Unlucky Break (15 page)

‘You lured me with the promise of food, so what’s cookin’, good lookin’?’

Andie blushed again and turned to the fridge. ‘Well, there’s eggs. I could do French toast? Or I could make raspberry muffins?’

‘Ooh, French toast. My favourite!’ James smiled at her.

Andie whisked eggs in a bowl, dropping in thick slices of bread. She turned on the heat and placed a frypan on it as she waited for the bread to soak up the egg.

‘You’re very capable,’ James said from behind her. She turned to see if he was teasing her.

‘Am I?’ she asked, turning back around.

‘Very,’ he said.

‘I had to be,’ she said. ‘My mum liked me to be independent anyway, but then when she got sick, I just took over.’

James nodded and a mutual understanding travelled between them.

Andie fried the eggy bread and soon had the golden slabs on a plate. She piled the raspberries from the fridge on top and sprinkled it with icing sugar. She filled a jug with maple syrup and put it beside the plate in front of James.

‘Wow,’ said James.

Andie felt a little embarrassed. ‘It’s just French toast.’

James looked at her and smiled. ‘Just French toast? No way, it’s the best, Andie. Thanks.’

He ate hungrily and Andie was ashamed to admit she felt happiness at him eating with such gusto. Half of her wanted to slam her head into the fridge for being such a letdown to feminism, and the other half was ready to don a lace apron and keep him in French toast forever.

‘So, did you need me to do anything in particular today?’ she asked, casually checking the time on her phone again.

‘Actually, you kinda got me thinking,’ said James. He had some icing sugar stuck to one corner of his lip. She stopped herself from reaching out and brushing it away with her thumb.

He continued hesitantly. ‘I was wondering if you could maybe help me with my room? You know, sort some shit out. ‘Cause, you know, it’s just not safe,’ he put on a ridiculous Australian accent, imitating her tone from earlier.

Andie laughed. She looked at him, his face embarrassed and hopeful. She couldn’t refuse him anything looking like that.

‘No problem,’ she said, nodding. She figured she could see the stylist anytime. This was important.

They made their way to James’s room and stood among the mess. Andie could see that the room was actually lovely underneath the chaos, with three floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the valley. The wooden floors showed off the mid-century furniture and a modern glass chandelier hung from the ceiling.

As she thought about the best way to tackle the mess, her phone rang. It was Jess. She declined the call and shot her a text message to cancel the stylist’s appointment. Then she turned the phone off. She felt slightly guilty – she knew Jess would want to know why, but she couldn’t explain with James there.

‘So where do we start?’ asked James. ‘I’m excited. Can’t quite believe I just said that. It must be from being housebound. Or maybe I’m just a dork.’

Andie laughed. ‘You’re a dork for sure. Okay, let’s make three piles. Throw out. Put away. Store.’

The last time she had done this was after her mum had died.

In the end, all Andie had sent over to LA were photo albums, some of her mum’s jewellery, and her journals. They were all still packed in the box they’d arrived in. That was all that was left of her life in Melbourne.

‘You okay?’ James’s voice broke into her thoughts.

‘Sorry, I was lost for a moment,’ she said, shaking her head.

‘I could see that.’ He looked concerned. ‘You sure you want to do this?’

‘Yep, I’m fine,’ she said, a little too brightly. ‘Just thinking. Now, this pile of scripts?’ she asked.

‘I’m supposed to read them but I haven’t had time.’

Andie put them in a pile. ‘This is the perfect time to read them then, while you’re recovering,’ she said. ‘What about these books? God, you have a lot of books,’ she said, looking around at the piles covering the floor.

‘Most of them were my mom’s. Some are mine,’ he said.

‘Your mum was quite a reader, huh?’ asked Andie.

James nodded. ‘She was a professor of literature at a college over on the East Coast.’

‘Ah, well that explains all these books then,’ said Andie.

‘So you don’t think I’d have so many books if it wasn’t for her? You think I’m not well read because I’m an actor?’

‘No,’ said Andie, but then, blushing a little, she realised. ‘Maybe.’

‘Hey, I’ve read half of these books and I’m working on the other half. Aiming to get them done before twenty-five.’

‘That’s awesome,’ said Andie. ‘Really. I’m sorry.’ She picked up a pile of books from the floor. The pile wobbled slightly and a book slid out and fell down at her feet. She looked down and saw it was
The Great Gatsby
.

James picked it up and turned it over. ‘You read this?’ he asked.

Andie nodded.

‘It’s a classic. I tried to get Nikki to read it but she wasn’t into it.’

Andie moved to the bookshelf and started to stack the books on the shelves.

‘I met someone recently who loved it. She blew me away,’

Andie stood with her back to him. ‘Oh yeah? How so?’ she asked casually.

‘I met this girl at a bar, man, she was a dime piece.’

‘A what?’ Andie turned, tucking her hair behind her ears, suddenly conscious that it needed a wash.

‘A perfect ten. You know, hot, sexy and smart,’ he said.

Andie opened her eyes wide. So, he thought she was just a piece of meat, the girl in the bar. What a letdown.

‘Anyway, we started to talk, I don’t know how we got to it but she was a writer. She had an accent, a bit like yours actually, but more British maybe.’

Andie held her breath as he spoke.

James lay back on the bed. ‘Anyway, it was intense. Like, beyond sex. I asked her to come home with me, but I wasn’t even thinking about that. I just wanted her to lie on my bed while I read her this book.’

Andie wanted to punch herself in the face. Was there a word for what she was? Yes. Idiot. She was an idiot.

Read it to me now,
she wanted to scream at him. Goddammit.

‘I figured if a girl loved this book as much as me she had to be close to perfect. But then Nikki screwed it all up.’

‘How?’ asked Andie. She walked to an armchair and sat down, still holding some of the books tightly, to stop her hands from shaking.

James rubbed his head. ‘I suppose since you’re helping me out I should probably explain about Nikki.’

‘Please do,’ said Andie, ‘She keeps ringing the cell phone you gave me and then hanging up.’

‘Nikki’s an addict,’ he said. ‘She’s addicted to alcohol, cocaine and love. Unfortunately she has easy access to the first two and no access to the last one.’

‘What do you mean?’ asked Andie.

‘I mean, she tends to end up with assholes who use her for money and fame and drugs and then dump her. When she has a bad bender she ends up coming after me. I think I remind her of when things were better in her life, before the films we did got huge. Before the pressure.’

Andie nodded. ‘So this girl from the bar,’ she said it as though she had a bad taste in her mouth, ‘What did Nikki do to ruin it?’

‘Nikki pushed her into the pool.’

Andie wondered if he’d tell her the real story or the one the tabloids had reported. She feigned remembering. ‘That’s right. I think I read about it on a website. They said she was a crazed fan and Nikki saved your life.’

James shook his head. ‘Nope, that’s what was reported, but the truth is, Nikki was the crazy one.’

Andie stood up. ‘So, this girl you claim to have liked so much, you let them make her out to be a lunatic fan?’ She could hear the disapproval in her voice, but she couldn’t control herself. ‘I’m sorry, but I can’t understand that. That’s … insulting.’ She turned and starting putting the books onto the shelf, slamming them into place angrily.

James paused. ‘But Nikki needed me that night,’ he said, almost pleading with Andie. ‘And the girl – she’ll be okay,’ he finished.

‘How do you know?’ asked Andie, turning to him.

‘’Cause she was smart, sexy, well read and funny,’ he said. ‘She won’t be hanging around for me, not with the way Nikki behaved. She’s probably hanging out with someone way better than me by now.’

Andie was so torn but didn’t know what she could say that would make her seem any less crazy than Nikki. She looked down at herself, in her worn black jeans, checked shirt done up to the neck, Doc Martens, greasy hair hanging limply. No wonder he didn’t see the girl from the Skyhigh Bar when he looked at her. But she wasn’t that girl either. That girl was the invention of Jess.

The girl he liked didn’t exist; the girl who loved him was mad; and the girl who was looking after him was invisible.

It’s a stupid chick-flick script in the making,
she thought,
except people would say this would only happen in the movies.
Unfortunately, now Andie knew better.

12

‘Why didn’t you take my calls?’ cried Jess down the phone.

‘I was doing my job,’ said Andie. ‘I can’t just leave, you know.’

‘I needed you,’ said Jess. Andie could visualise her pout.

‘I’m sorry,’ said Andie, as she pulled one of the mailbags of fan letters from James’s room into the study.

‘I need to see you,’ said Jess. ‘Can you come over?’

‘Now?’ asked Andie, sitting down at the desk.

‘Yes, now.’

‘Now’s not really great. Can it wait?’ Andie put her head into the enormous bag of letters. She pulled out a handful. Heart-themed stationery seemed to be very popular with James’s fan base.

‘Oh my god. I thought you were my best friend,’ cried Jess.

Andie put the letters down. ‘Jess, listen, I like you and everything but I have known you, what? A week? It’s a bit hard to be besties after a week.’

‘Bullshit, I knew as soon as I saw you that you were my BFF.’

Andie tried not to laugh. ‘Why was that?’ she asked kindly.

‘Because you had no idea who I was and you still wanted to hang. You don’t need me for anything but friendship and don’t want to see me fail. At least I don’t think you do. That’s hard to find in this town.’

Andie thought about Nikki and how easily Jess could have taken that path. She stood up. ‘Okay, I’ll come over now,’ she said.

‘Yay! Thanks babe, you’re the best bestie ever.’

Andie didn’t say that she never wanted a best friend again, after Marissa. She was like James, she trusted no-one anymore.

Andie hung up and walked onto the deck to find James reading a script in the afternoon sun. They had done their clean-up – or actually, Andie had done it while James pointed and argued, trying to keep things. She managed to convince him on most of them, but he stubbornly refused to let a few things go. She compromised, putting them in boxes to store in the garage.

‘I just have to whizz over and see a mate. Back in a jiffy,’ she said.

James looked up. ‘Huh? What now?’ he asked, frowning.

Andie rolled her eyes at him. ‘I have to go and see a friend quickly. I won’t be too long,’ she translated sweetly.

‘Your people speak in odd ways,’ he said in a pompous tone.

‘Says you, Mr Dime Piece,’ said Andie, tossing her greasy hair at him and walking inside the house.

‘She
was
a dime piece,’ called James after her. ‘The girl of my dreams.’

Andie drove to Jess’s house. As soon as she parked in the driveway, Jess was outside, practically dragging her from the car.

‘Thank God. I need your smarts,’ said Jess, pulling her inside and taking her to the white room. She plonked Andie down on the sofa and took up her usual position on the egg-shaped chair.

‘What?’ asked Andie.

‘It’s the movie, the war one,’ said Jess.

‘Okay,’ said Andie, leaning forward.

‘So I met with the director, he was nice. Kind of London-cool you know? Anyway he told me that I was the one for the part, like my manager said.’

‘And that’s great,’ said Andie, smiling.

‘Yes. Except …’ she paused. ‘He said I have to have my boobs taken down.’

‘What?’ asked Andie.

‘I. Know.’ Jess said, appalled. ‘He said I can have the role, as long as I “reduce my breast size”.’ Jess said the last part of the sentence in a very good English accent. Andie laughed.

‘It’s not funny.’

‘No it’s not, but you are,’ said Andie. ‘That accent was great.’

‘That accent was great,’ said Jess, imitating her Australian tone.

‘Okay, that was spookily good,’ said Andie, nodding. ‘Do Russian.’

Jess repeated what Andie said rapidly in Russian, German and French accents. Andie clapped her hands. ‘You’re so talented, it’s incredible. Why aren’t you working all the time?’

Jess started to cry. Andie went over and hugged her. She sat back to let Jess speak.

‘My agent doesn’t return my calls. Even my manager was surprised I got this role. I’m a joke. And now I have to lose my boobs or lose the role.’

Andie frowned. ‘How much do you want this role?’

‘SO much.’

‘Then you need to do it.’

‘But surgery for a role?’ Jess asked. ‘It seems so drastic.’