I needed convincing. I’d never stayed in a hotel that nice, and the thought of sleeping in a big bed and getting to use trial-size shampoos, that sounded fun. So I said okay, and Lars jumped up to take care of things.
“Joshua is going through a difficult period,” Judy said, quietly, once Lars was out of earshot.
I nodded like I knew what she was talking about. All I knew was that he was getting more and more famous, and getting to star in a bunch of different movies, and getting to date models like Elise. I wasn’t a guy and I didn’t live in Los Angeles, but it didn’t sound all that difficult.
“He’s…he’s adjusting to a new level of celebrity, and that’s hard,” she said.
“How long has it been difficult?” I asked.
Judy thought a moment, then shook her head. “Pretty much since I’ve known him, I guess.” She smiled but looked sad at the same time.
“That can’t be fun. For you, I mean,” I said.
“It’s not. A lot of the time. But he’s an excellent actor. He really is. He’s more talented than any of my other clients. And when I see him work,” Judy said, “it’s almost worth it. For Lars, it’s different. He doesn’t really like actors, so he’s got a lot less patience.”
“Was he serious about dropping Joshua?” I asked.
Judy seemed to think about it. “He might have been. Something to sleep on, anyhow.”
Lars returned then, with a room key for me. He gave me a brief tour on the way to the lobby. There was a bar that stayed open late, to the left of the restaurant. There was a smaller dining room, where the breakfast buffet would be served.
“What time do you usually wake up?” Lars asked. “For breakfast.”
“I’m usually up around six,” I told him.
“Yow,” Lars said.
Judy laughed. “You’re quite the morning person, but that’s a little early for us,” she said. “Especially since that’s three in the morning California time. How about around eight we meet down here?”
We were standing in the lobby. My room was down the hallway, theirs was upstairs.
“Eight’s fine, too,” I told them.
My room was small, but so neat, and the blankets were turned down and there was a chocolate coin on the pillow. I checked the bathroom, and there was a little bottle of shampoo and another of conditioner and also lotion and two kinds of soap, and a shower cap and a sewing kit. I put everything in my purse right away, then put the shampoo back, since I would need it for the shower in the morning.
I called home so that Momma knew where I was. And then I called Sandy at the beach.
“You’ll never guess where I am,” I told her.
“In Joshua Reed’s bedroom?” she guessed, whispering.
“No. But I am in the same hotel, and I’m staying here. In my own room. For the night.”
“So?” Sandy asked.
I told her all of it, and she was a lot more pissed than I was.
“What a butthole,” she said, when I finished.
“Yeah, I guess,” I said.
“I’m sorry, Leanne,” Sandy said.
“No, I’m really okay about it,” I told her.
“It still shouldn’t have happened. That was a butthole thing to do.”
I agreed.
After I got off the phone, I was still wide awake and figured I might as well poke around the resort, in case a maid had left her cart out, and I could get more shampoos to bring home for Beau Ray. I didn’t find a cart, but I wandered through the various lobbies and waiting rooms until I found myself by the door of the bar. The bartender looked up from wiping the counter and waved me inside.
“Hey, have a seat,” he said. “You were eating with that movie guy earlier, weren’t you?”
“Joshua Reed,” I said, nodding. “Yeah. I hope the yelling didn’t disturb you.”
He just shrugged, as if one man calling another man an asshole across a nice restaurant was something that happened every weekend.
“What’s he like?” the bartender asked, and then he looked past me and said, “speak of the devil, I guess I’ll find out.”
I turned on my stool and saw Joshua Reed swagger into the bar. He looked over at me, frowned, and then walked up and took the stool next to mine. I got the impression that he had kept drinking between dinner and just then. He ordered a martini and turned to me.
“Leanne Gitlin,” he said.
I turned to him, trying my hardest to look like I didn’t care, or like I’d sat next to lots of movie stars in lots of bars before that particular night.
“I hope you’re not angry with me.” He smiled. I’d seen that same smile on Colin Ashcroft.
“Why should I be angry?” I said.
“Exactly,” he said. “You get it.”
“Sure, I get it,” I told him, even though I had no idea what he was talking about.
“You don’t know what it’s like,” he went on. “All these people putting demands on me, expecting me to do this, do that. I just want to live my own life. You understand that, don’t you?”
“Sure,” I said again. I was afraid that I was starting to sound stupid even though I did know a fair bit about demands and expectations.
He took a sip of his drink and turned and looked straight at me. “Why the fuck do you do it?” he asked, and even though I’d heard him swear at dinner, it still made me flinch. It was hard to get used to him as someone who swore so casually. He never swore in the interviews I’d read.
“What do you mean? Do what?” I asked.
“Because you seem smart enough. I figured you for the usual ditzy fan, but you seem smart, so why do it? The fan club bullshit.”
“Oh. That.” I was glad to figure out what he was talking about. “I don’t know,” I said. “It’s different. It’s something different.” I’m not sure he heard me, because he started in again while I was still talking.
“You fans sort of freak me out,” he said. “It’s like some weird fantasy. I don’t understand you people.”
“I guess I do it more for Judy than I do it for you,” I told him.
Joshua looked over like he wasn’t sure whether or not to believe me.
“Really? Yeah,
