Blind Item(19)

“Don’t stretch that purse,” cautioned Gaynor. “That’s a couple months of your salary, even at cost.”

Nicola shot her a look, and for once, it seemed to register to Gaynor that she may have hurt someone’s feelings.

“I’m sorry, that was, uh, insensitive. But please, be careful; I am responsible for getting all of these things back to the stylist. Speaking of which, did you bring back the shoes from last night?”

“Oh, I totally forgot,” Nicola lied. She hadn’t had any spare time to call around to find if anyone could repair the soles that she had scratched as she fled Amber’s party. “I’ll bring them in tomorrow.”

Gaynor waved her hand dismissively and lit a cigarette.

“That’s fine, that’s fine.”

Before Gaynor could ask anything else, Nicola defensively changed the subject.

“How did the meeting with Billy go?”

“It was hardly a meeting, mija. He told me the full story, and now I am armed with enough ammunition to make that old coño sweat through her Botox. I will meet with her tomorrow. You’re lucky to have a friend like Billy. He’s…” She paused and looked out the window. “He’s something you don’t find anymore.”

Nicola went to reply, but Gaynor waved her off and theatrically resumed answering e-mail on her phone. Nicola turned and looked out the window as the SUV climbed higher and higher.

* * *

When they finally crested Laurel Canyon and headed west on Mulholland, Gaynor broke her silence.

“Paul is a very nice man,” she began.

“That sounds like a warning, not a recommendation.”

“No, he is,” said Gaynor. “But he was very, very famous when he was very young. He got spoiled, and he crashed and burned, but now he is back on track, and I just want you to look as happy as you can walking into the premiere. The only time you are to speak is if someone asks who you are wearing. You are to give a one-word answer. No thank-yous, not a single other word. And then that big smile of yours, and then moving on to the next person on the press line. I will be right behind you.”

“I get it,” said Nicola, suddenly worrying about what sort of man her teenage crush might actually be. Gaynor’s words hinted at danger of some kind.

The SUV turned sharply around a corner, and the road fell away outside Nicola’s window as they drove along a sheer cliff. She gasped, and her heart was still pounding as they stopped outside a very modest mid-century house with a vintage sports car out front. This was Paul’s place? She’d expected more.

Gaynor texted Paul, and he appeared at the door almost immediately.

The late afternoon sun hit him right in the face and drenched him in golden light, and Nicola was suddenly eighteen again. He looked older, but he also looked better, almost impossibly handsome. His brown hair had been lightened with gold streaks that caught the sunlight, and his tanned face showed the barest signs of crow’s feet. He hadn’t shaved, and his stubble made his blue-gray eyes pop. His charcoal Tom Ford suit was immaculate. He walked to the car and opened the door, smiling when he saw Nicola.

“Well, hi,” he said affably. “I’m Paul.” He extended his hand.

“I’m Nicola,” she said. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Oh, please—no more formalities. From you, anyway,” he laughed, getting into the car and sitting opposite the women. “Now you,” he said sternly, pointing at Gaynor, “you’re late.”

Gaynor hadn’t even stopped checking her e-mail. She slowly looked up, and a smile wreathed her lips. It was like watching a wolf spy a duckling.

“Señor Stroud, it’s lovely to see you, too,” she purred, leaning in his general direction and giving the air a double kiss. “I’m never late. Your arrival will be perfectly timed. We will be there in time for you to do only five minutes of interviews, and we will go into the movie for ten minutes, and then I have a table booked for you two at the Little Door. It will all be perfect.”

Whaaaaaaaa? screamed Nicola’s brain as she froze her smile in place and turned to glare at Gaynor.

“Surprise.” Gaynor smiled icily back at her.

* * *

They could hear the screaming of the crowd from a block away as security guards and CHP officers directed the SUV into the line of other limousines and SUVs waiting to deposit their celebrity contents at the foot of the red carpet.

Klieg lights swept the sky, even though the sun was still doing a great job on its own, and electronic billboards along Hollywood Boulevard showed scenes from the movie. Nicola had read it was a clunky sci-fi yarn that had something to do with time travel, spies, robots, and the end of the world. At least it wasn’t zombies.