Breaking Hollywood (20 page)

And that wasn’t a position that Mirren was going to tolerate. Not now.

‘Hello?’ she said calmly, hoping to hear Brad’s low, assured voice answer.

‘Hi, Mirren. It’s Perry.’

Mirren tried to disguise her disappointment as she heard her lawyer’s greeting. ‘Hi, Perry. How are you?’

‘I have a massive pain in my ass,’ Perry answered truthfully. ‘Permission to speak frankly?’

‘Granted.’ Mirren wondered when Perry had ever done otherwise. It was all part of her steel-balled charm.

‘Listen, I just wanted to give you an update. Pictor are still refusing to budge, and their new lawyer is an arrogant prick.’

‘They’re not moving at all?’

‘Nope. I think we need to sit down with Mark Bock and fire some shots. And on the other side of the fence, Wes Lomax practically had an orgasm when I called him. I’ve sent the
meeting date over to you.’

‘OK, leave it with me. I’d like to see if we can resolve this on good terms, with as little fallout as possible. I’ll get back to you. And thanks, Perry.’

‘No problem. Wish I had better news.’

So did Mirren. Sighing, she hung up. This was the last thing she needed right now, but hey, at least it was a distraction.

A glutton for punishment, she pulled up the document she’d been working on. The next Clansman was already in the can. It had been a tough three-month shoot, beginning only a couple of
weeks after Chloe had passed away, but she’d welcomed the escape. Now, they were in the editing stage, and the launch date was set for six months ahead, which meant entirely different
departments of her company were ramping up the activity. Marketing were finalizing strategies and timescales. Distribution were making plans. International rights were working on contracts. Finance
were fretting over budgets, and there were lots of those guys. Sometimes it seemed like talentless bean counters were running the business now.

Mirren was overseeing every department, checking, double-checking, moving things along. Not that she didn’t trust her team. Like Perry, most of them had been with her since the start, and
they were all, in her opinion, the best in their fields.

Mirren was so engrossed in the spreadsheet in front of her that the knock on the office door made her jump.

Lex Callaghan popped his head inside. ‘Hey, just thought I’d come say hello.’

Mirren’s smile was instant and genuine. ‘Come on in.’

‘I’m not interrupting anything?’

‘Nope, you’re not.’

‘Great, because I brought beer.’ He swept his hand, carrying two bottles of Bud, in front of him to prove the point.

‘You know that office rules strictly prohibit drinking on the premises?’ she said, as she took one and screwed off the top.

‘Absolutely. I’m hoping you’ll fire me and I can go live a life of obscurity in the mountains.’

One of the many attractions of Lex Callaghan was that there was a good chance he meant that. There were very few stars who sauntered to the beat of Lex’s drum. Ten years ago, she’d
been casting the first Clansman movie and coming up blank day after day. The Clansman had been her creation, a sixteenth-century Scotsman who lived and would die for his land, his family and his
honour. He was rough, and he could be brutal, but he had an inherent strength that inspired both loyalty and love. In hindsight, she could see that he was her fairy tale. The man she created to
encompass everything she had ever wanted. Millions of readers felt the same connection.

Casting had proven to be a nightmare. Actor after actor tried out for the part, but none of them was right. No, the Clansman’s nails were not buffed. He didn’t do yoga. Or take
steroids to pump his pecs. He didn’t live in the Hollywood Hills or drive a Lamborghini. Yet every man who tried out for the part made her think of one or more of those things.

Until Lex walked in.

There was dirt under his fingernails because a horse on his ranch had broken loose that morning. He wore jeans that had never seen an iron or the inside of a designer boutique. His jet-black
hair fell over the searing blue of his eyes; his shoulders were so broad Mirren knew instantly he could carry the weight of the world. He could swim across frozen lochs, scale mountains and run
through valleys. This guy was a warrior. Authentic, hard, with a soul that scorned anything fake or superficial.

And best of all, his Scottish grandmother had taught him how to adopt a Highland burr that could make the hairs on the back of Mirren’s neck stand on end. He was the Clansman.

He could also have been a Bond. She’d heard the rumours that the Bond team were after him at the same time. He’d passed the stringent background checks they inflicted on their 007s,
succeeding where a famous Aussie action man, an English West End star and Zander Leith had failed.

For Mirren, their connection had been instant. Lex shunned the celebrity circuit, hated anything that involved a tie and just wanted to do a good job, then go home to his wife, who was, quite
literally, back on the ranch.

A couple of hours away on a Santa Barbara plain, Cara ran an equine therapy centre for addicts, using the land and nature to break the cycle of drug and alcohol abuse, and heal the hurt that
made so many users pick up a bottle or a needle. Mirren had even sent Chloe there, but she wasn’t ready. She’d spent one night in the stables and then called her dealer to come collect
her. Too much money, too many demons, not enough sense to see it would kill her.

Lex sat down on the leather sofa under the window in her office. A low, one-storey building, it was tucked away in the corner of the Pictor lot, right next to a park setting that had been used
in a dozen movies.

‘Just thought I’d see how you were doing,’ Lex said, straight to the point, as ever. He had absolutely no time for small talk or the inane niceties that came with the
business.

‘I’m OK.’

He looked at her sceptically as she got up and joined him on the sofa.

‘No, really, I am. Some days are crap; some days are good. Today is OK.’

She gestured to the piles of paperwork on her desk. ‘It helps that we’re just about to kick off again and I’m drowning in work. If I ever disappear, I’ll have suffocated
behind that lot.’

‘I’ll come rescue you,’ he said, his square jaw widening into a smile.

‘Excellent. Bring beer that time too.’

There was a comfortable pause for a few seconds. ‘Cara was asking if you wanted to come up to the ranch for a few days. You know she’d love to have you there.’

‘I know. Thank you. Maybe I’ll take you up on that.’

Even as she was saying it, Mirren wasn’t sure that she would. The peace. The solitude. The calm. Those were all the things that let her mind go back, to think about Chloe. If she kept
busy, then she couldn’t hear her heart weep.

‘I’m starting pre-production now, though, so it might not be for a while. Tell her I say thanks. I do love your wife.’

‘That would be two of us, then,’ Lex agreed, without a hint of macho embarrassment. The thought entered Mirren’s mind that although he’d never dream of endorsing an
aftershave or fragrance line, if he ever did, it would simply be called ‘True Man’.

‘What’s funny?’ he asked, spotting her smile.

‘Nothing. Sorry. Was just thinking about how nice that would be to come up and chill out for a couple of days.’

‘Anytime,’ he offered again.

‘Thanks. So were you in for the meeting with the marketing guys today?’

‘Yep. And you know how much I like those. Congrats on the Oscar nominations. You deserve it.’

Mirren had barely thought about it since she got the news back in January. Three nominations. Best Director. Best Movie. Best Original Screenplay. That was the same category that had given her
the first Oscar when she originally came to LA and winning it twice would be a real achievement. Yet somehow, something that should be the height of her professional career had been covered by a
curtain of sadness and the realization that gold statues and acclaim meant absolutely nothing compared to real life. Perhaps she’d feel differently next month, when the ceremony came around,
but for now, it wasn’t even making its way onto her radar.

‘Thanks. I’m thinking it was a sympathy vote.’

‘No, ma’am. I’m thinking it was the star performance by yours truly that took the movie to stellar heights.’

They were both laughing now. ‘Yep, that must have been it,’ she agreed. ‘Your talent is carrying us all.’

‘Now that’s a line I should’ve given the marketing guys. “My talent carries us all.” Maybe that would get me out of the
At Home
special they’re
trying to make me agree to next month.’

This was so typical of Lex. Other stars would love the exposure; he hated it. Other stars begged for column inches; he begged for a quiet life. Not that she was letting him off the hook. This
was a business, and while she respected his wishes, they had a movie to sell.

Feigning gravity, she shook her head wearily. ‘Lex, sometimes you’ve got to take one for the team.’

‘Yes, ma’am, you sure do. Remind me of that when they’re making me pose like a dickhead.’

‘I will indeed.’

He stood up and tossed his empty beer bottle into the trash. It went in first time. ‘Anyway, I’d better hit the road.’

Standing, Mirren hugged him. ‘Thanks, Lex. For the beer and the chat.’

‘No problem.’

Before he could bail, the door opened again, bringing another of her favourite men into her day.

‘Hey, what’s this? Is this the kinda stuff that goes on in here?’ Logan had one eyebrow raised in question, hands on hips, acting out mock outrage, which he couldn’t hold
for long because Lex was hugging him now, thumping him on the back.

‘Logan. Good to see you, bud. All good?’

Logan coughed under the crushing enthusiasm of the embrace. ‘Apart from the fact that I now need a new spine, all’s great. Good to see you too. Been a while.’

He turned to Mirren. ‘So, do I pass inspection?’ he asked, gesturing to his clothes.

Mirren did a top-to-toe evaluation. Denim-coloured T-shirt, blue jeans, Onitsuka Tiger trainers, his short blond hair cut over his ears, longer on the top to give him a killer 1940s movie-star
look.

Mirren had never been more grateful that his fame postdated the days of grunge.

She reached down behind her desk and pulled up her purse, then grabbed her black tailored jacket from the coat stand. ‘You look great.’

‘You two off somewhere cool?’ Lex asked.

‘Dinner with Mark Bock and his daughter. Apparently, she’s a fan of South City.’

‘Yep, my mother is pimping me out.’

‘Hey!’ Mirren punched his arm playfully. ‘I am not pimping you out. I’m just . . . being friendly.’

‘Yeah, like a python just before it bites.’ Lex nodded.

‘You two are ganging up on me. Logan, get in the car before I ground you.’

The three of them headed out, still laughing. God, it felt so . . . normal. And that wasn’t something she’d felt for a long, long time.

As soon as the thought crossed her mind, a wave of guilt followed right behind it. How could she even start to feel normal in a world in which Chloe didn’t live?

Pleasure. Pain. Pleasure. Pain.

Enough. Without either man noticing, she pulled up her shoulders and forced her mood back onto the happy scale. She had to. Logan needed a mother who was strong enough to show him how to move on
from sadness and devastation. She’d spent her entire childhood at the mercy of her mother’s emotions and she’d be damned if her children – no,
child
– would
do the same. She owed him this. And that meant returning to the old Mirren who could laugh and joke and let happiness into their lives.

At the car park, she hugged Lex again and then slid into the front of her Mercedes and waited for Logan to climb in beside her.

‘Thank for doing this,’ she told him, while scrunching up his perfect hair. ‘And I’m not pimping you out. I’m merely consolidating a business relationship while
making one of your fans very happy.’

Logan leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.

‘OK, Mama, let’s go. But if this guy’s a douche, we’re bailing after half an hour. Deal?’

‘Deal.’

‘Stay With Me’ – Sam Smith

Zander

When he woke, Zander had absolutely no idea what time it was. He thought about switching on his phone to check, but he knew he’d be bombarded with messages, most of them
from Hollie, all of them furious, so he got up and staggered to the bathroom to find his watch instead.

Four p.m. He groaned inside. Four p.m. meant he’d been in London for sixteen hours and it meant that it was only three hours until they had to be at the airport to fly back to the US.

He stepped into the shower and let the jets of water pound his body. Man, Adrianna was a tougher workout than any amount of stunt training. Not that he was complaining. It may have been sixteen
hours, but it ranked up there with the best.

In ten hours on the gulfstream, they’d only been clothed for take-off and landing. For the rest of the journey, they’d locked themselves in the bedroom, a room so opulent it belonged
in one of the Leading Hotels of the World. Crisp white Pratesi sheets, marble side tables and a bathroom carved from walnut with gold-plated hardware. Not that Zander cared. Overblown luxury was
nice, but it had never been his thing.

When they’d landed at Luton, a car had been waiting to take them to the Mandarin Oriental Hyde Park in Knightsbridge. The hotel was the ultimate in discretion. They didn’t pull up at
the front door, risking stray pap shots or overzealous tourists with camera phones. Instead, Sarah Cairns, the head of communications, greeted their limo as it arrived and whisked them through the
entrance of One Hyde Park – The Residences. The iconic tower block adjoined the hotel, cost £1.15 billion to build and contained flats that sold for upwards of £20 million.

The building was connected to the main hotel by an underground tunnel, allowing them to enter via the new spa and swimming pool.

Adrianna had already made the booking, but Zander called ahead and upgraded them to a suite.