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‘Well, that’s good,’ said Tess, a little mollified. ‘A
re you hurt? Where are you?’
‘At a friend’s place. He’s a doctor.’
‘Which friend?’ said Tess suspiciously. Brooke suddenly had the strongest sense that it probably wasn’t too wise to have come here.
‘Matt Palmer,’ she said quickly, hoping it wouldn’t register with Tess.
‘Matthew Palmer?’ cried Tess so loudly that Brooke had to jerk the phone away from her ear. ‘Matthew Palmer the old flame? The Matthew Palmer from the Danny Krantz stitch–up?’ Tess was almost yelling now.
Brooke glanced over to Matt who took the hint and left the room.
‘Tess. I told you,’ she hissed into the phone. ‘He’s just a friend. More importantly, he’s an ER doctor and I was ten blocks from his apartment.’
Brooke could hear Tess take a deep breath. ‘We’ll discuss this later,’ she said. ‘In the meantime, I think we should put out a pre–emptive statement about the pap incident.’
‘To whom?’
‘To one of the news wires. I don’t want this videographer guy jumping the gun and putting a story out that you assaulted him. I think we can be pretty certain he’ll try.’
Brooke felt a flutter of panic. Until that moment, the only thing she had been concerned about was her aching foot. ‘But I didn’t assault anyone!’
Tess’s voice was reassuringly calm and efficient. ‘I know, Brooke, but paparazzi want to make money and the more sensational the story the better. You can bet he’s going to spin it as a vicious unprovoked attack on an innocent bystander who just happened to be there filming the squirrels. So what we should do is beat him to the punch with our story: how you were followed and harassed by a professional lowlife and sustained an injury during that pursuit. I’ve no doubt Patty can threaten legal action too, and hopefully that should be enough to scare them off. Failing that, maybe we can buy those photographs.’
‘It was a videographer.’
‘Whatever. We don’t want it getting on Extra! Or HollywoodTV.’
Brooke let out a deep breath. ‘Thanks Tess.’
‘Give me Palmer’s address and I’ll get a driver to collect you. Then I’ll make an appointment with your doctor. We might need someone to say how badly you were hurt.’
‘Surely that’s not necessary?’ Brooke added nervously.
‘We’ll see.’
As Brooke hung up, she noticed Matt was standing in the doorway watching her.
‘From the outside things always look better,’ he said quietly.
She looked at him puzzled.
‘Your life,’ he said with a frankness that made her uncomfortable.
Brooke waved a hand. ‘Don’t feel sorry for me.’
‘It’s me you’re talking to, Brooke,’ he said. ‘All this crap must get you down.’
Brooke looked at him, then shrugged. ‘You know the weird thing is that I liked it at first. Okay, not the getting followed by the pap bit, but getting bags and dresses sent by designers, every invitation to every hot party in the city, a reservation at any restaurant. I felt like someone. Does that make sense?’
‘I guess. Come on, let’s get some ice on that. He went into the kitchen and returned with a bag of ice cubes wrapped in a white cloth. He rested her foot gently in his lap and held the cold bag against her skin.
‘Ouucchhh,’ she cried again.
‘A sprain is just damage to the ligament surrounding the ankle,’ he said as he worked. ‘You should be back on your feet in a week, probably completely recovered in maybe three weeks.’
She looked at him with alarm. ‘But it’s the Costume Institute Ball in two weeks. I have to go.’
