seeing through.
When he left me for Avery, many people were thrilled to say “I told you so”. So many smug smiles; so many condescending pats on the shoulder, offering work that they knew was below me, just so they could pretend they were being supportive. Everyone loves watching the popular kids fall. They didn’t care about the full story, or that I was a human being, or that I had truly cared for Jack.
To them, I was just another in a long line of girls who’d fallen for Jack’s bad-boy charisma and wild promises. They didn’t see me as a real woman with a broken heart. They didn’t see how hard I worked to keep our relationship going and keep my career on track. Jack got to keep on going, because the world loved him no matter what. If anything, what he did to me made him more popular. Men wanted to be him because he could jump from actress to actress, always attached to the top A-lister of the minute, no matter how terribly he treated them. Women wanted to be with him because he was handsome, dangerous, and deep down, they believed they could change him. Their dreams were filled with fantasies of being the woman he would love so much that he couldn’t hurt her.
I know because those are exactly the dreams I used to have. From the moment I met him, a feeling of always chasing something I could never catch lived in my heart. Once he did what he did, I understood why.
The truth was that Jack Lister cared about one person—Jack Lister. If you weren’t helping him get richer and more famous, you might as well not exist. And if you were helping him, you shouldn’t fool yourself into thinking he actually valued you; he’d throw you out the window the minute you stopped being useful.
As the movie trailer ended with a shot of the new couple on top of a cliff, I wondered how long it would be before Avery discovered that awful reality for herself. I didn’t wish her harm; if anything, I felt horrible for her. I was living through her inevitable future, and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.
However, I couldn’t deny the jealous pang I felt at seeing her in the kind of role I had dreamed of, and felt I deserved. It was just one more reminder of what the industry thought of me, and how little control I had over it. The clock was ticking on my career, and I had to figure out what my next steps were going to be.
FOUR
The night suddenly felt darker around me. The crime drama I was watching was excellent, just as everyone promised, but I couldn’t concentrate on it after seeing Jack’s trailer. My mind wandered back to Katherine’s visit, bringing with it doubt about the decisions I had made. I had promised that I wouldn’t be picky, but here I was, another day gone by without a contract to sign or a future to plan for. The feeling that I should have accepted one of them started to scratch at the back of my mind.
A few were absolute no’s. I wasn’t going to insult myself by playing into Hollywood misogyny, so playing the mom of a man my age was out of the question, no matter how famous he was. The Lifetime movie was just a bad career move, my gut told me. There would be time for that descent later. If I jumped willingly into it now, I might never be able to climb back out. Katherine was hopeful for a rebound, but she couldn’t be sure of that any more than I could.
Then there was the offer from the Sheikh of Al-Dali: a single night for a million dollars. It seemed crazy; even now I was half-sure it was a joke someone was playing on me. I had heard rumors that offers like that really existed within super-rich communities, but I had never expected to be handed one—especially during what seemed to be the collapse of my career. There was something uncomfortable about it, yet I couldn’t deny my interest.
The money was calling me like a siren. It could help me through a lot right now and give me some breathing room to get back out into LA and mingle until I sweet-talked my way into some legitimate studio work. Once I got back in the saddle, I knew I could fix this.
But could I actually go through with it? What would I do when he finally tried to lead me to the bedroom—if he put up any kind of pretense at all? Pretending the Sheikh wouldn’t be interested in sex would be more naïve than believing in Jack Lister. He may not have spelled it out in the offer, but if I got on that private plane and headed to Al-Dali, there was almost no chance that I wasn’t going to end up in his bedroom. Either that, or I’d have to reject him and face who knew what kind of legal troubles from being in breach of contract.
If I said yes, things could end up worse for me than they already were. My reputation and credibility would be ruined forever if even a whisper of the arrangement reached the ears of the media.
Part of me was afraid of that reality, but part of me remembered how much more risk I had taken before, when I had moved out to LA by myself to try and make it on the big screen. Everyone thought I was crazy. My parents, bless their hearts, could hardly keep themselves together the day I left, and surviving as a nobody in a soulless city was harder and scarier than I had expected. But I kept my head high, worked hard, and used my passion to keep me going through years of disappointing and occasionally humiliating auditions. One day, it finally paid off, and things had been easier until Jack left me.
I was here now, safe in my Hollywood mansion, because of taking opportunities, even if they seemed stupid or dangerous. The only way I was going to move forward was by taking risks.
All the offers Katherine had brought me were a gamble. So which one was I going to bet my future on? Which one would give me the most satisfaction, even if it didn’t work out?
I’d never been to Al-Dali; I was surprised that a country so far away would even be aware of my existence. Some American movies did very well overseas, but I had never thought about that scene. I just assumed they had their own movie industry that satisfied their audiences, except when the occasional giant fighting robots blockbuster came rolling in from overseas. There was something intriguing about the idea of a mini-vacation in a new, exotic place where I apparently had some unexpected popularity. Plus, as rich as this guy sounded, it would probably include luxurious accommodations, and maybe even some gifts. The thought of a little pampering was pretty tempting.
Plus, I was a confident, seasoned movie star. I wasn’t going to do anything I didn’t want to do, and the Shiekh would quickly realize that. Breaching a contract might make things harder, but I’d never been one to sacrifice my integrity for my work, and I wasn’t about to start. I’d rather take the heat for denying him than live with the decision of saying yes.
Before I knew it, I was fumbling with my phone, a little wine-drunk and blurry-eyed without my contacts in. I pulled up the number for Katherine, and waited patiently while it rang. It was late, but Katherine and most other agents were twenty-four-seven kind of people. They had to be in order to excel in the business.
After three rings, she picked up, her voice a little groggy. “Hey Julianne, what is it? Everything okay?”
“Did I wake you up?”
“What’s up?” The rustling of fabric in the background was answer enough. “I’m getting dressed, I can be over in twenty minutes.”
“No, no,” I interrupted. “No need, it’s not that bad. Everything’s fine. I just made a decision and wanted to get it over with.”
“What’s that?”
I took a deep breath. “I want you to call the Sheikh, the one from Al-Dali. Tell him I’ll accept his offer.”
There was dead silence on the other end of the phone.
“You…you what?”
I had to laugh a little. “Call that Sheikh, the offer you brought today. I’m going to do it. I’ll take his money for one day of ‘company.’”
“O-Okay,” stuttered Katherine. I heard paper and the scribbling of a pen. “I’ll call him right now. You’re sure about this?” Her voice was motherly and just a little wary.
“No, not even a little,” I admitted, putting my head in my hands. “But everything I’ve done to get to where I am has been a risk. I’ve lived on next to nothing and nearly been homeless trying to get noticed out here. I’ve never been sure about anything except following my gut, and so far, things have wor
ked out. So let’s do it. And if he tries to put that card into play, well… I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it. I’ve gotten myself out of creepy situations before.”
“Okay, if you’re sure, honey, then you got it,” said Katherine. “I’ll call you as soon as I hear back from him.”
“Thanks, you’re the best.”
***
It was less than an hour after I hung up with Katherine when my phone started vibrating against the glass coffee table. She had called the Sheikh and spoken with him directly about accepting the offer. She said he was delighted that I’d accepted, and would be sending a car the following morning to pick me up.
“So soon?” I asked Katherine, surprised.
“Apparently,” replied Katherine. “This guy has money to burn, I’m sure rushing this kind of thing is no big deal to him. Can you be ready in time?”
“Of course, look who you’re talking to; I’ve gotten ready for the Oscars in less than three hours.”
“Well get on it, girl. He’s coming for you. You let me know if you need anything, okay? If something goes wrong, or if you want to come back, just call me.”
“Katherine, I’m not a child,” I groaned. “I’ll be fine. He’s not going to kidnap me.”
“I just worry about you, sugar plum; you know you’re my favorite.”
“Yeah, I bet you say that to all the girls,” I joked. “Thanks, I’ll call you when I’m on my way.”
I hung up with my agent and stared out at the LA lights glimmering under the fog in the distance. I wondered how the lights of Al-Dali would compare.
FIVE
After snatching a couple of hours of fitful sleep, I woke before my alarm and looked to my walk-in wardrobe. Since the job was a straight twenty-four hours, I figured I had better pack for several eventualities. I pulled out a mid-sized suitcase and rolled up my pajamas, several outfits, a jacket, and an array of shoes and accessories. In a garment bag, I tucked two evening dresses—one more modest than the other, as I had no idea what to expect when it came to customs in Al-Dali. Finally, I packed up my makeup and hair supplies, along with a novel I had been trying to finish for three months. One of the crew from my last film had recommended it, but my concentration had been lacking lately with all the stress. Maybe I’d get time to finish it on the trip.
Since I knew Al-Dali was a desert country, I opted for an outfit of light, flowing red cloth draped over a romper of the same color, with broad straps and shorts that extended down to my knees. The sheer drapery added modesty without adding weight or heat; paired with nude heels, the outfit would be perfect for summer. I leaned into the old-school Hollywood look by painting my lips red and digging out one of my wide-brim wicker hats to protect me from the sun.
Zipping up my suitcases, I was surprised by the buzzer to my front gates ringing. I hurried through the house, my bare feet cold on the hardwood floors, to answer the call. The video display on the security system showed a limo driver waiting patiently in his idling vehicle.
Man, that was fast, I thought as I pressed the speaker button and let him into the grounds, promising I was nearly finished packing. He politely told me to take my time.
After throwing my luggage by the door and pulling on my shoes, I made a quick round to check doors and windows, water my plants, and ensure I hadn't left anything undone. It was only a twenty-four-hour trip, but when the trip was taking me halfway around the world, anything could go wrong and keep me away for longer. More than once, I had come home from a production that ran too long to a house full of dead plants, their poor brown leaves littering the floor. It wasn't the best welcome home.
The limo driver moved to take my bags as soon as he saw the front door opening. He greeted me with a bow and introduced himself as Terry, handing me a card. I recognized the company he worked for, a local rental service that the Sheikh must have called to hire. He was professional and polite, but had that glow in his eyes that betrayed he was a fan that wanted desperately to gush about it all over me. Hollywood protocol tended to frown on that kind of behavior when it came from staff that had access to celebrity homes and lives, but there was no hiding the emotions.
About halfway through the drive to the airport, Terry’s professional composure finally broke. “I loved you in Undertow,” he said without turning his head to face the back.
I smiled and nodded, fiddling with my sunhat in my lap. “I liked that one, too. Thank you, Terry.”
“I haven't seen you in much lately.”
Thanks for the reminder, I thought to myself. “I've been taking a little hiatus,” I replied confidently. “Needed a vacation from the rat race.”
“I can understand that,” replied Terry as he took a right off the freeway. The airport was in the opposite direction.
“Where are we going?” I asked curiously, looking out the window.
“Reynolds Airfield,” Terry said matter-of-factly.
I frowned, only vaguely aware of its existence. “Oh? Not LAX?”
“My instructions were to take you to Reynolds,” shrugged Terry. “It's my understanding a private jet will be waiting for you. This is a bit of an exclusive airfield.”
I had friends with private jets, but none of them had ever used this airfield. I was suddenly more intrigued, and sat back to enjoy the unfamiliar drive until we arrived at the tiny airfield with a hangar only