Starlet's Web (The Starlet Series, #1) (21 page)

 

My cell rang as I drove home from school. It was Celia.

“Hi!” I answered.

“Happy Birthday, Liana Marie! Do you feel free now that you're eighteen?”

“I feel relief. I want to go to Grandma's after graduation. Mom wants to go with me to Montana, too. Will you have any time off? I could plan around your or Tom's work schedule.”

“Hmm. I can't get away. Maybe Tom can. I'll have him check and get back to you. I only have a minute to give you your happy wishes. Before I go, I still haven't received a copy of the “Muse” contract from Martin or Michelle. Something is fishy—I can feel it. Can you try to get it? I want you to know that I'm concerned so you can be careful but I don't want to scare you. I have no evidence, just a feeling.”

“Yeah, sure, there's a copy of the contract in my safe deposit box. I'm too tired to get it today. I have to rest before my birthday party. Can I get it to you tomorrow? I think the bank is open on Saturday.”

Celia affirmed, “Yes, the bank is open, so that's totally fine. Use the home fax. I won't be able to get to it until tomorrow afternoon anyway. So sorry I have to run. Love you and happy birthday.”

“Thanks. Love you, too.”

I parked in the garage and closed the garage door. I still had that Oscar dress in the back of my car. I tried to take it to a second hand store, but I couldn't do it. My own hesitation caught me off guard. One the one hand, it was worth quite a chunk of money—the dress cost $8,000 when it was made for me, but it was a gift from the designer who is now the “it” guy. Donating it for a charitable event/auction would be socially responsible, but it was my crucifix. It reminded me of the obligations I had to the many people who built my brand. I pulled the dress out of the trunk and hung it back in my closet. I decided not to think about the dress. It was my birthday. I needed a nap and fell asleep.

“Darling! You must get up!” Franz woke me. “We need to get fab-u-lous.”

I woke up and extended my arms for him to hug me. He leaned over and pulled me out of bed, cradling me. “Happy birthday, Marie! I love you, darling.”

I smiled as I stood up. “Love you, too, Franz. I've missed you every day.”

Rex hired Franz as his stylist and both Mom and I loved him. He personally looked over-the-top trendy, but he dressed his clients perfectly. His clothes did not flatter his own body because he had a false sense of self, but he knew his client's body type and chose the most flattering clothes imaginable. I asked Franz to prepare me for tonight and to select the clothes Manuel would wear. My birthday party was a public event. I hoped Manuel could handle it. It was our first public date and I did not want him to feel scrutinized. I emailed Franz Manuel's sizes and he got Manuel something casual but stylish. I hoped Manuel wouldn't feel stupid in the designer clothes.

I took a five-minute shower and put on my robe. Franz was ready for me in Mom's bathroom. He started on my hair while I buffed my nails. When he finished with my hair, he was on to the makeup. I read a textbook. Franz finished before I finished reading.

“I have just one more section to read. Is it okay?” I asked.

“Sure, darling! You look stunning as always. You're a masterpiece. They say you're the modern day Mona Lisa. It's such a pleasure to work on your exquisite canvas. Your features allow such versatility!” Franz fiddled with my hair again.

“I see you in movies and in ads, but seeing you in person with makeup on just freaks me out,” Manuel interrupted. He had arrived and was standing in the doorway looking confused and mad, actually. With little warmth in his voice, Manuel added, “Hi, Franz.”

I laughed, trying to lighten his mood. “You're dating a celebrity. Sorry.” It didn't work. Manuel's face was sullen.

“Right on time,” Franz announced, clearly annoyed. He expected a glowing compliment from Manuel, not the torch of brooding energy emanating from Manuel's being. “Please get into your clothes. I put them in Marie's closet.”

“What clothes?”

Manuel could be so clueless. His negativity was still searing the room. I explained, “I bought you some clothes for tonight. It's going to be hard enough for you to see yourself online and in the tabloids. Are you sure you want to come tonight? I want to show you off but won't be hurt if you bail.”

“Oh, right. Of course I'm coming, Marie.” He left to get dressed. Franz and I raised our eyebrows to communicate the apprehension we experienced. Within seconds after Manuel left, we felt lighter.

Franz added, “Darling, yours are here.” He pointed to Mom's walk in closet. “You only need Spanx. The bra is built in. I'll zip you up.”

I changed into a very sexy dress. It was a fitted wool jersey scarlet cocktail dress. It was short to show off my legs and had a deep V-neck to show off my natural breasts. The hem was lined with blue and purple sequins. It fit perfectly and was quite comfortable. The beautiful shoes were an open-toed red leather with a purple stiletto heel. I was going to struggle with them and would put them on at the last possible moment. Bummer.

“I love the dress, Franz. You're amazing. Thank you!”

“You're eighteen now so you can finally show off your so very hot assets.”

Franz zipped me. He twirled me in my bare feet. We did a salsa, a little shuffle. I kissed his cheek. He beamed with pride, smiling appraisingly.

Manuel was in the doorway, clearing his throat.

Franz frowned and sulked as he cleaned up his artist's tools.

“I think you look
hot
!” I said to Manuel. He wore a black stretch knit fitted cotton tee that showed off his strong chest and biceps and dark jeans with a handsome belt. The belt had an interesting buckle that was mostly covered by the hem of the tee. His chest seemed bigger than normal and his waist was thinner. The jeans were perfect but had some bling on them, which I knew he hated. The shoes seemed nice, too.

Wow, I thought to myself. A tingle ran down my spine.

“Thanks,” he grumbled.

Franz raised his eyebrows at me, afraid to point out that Manuel needed some more work. “The hair? Could I?”

“Oh, of course, Franz. Thanks.” I answered. I pointed to the chair and glanced at Manuel. “Manuel, please sit here. Franz will only take a minute.”

“What? No.” Manuel did not budge from where he stood. Now the torch discharged hostility. Poor Franz.

“Manuel, be good. This will only take a minute and it won't kill you. Please, for me, for your mom's scrapbook.”

“Fine,” Manuel pouted and slammed his body down into the chair. Franz and I ignored his little temper tantrum. I put on my jewelry and shoes.

Franz wet Manuel's hair, put some gel in it, plucked his eyebrows, dusted his face and was done within five minutes. Manuel was agitated and his body was tense.

“Thank you, Franz! Manuel, you look great.”

Manuel did not look at himself in the mirror and stormed out of the bathroom. I shrugged an apology to Franz and kissed his cheek.  Then I followed Manuel into the kitchen.

“Manuel, why the hostility? You don't have to do this.”

“Yes I do. It's your birthday.”

“No. I'd rather not go with you if you're going to be mad the whole time. It's hard enough for me to go in the first place since I get so nervous. Seriously, Manuel, what's wrong?”

He sighed. “I'm just not sure about your birthday present and got into an argument with my mom. She thinks my dad and I ganged up on her. It's just…” He shook his head. “This day isn't going well.”

“It's okay if you bail. I'll come home right after they sing me Happy Birthday and cut the cake and then we can celebrate my birthday together.”

“No. Just stop going on about it, Marie!” He immediately apologized. “I'm sorry. I'm your boyfriend and am coming to your party. I love you.”

Franz was coming to my party, too, so we left when he was ready. I figured Manuel made his choice and I would not take on any responsibility for his brooding. Holding hands, but not speaking to each other, Manuel and I walked with Franz outside to the waiting limo.

“Where's my driver, Sashi?” I asked the driver. I needed to be sure he was legitimate.

The driver responded in broken English, “He's sorry he could not make it. He left you this note.”

The note said,

“Happy 18
th
birthday, Liana Marie. I've seen many of your birthdays and am sorry to miss this one. Please don't offer anyone a ride with you. Be safe. I took vacation and will drive you soon. — Sashi.” 

I read my texts from Sage and confirmed that Sashi would not be driving me.

We all got into the limo and the new driver closed the door behind us. The trip to Malibu was quiet. Franz tried to fill the silence with ideas for what I'd wear to my summer awards shows. Manuel had his arm around me and kissed me several times but I could tell that he didn't want to look at me since I appeared differently from the girl he loved. That same girl was me, but I was also Marie Michael, the actor, or more accurately, I was Muse.

The first part of the party was at my favorite sushi restaurant off the PCH in Malibu. It was in a small strip mall with a grocery store anchor. I loved their black cod with miso, sea bass wrapped in bacon, and shrimp tempura sushi with filet mignon on the top. It was a small place so I only invited forty people for an intimate dinner. In planning the event, this was the part of the night I anticipated. Everyone there was special to me. I stayed in the same seat throughout the dinner and sat between Manuel and Mom who flew down for my birthday. She floored me when she gave me the title to our house on Flathead Lake in Montana. I loved going to our lake house, and it was now mine.

My guests moved about the room so that everyone had a chance to chat with me and meet Manuel. The music was low, so I didn't have to yell or struggle to hear the conversation. It was perfect.

Next was the main birthday event. In the same shopping center, we transformed a large, empty retail space into a hot dance party. The birthday party was more of a Muse promotion than anything else. I recognized some of the set's props in the decorations. We invited close to four hundred people and the press, of course.

Manuel did great the whole night. I introduced him to everyone and never left his side. He smiled but was definitely out of his element. He still had a hard time looking at me and mostly peeked at my chest when he did look at me. Being with Manuel made the night much better than any event I had gone to alone.

The party planner took me from Manuel to the center of the room for me to receive my birthday cake and blow out the candles. The cake was a several-tiered light pink fondant with white bows. The number “18” was on the ribbon of the bow. It was a beautiful cake. Everyone sang Happy Birthday and then I blew out the candles to a rushing sound of camera clicks. I smiled for the cameras and thanked everyone for celebrating with me.

I slowly made my way back to Manuel. He had not left the place from where he was standing with me before the cake presentation.

“You ready to go?” I asked Manuel.

We could barely hear each other even though we were right next to one another. He practically yelled, “Can we do that? It's your party?”

I took his hand and headed toward the front door. The music was not as loud there. I said, “Exactly. It's my party and I can do whatever I want.”

He questioned, “But shouldn't you stay? Do you want a piece of your cake?”

I said, “I can't eat cake. But you can get a piece if you'd like.”

“I'd rather go, but I don't understand why you want to leave your own party. I can see that you're having an amazing time.”

I watched him , felt his unease, and shook my head. I always left these parties early because I didn't like them. I was uncomfortable, hiding my nervousness. But he watched me and had decided that I was having a great time. I
was
an actor. Self-promotion was the key to getting a good role, key to success, and a very important, integral part of the business. Even though I was free from some contracts, I was bound to Muse. I had a responsibility to enjoy my own party.

He probably worried that this was far better than prom. I was used to the scene. I did like the people, but I couldn't compare it to the prom or to being with him. This was different, but not better.

I explained, “Rule #1: the people in this business are in this business because they want, seek, and must have attention. Psych studies have shown that 50-60% of Americans see themselves as introverts, not extroverts. You have an entire room full of extroverts here, with the exception of us, who are energized from the crowd.  You and I are drained from it. Rule #2: the extroverts here will not notice if we leave my party. Rule #3: Hollywood parties are excessive and indulgent. That does not mean they are
better
than other types of gatherings with friends.”