The Redhead Plays Her Hand
Page 17
Interesting. What was he up to? With a smile, I got out of the car and let myself in the front door, just catching sight of him heading back into the kitchen. Kicking off my heels and setting down my bag, I glanced into the dining room. The table was set, candles were lit, flowers were arranged. Rounding the corner, I spied him in front of the stove, every burner going, every pot and pan in California either full of something or burned in the sink. Pasta crunched underfoot, alerting him to my presence. As he spun around, I laughed out loud when I saw the state of his shirt, which was covered in sauce.
“What are you doing?” I laughed as he slammed the lid back down on something that spittered and sputtered on the burner.
“Dammit, I wanted to have everything done when you got home.” He grabbed a spoon and flicked tomato something or other all over the backsplash. Which is what a backsplash is for, I suppose . . .
“What’s all this, George?” I asked, coming to rest on a high stool out of the line of fire.
“I just wanted to make you dinner, something nice. Turns out cooking is really bloody hard!” He struggled with a colander. The colander was winning. “I’d kiss you but I’m dirty.”
“I like you dirty. I’ll risk it.”
He smiled, but kept his eyes on the colander and the pasta that was now escaping. “I felt terrible about today. I just wanted, I wanted to do something that could— Oh, damn this linguine,” he mumbled.
“Can I help you? Please?” I slipped down off the stool and walked to him. Quietly I finished draining the pasta, leaving it in the colander.
He stood next to me, leaning over the sink, face troubled. “I just hate that this happened, that they would use me to go after you in this way.” He sighed.
“I know,” I answered, leaning into his side. He smelled like garlic. He smelled wonderful.
“I wish I could tell you this kind of thing won’t happen again, but it will, Grace.”
“I know.”
“It’s gonna get worse.”
“I know.” I sighed into his shoulder. “But the good outweighs the bad.”
“Does it?”
“Of course it does. Now feed me this wonderful dinner.”
I went back to my perch as he finished. I could have helped more, but I wanted to let him do this for me. Over dinner we talked about some of the better parts of the day, and we went about the business of getting past this. Past the bullshit. Past the part where someone, several someones actually, went out of their way to try to hurt both of us. We both sighed into our linguine several times.
thirteen
I loved spending quality time with my new trainer, Megan.
“As far as I can tell, you were doing great, Grace, and then you crashed your system with that stupid diet. You worked out too much, you weren’t eating enough, and your body responded by holding on to everything once you started eating again. It’ll take some time, but we can get a little of this off, although you’re pretty much where your body wants you to be.”
“My body wants me to be high in the sky, twisted like a pretzel?”
“In the meantime, we work on your inner strength.” She laughed, ignoring my feeble joke, as she downward dogged me on the balcony. Megan was an actual exercise physiologist, with a degree and zero interest in being an actor. She had her own workout facility high above the city in the Wilshire corridor. She was organic, honest, and a breath of fresh air. Literally, up this high, you could smell the ocean above the smog. I looked forward to these workouts.
“I just want to get back to where I was, that’s all.” I sighed through my legs as she had me switch poses.
“I’d like you to be even better than you were before.” She winked. “What does your boyfriend think about everything?”
“Please. He thinks the more for him to love, the better.” I snorted, her hands on my h*ps as she coaxed me into another shape. And it was true. Jack loved me for who I was, h*ps and all. Just wish the press did. After Holly put out a statement ridiculing the website that posted the pictures of Jack and his costar, the press pounced on me. And again, every time they showed Jack with this younger actress, they did a side by side of me. Always at a weird angle; always with me looking bigger than I was. For God’s sake, I was a size 8! But that was a tank in Hollywood, apparently, and no one was going to let me forget it.
But in the other camp, a smaller but quite vocal group of women online were expressing their support. More than one blogger had written about the fuss being made about my weight, increasing the dialogue about women on film and TV and the thin-thin-thin image we were all supposed to mold ourselves into. Not gonna lie, those bloggers made it easier for me to grin and bear this idiocy.
Speaking of grinning and bearing it . . .
“Okay, uncle! Uncle, I give!” I collapsed to the mat and breathed heavily after the last set of crunches were finished. Megan laughed and threw me a bottle of water, which I took gratefully. Drinking it down, I stared out at Los Angeles. From this high up, the palm trees swayed in the breeze, the glitter from a hundred Bentleys making the street below sparkle. What a town. Absently I rubbed my necklace from Jack.
His public.
His public continued to rage about me, online at least. The pictures of him and his new costar had brought another round of sniping from his biggest online fan clubs. He was never really dating me—I was a cougar who was fame hungry—it was exhausting. What was I to do? Did I admit that I hated what the press was saying about me? Did I comment? Did I shy away? Did I cower in the corner, or did I come out swinging, teeth bared and claws out like a cougar?
And in addition to all this bullshit going on about the size of my ass and whether I was sleeping with Sexy Scientist Guy, I had the biggest thing ever in my professional career going on. Which, by the way, was being overshadowed by this inane chatter. Would be nice if that could be the focus.
Glad to see we are getting back on track here . . .
My new show was set to premiere next week, and there were more interviews to go to, radio shows to call in to, hoops to jump through, and talk show hosts to charm. And I was supposed to be focusing on potted plants and their place in my natural world?
Pick your path. You don’t get to decide how the public reacts. You only get to decide how you react.
True, very true.
Victim? Warrior? Pick. Your. Path.
As I was contemplating, I saw a woman walk nervously into the gym, peering through the window. Pretty. Plump. Her eyes darting everywhere, she tensed when she saw me watching her. Her hands tugged at her T-shirt, pulling it down a bit, trying to cover up probably without even knowing it. I smiled at her, and she seemed to relax, but only a bit. Megan spied her through the window and waved her out.
“Hey, Chelsea, I’ve gotta take a quick call,” Megan told her. “Go ahead and start stretching out for a few, and then we’ll get started, okay?” She grabbed her phone and ducked back inside. Chelsea looked at me, then did a double take.
“Um, are you Grace Sheridan?”
“Have we met before?” I asked, walking over after picking up my bag.
She smiled shyly at me, again picking at her shirt and tugging it down a bit. “Well, um, I’m a big fan of Jack Hamilton.” She blushed furiously. “And, well, you know, you’re kind of all over the Internet lately.” She blushed even more.
“Ah, well, yes. That’s true.” I chuckled. “And you’re correct. I’m Grace.” I extended my hand to her.
She shook it with a grin. “I’m Chelsea. Oh my God, I can’t believe it! I’ve been seeing commercials for your new show. I can’t wait!”
“Really? Wow, that’s great. You’ll have to let me know what you think after next week.”
“I gotta tell you, at first I only knew who you were because of, well, your pictures with Jack. And you know, at first, of course, I was jealous because, well, my God, he’s gorgeous!”
She giggled, becoming more animated as she talked. I laughed with her, nodding my head. He was gorgeous.
“But then, when the press started picking on you? Dammit, that pissed me off! And I thought, well, shit, if anyone is gonna be with that beautiful man, I like the idea that it’s someone like you. Does that make sense? Sorry, I know I’m babbling, but I have to know, are you two dating? Please tell me yes,” she finally ended, breathing heavily. Her eyes were dancing, her cheeks still pink.
I took a breath on my own. “If I say yes, are you going straight to TMZ?” I winked.
“Fuck no!” she exclaimed, then slapped her hand over her mouth. “I mean . . . actually, I do mean f**k no!”
“Then f**k yes, we’re dating,” I answered, and she squealed.
I threw my head back and laughed, louder than I had in a while. As we laughed, Megan came sauntering back outside, looking like a very pretty drill sergeant.
“Grace? You still here? Usually my clients can’t wait to get out of here when I’m done with them. Chelsea, get your ass over on that mat and strike a mean warrior pose!”
Warrior?
Fuck yes. I spun toward Megan.
“Megan, what if I told you I never wanted to weigh myself again. How would you feel about that?”
“Awesome.”
“And if I said I didn’t care what I weighed, as long as I was strong?”
“Awesome.”
“Fantastic. Thanks, Megan. Nice to meet you!” I called over to Chelsea, who was indeed striking a mean-ass warrior pose.
“You too, Grace! And tell Jack I said hi!” She giggled, her warrior becoming a little unbalanced as Megan pushed me to the door.
“Go away now, Grace. Can’t have you distracting my clients.” She shook her head.
“I’m going, I’m going. But seriously, I’m not weighing myself anymore,” I told her.
“Good girl.” She winked.
I left feeling lighter than I had in weeks.
fourteen
Grace Sheridan was the toast of late-night this week, with appearances on Jay Leno, David Letterman, and Jimmy Fallon. While all three hosts tried to get her to comment on the status of her relationship with alleged boyfriend Jack Hamilton, Grace deftly kept the conversation focused on her career and her new show, Mable Unstable?, set to premiere in just two days. But the other hot topic that has dogged her lately, her weight, was not off-limits at all. In fact, Grace spoke candidly to Jimmy Fallon when he asked about her weight and what being asked to lose weight for this role had done to her:
“Well, Jimmy. Can I call you Jimmy?”
“It is my name.”
“Can I just tell you—before we talk about my giant ass—how big of a crush I have on you? Seriously, big crush, Jimmy.”
“Well. Now I’m blushing.”
“Then this would be a good time to talk about my giant ass, right? Since you’re already blushing?”
“It seems like a good time. But really, how in the world did this story get started? And I gotta tell you, for all the fellas in the audience, I’m just gonna say, it’s not giant, but you do have one sweet ass.”
(Audience applauding)
“Thanks, boys! I guess it started when I was cast in Mable Unstable? I’m new to this industry. Let’s not pretend, okay? And I know it’s just part of it, losing weight or gaining weight for a role. Makes sense, right? But then my body figured out it was exactly where it was supposed to be! And I realized I was not willing to risk my health, especially when in the real world outside of Hollywood, no one would ever call me fat! So this is me, curves and all.”
“Thank God for curves. That’s all I can say.”
“Aw, thanks, Jimmy.”
“And now I’m blushing again . . .”
Grace told similar stories on Late Show and The Tonight Show, responding to her critics with an honest assessment of her body and choice words about what Hollywood expects from women. Looks like Grace Sheridan isn’t playing . . .
Grace Sheridan continues to dominate the headlines this week as she’s crossed the country twice to promote her new show premiering tomorrow on Venue. Appearing with the ladies on The View, she took on her critics once more, answering questions about the pictures that have surfaced of her prior to her return to acting, when she was substantially heavier.
“That was me. Would I have preferred that those pictures of me when I was not in a great place in my life never surfaced? Of course. But I have to own that part of my life too. I was out of control, unhappy, and feeling buried by a situation that was my own creation. I struggled with my weight the way so many women in this country do, and I still struggle with it. But for me, being healthy was a choice I made for myself, to be strong and to be aware of the decisions I made on a daily basis, so I could be the kind of person I wanted to be.”
When asked about whether she is dating Jack Hamilton, Sheridan once again dodged the question, stating only, “He’s pretty cute, isn’t he?”
TMZ
A private screening for Mabel’s Unstable? was arranged tonight at Sam’s, a restaurant in Hollywood, with the entire cast in attendance, including Grace Sheridan and Jack Hamilton. For a couple who isn’t dating, they sure show up at the same place an awful lot, don’t they? They arrived separately. Grace showed up with her manager, Holly Newman, and the creator of the new show, Michael O’Connell. Jack arrived much later with bad boy Adam Kasen in tow. Adam stopped outside to sign autographs for a few minutes, rolling his eyes when asked about whether he was causing friction between Jack and Grace. “Are they dating?” he asked the crowd, then smirked and disappeared inside.
I settled back in my chair, tummy fluttering in anticipation. All night I had moved from table to table, cluster to cluster of people, chatting, talking—I suppose you could even say schmoozing. The cast and crew, their families and friends and plus ones, everyone was here to watch the first episode of Mabel’s Unstable? and get their first glimpse at the new show. Michael and I worked the room together for a bit, explaining how we’d known each other since college and talking about the development of the characters as they took life in New York last year. He was so very proud, and he even strutted a bit as the early praise was heaped on about the world he’d created. Holly worked the room as well, all business hidden behind a perfect smile.
“What are you doing?” I laughed as he slammed the lid back down on something that spittered and sputtered on the burner.
“Dammit, I wanted to have everything done when you got home.” He grabbed a spoon and flicked tomato something or other all over the backsplash. Which is what a backsplash is for, I suppose . . .
“What’s all this, George?” I asked, coming to rest on a high stool out of the line of fire.
“I just wanted to make you dinner, something nice. Turns out cooking is really bloody hard!” He struggled with a colander. The colander was winning. “I’d kiss you but I’m dirty.”
“I like you dirty. I’ll risk it.”
He smiled, but kept his eyes on the colander and the pasta that was now escaping. “I felt terrible about today. I just wanted, I wanted to do something that could— Oh, damn this linguine,” he mumbled.
“Can I help you? Please?” I slipped down off the stool and walked to him. Quietly I finished draining the pasta, leaving it in the colander.
He stood next to me, leaning over the sink, face troubled. “I just hate that this happened, that they would use me to go after you in this way.” He sighed.
“I know,” I answered, leaning into his side. He smelled like garlic. He smelled wonderful.
“I wish I could tell you this kind of thing won’t happen again, but it will, Grace.”
“I know.”
“It’s gonna get worse.”
“I know.” I sighed into his shoulder. “But the good outweighs the bad.”
“Does it?”
“Of course it does. Now feed me this wonderful dinner.”
I went back to my perch as he finished. I could have helped more, but I wanted to let him do this for me. Over dinner we talked about some of the better parts of the day, and we went about the business of getting past this. Past the bullshit. Past the part where someone, several someones actually, went out of their way to try to hurt both of us. We both sighed into our linguine several times.
thirteen
I loved spending quality time with my new trainer, Megan.
“As far as I can tell, you were doing great, Grace, and then you crashed your system with that stupid diet. You worked out too much, you weren’t eating enough, and your body responded by holding on to everything once you started eating again. It’ll take some time, but we can get a little of this off, although you’re pretty much where your body wants you to be.”
“My body wants me to be high in the sky, twisted like a pretzel?”
“In the meantime, we work on your inner strength.” She laughed, ignoring my feeble joke, as she downward dogged me on the balcony. Megan was an actual exercise physiologist, with a degree and zero interest in being an actor. She had her own workout facility high above the city in the Wilshire corridor. She was organic, honest, and a breath of fresh air. Literally, up this high, you could smell the ocean above the smog. I looked forward to these workouts.
“I just want to get back to where I was, that’s all.” I sighed through my legs as she had me switch poses.
“I’d like you to be even better than you were before.” She winked. “What does your boyfriend think about everything?”
“Please. He thinks the more for him to love, the better.” I snorted, her hands on my h*ps as she coaxed me into another shape. And it was true. Jack loved me for who I was, h*ps and all. Just wish the press did. After Holly put out a statement ridiculing the website that posted the pictures of Jack and his costar, the press pounced on me. And again, every time they showed Jack with this younger actress, they did a side by side of me. Always at a weird angle; always with me looking bigger than I was. For God’s sake, I was a size 8! But that was a tank in Hollywood, apparently, and no one was going to let me forget it.
But in the other camp, a smaller but quite vocal group of women online were expressing their support. More than one blogger had written about the fuss being made about my weight, increasing the dialogue about women on film and TV and the thin-thin-thin image we were all supposed to mold ourselves into. Not gonna lie, those bloggers made it easier for me to grin and bear this idiocy.
Speaking of grinning and bearing it . . .
“Okay, uncle! Uncle, I give!” I collapsed to the mat and breathed heavily after the last set of crunches were finished. Megan laughed and threw me a bottle of water, which I took gratefully. Drinking it down, I stared out at Los Angeles. From this high up, the palm trees swayed in the breeze, the glitter from a hundred Bentleys making the street below sparkle. What a town. Absently I rubbed my necklace from Jack.
His public.
His public continued to rage about me, online at least. The pictures of him and his new costar had brought another round of sniping from his biggest online fan clubs. He was never really dating me—I was a cougar who was fame hungry—it was exhausting. What was I to do? Did I admit that I hated what the press was saying about me? Did I comment? Did I shy away? Did I cower in the corner, or did I come out swinging, teeth bared and claws out like a cougar?
And in addition to all this bullshit going on about the size of my ass and whether I was sleeping with Sexy Scientist Guy, I had the biggest thing ever in my professional career going on. Which, by the way, was being overshadowed by this inane chatter. Would be nice if that could be the focus.
Glad to see we are getting back on track here . . .
My new show was set to premiere next week, and there were more interviews to go to, radio shows to call in to, hoops to jump through, and talk show hosts to charm. And I was supposed to be focusing on potted plants and their place in my natural world?
Pick your path. You don’t get to decide how the public reacts. You only get to decide how you react.
True, very true.
Victim? Warrior? Pick. Your. Path.
As I was contemplating, I saw a woman walk nervously into the gym, peering through the window. Pretty. Plump. Her eyes darting everywhere, she tensed when she saw me watching her. Her hands tugged at her T-shirt, pulling it down a bit, trying to cover up probably without even knowing it. I smiled at her, and she seemed to relax, but only a bit. Megan spied her through the window and waved her out.
“Hey, Chelsea, I’ve gotta take a quick call,” Megan told her. “Go ahead and start stretching out for a few, and then we’ll get started, okay?” She grabbed her phone and ducked back inside. Chelsea looked at me, then did a double take.
“Um, are you Grace Sheridan?”
“Have we met before?” I asked, walking over after picking up my bag.
She smiled shyly at me, again picking at her shirt and tugging it down a bit. “Well, um, I’m a big fan of Jack Hamilton.” She blushed furiously. “And, well, you know, you’re kind of all over the Internet lately.” She blushed even more.
“Ah, well, yes. That’s true.” I chuckled. “And you’re correct. I’m Grace.” I extended my hand to her.
She shook it with a grin. “I’m Chelsea. Oh my God, I can’t believe it! I’ve been seeing commercials for your new show. I can’t wait!”
“Really? Wow, that’s great. You’ll have to let me know what you think after next week.”
“I gotta tell you, at first I only knew who you were because of, well, your pictures with Jack. And you know, at first, of course, I was jealous because, well, my God, he’s gorgeous!”
She giggled, becoming more animated as she talked. I laughed with her, nodding my head. He was gorgeous.
“But then, when the press started picking on you? Dammit, that pissed me off! And I thought, well, shit, if anyone is gonna be with that beautiful man, I like the idea that it’s someone like you. Does that make sense? Sorry, I know I’m babbling, but I have to know, are you two dating? Please tell me yes,” she finally ended, breathing heavily. Her eyes were dancing, her cheeks still pink.
I took a breath on my own. “If I say yes, are you going straight to TMZ?” I winked.
“Fuck no!” she exclaimed, then slapped her hand over her mouth. “I mean . . . actually, I do mean f**k no!”
“Then f**k yes, we’re dating,” I answered, and she squealed.
I threw my head back and laughed, louder than I had in a while. As we laughed, Megan came sauntering back outside, looking like a very pretty drill sergeant.
“Grace? You still here? Usually my clients can’t wait to get out of here when I’m done with them. Chelsea, get your ass over on that mat and strike a mean warrior pose!”
Warrior?
Fuck yes. I spun toward Megan.
“Megan, what if I told you I never wanted to weigh myself again. How would you feel about that?”
“Awesome.”
“And if I said I didn’t care what I weighed, as long as I was strong?”
“Awesome.”
“Fantastic. Thanks, Megan. Nice to meet you!” I called over to Chelsea, who was indeed striking a mean-ass warrior pose.
“You too, Grace! And tell Jack I said hi!” She giggled, her warrior becoming a little unbalanced as Megan pushed me to the door.
“Go away now, Grace. Can’t have you distracting my clients.” She shook her head.
“I’m going, I’m going. But seriously, I’m not weighing myself anymore,” I told her.
“Good girl.” She winked.
I left feeling lighter than I had in weeks.
fourteen
Grace Sheridan was the toast of late-night this week, with appearances on Jay Leno, David Letterman, and Jimmy Fallon. While all three hosts tried to get her to comment on the status of her relationship with alleged boyfriend Jack Hamilton, Grace deftly kept the conversation focused on her career and her new show, Mable Unstable?, set to premiere in just two days. But the other hot topic that has dogged her lately, her weight, was not off-limits at all. In fact, Grace spoke candidly to Jimmy Fallon when he asked about her weight and what being asked to lose weight for this role had done to her:
“Well, Jimmy. Can I call you Jimmy?”
“It is my name.”
“Can I just tell you—before we talk about my giant ass—how big of a crush I have on you? Seriously, big crush, Jimmy.”
“Well. Now I’m blushing.”
“Then this would be a good time to talk about my giant ass, right? Since you’re already blushing?”
“It seems like a good time. But really, how in the world did this story get started? And I gotta tell you, for all the fellas in the audience, I’m just gonna say, it’s not giant, but you do have one sweet ass.”
(Audience applauding)
“Thanks, boys! I guess it started when I was cast in Mable Unstable? I’m new to this industry. Let’s not pretend, okay? And I know it’s just part of it, losing weight or gaining weight for a role. Makes sense, right? But then my body figured out it was exactly where it was supposed to be! And I realized I was not willing to risk my health, especially when in the real world outside of Hollywood, no one would ever call me fat! So this is me, curves and all.”
“Thank God for curves. That’s all I can say.”
“Aw, thanks, Jimmy.”
“And now I’m blushing again . . .”
Grace told similar stories on Late Show and The Tonight Show, responding to her critics with an honest assessment of her body and choice words about what Hollywood expects from women. Looks like Grace Sheridan isn’t playing . . .
Grace Sheridan continues to dominate the headlines this week as she’s crossed the country twice to promote her new show premiering tomorrow on Venue. Appearing with the ladies on The View, she took on her critics once more, answering questions about the pictures that have surfaced of her prior to her return to acting, when she was substantially heavier.
“That was me. Would I have preferred that those pictures of me when I was not in a great place in my life never surfaced? Of course. But I have to own that part of my life too. I was out of control, unhappy, and feeling buried by a situation that was my own creation. I struggled with my weight the way so many women in this country do, and I still struggle with it. But for me, being healthy was a choice I made for myself, to be strong and to be aware of the decisions I made on a daily basis, so I could be the kind of person I wanted to be.”
When asked about whether she is dating Jack Hamilton, Sheridan once again dodged the question, stating only, “He’s pretty cute, isn’t he?”
TMZ
A private screening for Mabel’s Unstable? was arranged tonight at Sam’s, a restaurant in Hollywood, with the entire cast in attendance, including Grace Sheridan and Jack Hamilton. For a couple who isn’t dating, they sure show up at the same place an awful lot, don’t they? They arrived separately. Grace showed up with her manager, Holly Newman, and the creator of the new show, Michael O’Connell. Jack arrived much later with bad boy Adam Kasen in tow. Adam stopped outside to sign autographs for a few minutes, rolling his eyes when asked about whether he was causing friction between Jack and Grace. “Are they dating?” he asked the crowd, then smirked and disappeared inside.
I settled back in my chair, tummy fluttering in anticipation. All night I had moved from table to table, cluster to cluster of people, chatting, talking—I suppose you could even say schmoozing. The cast and crew, their families and friends and plus ones, everyone was here to watch the first episode of Mabel’s Unstable? and get their first glimpse at the new show. Michael and I worked the room together for a bit, explaining how we’d known each other since college and talking about the development of the characters as they took life in New York last year. He was so very proud, and he even strutted a bit as the early praise was heaped on about the world he’d created. Holly worked the room as well, all business hidden behind a perfect smile.
