“Oh, that sucks,” I say, feeling bad for lying to her. “Um, you look amazing.”
She does a little twirl, allowing me to check her out. Her hair has been changed from its usual bleached blond to a softer shade with brown undertones. Undertones are probably something a guy like me shouldn’t know about, but I do. Keatyn always has very precise descriptions for the actresses she wants cast in our movies. Anyway, Shelby looks gorgeous, and I can’t help but appreciate it. Her boobs are restrained in a low-cut gown that has sheer mesh covering her cleavage while still giving a hint of the creamy skin beneath. The rest of the black dress drapes fluidly over her curves, but isn’t the skintight version she usually prefers. Her makeup is soft and pretty rather than harsh and dark. The effect is stunning, really.
“I’ve been totally pampered today,” she says, reaching for my zipper. “I’d like to pamper you in return.”
I grab her hand. “Although I would love to have your kind of pampering, you look too beautiful. Let’s go to dinner first.”
She freezes, staring at me with wide eyes. “Really, Riley? You think I look beautiful? Like not just hot, but actually pretty?”
“Yes, you look beautiful. And I told you, I want to get to know you better. Let’s go eat then when we come back I will pamper you.”
She grabs my face and kisses it then puts her arm in the crook of my elbow, allowing me to escort her out the door.
At dinner, I learn more about her family. And the picture is not pretty. She ran away at sixteen and has been on her own ever since. Her mom worked two jobs to make ends meet and she had a deadbeat stepfather. When Shelby started developing, he took notice. Although he hadn’t done anything inappropriate yet, she says she knew it was coming. He’d snuck into her bedroom one night and told her what they were going to do. Fortunately, her mom got off early, and he didn’t have the chance. She didn’t stick around to find out if he was serious. She moved in with an older guy, and together they went to Vegas. She got a fake ID and worked underage as a dancer. After they broke up, she moved to L.A. with dreams of becoming an actress.
“You never told me you wanted to be an actress,” I say, as the waiter refills my champagne and removes our dinner plates.
“Isn’t that what every girl who comes here dreams of? Then reality sets in after you’ve gone to what feels like a million casting calls.”
“You know, I could get you a part in a movie.”
“You told me you don’t cast girls who you sleep with.”
“I never have before.” She smiles a pretty, white-toothed smile. “Did you get your teeth whitened too?”
She laughs and covers her mouth with her hand. “Tyler made me.”
“Tyler did good,” I say again, reveling in her beauty. “I bet if you looked like this, you would have been cast long before I ever met you.”
“I didn’t really know how to look—or act—like a lady. I’ve been watching the women here. They behave differently. Their body language. The way they hold themselves, like they are all royalty even if they’re not. You know, some of those Housewives were filming here today. It was exciting. I love watching that show. All their drama. It’s such an escape from reality because their drama is nothing like real life. None of them know what it’s like to not have money to cover their rent. They complain about being so tired, but all they did was work out, go to lunch, and talk behind each other’s backs. I mean, I highly doubt any of them have ever worked a double shift before. Now, that’s tired.”
“I like that you’re so down to earth.”
“I’m ready to get down to earth with you, Riley. Could we skip dessert and go back to the room?”
“Yes, we can,” I say, summoning the waiter for the check and looking forward to what’s to come.
WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 15th
Captive Films - Santa Monica
DAWSON
I call Vanessa’s cell phone only to get sent straight to voicemail. She was supposed to have attended a marketing meeting this morning but didn’t show. And that’s unlike her.
I’m torn between wanting to know and not wanting to know what happened with Bam last night. But my concern gets the best of me, so I call her house phone.
Her butler, Bernard, answers.
“I’m sorry to bother you, but I just wanted to check on Vanessa. She isn’t answering her cell and missed a business meeting at Captive this morning.”
“She must have forgotten. She is out on the terrace having brunch with Mr. Martinez. Would you like to speak with her or shall I relay a message?”
“Uh, neither. Thanks. I’ll call her later.”
I put my head down on my desk, feeling defeated.
He spent the night with her.
That tells me everything I need to know.
A few hours later, she walks into my office. Her eyes are a little red, and she looks like she didn’t sleep.
I can’t bear to think about what she was doing with him that kept her up all night.