Chapter Part Eleven
It was the last thing that Emma expected, the last voice she’d expected to hear lilting down the phone line. The last few days she’d almost managed to forget about him...her husband. Jacob. For a moment she floundered unsure what to say. She’d hoped that her escape was all she’d need. But Jacob Coren wasn’t having any of that. Obviously.
“I...” it was futile. “I thought it was for the best.” Was all she could offer. What could she say otherwise?
His laugh was fairly derogatory and it instantly put Emma on edge. “What the best outcome was my new wife running away?”
She gasped, was he taking this whole thing serious? Was he seeing this as more than what it was? A great big mistake! “I’m not your wife!”
He laughed again, “oh I think you’ll find that you are! And running away isn’t going to make that fact, or me go away!”
“Look, Jacob. This should never have happened, we need to get the marriage annulled, then we can both get on with life. Ok?”
Not waiting for a reply she hung up, then stood staring at the phone, heart racing, fingers over lips, whole being shocked into silence.
Jacob looked at the handset stunned. Well that hadn’t turned out as he’d intended. He had no idea why he’d started the conversation so defensively. He KNEW why she’d run away. And in truth, he might have done the same had he woken first, and if it they hadn’t been in his room. It was all a little surreal, no, a lot surreal and he had wanted to speak to her, work out a solution that suited them both, instead he’d been defensive, she’d been angry, and now they had a standoff. Great work Coren! He mentally chastised himself as he headed for the kitchen, and a beer.
He’d try again; give her some time to calm down. After all, Andy had made him realise it was imperative to sort out this mess...asap.
Emma looked at the barely packed suitcase and the huge pile of clothing that would never fit in it. Isobel was sat cross legged on her bed, a grin on her face.
“Ok, so it’s California in late May. How hot can it be?” She pulled out her phone and checked out the weather. “Wow! Mid twenties in Los Angeles...are you based there?”
Emma looked up from her position on her hands and knees burrowing in the bottom of her wardrobe, “well I fly to LAX, then I’m at the mercy of Jeremy, Clarence’s equivalent on the West coast. He’s arranged an apartment for me, one that won’t suck all my as yet unpaid earnings, and then I don’t know. I think there’s some photo shoots, costume checks...not sure otherwise.”
Isobel flopped on her bed, “I am SO jealous of you! I wish I was following my dream to LA!”
Emma felt her eyes widen, “really? You have a job you love, a beautiful home, and are about to marry the man of your dreams, someone who worships you no less! And you are envious of me?” Her laugh was self deprecating, “I’m so nervous! I mean this is everything! For years I’ve had this pipe dream, and if this fails...well my parents will be right. I’ve wasted the prime years of my life chasing rainbows.”
Smiling Isobel hated seeing the trauma in her friend’s eyes, “it’s not a rainbow! It’s everything you are!” Then she winked, “and we all know there’s a pot of gold at the end of every rainbow!”
Emma wished she could share her friend’s optimism, but her anxiety and nerves that were dominating her life had appeared way before the trip to Vegas and the disastrous way that had ended. Nope she’d started to realise that it was fear, fear that was ruining her life. She had no idea what to do, how to change things if this part led to nothing.
As she pondered her future, the doorbell interrupted them. Emma made for the hallway, and Isobel followed, on the proviso of getting more coffee. Pulling open the door Emma smiled at the postman who stood with a small parcel in his hands.
“Got to sign for this one love!” He offered her a pen, and indicated a box on his clipboard. Taking the parcel that was no more than a padded envelope, she closed the door and headed for the kitchen in the wake of her friend.
“What is it?”
Emma shrugged accepting the fresh mug of coffee, “US postmark.”
“Something from your new employer Theo Samuel?” she asked excitedly clapping her hands. “Open it! Quickly!”
Muttering under her breath pretending she wasn’t as curious as her friend, she started to pick open the packaging. Inside was a folded paper, pulling it out, she gasped as a pair of pretty black lace knickers fell onto the table. Not just any knickers, but hers. The ones that were last seen in a certain Las Vegas hotel room.
“What the...?” Isobel made to ask as she saw the words on the paper that had encased the panties.
‘Tempted to keep these as a souvenir of my beautiful and willing wife...but it seems YOU need some reminding! Legally mine Miss White, or should I say Mrs Coren? Legally mine!’
It was his response to her brushing him off a few days earlier, a sign that he knew all about her, where she lived, worked...and he wasn’t allowing her to run off.
“What the fuck?”
Shit! Emma’s head snapped up, she’d forgotten her best friend was there, a witness to her dirty secret, then flinched, she’d never heard her friend use that expletive so readily.
“Wife? Emma?”
Slumping into the chair at the small table she hid her face in her hands, tears falling on to her scorching cheeks. This was what he wanted, to humiliate her. She felt a hand on her back and eventually managed to look up at her friend.
“What the hell have you done?” It was said in such an understanding, caring way that it brought another bout of tears to her face.
“Vegas...” she finally blubbed. “I woke up married...”
Despite everything, Isobel took the news remarkably well, she was calm and composed as she placed a hand over one of Emma’s and sighed, “Shit! I knew you were acting strangely, but I NEVER predicted that! Was it the poker player?”
Emma nodded, glad that her friend didn’t judge her, criticise her, “I don’t really remember it...”
That wasn’t strictly true. Over the last ten days memories of the evening had been flooding back in quite graphic detail and was making ignoring what happened even more difficult.
When she looked up Isobel had an eyebrow raised in question, “seems he hasn’t forgotten!”
The shame and pain were overwhelming, and there were a week’s worth of tears desperate to fall. Isobel slid her chair a little closer to her friend and put an arm around her shoulder. “How would we all survive without a White crisis every now and then? They are after all the most spectacular” She wanted to make light of her friend’s pain. And Emma couldn’t argue with her, she had often fallen into disasters and needed the help of her friend, though this was maybe the worst example. “And surely you can annul? I mean I remember Brittany Spears did exactly the same!”
Emma groaned, “so I get put into THAT bracket? Jeez! Thanks!” They both laughed and the mood lightened. “Seriously though, I called Marcia Blackstone...” She had to pause as Isobel burst into laughter.
Marcia was another college friend who was a junior partner in a London law firm. And boy didn’t the world know it! She was the most confident and least modest person known to man. Every conversation started with a name drop or an example of just how wonderful she’d been that day/week/hour. She was really only tolerable in small doses, Isobel knew that advice from a family law lawyer would have ultimately cost less than the favours Marcia would rack up for any advice offered. Poor Emma, it must be bad!
“Anyway!” She widened her eyes trying to express how difficult this position was. “She said that to annul a Vegas marriage I have to prove that I, or rather WE have been residents of Nevada for six weeks. And I have to prove that I was too inebriated to consent to the marriage.”
“And were you?” Isobel was all sympathy again. Her friend knew that a six week stay in Nevada was way out of the question.
“I was drunk...but I signed the certificate. I agreed to it, I wasn’t coerced into anything.”
Isobel shook her head, “what a...”
“Mess!” Emma finished for her, “this is hell. I just need to sort it out as soon as I can. I mean this is the eve of the greatest thing in my life and I’ve got this going on! It’s hell!”
Emma had had no idea how good it would feel to finally share this news. It had been eating at her like a cancer since the moment it had become reality. Now things seemed a little easier, a little more palatable.
“Sorry I didn’t tell you...I was hoping to deal with it, and then no one would have to know.”
Isobel sighed, “I don’t judge you Em, you know that. You can tell me anything!”
Emma laughed, “speaking the words is accepting that it has happened. I’ve not been ready for that!”
“But don’t you see? The timing is perfect. You’re going to California, find him sort it out, then it’s all done...and dusted.”
As the plane flew across the Atlantic, her return to North America, Emma rued the easiness that they’d accepted that solution. Despite Jacob knowing everything about her, he was far more evasive and elusive than her. After not being able to find even the slightest hint of Jacob, she’d hoped that he’d contact her again. But the infuriating man was doing anything but. So she was flying out to prepare for her new job, new everything with this absent man infuriating her with every step.
The steward on the flight was flirting with her, she’d already had more drinks than anyone else on the flight, and now he was bringing her snacks that she hadn’t requested. Each time he gave her a dazzling white toothed grin and a wink.
Another time she might have flirted back. But that had got her in real trouble recently; she couldn’t afford to let her defences down again. So she smiled politely and ignored him and his pheromones.
Jeremy Booth was the complete contrast to Clarence. Tall and reedy he was charismatic and laughed a lot - genuinely. Considering he was the first person she’d met in Hollywood, she couldn’t help smile at the irony. He had collected her in a soft top Cadillac, and she was glad she’d applied sunscreen as they cruised the City with the top down.
The apartment he’d found for her was little more than she had in London. Her London home barely qualified in description as a flat, a lounge/kitchen, a small bedroom and an even smaller bathroom. But this one, on the third floor of a Santa Monica apartment block whilst having little more in terms of size, had a view, of the beach! And it made up for everything. It didn’t take long to unpack, and she had the rest of the day to herself, so she slid into some summery clothes and headed outside. Jeremy had left her details of a rendez vous with her new team the following day, and an itinerary for the next few days. So she knew she had the evening to herself, and it was bliss!
How did you approach a Hollywood superstar? Emma could barely move for her shaking knees. She’d presumed she’d be meeting one of the production assistants, she had no idea that the man himself, Theo Samuel would be sat across the hotel lobby waiting patiently for her. She had to give herself a reality check. She had a small part in half the episodes of this series. Her spoken scenes may still end up on the cutting room floor; there were no guarantees in this world, that’s the only thing she knew for definite.
Taking a deep breath she lifted her shoulders and strode across the reception to him.
“Mr Samuel? I’m...”
“Emma White!” He stood and vigorously shook her hand, “I’m SO glad to see you again! And PLEASE call me Theo.” He looked her slowly up and down, and Emma’s nerves were on edge, if she’d known she was meeting him she might have dressed a little differently. Her jeans and fitted shirt seemed all too casual. Then she wriggled her toes and remembered that she was wearing her Laboutin shoes...they gave her the confidence she needed. And she met his smile head on, ignoring the voice that reminded her just who bought her the amazing kick ass shoes. Jacob Coren had no place in her thoughts today.
“No criticisms today though, hey?” Suddenly he reminded her of the faux pas she’d made at their last encounter. As she stammered to find an appropriate response, he laughed, “It’s ok! I find it SO refreshing to hear the truth! The last few years my days have been filled with people willing to please me...your honesty was a major plus in my decision to hire you!” He saw her jaw drop and quickly added, “along with your acting skills of course! They appealed first!”
With a dramatic ‘Phew’ he led her by the elbow towards the restaurant. “Come and have brunch! There are a few other people to meet, and a lot to fit in over the next few days!”