Page 8 of Scripted for Love and Poison
He was taken aback by security that could be described at best as lax and at worst as neglectful. The all-clad-in-black team at the entrance had barely checked the two printed invitations Sol had produced out of her clutch, and Luke had the feeling anyone dressed in the right way and who had the right attitude would easily slip through unnoticed. Things didn’t get much better once they were inside the venue.
Of course, as a Londoner, he was somewhat used to the odd occurrence of bumping into Peter Dinklage after having breakfast in a popular spot in Notting Hill, seeing Felicity Jones making her way out of a West End theater, or even chatting to Emma Thompson at his regular yoga studio. What Luke wasn’t prepared for was the sheer number of so-called celebrities currently together under the same roof in a too-densely-populated room where actors and popular filmmakers were prey to many journalists wanting a word, a picture, or even a hug.
“I think I just stepped on Kiefer Sutherland’s foot by accident,” Luke whispered in Sol’s ear, abashed.
“I know, it’s crazy. This is way too packed,” Sol told him, her eyes scanning the room avidly.
“I tried apologizing, but he left with the same stealthiness he’d used to end up under my foot.”
“Don’t worry,” she said, absentmindedly.
“Are you looking for Simon?” Luke suddenly also felt compelled to check the room for the missing critic, following her gaze.
“Who?” Sol asked. “Oh, Simon. No, I was looking for Greta Gerwig, actually. She’s nominated forBarbie, and I’m dying to see her.”
“But you remember we promised Julie we’d look for Simon, right?” Luke asked her, amused.
“Youpromised her. I merely facilitated the conversation.” She glanced up at him, the corner of her mouth lifting coyly.
He was about to tell her how gorgeous she looked and kiss her, but they were unfortunately interrupted by a petite, middle-aged woman making rapid progress toward them and talking in a shrill tone.
“Sol Novo! You didn’t tell me you were coming!” the woman screamed while still more than two meters away, and that got Sol’s attention.
“Claudia! I didn’t know you’d be here!” Sol said in a similar tone. For the second day in a row, Luke was surprised by an aspect of his partner’s personality he’d still not learned about. Her English had become louder. Her statements suddenly sounded like questions, and her accent had turned to pure California Uptalk. It was as if she was a different Sol, one he hadn’t been exposed to before. But unlike her frequent-flier persona, Luke was somewhat charmed by this California Girl Sol. “But of course you came,” Sol added.
“I come every year. Don’t you?” the woman named Claudia said, hugging Sol and eyeing Luke with an appreciative stare.
“This is the first year I’ve come since I left LA, actually,” Sol explained. “It’s so far from London ...”
“Nonsense! But you need to introduce me to this eye candy of a man by your side,” Claudia said.
“This is my partner, Luke. He’s a private investigator,” said Sol. “Luke, this is Claudia Hopkins. She was my editor and manager atPerformance Weekly, where she still works as an executive editor.”
“Nice meeting you,” said Luke, going to shake Claudia’s hand. But she dismissed him, clapping him on the shoulder with the tip of her encrusted clutch instead.
“Oh my god! That accent!” said Claudia in an even louder tone. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming and that you had a hot British boyfriend!”
“Not my boyfriend,” said Sol. “Luke’s my romantic partner.”
“Tomato, tomahto. No wonder you don’t want to leave London, though!” Claudia continued, and Luke was starting to get annoyed by her brazen personality and the fact that he could sense Sol’s discomfort. “And you said he’s a private investigator ... That sounds naughty.”
“Luke co-owns an agency in London with quite the success rate in high-profile entertainment cases, actually,” Sol said.
“He does, huh?” said Claudia. “It’s a pity you’re so attached to London, because the right position just opened up, and I would offer it to you on the spot.”
“Now I’m intrigued,” said Sol, and Luke could see her thinking behind a veil of perfect composure and nonchalance.
“Travis isfinallyretiring,” said Claudia. “And we’re looking for an experienced TV reviewer with a personal point of view to replace him. And, of course, I thought of you immediately!”
“Thanks. That’s so ...” Sol was apparently too flustered to find the right words. “Will you send me the job posting so that I can take a look? It sounds so—interesting.”
“Sending it right this moment.” Claudia took her oversized iPhone and a pair of equally big and bold reading glasses out of her minuscule clutch, and she started typing. “There, I sent it. But the position is going to be based in Los Angeles—New York perhaps, for the right candidate—and I’m not sure you want to lose sight of this cutie.”
Sol fake laughed uncomfortably, and Luke imitated her, but he could sense her body going stiff.
“Listen, we need to go grab a drink, as I can’t do these things sober, but I’m so glad we bumped into you,” Sol said, her California drawl fully on. “And thanks for thinking about me!”
“Nonsense! You’d be doing us a favor. But you can’t leave yet, because I haven’t told you all the gossip!”
