Starlet's Web (The Starlet Series, #1) (3 page)

My kiss was as unwelcome to Manuel as Byron's kisses were to me. I blinked quickly and willed myself to act normal.

Manuel grabbed his bike helmet and sunglasses. “Don't do that to me, Marie. I'm not an actor.” He shook his head at me and sighed. “That was mental.”

He put on his bike helmet, then dropped his glasses, tripped over himself getting them, and finally stood upright. He breathed purposefully, relaxed his shoulders, and added, “Maybe now that you're single, you don't fight your feelings with Byron and you go with it.”

Clearly Manuel didn't love me as a girlfriend. Breathing was getting harder to do but I controlled my tear ducts. I admitted, “It doesn't matter anymore.”

Manuel pinched his eyebrows in question.

I joked to lighten the mood, “Resistance is futile.”

“An Oscar nominee who's a Star Trek geek,” he laughed. He grinned as he exhaled again. His hands relaxed. He forgave me for crossing the line.

He opened his arms. I walked to him and we embraced, as siblings do. I relaxed into his warmth, thankful he loved me even though it was platonic. He felt so much responsibility for people: keeping Beth safe, making time for me, and helping out his sister. Good thing I knew where I stood with him romantically. Good thing I didn't tell him that I was in love with him.

“I've gotta go. Beth gets so mad when I'm late but I had to see you.” He let go, covered those beautiful eyes with his sunglasses, and got on his bike. “I can't wait to go off to college and just study and do this training all the time. Life is going to be so awesome next fall!”

“Ride safely, Manuel.”  I needed him to leave as soon as possible.

“Love ya, Marie.”

Despair overwhelmed me as I watched him ride off. I forced myself through the privacy of the front gate and collapsed on the flagstone patio and cried, destroyed from double heartbreak. I thought about calling Evan, telling him Manuel's reaction, and begging him to forgive me for not loving him enough. But I loved Evan too much to have him live a lie by dating me in secret. It was over.

I went inside when I heard a car drive up, the first of the paparazzi to arrive. I had only been home for an hour and my entire perspective had changed. I had no idea how I could possibly keep working. I wanted Manuel.

 

“Darling, you look stunning from the back. I told you that you can pull off a plunging back.” Franz added, “You've got the best figure in the business.”

“But she's seventeen,” Mom interrupted. “We've talked about this. Your job as her stylist is to maintain her brand as a wholesome teenaged actor.”

Franz's face fell as I turned around so Mom could see the dress. Mom had the smooth, glowing skin of a woman in her late twenties even though she was forty.  She was Michelle Michael, Oscar winning actor and Hollywood sweetheart. We called ourselves ‘actors'.  The word “actress” was outdated. We
all
were actors, all equal, even though we females showed so much more skin.

“It looks great,” Mom concluded. “But cover her up, and she must wear a bra. Try the next, dear.”

Franz raised his eyebrows at me and the first designer who was messing with the back. We had two more gowns to try, complementary dresses from up-and-coming designers who were there for the gown selection. Mom and I were so busy that it was the only way we could arrange the dress fittings. The designer of the second dress put the second gown on me and fussed with the back zipper.

Mom responded. “No. You can't just throw on some tulle at the bottom hem because I objected that the dress was too short. Thank you for your time. Next.”

The designer slouched. I wondered how many free man-hours it took to get to this point but agreed with Mom. He made a way too short dress with a plunging neckline and then slapped on some see-through scratchy fabric as a fix. Franz shook the designer's hand while I stepped out of the dress.

Franz hurried to get me into the last dress. He whispered, “Darling, look more confident. Don't show weakness, please.”

I smiled at him but his smile was gone, replaced by focused eyes and pursed lips. We entered the adjoining hotel room together.

Mom smiled. “Marie, please twirl.”

The dress felt heavy and confining. The train dragged from the weight and the bodice cut into my breasts.

“Franz, you know I love you but you struck out today. You're the best stylist in the business but you're getting weak, flaunting her curves. Be stronger.” Mom considered me again, “Darling, how does that one feel?”

“It's fine, just heavy in the back. The bodice should be let out a little. It cuts into me.” I learned that it didn't matter how the dress felt. She'd choose the one that accomplished the look she had in mind. Without much hope, I added, “The first dress is more comfy.”

Mom came over to me and pulled up on the dress. “Franz, she's up for a Globe and an Oscar and is absolutely terrified that she will win. We need to make this as comfortable as possible.”

I played the Muse character in
Jefferson's Muse
. She is a mythological muse who takes human form as an eighteen-year-old and never changes through time. She comes into the lives of men, inspires them, they love her, the men move on to greatness, and she tries again to find love and meaning for herself. I'm able to portray characters of different races because my natural features are so ambiguous. I can use makeup to darken or lighten my skin color for different characters, and my hair can be dyed or hidden under a wig.

She waved the designer to come over. “This is her Oscar gown. The bodice shows way too much cleavage. Remove the train to lighten the dress, and she needs straps. Put the weight on her shoulders.” She raised her eyebrows at Franz. “Fix the first dress for tonight.”

“Absolutely, Michelle,” Franz confirmed.

Mom smiled at me. “I'm overwhelmed, dear.” She held my hand and closed her eyes. “Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference.” She squeezed my hand. “You look amazing in both dresses, Marie, but you should also look your age.”

“Mom, now I really am scared about tonight.”

“My little introvert,” Mom smiled, “don't be scared about tonight. You're not going to win the Globes. We didn't campaign for you since your audience has been so critical of your success. Just enjoy yourself with Richard, Grant, and Matthew. You deserve the recognition.”

Muse inspires two men: the twenty-six-year-old Thomas Jefferson, played by Matthew Thorne, and a slave, played by Grant Bell. We had just won several awards: People's Choice Favorite Movie, Favorite Movie Actor for Grant, Favorite Actress for me, Favorite Drama Movie, Favorite On Screen Team for Matthew, Grant and me, and Favorite Movie Star Under 25 for me. I won the Screen Actors Guild award for Outstanding Performance by a Female Actor in a Leading Role and Critics' Choice Best Actress.

“I sure hope you're right that I won't win, Mom. I'm not in the mood. We made a mistake. I miss Evan already.”

“I'm so sorry, dear.” She whispered, “It was the only way to get you back on top. If I were a young actor today, I wouldn't have been able to handle such quick shifts in public opinion. Social media is a cruel bully. Be careful not to read anything or go online. Okay, honey?”

I nodded. I always nodded and smiled.

 

Matthew leaned into me and talked into my ear, “Marie, I'm so proud of you. Good job, kiddo. You were heroic sitting there all night and clapping for the winners. You lost with grace.”

“Thanks,” I smiled. “Good job to you, sitting there knowing you deserved to at least be nominated.” Matthew was not much taller than me when I wore heels. He was 5'10” and famous for his six pack abs. He could also act.

“Thanks. I've got a present for you. I'm assuming you get to bail now that the Globes are over. Can I bum a ride with you and give it to you in your limo?”

“I'll have to ask my mom.” Mom was home. She only cared about four annual award shows. I studied his face. “You're not staying to work the after-party?”

He smiled at me and his eyes searched the room. “You didn't come in with your mom. She's not here.” He waved to Grant. “I'll get far more publicity getting into that limo with you tonight. Please do me the favor?”

Grant kissed me a Hollywood hello, a quick kiss on the lips. “Hey baby, love you. That was an ultimate F.U. that we didn't win.”

“It's alright. Love you, Grant.” Grant was gorgeous, an excellent actor, and a genuine person. He gave the best performance of any actor but was overlooked by the Globes and the Academy because he was a new actor and the Academy members didn't know his work, not because he was African American.

Grant shook Matthew's hand. “I heard you already moved to Brentwood?”

“Yeah,” Matthew confirmed. “I can't afford it yet, but at least I got out of the dump in L.A. My agent said my next royalty check will be even bigger. All of ours will be thanks to all these awards we're winning.”

Grant agreed, “I know, right. But I'm still in my dump. I want to see the money first, see how many people own a piece of me, before I spend it. My agent warned me that it's like the Colorado River and I'm Mexico.”

Matthew patted Grant's shoulder. Someone signaled to Grant to meet someone influential. Matthew smiled at me and handed me a card and a jewelry box. I read the card. It was a sweet thank you. I opened the box. He gave me a pair of amber and diamond earrings.

“They match your incredible eyes. I thought they'd look so beautiful on you. Do you like them?”

“Yes, thank you. They're really pretty.” I grinned at him and his eyes twinkled. I put the card and earrings in my handbag and smiled at him. I wasn't afraid of him.

“I'm glad.” He smiled, put his hands in his pockets, and leaned forward, “Can we please get out of here? You can drop me off at my condo on your way home.”

We left without me texting Mom for permission.

Heading in my limo to Santa Monica, Matthew admitted that he wanted me. I was surprised and flattered. My gorgeous co-star thought I was hot? Wow. Cool. But I didn't know what to do. He was a man, and I was off-limits to a man. I kissed a lot of guys at parties, but that was just for fun, and all men knew that Martin, the best lawyer in Hollywood, represented me and would lock them up for statutory rape.

“Matthew, what are you doing?” I asked as he unzipped my dress. “I don't want to do it with you.”

Everyone I knew had an awful casual-sex experience. I was not going to do it with someone I didn't love. I loved Evan, and we didn't. I certainly wouldn't be doing it with Matthew.

He reassured me, “Okay. No intercourse. How about this?”

He moved off of me onto his knees while he stretched me out on the long limo seat. My bra was still on but my dress was off my torso. He kissed my breast, trailing his tongue along my skin to the edge of my Spanx and back up to my breasts. He caressed me.

Surprised, I reacted, “No. I don't want that. Nope.” And I moved my hands to pull his hand out of my crotch. He removed it but pulled me on top of him on the floor of the limo as he continued to kiss my lips and breasts. That was fine. It was kind of fun and felt nice.

But then, he unzipped his pants and pulled down his boxers. “Blow me, Marie.”

“What? No. You've got to be kidding me. No, I don't want to Matthew.”

He pushed my head down and was holding my shoulders with his hands so that my cheek was in his crotch. I felt trapped. “No.”

I backed up away from him. He followed, rolling on top of me while he tried to pull off my Spanx. I struggled to keep them on.

“You either blow me or screw me. You can't turn me on like that for more than a year and not finish what you started. You're so hot. I have to have you.”

“No! Get off me!” I screamed in anger.

Sashi, my driver since middle school, stopped the limo abruptly, ran out of the driver's side, and threw open the door.

“She said, ‘
No
!' That means ‘
No
.' She's seventeen years old. Get off her.”

Matthew fumed, “You mind your own business, asshole.”

“Get out of my car. You're being recorded by our dispatcher. A driver will be here for you to take you were you need to go. Get out of my car now!” Sashi threatened.

“You're a tease, Marie,” Matthew complained in an angry whisper and left the limo. He and Sashi had a few words. Then Sashi returned to close the door.

“He didn't? You okay? I made it in time, Marie, right?”

Sashi's job was to protect me.

“I'm okay. He didn't… that was close… scary. Thanks for... I'm so embarrassed.” I blushed while I finished pulling up my dress.