Page 17 of How to Kiss a Movie Star
Joni lifts her shoulders as if to say there’s no harm in hearing him out, and I nod.
“Okay, what’s the plan?” I ask.
“Fake a relationship,” Simon says bluntly. “Drop a few photos of you with someone else, someone whowon’ttalk to the press, and make it clear you’rereallyenjoying your time with this woman. Then bring her with you to the premiere.”
I’m already shaking my head. This is exactly the kind of Hollywood drama I was trying to get away from when I moved. Joni’s frown echoes mine, and she opens her mouth, but Kenji speaks before she can. “I’m guessing you already have someonein mind?”
Kenji is a few steps ahead of me, butof courseSimon has someone else in mind. He’s a publicist with multiple clients. If he can work this so it benefits someone else as well? He will.
“I’m not faking a relationship,” I say before Simon can mention any names or provide even one more detail of his ridiculous plan. “Especially not with any actresses.”
“Not all actresses are like Claire,” Simon says, his tone annoyingly gentle, to the point that he sounds like he’s patronizing me. “We’ll choose someone discreet. Someone experienced with the media.”
I turn and open the fridge, pulling a water bottle from inside. “I don’t disagree with you,” I say as I twist off the top. “Not all actors are like Claire. But the ones who have the discretion and the media experience to pull off what you’re suggesting arenotthe ones who need to fake a relationship to get ahead in their careers.”
“You're too generous,” Simon says dryly. “Just let me mention a few names—”
“No.” I toss the water bottle lid onto the counter, and it clatters into the phone. “I won’t do it. I already told you I want my personal life to be off-limits. It’s why I moved. I don’t want to play these kinds of games anymore. Even to shut up Claire.”
It wasn’t all that long ago that I milked the media as much as the next guy, as much as Claire, even, taking every leg up the extra attention would give me. But I don’t want that life anymore. I want to take myself seriously enough to believe I can maintain my career because I’m good at what I do, not because TMZ won’t stop speculating about who I’m dating. Others have done it. Separated their personal lives. Made their public persona about theirwork.I have to believe I can do the same thing—that I can take back control before I lose control altogether.
“I admire your idealism,” Simon says, “but what other solution is there? Either you control the narrative, or Claire does. It’s your choice.”
“What I want is for Lea to control the narrative. She doesn’t deserve to have her directorial debut overshadowed by the personal drama of a bunch of idiot actors.”
“We don’t always get what we want, Flint. Ideals are nice, but it doesn’t change the reality of the situation. Just think about it,” he says. “We can circle back next week. In the meantime, I’ll have the details of the Oakley thing within the week. I’ll send them to you and Kenji as soon as I have them. All right. That’s it from me. I’m out.” Simon disappears from the call, and I look at Kenji.
“The Oakley thing?” I ask.
“Sunglasses,” Kenji says. “You’re doing their spring ad campaign.”
“I am?”
Joni exchanges a quick glance with Nate, then looks back at me. “They came to see you in Costa Rica.”
Details flood my memory. The Oakley peopledidcome to see me. We had dinner at a little cantina on the beach, and they plied me with alcohol and showered me with compliments, and I guess…here we are. “When? And how long will it take?”
“Not until November,” Kenji says. “And it shouldn’t take more than a couple of days. One for the photoshoot, another to film the commercial. Those are the details we’ll have from Simon this week.”
I nod. “Fine. But it can’t conflict with Thanksgiving.” It’s been years since I’ve spent the holidays with my family. I’ve had to modify my expectations somewhat since getting home—I’m not spending nearly as much time with my brothers as I thought I would—but the holidays are different. That’s when we’resupposedto be together.
Joni’s expression softens. With the angular cut of her straight blond hair, hitting right at her chin, her look generally saysI’m perfectly capable, thank you,with a side of,So you’d better get out of my way.But right now, her face is saying something else entirely. She’s either touched that I’m trying so hard to do things differently now,orrrrrshe feels sorry for me because my brothers are not the bachelors they used to be, and they spend their time accordingly.
Not that I blame them. If I had the option to snuggle up on the couch with a beautiful woman, I wouldn’t want to come over to drink beer with me either.
“Of course it won’t conflict with Thanksgiving,” Joni says. “We’ll make sure of it.”
“All right, I’m out,” Kenji says. The sounds of Los Angeles suddenly come through the phone, and I can imagine him pushing out of his office, tugging at the sleeves of one of his impeccably tailored suit coats. “I’ll reach out to Rita one more time and make the point about Lea's directing and see if that sways her. It can’t hurt to try, anyway,” he says.
“Thanks, man,” I say, but I don’t have a lot of confidence in Rita. I’ve met her. She’s as fame hungry as Claire.
Kenji disconnects and Joni closes down her iPad, a welcome silence filling the room.
I’m suddenly very tired. And very grouchy. And I definitely need a cookie.
I reach for one and rip off the cellophane, only to notice this one has a tiny mustache drawn above my lip, the ends long and curly.
Wait a minute.
