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Chapter 1
I turn the page of my book as I’m gently poked and prodded from every angle while my hairdresser works his magic, taking me from average thirty-something woman to red carpet ready. You’d think it’d be exciting, but after years of these events it’s just another chore to add to the list.
I squirm sideways in an effort to see the words on the page. ‘Stop fidgeting, Ellie,’ says Jonas, who tabloids have coinedcoiffeurto the stars, a fancy term for hairdresser. He’s as flamboyant as he is talented and the best in the biz. He’s been doing my hair and make-up for years now and we’ve grown close.
‘Thirty minutes until the limo arrives to transform this sweet thang into a goddess,’ he says under this breath.
‘Did you just call mesweet thang?’ Only Jonas could make that expression sound right.
‘I did.’
I shake my head with a laugh and continue reading, only stopping every now and then to ponder what I’d do if faced with the same scenario my characters are.
‘We’re a little behind schedule here.’ Jonas grimaces as he glances at his watch.
‘Just put my hair in a topknot.’
He raises well-groomed brows. ‘Oh, no, no, no can do. Your mother wants loose Hollywood curls.’
‘Again?’ I say with a what-can-you-do shrug. I don’t get a say in these things. Besides, allowing Mother to arrange the styling gives me more time to read while everyone else fusses behind the scenes.
‘Your look today is old Hollywood glamour.’ While my life might seem exciting from the outside, it’s empty on the inside. I’m ferried straight from the office of Astor News and Media to nightly events, which doesn’t leave a lot of downtime. Usually after a twelve-hour day my rigor mortis smile is fixed into position, giving me lockjaw, and I pine for a life other than this. Reading is my happy place, my go-to where I can forget the world and relax no matter how short a time I have to get lost in the pages.
‘Speaking of glamour … where the bloody hell is Holly?’ Jonas asks. ‘She’s supposed to have the frock ready to go! If she comes traipsing in here with the wrong dress again, I’m going to need a stiff drink and a long lie-down.’
‘Don’t worry, she’ll be here soon.’
Jonas puts the finishing touches on my curls and moves on to my make-up. He’s a man of many talents but gets worked up when he knows the likelihood of bumping into my mother is imminent.
‘OK, OK. My nerves are shot is all.’
I give him a supportive pat on the hand. ‘You need to lose yourself in a good book every now and then to help you relax.’ I’m rewarded with a dramatic eyeroll. ‘I have tequila if all else fails.’
‘Nowthere’s a book I could get into …Tequila Mockingbird.’
‘Jonas!’ I throw my head back and laugh. ‘Sounds like the name of those ultra-hip cocktail bars you frequent on a Friday.’
‘Thursdayis the new Friday, darling. But you wouldn’t know – you’re too busy strutting the red carpet.’ Jonas is a bit of a celebrity himself these days and is always getting write-ups in the press as he hops from one bar to the next with his fabulously fashionable entourage.
‘Is it? I havenoclue. If I have a night off the last thing I want to do is head out.’
My gaze wanders back to my book.The Last Days of Rabbit Hayesis heart-wrenching, but I can’t bear for it to end. An ugly cry every now and then is good for the soul but now is not the time for that sort of thing. Still, I really need to know what happens …
Jonas glances at his watch again. His worry is contagious, and I only hope Hollyison her way here. I don’t like being late – it screams diva and that is something I’m not. Plus, I don’t want to put any more pressure on my anxiouscoiffeur.
‘Tilt your head to the side, darling,’ Jonas says. I give in to it and forget about the dress, and my assistant who is MIA. Poor Holly will be running all over London trying to find the right garment, one specifically requested by my mother, with only a vague description of where it actually is – Mum can be very Miranda Priestly at times.
I get to an emotional scene in the book and despite my trying to hold it in the floodgates open. I thought there’d be a miracle, something, anything for it to end another way. I swallow back tears, knowing I’m only a moment away from a sob fest I might not recover from. The shattering of my heart is almost audible, like the splintering of a thousand shards of glass.
‘Darling are theyrealtears?’ Jonas scrutinises me. ‘Is my queencrying?’ He peers closer, which only make the tears fall harder. Jonas’s expression appears positively worried.
‘Sorry! It’s this book.’ I wave it in the air as I try to swallow my heartbreak and compose myself. ‘It’s. Just. So. Devastating.’ The words come out haltingly. I take a deep centring breath and expel some of the grief. ‘Yet it’s somehow uplifting. I don’t think I’m going to be able to sleep tonight thinking of it.’ My bottom lip wobbles as I put on a brave face.
‘You’re too good for this world, with a heart bigger than Texas – that’s you. It baffles me because you’re theoppositeof your mother. I often wonder where you get your empathetic streak from, but that’s a conversation for another day. Can I get you a tissue, a … tequila?’
‘I’m good, I’m fine. Have I ruined the make-up? Sorry, I know we’re already pressed for time.’
Jonas shakes his head. ‘It’s not a problem, darling. Nothing these nimble fingers can’t fix.’ He dabs under my eyes to repair the damage. Really, I should know better than to read such an emotional tale before a red-carpet event.
