“Cut!” The hairy director called from his chair and gave Claire a harsh smile before she hurried off of the stage, her head in her hands. Her head was throbbing from the lights on stage, which she seemed to be unusually sensitive to. She piled her long brown hair on the top of her head and made way to her dressing room.
“Is there anything I can get you, Miss Declore?” A petite blonde trailed behind Claire, a notebook and pen in tow. Claire had been introduced to her first thing when arriving at the studio. Michelle, the over-zealous, clumsy ditz who couldn’t get Claire’s coffee right to save her life. This was her new assistant.
“No,” Claire said quickly, not turning back to her.
“Coffee? Anything?” She asked, stumbling into a cameraman trying to keep up with Claire.
“You know what?” Claire stopped, causing the girl to almost trip to stop from running into her. “Yes, can you run to my dressing room and fetch my purse for me?” She asked her, avoiding her wide brown eyes.
“Oh, yes ma’am,” Michelle smiled, hurrying down the wide hallway.
“This is what I get?” Claire ranted quietly. “I ask her competence and this is what I get!”
“Darling,” Tony Rowling’s voice boomed behind her as he grabbed her waist and pulled her in for a hug. “That’s why I am here, remember? You were fabulous tonight. . .” He winked at her. “Is that my top you are wearing?”
“Yes. . .this lovely top is yours,” Claire smiled despite her headache. Tony had been the wardrobe manager for Elite magazine for almost 5 years until he came out with his own clothing line that was being made famous by stars like her. He was careful to make it known when he saw someone of her caliber wearing any of his designs.
“Guess who wants to have lunch with you tomorrow evening, my dear?” Tony asked her, a wide grin on his face.
“I . . don’t know,” Claire raised her eyebrows.
“Michael Stevens,” He squealed. “He contacted me via my manager today and asked how he could get in contact with you to ask you to dinner tomorrow night,” He grabbed her hands. “I told him I would tell you personally.”
“Michael?” Claire asked, quite disappointed. “I don’t think I can make it. I will see him on set next month anyway . Why dinner?”
“My dear, it is very important to have chemistry with the man you will be doing a love scene with,” Tony reminded her, “Besides that, he wants to get to know you. Michael is the ‘it’ man in Hollywood right now, why not dinner?”
“I don’t know, Tony,” Claire shrugged sarcastically. “Maybe because I’m gay,” She called out.
Tony laughed, “Suit yourself, next time I’ll give him your number.” He winked.
“Miss Declore?” Michelle was back with her Doone and Burke and handbag and a large glass vase with a dozen white roses inside, “These were waiting for you. No one saw who left them though. . .odd.”
“I bet I know,” Tony winked, turning his attention to another actress in the studio. He scurried off before Claire could bid him goodnight.
“Anything else?” Michelle asked her, handing over the purse and flowers and pulling out her ink pen and pad.
“Nothing else,” Claire shooed her away, searching for a note in the bouquet. When she found it, she struggled to open it, almost dropping the heavy vase on the floor before regaining composure.
Hope to see you soon.
The ride home was the studio was long and drawn out with Claire’s new driver constantly turning down the music to ask her questions about her up and coming movie deal which she was under a strict contract not to discuss. She was relieved when the car stopped in front of her 4 story mansion on the other side of town. She stepped out and hurried into her house, taking in the nostalgia of loneliness before drifting over to her answering machine and checking her messages.
Claire. . .This is Kor, just calling to check up on yah. . .make sure you made it home safely. I have a proposition for you. Just a small favor between friends. Call me back in the morning. Love you. Claire drifted up her stairs, too tired to listen to the rest of the messages on her machine. She needed a hot soak in the tub and a tall glass of wine to finish up her evening. She drifted into her master bedroom that was decorated in mahogany browns and eggshell white. After fishing a bottle of the finest wine out of her closet, her eyes were caught on a picture on her tall dresser.
Claire drifted up her stairs, too tired to listen to the rest of the messages on her machine. She needed a hot soak in the tub and a tall glass of wine to finish up her evening. She drifted into her master bedroom that was decorated in mahogany browns and eggshell white. After fishing a bottle of the finest wine out of her closet, her eyes were caught on a picture on her tall dresser. The woman’s smile was priceless, her eyes absolutely divine. They seem to soar through her and scowl her through the glass separating the picture and her. Foolish, they seemed to scream at her. For a moment she could feel her old lover’s arms around her, her lips lightly moving across her neck.
Claire shook those distant memories away as she began to remove her clothing on the way to her Jacuzzi bathtub. “What do you give a woman who has it all?” She remembered her voice so clearly. Remembered how the question went unanswered, left to linger in the air of misinterpretation.
“You,” Claire sighed now, turning on the water.
