Shopaholic to the Stars
Page 116
“Ben?”
“Ben Affleck.”
“Ben Affleck?” Luke puts his spoon down. “Why on earth would we hang out with Ben Affleck?”
“We might!” I say defensively. “Why shouldn’t we? We live in L.A. now, we’re in the movies … you’re bound to meet Ben Affleck at a party or something.…”
“I doubt it,” says Luke drily.
“Well, I will, then! Maybe Sage will introduce us. Or maybe I’ll style him or one of his friends.”
And I’ll become best friends with Jennifer Garner, I think secretly. I’ve always thought I would hit it off with her.
“Becky, this conversation makes no sense.” Luke is shaking his head, and I look at him impatiently. He’s so slow sometimes.
“Don’t you realize everything’s changed? I’m in the public eye now. I’m in a whole new zone.”
“You’re hardly an A-lister,” he snorts, and I feel a dart of indignation.
“Well, I will be! I have paparazzi outside the house.… Sage Seymour calls me all the time.…”
“The paparazzi have gone,” says Luke, unmoved. “And Sage calls me all the time too. That doesn’t make me an A-lister.”
“Aran believes in me,” I say pointedly. “He says I’m going to be huge. He says I could have my own network show by next year.”
Luke sighs. “Darling, I don’t want to rain on your parade—but don’t believe every word Aran says. He’s a great guy, but he just says whatever the conversation of the moment seems to require. Maybe he believes it, maybe he doesn’t. It’s the Hollywood way.” He sips his wine. “And another thing: We need to get rid of those goons. We can’t live with them lurking around the place all day.”
“Mitchell and Jeff?” I put down my spoon in dismay. “I couldn’t live without Mitchell and Jeff.”
Luke peers at me incredulously for a moment, then throws back his head in laughter. “Darling, you’ve only had bodyguards for a day. You can’t be dependent on them already. And if you are, I’m afraid you need a reality check.” He gets up from the table. “I’m making myself a sandwich. Sorry.” He starts slathering mayonnaise onto bread, and I watch in secret envy. “Since you’re talking to your best friend Sage nonstop,” he adds, “you can tell me something. I’m convinced she’s up to some lunatic plan or other. What has she said to you?”
I feel a tweak of alarm. I wasn’t expecting him to ask me straight out.
“What do you mean?” I say, playing for time.
“She’s hiding something.” He sits down with his monster sandwich and takes a bite. “Truthfully, Becky, I’m nearly at the end of the line with Sage. I thought we could work together, but …” He wipes a blob of mayonnaise off his chin and takes another huge bite.
“But what?”
“If she can’t play straight with me, then it’s not going to work.”
“You mean …” I feel a sudden foreboding. “Luke, what do you mean?”
“I don’t know yet.” He opens a bag of crisps, which he must have bought himself. I certainly didn’t buy them. “Here’s the thing, Becky. A lot of issues are up in the air.”
“What kind of issues?”
“I spoke with the London office today, and there’s some intriguing stuff going on back there. We’ve just had a call from the Treasury. I’m going to have to fly back to take a meeting. And if we progress with that association, then I’ll need to be on board.”
“In London?” I can’t hide my dismay.
“Well, it makes sense. This L.A. jaunt was always temporary. It’s been fun and interesting, but, frankly, I’d take ten bolshie Treasury officials over one obstreperous movie star any day.” Luke laughs, but I don’t join in. I’m feeling a rising rage. He’s talking about moving back to London? Without even consulting me?
“We can’t move back to London!” I blurt out. “What about me? What about my new career?”
Luke looks taken aback. “Well, you can be a stylist in London, surely? It’s the home of style.”
“I can’t be a Hollywood stylist in London.”
“Darling, there’s a film industry in Britain. I’m sure you can get some contacts together, talk to the right people …”
How can he be so dense?
“But it isn’t Hollywood!” I cry out. “I want to live in Hollywood and be famous!”
“Ben Affleck.”
“Ben Affleck?” Luke puts his spoon down. “Why on earth would we hang out with Ben Affleck?”
“We might!” I say defensively. “Why shouldn’t we? We live in L.A. now, we’re in the movies … you’re bound to meet Ben Affleck at a party or something.…”
“I doubt it,” says Luke drily.
“Well, I will, then! Maybe Sage will introduce us. Or maybe I’ll style him or one of his friends.”
And I’ll become best friends with Jennifer Garner, I think secretly. I’ve always thought I would hit it off with her.
“Becky, this conversation makes no sense.” Luke is shaking his head, and I look at him impatiently. He’s so slow sometimes.
“Don’t you realize everything’s changed? I’m in the public eye now. I’m in a whole new zone.”
“You’re hardly an A-lister,” he snorts, and I feel a dart of indignation.
“Well, I will be! I have paparazzi outside the house.… Sage Seymour calls me all the time.…”
“The paparazzi have gone,” says Luke, unmoved. “And Sage calls me all the time too. That doesn’t make me an A-lister.”
“Aran believes in me,” I say pointedly. “He says I’m going to be huge. He says I could have my own network show by next year.”
Luke sighs. “Darling, I don’t want to rain on your parade—but don’t believe every word Aran says. He’s a great guy, but he just says whatever the conversation of the moment seems to require. Maybe he believes it, maybe he doesn’t. It’s the Hollywood way.” He sips his wine. “And another thing: We need to get rid of those goons. We can’t live with them lurking around the place all day.”
“Mitchell and Jeff?” I put down my spoon in dismay. “I couldn’t live without Mitchell and Jeff.”
Luke peers at me incredulously for a moment, then throws back his head in laughter. “Darling, you’ve only had bodyguards for a day. You can’t be dependent on them already. And if you are, I’m afraid you need a reality check.” He gets up from the table. “I’m making myself a sandwich. Sorry.” He starts slathering mayonnaise onto bread, and I watch in secret envy. “Since you’re talking to your best friend Sage nonstop,” he adds, “you can tell me something. I’m convinced she’s up to some lunatic plan or other. What has she said to you?”
I feel a tweak of alarm. I wasn’t expecting him to ask me straight out.
“What do you mean?” I say, playing for time.
“She’s hiding something.” He sits down with his monster sandwich and takes a bite. “Truthfully, Becky, I’m nearly at the end of the line with Sage. I thought we could work together, but …” He wipes a blob of mayonnaise off his chin and takes another huge bite.
“But what?”
“If she can’t play straight with me, then it’s not going to work.”
“You mean …” I feel a sudden foreboding. “Luke, what do you mean?”
“I don’t know yet.” He opens a bag of crisps, which he must have bought himself. I certainly didn’t buy them. “Here’s the thing, Becky. A lot of issues are up in the air.”
“What kind of issues?”
“I spoke with the London office today, and there’s some intriguing stuff going on back there. We’ve just had a call from the Treasury. I’m going to have to fly back to take a meeting. And if we progress with that association, then I’ll need to be on board.”
“In London?” I can’t hide my dismay.
“Well, it makes sense. This L.A. jaunt was always temporary. It’s been fun and interesting, but, frankly, I’d take ten bolshie Treasury officials over one obstreperous movie star any day.” Luke laughs, but I don’t join in. I’m feeling a rising rage. He’s talking about moving back to London? Without even consulting me?
“We can’t move back to London!” I blurt out. “What about me? What about my new career?”
Luke looks taken aback. “Well, you can be a stylist in London, surely? It’s the home of style.”
“I can’t be a Hollywood stylist in London.”
“Darling, there’s a film industry in Britain. I’m sure you can get some contacts together, talk to the right people …”
How can he be so dense?
“But it isn’t Hollywood!” I cry out. “I want to live in Hollywood and be famous!”
