Someone I Used to Know

chapter Two

Declan


I watched the feisty woman bail out after Little’s exclamation. While I admit tact wasn’t exactly Madeline’s forte, the blonde had reacted like her darkest secret had just been uncovered for the first time. Didn’t she know that any literate person in the world had access to that information? Her entire journey from stuck-up princess to pregnant teen was documented in hardback, paperback, eBook, and was soon to-be on movie screens.

Cameron shot Madeline a hard glare before tearing out after his leading lady.

“What?” Madeline demanded, turning her intense gaze on me since I was the only person left that she wasn’t paying.

“She seems a bit quick to spit the dummy.” I ran a hand through my hair and regretted it instantly. That was going to cost me at least another fifteen minutes in the chair. Apparently ‘messy’ hair could only be attained with the help of several stylists and a personal hairdresser. I’d learned the hard way that my actually messy hair was deemed unacceptable.

“English, Declan!” If rolling your eyes was an Olympic sport, Madeline would have as many gold medals as that swimming bloke.

Even if the little sheila looked like she’d sucked on a sour lollie most of the time, I still had a soft spot for her. It was easy to forget she was just eighteen, especially when she was mouthing off or making demands, but at the end of the day, Madeline was just a kid. I’d grown up the same way she had, jumping from television set to movie set to whatever publicity tour was called for.

“Tell one of your people to start keeping a list of Australian slang,” I joked with a wink, but unlike most of the female population, she neither blushed nor giggled. Instead, she snapped her fingers, pulling the raven haired girl to her left out of her texting coma.

“Keep a list of Declan’s weird words and phrases,” she ordered briskly before giving me a little smirk. “Maybe, if I could understand a damn thing he says, we could actually produce a little chemistry on screen.”

My movements were sharp in a mock salute, and then I began my explanation, “Item one: the real Adley Adair is quick to ‘spit the dummy’. The American translation: she is quick to get upset. The Declan Davies translation: Adley Adair obviously has a stick up her ass, and you shouldn’t worry about her.”

“That’s easy for you to say.” I could tell from the look on her face that she was worrying about it quite a bit. “You haven’t bombed the last week of filming. American translation: I don’t understand her character, and it shows. Madeline Little translation: I suck, and the real Adley Adair is my one chance to get inside the character’s head.”

Her obvious dejection startled her entourage out of their technology stupor, and they were quick to jump in with the normal ass-kissing slogans. Having to find a new cash cow this late in the game just wasn’t an option for these whackers. American translation: mooching a*sholes.

I felt envious of her though, not for all her offsiders, but for her passion. I couldn’t summon up a shred of that intensity for anything in my life. Honestly, the little exchange that happened with Adley was the most interesting thing that had occurred in months. When I’d been younger, it had been easier to squelch the boredom with little distractions. There were always girls willing to fall in love (or at least a bit of lust), and new, risky film projects to challenge me.

Twenty-three year olds are supposed to feel invincible. They’re out there making mistakes, and finding excitement in every new adventure. I felt like an eighty year old man – not wise – but bored shitless with the life I’d worked so hard to achieve. No one ever tells you what it’s going to be like when you reach the top of the mountain, or how it’s going to be when you have nothing else to fight for, when all your dreams have come true and you’re standing their alone, with no f*cking clue what to do next.

“You’re needed on stage five, Mr. Davies,” a squatty little AD told me before shuffling away.

I guess stage five came next. My feet carried me forward as my brain zoned out into the life I’d created.

+++

“You lied.” I overheard the always-lovely Adley Adair scold Cam as they entered the summer themed party together, two days after our charming first introduction.

Her frown didn’t look fresh. I would almost guarantee it had been perched on her face since the moment he told her about the cast and crew pool party being held at the director’s – Georgia’s – house. Georgia had Madeline and I over early to read through a few script changes.

When I’d heard Georgia Torres was directing the film, I’d been really pleased. Anyone who had seen her work knew she was talented. I just wasn’t expecting such a hard ass to live inside the sweet looking, southern woman. Not even that Alabama accent could cover up her ruthlessness when it came to creating a quality film.

The result was that I’d been here for hours, and the pretty socialite snuggled into my side couldn’t even perk up my attention. Chatting beside one of the many, handcrafted fire pits that circled the marble pool, I couldn’t blame my disinterest on any fault of the twenty-year-old who’d informed me eagerly of her father’s high-standing position in the same studio that was producing The Girl in the Yellow Dress.

She seemed intelligent enough, debating the merits of a Sophia Coppola film that had just been released, even if she did sound a bit like she was reciting a movie review word for word. God forbid anyone have an original thought in this industry anymore.

“Quit being a bitch,” Cam replied to her with surprisingly good cheer, considering the content of his statement. “You’re getting paid to be inspirational. I told you we weren’t going back to the set until Monday. I didn’t say anything about gatherings that involved the cast.”

They were standing close enough that I could comfortably eavesdrop unnoticed.

In the time I’d gotten to know Cameron, I’d come to think of him as a decent bloke. I saw him, his essence, in The Girl in the Yellow Dress, but Adley was turning out to be an enigma. It was hard to reconcile the character with the girl I’d met. Besides being beautiful and sharing the name Adley Adair, she wasn’t anything like her courageous, strong, magnificently flawed counterpart.

“Do you see how Madeline Little is watching me?” she hissed, appearing genuinely frightened as she eased behind him.

My gaze battled through all the lovely ladies nearly falling out of their bathers around the pool, until I spotted my young costar amongst the revelers.

“What?” the producer’s daughter asked, joining in my laughter as if she were in on the joke.

Madeline looked like a lion stalking its prey in the bush. Her piercing green eyes were locked onto Adley, while her face split wide open in, what I could only imagine, was her best attempt at a welcoming smile. The effect was grotesque.

“Why is this starting to feel like the sequel to Single White Female?” there was real unease in Adley’s question, but she’d moved too far behind Cam for me to see if her facial expression matched.

A violent snap jostled me from my nosiness, and I turned to the girl whose name was as trivial as her presence had just become. Her bony hand was still raised at my eyelevel where she’d just snapped her fingers.

“Are you listening to me?”

“I’m sorry, no.” I told a lie and a truth. I was neither listening nor was I sorry about it. “I’ve got kangaroos in the top paddock tonight, I’m afraid. I spotted someone I know, and they’ll be as mad as a cut snake if I don’t go say g’day. Have a spiffy night!”

When in doubt, always leave them with a little jargon from the Lucky Country to really throw them off. I made my escape as her face crumbled with confusion, darting towards the house.

“Where’d she go?” Madeline came out of nowhere, popping up in front of me.

Under the weight of the small girl’s glare, I couldn’t blame Adley for being nervous. Madeline was scary, especially since she looked a little like a she-devil, her auburn hair set ablaze by the sinking sun.

I glanced back to where Adley had been standing with Cam, and found him observing the view of the rolling hills alone.

“Calm down, ankle biter.” I called on my most charming smile.

She glared harder. I shivered.

“Honestly, I don’t know where she went, but I’d say your best chance of finding her is sticking near Cam. She doesn’t exactly know anyone else.” I could feel guilty for selling Adley out later. I was just happy to be working my way back into Madeline’s good graces. Holy dooley, she could be intimidating!

She jerked her chin in a stern nod, and turned on her heel. Three steps later, she turned back to me.

“What’s an ‘ankle biter’?” she asked of the nickname I’d used.

“I’ll be sure to text the translation to Fran so she can add it to your list.”

Madeline nodded her approval, before slinking off in the throng circulating around us.

After another thirty minutes of mingling, I felt like I’d adequately fulfilled my duty. I’d kept an eye out for Adley’s reappearance, but with Madeline glued to Cam’s side, the sharp tongued vixen remained invisible. With the dwindling possibility of another Adley vs. Adley showdown, I had no interest in staying.

I considered finding the tart from earlier, but even the minimal effort of excusing my behavior wasn’t worth it. Setting my beer down, I slipped out the back and headed down the driveway. I slowed down, approaching the tall, iron gate that protected the famous director’s house. Apparently I wasn’t the only one making a getaway, although Adley’s reasons for escaping were slightly more legitimate than boredom.

She was staring up at the obstruction as if measuring her chances of scaling it.

The dry heat had forced her hair into a ponytail that sat high on her head, every shade of blonde imaginable swung down her back. Her gauzy cover-up didn’t do much to hinder the absolutely stunning view of the deep red swimming costume, nestling her pert ass. I had no problem identifying her physical appeal, even if I found her temperament lacking and unpleasant.

“This is called a gate.” I spoke as slowly as I was implying she was. “You press a button to open it… I’d heard the American education was bodgy, but I had no idea it was so crippling.”

She must have jumped a full kilometer in the air, surprised either by my presence or close proximity. A graceful hand clasped over her heart, and again, I couldn’t help but note her body’s finer attributes. It wasn’t that I found her face unattractive – far from it, in fact.

I could appreciate a painting without wanting to put it in my house. My preferences tended to sway a little more exotically. Adley was almost too pretty, her symmetrical features smoothed to the point of defying deeper beauty. There was nothing of interest about her face, nothing that was due a second glance.

“I had no idea how many celebrities got their jollies stalking the innocent,” she shot back, her reply an arrow arching through the air right at me.

“Says the girl who accused me being arrogant. What is it, exactly, that makes you worth stalking?”

She huffed, and crossed her arms over the chest I was already regretting my admiration of.

“Are you going to let me out or did you just come down here stare at me?”

An incredulous laugh bubbled from my lips. Was she serious? Like I would follow her down just to be blessed with such stunning charm. Yeah, right. I marched over to the keypad and fingered in the quick series of digits.

We stood in silence as the double gates swung open on either side of us, and I purposefully ignored the questioning looks she littered me with as we both exited, walking in the same direction. It was obvious Cam hadn’t mentioned to her that Georgia wasn’t the only production member sharing the neighborhood with him. While Georgia’s huge estate was custom built and one of the first in the area, Cam and I lived in the newer section, made up of nearly identical mini-mansions, all looking like they’d come from some variation of the same cookie cutter. Our matching houses were even on the same block, just a few homes down from each other.

I wasn’t about to explain myself to her. It was much too satisfying watching the worried gears spin in her head as she tried to figure out why I was seemingly following her back to Cam’s. I doubted she’d accuse me of trying to go home with her, when I’d already called her out for being conceited. Her pride wouldn’t let her. She had no choice, but to continue through the gated community like nothing was amiss.

For three whole minutes we walked in silence, but I could tell that was a real accomplishment for her. She didn’t seem like the type to let things sit on her mind for long.

“No one’s going to bother you? Not to inflate your ego further or anything, but aren’t you supposed to be famous? Shouldn’t there be fans and paparazzi hounding you at your every waking moment?”

A gruff noise came from the back of my throat.

“The paparazzi can’t legally get in here, not that it always stops them, but the guards here are good about keeping the community free of disturbances.”

“So you live here too,” her statement was spoken sensibly, as if she was just saying it for the sake of storing the information for later. She kicked a pebble as we kept pace together. The soft clicks on the pavement pausing before she caught up with it again.

She didn’t look around at the houses towering behind their manicured lawns, and it made me study the development through new eyes. I wanted to know what she thought about miniature mansions that were big enough to house more than one family, and probably went unoccupied for months at a time when their important owners were off ruling the one percent.

Had she grown up in a house like one of these? In The Girl in the Yellow Dress, Adley Adair had grown up in a picturesque home in a suburb similar to this one, but meeting the real Adley made me question a lot of the book’s authenticity. Everything else in the book was like reading the truth of your own first love. It was honesty that went deeper than the pages, and called to life something forgotten in my own soul. The book spoke to a forgotten notion of first love and the scars it left behind. That was why it was so popular.

It was impossible not to connect with Cam’s Adley Adair. His words painted the portrait of a delicate ballerina faced with an unimaginable choice. He’d made her so much…more. His character was a thousand times more whole, more real, than the woman beside me.

As hard as I looked, I couldn’t even catch a glimpse of that girl.

The Adley I’d met was hard, like a diamond with none of the sparkling appeal. It bled into everything she was; the way she walked and the stiffness around her mouth when she talked to anyone who wasn’t Cam. It was in her stance, and especially, in her eyes. They were an impenetrable navy, dense and unyielding.

I doubted I’d ever be able to see what Cam had seen in her. Who knew if that girl even existed anymore.

And yet, knowing all that, I couldn’t tear my eyes away. I couldn’t stop myself from trying to find the girl in the rough.

“What?” She nervously wiped her mouth like the cause of my examination was leftover food or a stain on her lips.

“Nothing.” I dragged my focus away. There was nothing I could do for the scowl bending my mouth though. “You’re just…unexpected.”

“You keep saying that,” she complained, frowning right back at me.

I couldn’t stop thinking it either. The real problem was deciding whether it was a good or bad thing.