this is not the best time to be in a serious relationship. You can have any — ” Bill was talking while fanning himself with the collar of his shirt when he saw her.
Audrey stopped between the second and third step, caught somewhere between hurt and anger.
“Babe.” John snagged Audrey in an embrace.
“Am I interrupting?” She didn’t take her eyes off of Bill who stubbed his cigarette and looked at her, expressionless.
“No, of course not. Want to go for a walk?” John said.
Audrey nodded, and as they walked down the wood steps toward the beach, she heard Sharon squeaking at Bill.
• • •
The sky was the color of amethyst, the last rays of sunset lingered in the horizon. They walked on the beach with their arms locked around each other, her hand in his pocket and his on her waist.
“What is going on?” she asked soberly.
“Nothing. Bill is just being Bill.”
“You mean, a sleaze-bag prick?”
“Yes, pretty much.” He chuckled.
Audrey could tell he was tired, exhausted really. John had always been the one taking care of everyone, mediating the conflicts and dealing with the problems. Maybe he’d had enough, and for an instant, she felt her throat close up by the thought she could also be part of the reason John seemed unhappy.
“John, uh … if something is bothering you, if you’re not sure … just tell me. I know a lot has changed. I — I want to see you happy.”
He stopped, hugged her and kissed her forehead, his tender, shy eyes sparkled underneath his long eyelashes.
“The only thing I’m sure right now is that, for the rest of my life, I don’t want to be apart from you — not for a second.”
“But Bill — ”
“Bill?” John snorted. “A guy like Bill can’t begin to comprehend my feelings for you. Why bother explaining?” He moved his hands gently across her spine. “The only thing I needed him to understand is I’m not going to be Atlantis’s puppet.”
She rested her head on his chest and she could hear his heart beat. She closed her eyes to take it all in; the warmth of his breath on her hair, the strength of his arms around her, the smell of the ocean in front of them. She didn’t believe in prayers like her mother did, but in that moment, she sent out a thought to the Universe hoping someone, something, will hear it — and answer it.
Please keep this man, this good man — my love — from suffering.
• • •
Despite Bill’s presence hovering over John like a vulture circling around a carcass, the party was not bad. After the sunset, fireworks exploded sporadically in the sky, coloring the sand and waves red, white, and blue. Neither Megan nor Charlie showed up, so she talked to some of the people she knew from Atlantis. She also recognized some of the girls, models she’d seen at Edwards, probably friends of Kevin’s date.
“Matt, I haven’t talked to you all night.” Audrey met him at the fridge when they both went for another beer.
“I don’t want to talk to you. You’re taken.” He handed her a beer, twisted his own open, and threw his arm around her shoulders.
“I see how it is, unless I serve your specific purpose I’m not good even for frivolous conversation.” She shook his arm off of her as they strolled off the kitchen.
“I’d be glad to chat — but — I’ve spent half of the night chatting with a girl who is as unlikely to sleep with me as you.” He gulped his beer. “I have some catching up to do if I want to get laid tonight.” He clicked his beer bottle on hers.
“Are you talking about Jennifer? I thought you guys had hit it off.”
“Nope.” He leaned closer and whispered, “I think her bells ring for someone else,” then, turned his head, and Audrey followed his gaze to the corner of the other room. Jennifer was talking to John and a couple she didn’t recognize. Her blue eyes flickered at John and her body language was all about seduction. She tossed her hair to the side and slid her fingers down her neck to play with a pendant sitting above her breasts. Then, her hand touched John’s arm and she laughed as if he’d said the funniest joke in the world.
“You’re kidding, right?” Audrey said.
“Right.” Matt grinned sarcastically and made his way to the porch where Tyler was sitting with Bill and a bunch of other people.
It was great to have a woman friend, especially someone who wasn’t involved in the music business. Megan was hilarious, with a blunt sense of humor accompanied by a surprisingly dirty mouth. Audrey loved it.
“I love this song,” Megan said when “North Star” started playing on the radio while they were driving to go get a drink after a drawing session. Charlie was on an assignment, so the night was testosterone-free.
Audrey smiled, but didn’t say anything. She had told Megan she had a boyfriend, but not who he was. So far, L.A. had been about the band and “North Star’s” consequential focus on her love life. Audrey was just getting away from the media’s scrutiny. She didn’t presume she was a celebrity, but she damn sure was not going to attract any attention to who her boyfriend was, and that his success was propelled by a song he wrote for her.
“How come you didn’t come to the party?” Audrey said, thinking if Megan had made it her comment about “North Star” would be different.
“My parents came to visit me. They feel guilty because they’ve booked a cruise for Thanksgiving.”
“So, they came celebrate Thanksgiving in July?”
“Pretty much.” Megan snorted. “I got totally screwed. Had to hang with mom and dad on the sexiest holiday of the year and I’ll have no family during the most boring holiday of the year.”
“How about Valentine’s Day? Isn’t that the sexiest holiday of the year?”
“No way. Too much pressure and freaking winter. Fourth of July is all about drinking, having sex on the warm sand, and watching fireworks while you come.”