Authors: Lisa Girolami
Tags: #(v5.0), #Actors & Actresses, #Fiction, #Hollywood (Los Angeles; Calif.), #Lesbian, #LGBT, #Romance
“Here we go,” Rusty said. “Don’t forget to take pictures.”
In fact, Paige had been so captivated by the show, her cell phone sat forsaken in her dangling hand. She clicked some images and then flipped it to video mode. The wisp grew larger, as if it was reaching down toward something to connect with. Hail clopped down around her and a few chunks jabbed her head and hands, but the sight was so hypnotizing, she didn’t care.
It wasn’t until Rusty, raising his voice over the increasing wind, said to them, “Get back in the car,” that she stopped filming.
When they closed the doors, she realized she was out of breath—not from exertion but from the struggle to breathe in the wind and probably from the adrenaline that had rapidly peaked inside her.
“Watch,” Rusty said as a longer funnel slowly formed, hovering over the fields.
“It doesn’t look like it’s moving now,” Avalon said.
“It’s definitely moving. That funnel is descending, which means the rotation speed is increasing. It’ll be an official tornado when it touches the ground. At that point, its speed and power will escalate because it’ll feed on the warmer surface air closer to the ground then."
Rusty started the SUV and Paige knew that meant he was getting ready to retreat if the tornado decided to head toward them. Her heart pounded and the exhilaration made her feel a little tipsy.
Slowly the thin funnel began to elongate and creep toward the ground as if it were a hungry but stealthy snake approaching an unsuspecting mouse. When it finally touched ground, a silent explosion erupted, sending debris in all directions. The ensuing cloud billowed out and Paige scrambled to turn her cell’s video back on.
“That’s so incredible…” Avalon’s voice trailed off and Paige felt a hand squeezing her shoulder.
The swirling shaft undulated in the middle, as if using its momentum to gorge on more land. It twisted along the ground, gobbling up trees and fields of whatever crop was in its path. Debris flew out of the base in all directions.
“How big is that tornado?” Paige asked.
“It’s probably a category F0 or F1. I’d guess the wind speed is between sixty and a hundred miles per hour. It’s not a big one, but it can peel off roofs, knock down a detached garage, or push a car off the road. I’m glad there aren’t any structures out here because I wouldn’t want to have that twister prove it to you.”
“It’s astounding.”
They watched it for a few minutes and suddenly the funnel withdrew, rising like the agile hand of a pianist from the keys of a just-completed concerto, then vanished in a swirling poof that dissipated into nothing. The rain’s power fizzled away as well, and they watched for a few more minutes as the cloud appeared to relax and release its anger.
Suddenly, the quiet in the car was palpable. Like experiencing the pause after the last smashing cymbals of an orchestral symphony, they sat still, stunned at the environmental performance they’d just witnessed. It felt like a sacred moment, hallowed and spiritual.
Rusty’s radio hissed and Phil said, “Beautiful.” He picked up the mouthpiece and they began to communicate using some scientific jargon.
“You did it!” Avalon suddenly said. “You’re a storm chaser!”
“Wow.” Paige shook her head. “We just saw a real tornado.”
Avalon grabbed her, engulfing her in a strong hug. “My little tempting temptress of tempests!” They stared at each other for a moment and simultaneously howled their excitement in whoops and cheers so loud Rusty began to laugh.
Just outside the bungalow at the Chateau Marmont, Paige had spent the last hour shooting pictures of Avalon. They were exactly as she’d envisioned them. Avalon wore a bright yellow bikini, which brought out the blond in her hair. She lay on a dark blue chaise lounge with stunt harnesses, elbow and knee guards, a rope and pulley, and something called a Bohn Buttsaver draped around her. On the ground next to the lounge, a menacing-looking air ram sat next to a delicate blue martini.
The juxtaposition of dainty and rough elements was perfect for the cover shot of
Cut to the Chase
.
Lush and dense green foliage surrounded the pool area, masking whatever lay beyond. The muted, dark red brick hardscape created an ideal frame around the crisp, blue water. Six or seven people were lying out around the pool, and while they seemed more than interested in the photo shoot, they stayed to themselves. Tawnya and a wardrobe person were waiting inside the bungalow to freshen Avalon up, but so far, the overcast day had been ideal for staving off sweat and the need for a costume change.
“Come here,” Avalon said when Paige moved around to her other side to get more shots.
Having watched Avalon slug down a few drinks during the shoot made Paige slightly uncomfortable. Things usually went poorly when alcohol tagged along on their dates. The photo shoot was going well, but Avalon could alter a situation as quickly and unpredictably as a natural gas explosion could level a building. Paige just needed to finish the shoot, get what she needed, and then she and Avalon could go to her house, maybe, and relax.
“Not yet,” Paige said as she stepped a little further away. “I know what happened last time you said that, and I need to finish.”
“I’ll finish you.”
“I’m convinced of that, but just a few more…” Through her viewfinder, she saw Avalon’s expression change. Her smile fell away and she froze. Paige followed her line of sight. Jessica approached, with five other women trailing her. Paige recognized a couple of them from that night at the Abbey.
“Don’t mind us,” Jessica said as they passed them and deposited themselves in lounge chairs about twenty feet away.
Paige couldn’t read Avalon’s mood. Her gut knotted with nervous anticipation and she clutched her camera.
“Are we done?” Avalon said.
“Sure.”
She put her camera down and had begun to pick up the stunt equipment when Avalon quickly pulled her down onto the lounge. She landed hard, half-straddling Avalon.
“What are you doing?”
Avalon reached up to the back of Paige’s neck and drew her in for a kiss. She wrenched back but Avalon pulled even harder. The aggression shocked her. Paige felt Avalon’s other hand snake its way around her ass, dipping forcefully under her pants.
“Avalon,” she struggled to say, but Avalon held on tight. “Don’t do this.”
Avalon grabbed Paige’s hair.
“Avalon—”
“Fuck her.”
Paige pushed off Avalon and awkwardly got on her feet. “What did you say?”
“Fuck her. She needs to know I’m no longer available and to quit harassing me.”
A raucous eruption of laughter came from Jessica and her friends. Through the catcalls, Paige heard them say, “Look! A lovers’ quarrel!” and “Just enjoy the rough play, baby.” Their vicious amusement sickened her as much as Avalon’s grip on her neck.
Avalon seized Paige’s hand, saying, “Don’t make a scene, goddamnit.”
A cyclone of anger and embarrassment swirled around Paige, suddenly heating her cheeks and threatening to make her cry. With a violent lurch, she dislodged Avalon’s wrist. Avalon tried to snatch her again and Paige yanked her hand away. She thought she might choke on a gasp that lurched from her stomach. “Don’t you ever do something like that to me again.”
“What? Paige, come on. Don’t be a baby. It’s a fuck-you thing.”
She heard noise to her right and looked up to see Tawnya and the wardrobe person watching from the bungalow door. From the other side, Jessica said, “Are you getting this on your cell?”
Her arms and legs went numb and her ears began to ring. A lone sob seized in her throat and then suddenly escaped as a discomfited yelp. She grabbed her camera and ran out of the pool area and straight to her car.
*
“Are you home?”
“No.”
“Okay, no-one-there, answer the door.”
Paige sighed, fruitlessly straightening her crumpled T-shirt, and opened the door.
“You look like hell.”
“Thanks for the encouragement.” She walked away, leaving Chris to close the door and follow her to the kitchen.
“How long does one suffer from a breakup after a few dates?”
Paige frowned at her. “Are you trying to depress me even more?”
“No. I just think you should look at this in context. You haven’t been out of your place for two weeks.”
She opened a box of Cheerios and reached in. “I’m working.”
“You’re avoiding.”
She stared at the handful of cereal. Tiny little carbohydrate lifesavers, useless for any rescue attempt. She stuffed them in her mouth. “Ah, Chris, I—”
“Chew,” Chris said, folding her arms across her chest.
She swallowed. “I liked her so much. I think I was falling for her. I know I was.”
“And she hurt you.”
“I was so embarrassed. The scene at the Abbey, and then the crap at the Chateau. It was awful, Chris.”
“So, what’s the plan?”
She offered the box to Chris. “Cheerios and tears.”
Chris shook her head. “That has been the plan. We need a new one.”
She put the box down. “Get dressed?”
“I’d also shower first.”
She shrugged. “That’s all I’ve got.”
Chris pulled a folded-up paper from her pocket. “Dee Jae wanted me to get this to you. It’s a workshop she’s doing. It starts tonight.”
She unfolded the paper. Dee Jae was teaching playwriting at her theater.
“You focus on your book and then go to the workshops at night. That’ll keep your mind off things. Plus, you know I’ll be by a lot.”
“I need to change my phone number.”
“Has Avalon been calling?”
Paige nodded.
“And?”
“She’s apologized in her voice mails and says she wants me back.”
“Okay. So, what do you need?”
“I don’t need the drama. I don’t need the façade of celebrity rammed up my ass.”
“Wow.”
“I’m pissed.”
“I thought you were falling for her.”
“I was.”
“Doesn’t that mean she had some good points?”
“Yes. She did.” Avalon’s arms came to mind, how they’d wrapped so affectionately around her that first night. She really
liked
her. Their time alone together was so beautiful in so many ways, from the conversations to the lovemaking. And the trip to Oklahoma had been such a pleasant surprise and so endearing. But the black and white of Avalon’s public behavior ping-ponged in her brain. “I felt like a pawn in her nasty little game.”
"Do you really believe that?”
Paige stared at the Cheerios box, wishing the little rings were much bigger so she could keep from drowning in confusion. “I don’t know.”
“Well, you don’t need to know right now. But Dee Jae’s expecting you tonight.”
Where else did she have to go? She’d stared at her walls long enough and couldn’t rid her mind of Avalon. Nothing she had tried could jettison the memories of her from her mind, and she felt nothing but hopelessness. Like an alcoholic struggling to find solace from her demon, she was desperate to try anything.
“I’ll be there,” she said. She hugged Chris tight. “Thank you.”
*
The Ivy restaurant on Robertson was a reliable paparazzi hotspot, so it made sense that her agent would choose that establishment to bring Avalon and Garrett Chain together. According to what Billy had told her when he was last at her house, Garrett would be directing a huge production in Spain and was searching for a lead actress. Billy sat between them, referee style, but lacking the whistle and stripes.
She didn’t want to appear too anxious for the part, but being too aloof might backfire. Garrett was known as a cautious and mistrustful director, with a great disdain for drama. But she was sure the film would be a blockbuster. She also knew that it was the first of a trilogy, and the contract was not only lucrative, it was lucrative in triplicate.
“
The Last Stand
is doing very well,” Billy said over their lunch of an iceberg-wedge salad, no dressing for him, wild swordfish for Garrett, and pasta for her. “They’re on budget and schedule, and they wrap in a week.”
“And what’s the difficulty I’m hearing,” Garrett said to Avalon, “about you and Jessica Wiley?”
“No troubles at all, Garrett,” Billy quickly said.
She held her hand up to Billy. “It was contentious, yes. But things have died down. I have no desire to have that part of my life in the press.”
“One point two million hits on YouTube is hardly keeping that part of your life out of the press.”
What's with this muttonhead? Everyone gets bad press. And it sells movies, or does he think his work is above that?
“I guarantee you, it’s over and done.”
“Avalon’s doing her own stunts in
The Last Stand
.” Changing the subject might just earn Billy his 15 percent commission.
“Risky, isn’t it?” Garrett chomped loudly on his swordfish, which rankled her. How could swordfish be loud?
“Not at all,” she said before Billy could answer for her. “We have the best stunt director in the business. And my double does the more dangerous stunts.”
Garrett chewed for a while. Then he said, “I’ve seen some of the dailies. You’re good.”
“Thank you.” His chewing was bugging her less.
“How are you with love scenes?”
She lifted her glass of water and took a sip. “The same as I am with any scene. Good.”
She wished she could say that about her love life. She’d made a terrible mess of her relationship with Paige, who wasn’t answering her phone calls. Her pasta sat untouched because her stomach couldn’t handle the effort. She felt literally sick about what had happened at the Chateau Marmont pool. What the hell had she been thinking? She’d grabbed Paige because she wanted to shove the fact that it was over in Jessica’s face, but she had been too forceful and…horribly boorish.
She cringed and Garrett looked her way.
A positive outcome to this meeting was extremely important because it held the possibility of her next movie. It would cement her position in Hollywood, and the phrase
with a bullet
would actually be more like
with a rocket missile
.