Long story, p.20
Long Story, page 20
But when I was alone, my mind always went straight to Alex. My split with Rory was easy to dissociate from because it didn’t even feel totally real yet. It had all been such a blur, happened so fast. When I thought of my best friend, though, it was like drinking a cocktail of fear, rage, shame and guilt all shaken up with a glug of horror.
‘Did you text Alex on her birthday?’ David asked as he brushed out my clip-in extensions.
‘No. I was mulling it over, as you know – I didn’t want her to be able to say I forgot, another example of me being the worst friend ever. Then I remembered what an absolute bitch she was about my mom. That was such a low blow. I don’t want to give her the satisfaction of being the one to reach out first.’
‘As someone also in the Dead Mams Club, I get that. But I also don’t think Alex would have any idea how much that hurt you.’
‘She’s not a complete dope, Dave. She knew the second it left her lips.’
I was glad to be in Los Angeles, both because it put physical space between Alex and me, and because it had given my confidence a boost. When you’re an actress the wrong side of thirty-five and have been laying low, it’s very easy to think everyone has forgotten about you. This trip was a reminder that I was still hot property and that people were excited to see me.
I was having sleeping panic attacks, though. Three nights in a row after I arrived I woke up gasping for air, something that hadn’t happened since the months immediately after my mom died. I was doing daily sessions on Zoom with Samuel, practising yoga and cutting back on caffeine to try and help, but I drew the line at meditation, which I had decided was an absolute swizz – it’s basically sitting there doing absolutely nothing with better marketing, and so not my vibe. Thankfully the attacks lessened, but no matter how zen I felt when I went to sleep, I’d often be jolted awake in the wee hours, panting and frightened.
‘Sooooo …’ David was saying in the tone he uses when he’s about to start gossiping, ‘has the press out here been asking you all sorts of questions about the ex?’
‘Not really, because Giulia has put the fear of God into them.’
‘Do I hear my name being taken in vain?’
Both David and I whipped around to where the heavily accented voice was coming from, and my heart leapt at the sight of Giulia Rizzi leaning on the doorframe. She held out her arms and I ran into them, reassured by her warm hug and enveloped by her spicy signature scent. She planted a big red-lipsticked kiss on my cheek and held me at arm’s length. ‘Let me get a good look at you … hmm … bellissima! As always, carina.’
It was so great to see her. Giulia has a commanding essence; when she’s around you just feel taken care of, and that’s what makes her so good at her job. She’s not just a publicist, she’s an advocate and a protector – provided you stay on her good side.
‘Now, what were you saying about Giulia?’ she enquired, settling in on the armchair beside my makeshift glam station.
‘That you frightened all the poor journalists so they wouldn’t ask about Rory.’
‘Frighten? Me? No, no. I just tell them that if they do, it will be the last question they ever ask you.’ She winked, a devilish glint in her eyes.
‘From you, Giulia, that could either mean they’re blacklisted from interviewing Tara, or they’re gonna sleep with the fishes.’ David chortled.
‘You do mafia jokes, I do the gay jokes. It’s your choice.’ She shrugged.
David and Giulia have the most charming dynamic. They’re not blood-related but are both part of a sprawling brood with Dessie at its heart. It’s the kind of huge, messy family I always wanted as an only child, and I’d still love to be in their gang. If things with Sean didn’t work out, maybe I could marry in, I thought absent-mindedly. If I remembered correctly, David had a hot little brother …
Then I had a light-bulb moment.
‘Dave, is Portia in town?’ I asked.
‘She sure is. It’s my ugly stepsister’s first awards season!’
‘Dah-veed-ay, the Cinderella comparisons, they get tired.’
‘Shut up, Giulia. You’re just raging there’s no role for you in the fairytale.’
‘But of course there is, I am the fairy godmother!’ Giulia laughed. ‘I wave my wand and allora! Magic happens.’
David ignored her. ‘Can you believe the girls won the Golden Globe for Starting Over? Best Musical or Comedy! Pity they didn’t get the Oscar nod too, but that’s the Academy for you. Snobs! Anyway, Portia and Katie are doing the party circuit after the ceremony. I’m glamming them after you. What do you want them for?’
‘I loved Starting Over so much. Starring in their next project, now that would be a kick up the arse! I wonder if they’d let me be in their movie? That’s if there’s a role for me, of course.’
‘If there is not a part already, I’m sure Portia will write you in,’ Giulia said, and my heart leapt a little. Giulia doesn’t say things she doesn’t mean, ever.
‘Really, you think so?’
‘Do not act the eejit. You are romantic-comedy royalty – I am sure the women would be thrilled to work with you, if the timing is right. They have not cast yet, correct, Dah-veed-ay?’
David nodded. ‘They’re literally about to. I’ll hook you guys up. So wait, back to Rory – do you think you’ll get questions about him tonight?’
‘I might,’ I sighed. ‘I have a couple of lines prepared, just in case some little shit springs a surprise question on me live on air. G can’t control the red carpet, sadly.’
There was a commotion at the front door of the bungalow that signalled the arrival of both my stepdaughter and Lorraine. Storm was carrying a suitcase, no, two suitcases of make-up.
‘Storm Vaughan, do not tell me you need that many cosmetics to do my face!’ I yelped.
‘Nah, only one of these is for you; the other is for Lorraine.’ She winked, dodging a slap from my friend. ‘I’m kidding! I have three other clients to see to after you two – I’m in demand!’
And so we settled in to the fun part of big awards ceremonies – the before, when everyone is excited and the look your team has envisioned finally comes to fruition. Shanice landed with the dress, shoes, accessories, undergarments and tape and worked her magic.
The designer, Jonathan, swung by to make sure everything was to his liking, Felicia documented the entire process for socials, and then it was time to go. Lorraine was playing the role of hype woman admirably, and I really tried to get into the swing of things.
As I walked to the limousine, I felt the lack of Alex so acutely it winded me. Strange, I’d expected to miss Rory, who was normally my companion at industry events; it wasn’t like Alex would even usually be with me on a night like this.
But I knew that she would be eagerly anticipating the ceremony and getting ready to report on all the goings-on for the world’s press. Alex lived for the Oscars, for the best- and worst-dressed lists, the winners, the discourse and the glamour. If things were different, maybe she would have been here with me.
Shit, I thought. I should have brought her before! It would have been the highlight of any year for Alex. Maybe I really was a terrible friend. Selfish and self-obsessed, like she’d said.
As I settled into the car and my glam team fussed around me so I could exit at the Dolby Theater looking perfect, I felt a deep sense of unease descend. What was I even doing out here, attending the Oscars just for attention? What was I hoping to achieve – for Rory to see me and feel terrible, for Sean to see me and realize he needed to act fast?
I could claim it was all for my career, and of course it was in a way. But if I was truly happy in my life, I wouldn’t feel the need to show off. Samuel and I talked a lot about my ego and how it affected my ambition, but it had never felt so obvious until now.
My presence at the awards ceremony would likely sour Alex’s enjoyment of Hollywood’s biggest night. But then I remembered the horrible things she’d said to me about the empty, shallow business that was the movies. If it was empty and shallow, why was she so invested in it?
As the limo pulled off into the LA traffic I made a conscious decision to put all thoughts of everyone else out of my head. I would live in the moment, play my part and reap whatever I sowed. This was my job. This was what I was good at.
Lorraine was fizzing with excitement as she popped a bottle of Dom Perignon, and I decided to make an effort to get on board with her good mood. What was it Darius always said? Oh, yes. Too much thinking is bad for the complexion.
22. Alex
‘Are you sure you have to go home?’ I whined, sounding eerily like my fifteen-year-old self. It was Oscar Sunday, and I was sitting on the bed in Darius and Francisco’s spare room watching my mother pack her suitcase ahead of her evening flight back to Dublin. Normally the Academy Awards is my favourite night on the calendar, my All Ireland final, but I just couldn’t get excited.
‘Yes, love. I’ve left your dad to his own devices for far too long already. God knows what unholy state the house is in. Anyway, I have to get back to work.’
‘You’re retirement age!’ I whined. ‘You should be enjoying your golden years!’ It occurred to me that I’d always claimed not to be a spoilt only child, but I was really sounding like one. I didn’t care, though. I didn’t want my mother to leave.
‘Now, stop that, Alex. I love my job, and I’m as fit as a fiddle. I’ve been away for a fortnight! It’s time for you to get your own act together – I’ve been here mollycoddling you for too long. I have to get back home to mollycoddle your father instead.’
I pouted, silent, and saw Deirdre relent a little. ‘Love, I know it’s a really strange time for you. But you’ve always coped with difficulties by working hard, right? I know you’re waiting for the official green light from Netflix and you don’t want to count your chickens, but there are other things to be done! Have you all your Oscars coverage planned out?’
I made an indiscernible noise, but she was on to me right away.
‘Don’t even think about not working tonight, Alexandra Curtis. You need to grow up and do your job. You’re self-employed – you’re letting yourself down if you don’t! And think how sad your listeners will be if they wake up tomorrow and you’re not there analysing the big event like always? It’s the best night for “traffic”!’ – the air quotes again – ‘You always get writing commissions from the Oscars, don’t you?’
She was right, of course. Awards season is very much a huge chunk of my bread and butter as a pop-culture commentator, but how could I happily watch a show I knew Tara was going to be on? It all seemed sullied somehow, like I had seen too much of the inner workings of the showbiz world and the illusion was shattered.
Deirdre seemed to read my thoughts. ‘Doing what you love isn’t always easy, pet. But it’s already bad enough you didn’t review Sean’s book. “The streets are talking,” as they say.’
My mother had been watching too much V Network if she was picking up sayings like that, but she wasn’t wrong. My Instagram was ablaze with comments from subscribers wondering why I hadn’t covered Interview with a Rock Star. I always made it a point to talk about Irish celebs; it was part of my USP. Well, except for Tara.
If I wanted to retain my crown as queen of pop-culture podcasting, I would indeed have to swallow my pride and cover the Oscars as usual. I insisted on watching the telecast alone, though, so after a tearful goodbye with Deirdre I called an Uber back to Tara’s place just as the pre-show coverage was starting. It was a good time to pack up my stuff once and for all, while everyone else was out of town.
It had been a tricky few days, and I was feeling frustrated and a little frightened. Waiting for my work permit to come through was holding up the signing of the Netflix deal, and I was behind on podcast work and distracted in general. I was also afraid I’d outstayed my welcome with Darius and Francisco. Their place isn’t exactly as palatial as Tara’s in terms of space, and while they had been so kind letting me stay when Deirdre extended her trip, I knew I couldn’t feasibly work from there.
Maybe I could look at getting a short-term let, or even move into a cheap hotel for a week or two while I figured stuff out. I wasn’t made of money, but I could dip into my savings. If I was going to stay in the States for a while, I would have to rent out my apartment back in Dublin. It sitting empty was like setting fire to a pile of cash.
I rolled down the window of my Uber because I was suddenly feeling nauseous and needed a blast of fresh air. There was just so much to think about, so many unknown factors. I don’t do well without a concrete plan. Tara had been right when she’d said I had a cushy place to stay in the city thanks to her, and now it wasn’t an option any more I realized just how cushy it had been.
Nodding at the doorman, Simon, I was lost in my thoughts as I entered the elevator which climbed from Tara’s lobby to the penthouse.
As the lift doors opened up right into Tara’s entryway, I thought I heard someone in the apartment, probably the cleaner. I stepped out gingerly and went to call out, but before I could I collided with a man coming from the bedroom. I screamed at the top of my lungs before I realized it was Rory Vaughan.
‘What the fuck, Rory?! You frightened the shite out of me!’
‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I heard the elevator coming and didn’t know what to do so I just ran out!’
‘Jesus,’ I panted, one hand on the wall steadying myself while I caught my breath. ‘You’re too tall to be surprising people like that.’
Once the shock had abated and I realized I wasn’t in any danger, I stepped forward at the same time he did and we awkwardly hugged. He smelled of Creed, and his back felt alarmingly large and strong under my hands. ‘Rory, what are you doing here?’ I asked, still incredulous at the sight of him. ‘I mean, I know it’s half yours, but …’ I trailed off.
‘I didn’t think there would be anyone here,’ he replied. ‘I wanted to come by and get some of my things, but it appears they’ve already been moved somewhere else.’
‘Yeah, Storm did that so Tara didn’t have to see …’
‘… my belongings everywhere. Got it.’
He looked tired, but still gorgeous. Rory is the kind of man who is so dramatically good-looking he was always going to be famous in one way or another – similar to his estranged wife, I guess. He’s got this towering, athletic build and winning-smile combination that makes him so attractive, but it’s also something in the way he moves. A lack of self-consciousness, a lightness on his feet.
But in the apartment he looked strange, and I realized it was because I’d never seen him feel out of place before. He always fits in every scenario, but he was clearly deeply uncomfortable. ‘Where are the dogs?’ he asked. ‘I miss them.’
‘Francisco is looking after them. Darius has become very attached to little Seamus.’
Rory was eyeing me warily. ‘Go on, say it,’ he said, and I copped that I must have been frowning at him. ‘Tell me I’m a bastard, an idiot, an old fool for leaving Tara. I can take it.’
‘Rory, I have nothing to say to you about any of that. It’s your business. And if you’re Tara’s least favourite person in the world right now, then I am a very close second. So I haven’t got a leg to stand on.’ I sighed and flopped down on the couch.
‘What? What happened?’ he asked, genuinely perplexed. ‘You’re the love of her goddamn life! And the last I heard from Storm, you were here looking after Tara. I presumed you were in LA with her, too.’
I felt tears threatening and tried to swallow them. ‘It’s a long, horrible story. But we had a huge fight the night before she left and our friendship is over. I came over here to get my stuff as well, because I have to figure out somewhere else to stay. I can’t go back to Dublin because my passport is with a lawyer waiting for a US working visa; I’ve signed with an agent here but nothing can happen until my permit is approved and … basically, I’m in a horrible limbo with a broken heart and nowhere to live.’
‘Geez, Alex.’ Rory sat down next to me. ‘I’m so sorry to hear that. And Tara … wow, she must be devastated too.’
He saw my scowl and wisely changed the subject. ‘Hey, I’m also really happy for you about the agent! I’d heard, and I’m so glad you and Jordan worked out.’
My head snapped up. ‘Excuse me?’
‘Jordan Jones? He used to work as an assistant for my guy, but now he’s out on his own in the big leagues. He mentioned he liked your podcast a while back, and I texted him when you were in town, told him to look you up.’
‘You mean, you’re the reason he signed me?’
‘Noooo, no, Alex. That’s not how it works. He wouldn’t have even met with you if he didn’t think you were great. Besides, when I texted him he told me you were already interviewing his star client the very next day.’
I was simultaneously irritated and grateful. I had wondered how it had all happened for me so seamlessly and seemingly out of nowhere, and it made sense to hear that I had a powerful ally in the industry. I didn’t want to be in Rory Vaughan’s debt, though. I was sick of my famous friends helping me out with opportunities they could then throw back in my face.
I was also puzzled. This was yet another example of Rory being the best, always caring and supportive. It just didn’t fit with what I was being told about him, or with the fact that he was flaunting a new relationship with a much younger woman mere days after ending things with Tara.
‘Why did you start seeing Allegra, Rory? I know I said it was none of my business, but it’s so confusing and I haven’t been able to get my head around it. You have always been such a great guy, so everything that’s happened feels hugely out of character. Is it a mid-life crisis? Did it only take a few weeks around a younger woman for you to forget your great marriage?’
He barked a harsh laugh then, and it took me by surprise. ‘Is that what Tara told you? We had a great marriage? Wow.’ He laughed again, shaking his head and wringing his hands. His jaw was twitching, but his eyes were sad. ‘My wife has always been an unreliable narrator. I learned that when we started couples therapy. She doesn’t like to admit it when she’s at fault; she’ll find any way around an issue besides saying sorry.’
