Emma hearts LA (7 page)

‘I’m a bit nervous,’ Bex says, and I force myself to look at the back of her head instead. ‘It keeps coming in waves. One minute I feel really calm – like this is meant to be – and the next thing I know I think I’m going to throw up and I just want to forget the whole idea.’

‘I’m sure she’s nice, this Emily woman,’ I tell her. ‘Vivienne wouldn’t have recommended her if she wasn’t.’

‘She did say she’s nice. But how nice can you be if you’re a successful Hollywood agent? I just wish this wasn’t my first time doing this kind of thing.’

‘There’s something to be said for being thrown in at the deep end, though,’ Oscar says. ‘Also for starting at the top.’

Bex nods. ‘That’s what Vivienne says too. But I’d feel better if I knew what to expect. I’ve googled it, but it all depends on the agent, I think.’

‘I think you’ll be fantastic,’ Oscar says. ‘You’re clearly talented. You’re confident. You look adorable. I think they’ll snap you up.’

Bex giggles and preens and says, ‘Thank you, Oscar!’

That’s the kind of thing I should have said to her, I realise now, but it honestly didn’t occur to me. Oscar seems to be able to think of the right thing to say at the right time. I never think of the right thing to say until the moment’s long gone. Oscar used to be like that too – what happened?

Oscar reverses out into the road, only having to stop three times when other drivers honk at him. Finally we make it out and Oscar says, ‘Now. Which way, I wonder…’ But he’s joking.

He heads off down the main street – South Venice Boulevard, he tells us – and drives for a while along the wide, straight road while Bex talks about Cate Cooke’s TV show and tells Oscar how Emily Hennigar discovered Leanne Carr and how her career’s gone stratospheric since the sci-fi film.

I stare out of the window, feeling a bit disorientated. LA’s not at all like I expected. This street is wide, but sort of friendly looking with trees along each side and, in some places, down the middle. It’s also lined with a huge variety of buildings, from shops to office blocks, to family houses with children’s toys in the garden. Even the buses are cool – red and silver with bike racks on the front. It makes Manchester seem claustrophobic somehow. I think back to last summer in New York and it seems cramped and too busy in comparison.

Bex has moved on to asking Oscar about learning to drive. He learned here at school.

‘You start Drivers’ Ed in ninth grade here, so that’s when you’re fifteen,’ he says.

‘I’m starting eighth grade in September,’ Bex says. ‘They’re seriously going to teach me to drive in a couple of years’ time?’

‘I doubt it,’ I tell her. ‘I think they’ll make an exception for you.’

Bex turns round and sticks her tongue out at me.

‘And you,’ she says. ‘You’ll be learning to drive too.’

‘At school? But I’ll have missed Drivers’ Ed. I don’t know – learning to drive is scary enough without doing it in a foreign country.’

‘It’s not a foreign country, though,’ Bex says. ‘Not now we live here.’

I roll my eyes. It’s not like it’s permanent. If things don’t work out with Mum at the university, we could be back in Manchester in a few months. Excuse me if I don’t get too invested in being here.

After about twenty minutes, we pull onto the highway and I find myself sitting up straighter, as if my vigilance can keep this car on the road. The road is rough – like it’s being resurfaced – and Oscar’s car is vibrating and making an odd high-pitched humming sound.

‘It’s not so comfy on the highways, I’ll admit,’ Oscar says, crossing about five lanes completely casually.

Apart from the vibrating and the odd noise, it’s actually not so bad driving on the highway at all. Oscar seems completely confident which, despite the ridiculousness of the car, makes me feel confident too. And obviously Bex feels the same since she’s barely paused for breath the whole way here. Oscar gets off the highway just as easily as he got on it and then we’re on another wide tree-lined street, but the buildings are bigger and shinier and it’s clear we’re heading downtown. We drive for a while longer, and then turn right into a cleaner, more expensive-looking street.

‘This is it, Wilshire Boulevard,’ Oscar says. ‘I looked on Google Maps and I think the office is pretty near the Beverly Wilshire…’ Oscar slows down, peering out of the windscreen. ‘So it should be somewhere along here.’ He suddenly swings the car off the main road and down a side street, which I’m really surprised to see looks residential.

‘I just remembered I parked here once before,’ Oscar says, ‘when Mum came and we went to Rodeo Drive. There’s free parking if you can find a space. It’s a lot better than one of the parking lots.’

The street is actually really lovely with gorgeous houses with big gardens out in front. Oscar parks between two expensive-looking cars and says, ‘There goes the neighbourhood.’

On Wilshire, we find the building we need – it’s a rather boring-looking beige block with black windows – and wait for Mum, but by five to twelve she still hasn’t arrived and Bex is starting to panic. I’ve tried her mobile, but it’s just ringing.

‘OK,’ I tell my sister, ‘we’ll go up. Me and you. And we’ll tell her that Mum’s on her way. Better that than Emily thinking we haven’t turned up.’

Bex nods. Her eyes are really wide and I can tell she’s nervous. Obviously standing out here’s not helping.

Oscar tells us he’ll wait for us in the car and we thank him, before I push open the double glass doors to the building and usher my sister inside.

The reception area is very quiet, very cream and very empty. The only furniture is a huge marble desk with a rather snooty-looking blonde woman sitting behind it.

We announce ourselves and the receptionist adjusts her headset, presses a button on her phone and then says, ‘You can go up – third floor.’

As we walk past the receptionist to the lifts, Bex grabs my hand, squeezes and then drops it. I smile at her. I want to say something, but it’s too quiet here.

As soon as the lift doors close and I’ve pressed the button for the third floor, I say, ‘You’ll be fine. Don’t worry.’

‘I just wish Mum was here,’ she says, and then pulls a face. ‘I don’t mean I’m not glad you’re here, but Emily won’t let me audition without Mum.’

‘She’ll get here,’ I tell her.

The lift doors open and we step out onto the third floor and into some surprisingly deep carpet – it feels like I’m walking on sponge. The receptionist here is also blonde, but much less snooty. She smiles at us, at least, which is more than the downstairs one did.

‘I’m Bex Robinson?’ Bex says, surprising me. Even though her voice does the questioning thing at the end, she sounds confident.

‘Of course,’ the receptionist says. ‘Emily’s on a call right now, but she should be free soon. Would you like to take a seat?’

Bex nods and starts to turn towards the seats, but turns back again and says, ‘This is my sister, Emma. My mum is on her way, but she must have been held up…’

‘Don’t worry,’ the receptionist says. She’s still smiling. ‘She’s probably stuck in traffic.’

We sit down on one of the huge leather sofas and I check my phone in case there’s a text from Mum. There isn’t.

Bex flicks through a copy of
Variety
, while I stare at the plain white wall and try to will Mum here with the force of my mind. We’ve been sitting here for about five minutes, when the door to what I assume is Emily’s office opens and then Emily herself pops her head out and smiles at us both.

‘Bex?’ she says, brightly. She looks even younger in real life than she did online. She’s very pretty and blonde and she’s wearing a bright white shirt over a pink pencil skirt.

Bex drops the magazine on the floor and starts struggling to her feet, while simultaneously apologising for, I assume, not being poised in a state of cat-like readiness for Emily’s appearance.

‘Don’t panic,’ Emily says, smiling. She looks at me. ‘You’re not Bex’s mum!’

I smile. ‘No. I’m her sister, Emma. Mum is—’

There’s a ping from the lift and Emily says, ‘Here, I think! What excellent timing!’

We all wait to see who emerges from the lift and, thank goodness, it is Mum. She looks slightly flustered and immediately starts apologising, saying she was stuck in traffic and her phone was playing up.

‘Oh, the traffic,’ Emily says. ‘It takes some getting used to, I know that.’

I’m standing up as well by this point and the four of us all just look at each other for a moment, before Emily says, ‘Well, come in!’ and disappears back into her office. She’s still talking as she goes, apologising to Mum about dragging her away from her first day at work.

Emily’s office is huge, with three windows overlooking Wilshire Boulevard. Framed film and TV posters cover the other three walls. Emily sits down at her white desk, with its shiny silver Mac, gigantic bunch of shocking-pink flowers and neat pile of scripts, and gestures at us to sit on leather sofas that look much the same as those outside. Mum sits next to Bex and I sit on the opposite sofa.

‘I’ve just been looking at your showreel,’ Emily says, from behind her desk. ‘It’s absolutely wonderful.’

‘Thank you,’ Bex says.

‘Vivienne is wild about you. She was disappointed to lose you, I know that. But her loss is my gain!’

We all laugh politely. Emily comes out from behind her desk and perches on the sofa next to me, but she leans her elbows on her knees and looks intently at Bex.

‘So, I’ve literally just found out that the part I was going to send you out for – the reason I wanted you here at such short notice – has been cast.’ She rolls her eyes. ‘It’s gone to Debby Ryan – they’ve decided to go older. I still want to send you out to see a few people, but now that we’ve got a bit of time, I want to do some work with you here first – work on some audition pieces, make sure you know exactly what you’re doing. It helps that—’

The phone rings and Emily says, ‘Excuse me’ and heads back to her desk.

I look at my sister, who looks absolutely transfixed. I mouth ‘Are you OK?’ at her, and she nods.

‘Oh, send him in!’ Emily says.

I glance over my shoulder at her – send who in? – and then the door opens and my question is answered.

It’s Alex Hall. He’s the star of a TV show called
Stellar Highway
that hasn’t even been shown in the UK yet, but he’s all over every celebrity magazine and gossip website, thanks to rumours of flings with Cate Cooke and a pre-Bieber Selena Gomez. And then there’s an advert he did for jeans, which left very little to the imagination.

‘Alex!’ Emily says, crossing the room to the door and giving him three air kisses.

He glances over at us and smiles. I look at my sister – her mouth is hanging open. I realise mine is too and I close it.

‘I was just passing,’ Alex says. ‘So I thought I’d come and pick up the—’

‘Oh yes, of course!’ Emily says. Then she leans out of the door. ‘Genevieve? Could you gather Alex’s fan mail? Thanks, darling.’

‘Have you got five minutes?’ she asks Alex. ‘I’d love you to meet Bex Robinson.’

Alex comes over and smiles at the three of us. He’s actually even more gorgeous than he looks in photos. His dark hair is short, but with a floppy fringe that hangs in his eyes. I’ve only ever seen him clean-shaven in photos, but he’s got a bit of stubble and it suits him – along with the bridge of his nose being just a little bit crooked, it stops him looking too perfect. And he smells amazing.

Emily introduces us and he shakes our hands. His hand is warm. And soft.

‘Could you do a quick reading with Bex?’ Emily asks him. ‘I’m going to start sending her out, but I want to give her a bit of boot camp first, so reading with you would be perfect.’

Alex grins. ‘No problem.’

‘Great!’ Emily says. She’s halfway back to her desk, before she turns and says, ‘That’s OK with you, Bex?’

‘Of course,’ Bex says, and again she sounds incredibly confident. I’m so impressed.

Alex sits next to me, hitching his jeans up a bit as he does. I shuffle in my seat so I’m turned slightly towards him. Emily hands him and Bex a script each and I ask her, ‘Should I move?’

She shakes her head. ‘You’re fine where you are, sweetheart. Bex? If you just start where I’ve highlighted? Feel free to stop if you need to. No pressure.’

Bex nods and I notice she’s chewing her lip a bit so I know she’s nervous, but you wouldn’t know it when she starts to read. I don’t recognise the script at all, but it’s a pretty snappy back and forth conversation between her and Alex.

Bex pauses or stumbles a couple of times, but each time she recovers and doesn’t seem to let it bother her. Alex is totally confident and I can see why he became so famous, so fast. He’s leaning back in his seat, very relaxed, but giving a completely convincing reading. Plus his slight Southern accent is very sexy.

I’m actually disappointed when Emily stops them.

‘Well, that was fantastic,’ she says. ‘Really wonderful.’

‘You’re very good,’ Alex tells Bex.

She blushes and grins and I feel so incredibly proud of her.

‘You know what else I think would be useful, Alex?’ Emily says. ‘If Bex came down to the show and had a bit of a nosy around. She’s never been on a set before – that’s right isn’t it, sweetheart?’