Private Lives

33



Jessica slipped on her oversized Tom Ford sunglasses and glanced about nervously. The Primrose Gym on Mulholland was LA’s workout space du jour, and as such it was exactly the sort of place you’d expect the paparazzi to be lurking. Not that Jessica usually minded; in fact she’d often had her publicist tip them off that she would be there at a certain time, looking lithe and lovely. Today, however, had been a particularly strenuous and sweaty Bikram yoga session, and her beet-red face was not the sort of look she wanted to project to the outside world.

Satisfied the coast was clear, she walked as fast as she could to her car and leapt inside, only allowing herself to relax when the doors were firmly locked.

Rigorous exercise always made her feel fantastic, as if her whole body was being purged, and today was no exception. In fact today was the first day in ages she had felt a surge of optimism that life was returning to normal.

She smiled as her mobile rang and she saw the caller was Joe Kennington. She hadn’t heard from him about her invitation to Tori’s art party and was beginning to worry she’d pushed it too far.

‘Joe, honey,’ she purred into the phone. ‘How are you?’

‘Not so good, Jess,’ he said. She noticed the panic in his voice immediately. ‘Have you seen US Weekly?’

‘No, I came straight to the gym this morning. What’s the matter? Is it about the reshoot on Slayer?’ She had been worried that the industry would read ‘reshoot’ as ‘disaster’.

‘No, it’s about you and me,’ said Joe. ‘About how we went out for a romantic meal and then . . .’

‘Then what, Joe?’ she snapped, a familiar flutter of panic rising in her belly.

His rich baritone sounded meek, apologetic.

‘And then they’re saying you came on to me and I turned you down. Honestly, Jess, I didn’t tell anyone about it.’

It was like a fierce sideways blow. A dozen different thoughts leapt into Jess’s head. None of them good.

‘Didn’t tell anyone? Then how the hell did they get hold of the story?’

‘Who knows? We didn’t exactly go to the most discreet place for dinner.’

‘Not that,’ she snapped. It was a fairly standard procedure for gossip magazines to link two stars on a movie, especially if they were both single and seen out in public. ‘I want to know how the hell they found out about . . . the thing at my house.’

‘I swear to you, Jess, I didn’t tell anyone.’

‘Well neither did I!’ she growled. That wasn’t strictly true. Her mother had seen Joe arrive at the house, and when she’d returned she’d found Jessica moping on the balcony with a joint, all alone. As for Mai, she was always sneaking around the house like some silent ninja. For all Jess knew, she was making a packet on the side selling her secrets. ‘You must have told someone, Joe.’

‘Why would I?’ said Joe. ‘I mean, if they find out the truth, I have more to lose, don’t I?’

‘Not in this case,’ said Jessica, her voice rising. ‘According to this story, you look like a goddamn stud and I look like a pathetic, needy reject.’

‘I’m sorry, Jess,’ he said. ‘I promise you I didn’t—’

‘Bullshit, Joe!’ she yelled, throwing the phone across the car. She twisted the ignition of the Aston and stamped her foot to the floor, fishtailing out of the parking lot.

‘I sound like some stupid desperate bitch who can’t even get a man by begging.’ Jessica threw the copy of US Weekly on to Sylvia’s desk in floods of tears.

‘It could be worse,’ said her publicist in her usual measured tones. She leaned over and tapped the paparazzi picture of Jessica in a bikini. ‘At least they used the Jeff Benton pictures. You look amazing.’

‘And what does that matter?’ Jessica sobbed. ‘The story says Joe turned me down; anyone reading that is going to ask themselves why. Because I’m disgusting to look at – or because I’m half-crazy.’

‘Come on, it’s not the end of the world,’ said Sylvia. ‘The rest of the press has all been supportive of you.’

Jessica barked out a laugh.

‘For a PR expert, you don’t seem to have much understanding of how these things work. I’m screwed and you know it.’

It was true that the magazines had got behind Jess during the Sam fiasco, but that had been weeks ago, and in celebrity terms, four weeks was a lifetime. The press needed a new angle and the Joe story gave it to them on a plate. Jessica wasn’t just heart-broken, she was desperate, unf*ckable. Unlovable. Now all the stories about her bravery and strength would morph into stories about weeping fits and needy tantrums. She had seen it happen with so many other A-listers going through break-ups. The public’s sympathy was finite; they quickly became bored and wanted something else to gossip about.

‘Look, I can talk to Joe’s people,’ said Sylvia. ‘We can put a counter-story out there. Maybe how you too have become just close friends and he’s been supporting you through your ordeal.’

‘It’s too late for that. Millions of people have already read this shit.’ She snatched the magazine back and began reading out sections of the text.

‘“Jessica lured the Oscar-nominated actor back to her luxury Malibu home.” See? I “lured” him back there like some deranged serial killer. Or how about this: “Jessica split from her fiancé Sam Charles a month ago.” They don’t mention that the prick cheated on me; it’s like I drove him away! And they even say Joe’s trying to get back with his wife, like he’d prefer that old hag over me!’

‘We can spin this,’ said Sylvia. ‘To be honest, it’s good early press for Slayer. If people think there is chemistry between the leads, they’re more likely to go out and see it.’

‘The movie isn’t even released for eight months!’ cried Jessica. ‘And I want people to go see it because I’m a great actress, not because I’m part of some Brangelina-type sideshow.’

Sylvia looked at her, her eyebrows raised.

‘Did anything happen between you and Joe?’ she asked.

‘You’ve read the feature,’ snapped Jessica. ‘No, nothing.’

‘But . . . did you try to seduce him?’

Jessica looked away.

‘He’s about ninety, Sylvia.’

‘Come on now, Jess, this is me.’

Jessica glanced at her. Sylvia had been around the block three or four times, she had dealt with – and hidden – more celebrity scandals than you could imagine. It was no use lying to her.

‘I might have tried to kiss him,’ she croaked. ‘I’d had a drink, I was feeling emotional; about the end of the shoot, about Sam. It’s been hard for me, you know.’

Sylvia came over and put a motherly arm around her shoulders.

‘We’ll sort this, okay?’ she said. ‘We’ll get to the bottom of it.’

Jessica was now genuinely emotional. Everything that was happening to her was so unfair. She hadn’t done anything to warrant any of it.

‘He’s a complete bastard,’ she said, her hands balling into fists. ‘He’s just using me to keep the real story out of the press.’

‘What real story?’ said Sylvia, frowning.

At the time, Jessica had felt genuinely sorry for Joe. She could see how difficult it must have been for him trying to make it as a leading man when the industry still saw being gay as a problem. But that was before he had tried to screw her over.

‘You do know why he rejected me?’ she said.

Sylvia shrugged.

‘Because he’s a gentleman?’

‘Because he’s a gay gentleman.’

If Sylvia was surprised by the news, she didn’t show it.

‘You want a counter-story? Why don’t we just tell the world why Joe turned me down?’ said Jessica.

Sylvia shook her head.

‘We should leave Joe’s private life out of this.’

‘Why? His private life is my public humiliation.’

‘Jess. Leave it,’ said Sylvia firmly. ‘Joe is a national treasure. You screw with his image, this town will come down on you like a truckload of horseshit.’

Jessica had rarely heard Sylvia swear. It was so at odds with her steely, matronly persona.

‘Look, what’s done is done,’ Sylvia said. ‘Let’s just think about how we can turn this to our advantage.’

Too right, Jessica thought, a plan forming in her head. It was so obvious, she wondered why she hadn’t thought of it earlier.

‘Could I just have one moment alone? I need to make a call.’

Sylvia looked reluctant until Jessica flashed her a fiery look.

‘Fine,’ she said, closing the door behind her.

Jessica took out her cell phone and scrolled to Joe’s number.

‘It’s Jess,’ she said without preamble.

‘How are you?’ he asked, his voice guarded. Hardly surprising, seeing as she had screamed at him then hung up the last time they had spoken.

‘I just wanted to apologise for how I spoke to you,’ she said. ‘I was upset, but there’s no excuse for behaving like that.’

‘No, I totally understand,’ said Joe.

‘Yes, and I also wanted to say that of course you can count on me to keep your secret. One friend to another.’

‘I appreciate it, Jess. And if there’s anything I can do for you, like that Tori Adams party . . .’

‘Well, it’s funny you should bring Tori up,’ she said.

‘What do you want?’ he said cautiously. He was experienced enough in the ways of Hollywood to know that everyone was after something.

‘I’ll cut to the chase, Joe. I want the role of Daisy in Purple Skies. I know you’re tight with Tori and I know she has the power to decide who’s chosen.’

‘But I can’t—’ he began.

‘Oh I think you can, Joe,’ said Jessica, her voice hard and clipped. ‘I think we both know how much this favour would mean to me. And how much pain it would avoid.’

‘I don’t respond well to threats, Jessica,’ he said, his voice low.

‘It’s not a threat, Joe, it’s a business transaction. You know what I want, I know what you want.’

‘You didn’t let me finish. I was about to say I can’t ask Tori to cast you as Daisy, because they offered it to Angelina Jolie this morning.’

Jessica felt the room tilt.

‘I would have tried to help you. One friend to another,’ he said sarcastically. ‘Maybe I could have pushed Tori to give you something else in the movie. But now? I don’t think so.’

Jessica moved her mouth, but nothing came out.

‘I know you youngsters all think the industry is dog-eat-dog,’ said Joe, his voice quivering with anger. ‘You’ll climb over anyone to get what you want. But actually, it’s all about friendship, about helping each other out where you can. That’s how I’ve been friends with Tori Adams for so long, that’s how I’ve got to the top.’

‘Yeah, that and sucking cock,’ snapped Jessica and stabbed the End Call button.

She stood there staring down at the phone in her hand. She couldn’t take it in. The part had gone. She had been so sure she would get it, that it would be her way out of girl-next-door TV star and into the realms of being a proper serious actress. She was screwed, royally screwed. She turned and walked out of the office, straight past Sylvia, who was waiting in the corridor.

‘Jess, what’s the matter?’ she called. ‘Where are you going?’

‘Home,’ she said. ‘To get more stoned than I’ve ever been before.’