The hemsworth effect, p.37
The Hemsworth Effect, page 37
‘Well that explains why the acting’s so bad,’ Rob mumbled. ‘Anyway, Aimee, this is why I’m always telling you to read the news more. You have an iPhone. There’s no excuse not to be informed.’
Aimee raised an eyebrow at her friend. ‘You get your news exclusively from the Daily Mail and memes.’
‘And I know who Jules Lawson is.’ Rob smiled proudly.
‘So he didn’t tell you he was an actor?’ Charlie was still trying to fill in the blanks.
‘No!’ Aimee furrowed her brow. ‘He said he was a stunt double in town working on a really bad TV show on the Gold Coast.’
‘And you didn’t ask which show it was?’
Aimee exhaled. ‘I didn’t care what show it was. And we didn’t talk about that stuff. He knew I was working on a stupid TV show. I knew he was working on a stupid TV show. We both made a pact to not talk about either of our stupid TV shows.’
‘Then what did you guys talk about?’ Rob asked.
‘I don’t think they did a lot of talking,’ Charlie said out of the corner of his mouth.
‘Pretty much,’ Aimee responded to Charlie’s crass aside. ‘Jules didn’t know the details about The Brats of Byron Bay or the time-out or the store or my money problems or Byron Karen or… Freya.’ She ran her hands through her hair. ‘I didn’t have to talk about any of that. When I’d see him, I just got to be myself – away from my crappy old life. We just got to enjoy each other – without all the goddam noise.’
Rob squinted. ‘So…’ she paused before venturing forward. ‘The photos on the Daily Mail are pixelated, but, how big is it in real life compared to the prosthetic?’
Aimee shot her a look.
‘OK, not ready to talk about it.’ Rob held her hands in the air. ‘That’s OK, it’s been a big night.’
‘You kids OK?’ An older man walked over and collected the empty glasses. ‘There’s space upstairs if you wanna crash here tonight. I called the chemist under your apartment – they said there’s a TV crew still waiting for you out the front.’
‘Thanks Dusty.’ Aimee exhaled. ‘We might actually have to take you up on that.’
He placed a hand on her wrist as a sign of support and turned to walk away. Then, he hesitated. ‘Hey,’ he added, his voice strained, ‘did you really not know who Jules Lawson was?’
Aimee screwed her face up at the seventy-year-old man she’d known since she was a kid.
Dusty winced, like he’d just touched a hot fry pan with his finger. ‘I’m gonna start shifting people out and closing up – you kids stay as long as you need.’ He ended the awkward moment and shuffled off.
Aimee pulled one of the margarita glasses closer and ran a finger around the salty rim, reflecting bitterly on the situation. ‘I was sleeping with a guy for a month who lied to me about who he was. I’m such a goddam loser. It’s like one of those stories you hear about on A Current Affair where a sad old woman falls in love with a fake hot guy on the internet and then gets scammed.’
Rob rested her palms on the table. ‘As someone who has also been Dirty Johned, I sympathise. But this situation isn’t quite like that. You’re not sad or old and the hot guy isn’t fake.’
‘Even if he is someone famous.’ Aimee cringed at that last word. ‘That’s just gross. Why wouldn’t he tell me?’
Rob and Charlie looked at each other, silently deciding who would broach the subject first.
‘Jeez, I dunno, Becker,’ Charlie deadpanned.
‘Yeah, gone on any rants about the Hemsworths lately?’ Rob added.
‘Oh please.’ Aimee dismissed her friends.
Rob lightened her tone. ‘Well, you do have a lot of opinions about that stuff. And… you’re not afraid to voice them… forcefully.’
Aimee shot her a look.
‘Passionately,’ Charlie quickly corrected.
‘Passionately,’ Rob repeated. ‘That’s the word. You state your feelings very passionately. And that’s why we love you! But it could also be why a guy like Jules might’ve felt like he had to withhold some stuff so you didn’t judge him.’
‘I wouldn’t judge him!’
‘Aimee.’ Rob looked into her friend’s eyes. ‘We’re the judgiest people in town. You would’ve judged him.’
Charlie nudged Aimee and smiled. ‘He did it because he liiiiked you. It’s sweet. I’d let him Dirty John me.’
Rob gasped. ‘It’s like a reverse Maid In Manhattan. But instead of pretending to be rich, he pretended to be normal. And I think he’s the only person in the world who’s sexier than JLo.’
Aimee inhaled and looked away. ‘God, just… thinking about being in that caravan in the middle of nowhere with him.’ She shuddered at the thought. ‘Does he even really live there? Or was it all just part of the act to make it seem like he’s a humble everyday guy, travelling the world and living off nothing? God, I feel icky.’ She rubbed her arms, as if they were covered in grime. ‘That I even let him touch me – and he was basically a complete stranger, the whole time.’
‘I don’t think he was lying.’ Charlie flicked through his phone again. ‘In that article about him, they describe him as very bohemian and Matthew McConaughey-ish.’ He pointed at his screen excitedly. ‘Here! It says back in LA he lives in Paradise Cove – a trailer park in Malibu.’
‘A trailer park in Malibu?’ Rob picked up her own phone to google it. ‘Oooh… cool!’ She held up her screen and showed photos of cute shacks and vans lined up in a field overlooking the Pacific Ocean, glazed with a golden Californian tint. ‘It’s a trailer park for famous people! It says Pamela Anderson and Minnie Driver have lived there. And Matthew McConaughey!’
‘See!’ Charlie sat up straight, satisfied with his argument. ‘There you go – you bagged yourself a Matthew McConaughey.’
‘Please don’t either of you start quoting from Greenlights,’ Aimee warned.
But Rob was still distracted with online articles about Paradise Cove. ‘Hey, maybe we should start one of these here in Byron – a trailer park for famous people. Rich people are idiots – they’ll buy anything.’
Charlie jumped in. ‘Your phone has been buzzing ever since we left and I saw it’s Jules’ name on the screen – there’s a stream of notifications from him. At least read the texts he’s been sending you.’
Aimee paused. Just as she was about to give in, something across the room caught her eye. Heath was standing at the top of the steps – looking a little out of breath, as if he’d been searching for her all over town. His eyes widened a little when Aimee looked at him, and he walked over.
‘Can I talk to you?’ he asked before flicking a glance at Rob and Charlie, almost as if he was hoping they’d take it upon themselves to offer some privacy.
A waitress came over with a tray of waters and shuffled Heath out of the way to slide it on the table.
‘No.’ Aimee looked away from him and distracted herself by distributing the glasses.
Heath tucked his hands into the front pockets of his old jeans. ‘It’s important. I think it could help.’
Aimee let out a sarcastic laugh. ‘Nothing you could do would be helpful to me.’
Heath closed his eyes. ‘I know you don’t like me.’
Aimee scoffed.
Heath paused briefly and then continued. ‘I know you think I screwed you over. It’s not the whole story. Just give me one minute. And, if you really want to, when I’m finished, you can throw one of those margaritas at me. That’s something you didn’t get to tick off your reality TV bingo card – throwing a drink in someone’s face. Now’s your chance. Just one minute.’
Aimee waited a beat. ‘Those videos with Tim and Rozzie.’ She shot him a withering stare. ‘You set me up.’
‘They’re not what you think,’ Heath raced to explain. ‘Have you read my texts? Listened to my voicemails?’
‘I don’t wanna hear it.’ Aimee waved him away.
‘What I have can help you save your store,’ Heath stated firmly. His wide eyes and heavy breathing were the signs of a man placing his final bet, hoping to win back everything he’d lost.
‘Just give me one minute.’
Rob and Charlie gave each other a small look and silently agreed to move tables. They picked up their margaritas and shuffled across the room, leaving Aimee alone with Heath.
‘I’m sorry for what’s happened,’ Heath began. ‘With everything. And tonight, it’s horrible… the photos.’ He shook his head, clearly struggling to comprehend the gross situation. Then a little disappointment crept in. ‘And, with that guy.’ He exhaled. ‘I didn’t know you were seeing other people.’
‘Oh, it was one person, Heath,’ Aimee snapped. ‘And you and I weren’t seeing each other.’
The comment made Heath pull back a little, like a dog swatted on the snout by a cat. Aimee felt a pang of guilt in her gut. Had they been seeing each other? Every morning she woke up, she’d been wishing her sheets still smelt like cigarettes and Joop.
Heath relented and moved quickly to get his point back on track before Aimee walked away. ‘I need you to know those videos of Tim and Rozzie weren’t how they looked.’ He pulled out his phone and started scrolling through emails. ‘I didn’t tell any of the producers to do that. One of the juniors told me Nina got her to pursue the storyline after she found out about the situation between you, Tim and Bree. It was just Nina being Nina. I was CC’d on the end-of-day email with the rough clips when it came through the night you stayed over.’ He showed her the email chain on his phone. ‘I saw it in the morning when I woke up and I went straight to the office to stop it. I’d left without taking the computer and that’s when you found it. Those interviews, that storyline – it wasn’t me. And it’s not appearing on the show.’
Aimee zoned out. What Heath was saying was believable enough – she knew he might’ve even been telling the truth. But she wasn’t letting herself go there again. She’d opened herself up for enough hurt and embarrassment that summer. She looked around the bar and tried to not engage with his attempts at begging for forgiveness. Then her eyes landed on something unexpected. That fucking fedora. It was like that stupid hat was haunting her. Dusty had shuffled out the stragglers for the night and Tim was one of the only other people left in the bar. Had he been there the whole time? He was by himself and Aimee could tell he was drunk. This had been their favourite bar – but the sight of him that night made her realise they probably hadn’t been there together in close to a year.
‘And,’ Heath continued, reaching into his shirt pocket and pulling out a folded up slip of paper, ‘I don’t know if this helps. But…’ He unfolded it and slid it across the table.
Aimee took her eyes off her ex-fiance and looked down to see a cheque, for $15,000. The amount was written in Heath’s scrawl.
‘No conditions, you don’t have to appear on the show. And you don’t have to take it but if it helps you find a new place or store it’s there.’
Aimee was stunned. She looked up at Heath’s eyes and recognised the softness she saw when he’d talk about Sadie – and how he’d do anything to get her presents to Sydney before she woke up on Christmas Day.
Before Aimee could respond, Tim started to stalk over, in his jeans and rubber thongs. Slap, slap, slap. ‘Aimee…’ He laughed to himself.
She glanced over, then looked back at Heath and shook her head quickly, trying to decide who to deal with first.
‘How come we never fucked on the beach?’ Tim slurred.
‘Jesus.’ She closed her eyes.
Heath stood up. ‘Tim—’
‘Aimee. I’m sorry. I just…’ Tim stopped mid-sentence, clearly too drunk to remember what he was going to say.
‘Why aren’t you still at the festival with Bree?’ Aimee shot back, already fed-up with the surprise appearance.
Heath held out an arm towards Tim. ‘Mate—’
Tim raised his voice and stumbled backwards. ‘I still wanna marry you!’
Aimee’s jaw almost crashed onto the hardwood floors. Within an instant, Rob’s boots were banging over as she ran to her friend’s side with Charlie. Aimee stood in silence as she watched her ex-fiancé sniff and wipe his nose with the back of his finger, while still swaying a little on his feet.
Then he let out an almost menacing laugh. ‘Hey!’ He looked across the room. ‘Aimee’s average-dick boyfriend is here!’
Aimee whipped around and saw Jules standing at the top of the stairs. As he started to walk over, Tim scrunched up his face, like he was about to spit insults. Aimee could feel Heath move his body behind her, ready to step in if things got messy. Aimee wondered how, after trying so hard to keep all three men in her life hidden, they’d somehow started springing up uncontrollably, like Whack-A-Moles. Heath put a hand on her lower back but she pulled away from it and stood closer to her friends. Just as Jules got near enough to reach out and touch her, Tim stepped forward and hooked his right arm back to gather some momentum in a swing. But before he could follow through, the tension was broken by two men in jeans and business shirts who walked with purpose towards the group. Then those two men pulled out their badges.
‘Aimee Maguire, Roberta Valentine, Charlie Tatler,’ one of the men said, clear and swift. ‘I’m Agent Harvey, that’s Agent Jackson – we’re with the Australian Federal Police. You’re under arrest for conspiracy to supply prohibited drugs. You’re not obliged to say anything unless you wish to do so – but whatever you say or do may later be used against you. Do you understand that?’
FIFTY-ONE
‘Remember the last time I was in here?’
The question came from Rob. Out of the three friends, she was the only one who’d been held overnight at the local police station. No one remembered the exact details, but the incident involved tequila and Music Club.
Aimee wasn’t in the mood for jovial memories. She kept thinking about the way Jules looked at her as the police arrested them.
‘How did he even know where we were?’ Aimee said aloud. ‘Jules,’ she added, shaking her head at the involuntary outburst.
‘Well,’ Charlie said, his face contorting into a pained expression. ‘When Heath showed up and we moved tables to let you chat… I may have taken your phone and texted him where we were.’ Just as Aimee shot him a look, he rushed to defend himself. ‘I think you’ve got it wrong! Ever since you told me that night at Music Club that you’d been hooking up with someone, I’d noticed a change in you.’
Aimee fobbed off the observation as if it was crazy. ‘There was no change.’ She made a face like she’d just tasted expired yoghurt.
‘Even with all the other stuff going wrong, there’s a spark you’ve had back.’
‘It’s true.’ Rob nodded. ‘I think you gotta give him a chance.’
‘Yes, he lied,’ Charlie said. ‘But it’s not that bad. And you lied to him, too.’
The truth always hurt more coming from Charlie. Aimee thought of Jules’ dark, sunken eyes – and cheeks pinched tight around his nose – as she was escorted out of the pub by the police. A look of clear disgust. Had she looked at him the same way earlier in the night when she found out who he really was? He might’ve lied about being famous, but she’d lied about something much worse. Little less glam, little more scam. Her body ached with the need to find Jules immediately so she could apologise and explain. The snow globe had smashed, and now maybe they could live in the real world.
But first, she needed to get out of the cell she was standing in. How did the police know? And what did they know? The two plainclothes cops didn’t give much away at the pub but they were adamant that no one make a scene and draw attention. ‘We have an unmarked car waiting in the back carpark. We will allow you to walk to the vehicle un-cuffed where you will be driven to the police station for further questioning.’ Their voices were calm but assertive. No facial expressions. One thing was clear: Do as you’re told.
‘Why haven’t they questioned us? It feels like it’s been a few hours. They’re gonna interrogate us at some point,’ Charlie said before turning to the girls. ‘Do we all have our story straight?’
‘What do you mean, do we have our story straight?’ Aimee tried to keep the volume low on her irritated whisper. ‘What story?’
‘Do you think they found out about Operation Burrito?’ Rob muttered.
‘How?’ Aimee replied. ‘We didn’t actually go through with it.’
‘Did any of us tell other people about the plan?’ Charlie suggested. ‘People who might’ve told other people.’
Without missing a beat, Aimee turned to Rob. ‘Bada Bing,’ she stated firmly.
Rob dismissed her friend’s claim. ‘Bada Bing would never dob on us. He might like trolling people, but he’d never throw someone under the bus. He hates the cops.’
‘Maybe it’s the naked beach photos.’ Charlie shrugged.
‘What?’ Aimee’s voice went high-pitched.
‘I dunno – is it illegal to be naked on a beach doing… whatever it was you two were doing?’
‘I struggle to believe my naked body landed all of us in prison,’ Aimee said with bite. ‘Besides, they arrested us on the suspicion of drugs. That’s what they said, didn’t they? Suspicion? Or… conspiracy? Jesus, I can’t remember. Just… Leave my naked body out of this.’
‘I was just trying to think of reasons,’ Charlie argued.
‘Suspicion,’ Rob said excitedly. ‘Suspicion of drugs. That’s a good sign, isn’t it? That it’s just a suspicion?’ Then her face dropped and she turned to Aimee. ‘Wait, do you think it has something to do with the cassettes at the market?’
‘What if it involves Freya?’ Aimee panicked. Paranoia was starting to set in. ‘Are we being recorded in here?’ She looked up at the grey ceiling.
Charlie peered out of the holding cell and down the short hall, into the main office area. ‘Hey, don’t you know him?’
Aimee stopped inspecting the room for imaginary listening devices. ‘Who?’ She walked up behind Charlie and peered over his shoulder.
