Mine(10)
I liked it so much, I had collected seventy-two of them.
Sara
The man shut the privacy window between us and the driver. He pulled out the drugstore bag and gave it to me. Blue contact lenses.
“Put these in,” he said. I did as he asked. My heart raced. One thousand dollars? I blinked, the eye drops running down my cheeks. The windows were tinted. Was this a sex thing? I didn’t know if I could handle it if Roger had accidentally set me up with somebody who wanted to hire a prostitute.
“Fix your makeup,” the man said, handing me a mirror. “And put all of your belongings in this bag.”
“Okay, but could you tell me please what’s going on here?” I asked. The car pulled away from the curb and began to drive down Van Ness Avenue.
“I’m sorry for all the secrecy,” the man said. “My name is Gary Steadhill.”
“I’m Sara Everett,” I said, holding my hand out for a handshake. He didn’t take it.
“No,” he said. “Today you’re not Sara.”
“I’m not?”
“Today you’re Mrs. Susan Steadhill.”
I blinked hard. The man was looking at me cautiously, waiting to see what I would say.
“So, is this some kind of sexual role play?” I asked. “Because I was told—”
“No, no, nothing like that,” the man said.
“Then what?”
The man leaned back in his seat and exhaled.
“You’ve heard of my name before?”
“Gary Steadhill? Sorry, no. Are you with Paramount?”
“I’m a businessman.”
“Oh. Oh.” The name flashed through my mind, this time in large bolded caps. “Steadhill Tech. That’s your company?”
“That’s right.” He smirked proudly. “See, you have heard my name.”
“So are you getting into the movie business?”
“No. That’s not what this is. Here is the—ah—the contract,” he said, pulling out a sheet of paper. “Before I say anything more, I’d like you to agree to the terms of secrecy. You can’t let anybody know about this role.”
Gary took out his wallet and began counting out crisp hundred dollar bills. I skimmed the contract and signed my name at the bottom.
“Okay,” I said, eyeing the cash. “Now what?”
“Here. This is half of the money up front. You’ll get the rest at the end of today.”
My eyes nearly bugged out of my head at how casually he flicked five hundred dollars toward me.
“Great,” I said, stuffing the money into the bag with all my stuff. “What next?”
“Next, I need you to pretend to be my wife.”
“Susan Steadhill. Right. Why, exactly?”
Gary coughed into his hand and looked out of the tinted window.
“It’s a long story,” he said. “Remember, you’re bound to secrecy.”
“Cross my heart and hope to die,” I said, a finger over my lips.
“My wife and I were… are very public personages. We co-own the business. And recently we’ve been fighting. Naturally, I can’t let the details of our relationship leak to the public.”
“Naturally.”
“I’m supposed to have a bit of plastic surgery today,” he said, shifting uneasily in his chair.
“Surgery?”
“It isn’t anything big, I’m getting some moles removed and a bit of a facelift. Susan is supposed to be there, you understand, for liability. She’s my medical trustee. And since they’re putting me under general anesthesia, she has to be there in case anything goes wrong.”
“And your wife can’t be there because…?”
“We’re not—ah—currently speaking to each other,” Gary said, his skin flushing a bit red at his shirt collar.
“You’re fighting.”
“In a manner of speaking.”
“What about?” I wanted to know exactly what it took to make Susan mad.
“That’s not—ah—necessary for you to know about.”
“I want to get the character right, Mr. Steadhill,” I said firmly.
“Yes. Yes, of course you do. Well, I took her to the Santa Monica pier for our anniversary. It was where we first met, you see. And she balked at my idea for our –our vacation. She didn’t want to do things my way.”
“Hmm.” Susan’s husband was a bit of a control freak. And Susan was a bit stubborn. Okay, I could do that.
“And I couldn’t convince her, and she got mad and we fought.” He looked away, obviously embarrassed to be talking about it.
“That’s fine. Okay. You couldn’t make up before this appointment, though?”