It was unmistakably the glint of a cara lens. Matthew suspected he was being watched, likely by a reporter or a paparazzo who could tail him all the way to Malibu.
Suddenly, the door of the yellow Chevrolet swung open, and a figure in a baseball cap erged, heading straight for him.
It was clearly a woman, and a remarkably tall one. Matthew sized her up, estimating she had to be at least six-foot-one.
Matthew rolled down his window, leaning out to get a better look. He could make out the woman's distinct features: deep-set eyes, a high-bridged nose, sharp cheekbones, and a broad forehead.
The blonde woman noticed him watching and strode directly over to his car.
“Where’s Bill Matteson?” the woman demanded as she reached his car.
Matthew realized she was asking about the previous driver. “He quit,” he replied.
“Quit?” The blonde’s face flushed with anger. “That worthless, good-for-nothing bastard!”
Matthew stared at her, bewildered, wondering what her connection was to Bill Matteson.
“How dare he take my money and just disappear!” The blonde woman seethed. She lifted a sneaker-clad foot and furiously kicked the Ford’s tire. Matthew scrambled to stop her. “Hey, what do you think you’re doing? That’s private property!”
The woman raised her leg to kick it again, but Matthew shoved his door open and climbed out.
“Cut it out!” Matthew glared at her, his irritation mounting.
If anything happened to the car, it would co right out of his paycheck.
The blonde lowered her foot, sizing Matthew up. “You’re the new driver of this car?” she asked.
Matthew’s own confusion was plain. “Who are you?” he countered. “Why are you following ? You’ve been on my tail all the way from Hollywood Boulevard.”
“We...” The blonde glanced around nervously. “Can we talk in the car?”
“No. Say what you need to say right here,” Matthew said, impatient. He had no desire to chat with this lunatic.
The blonde’s voice dropped to a near-whisper. “Are you headed to Malibu?”
Matthew grew wary. “Are you a reporter?”
“A journalist,” she corrected, then continued, “If the tip Bill Matteson gave
is accurate, you’re driving for Jonny Lee Miller’s party tonight. A lot of British celebrities are supposed to be there—Jude Law, Ewan McGregor, Ewen Bremner. Is that correct?”
Matthew had only taken the job on short notice. The information Lister had given him just said it was a big party for Jonny Lee Miller, with no ntion of a guest list. He didn’t recognize the nas Ewen Bremner or Jude Law, but he certainly knew Ewan McGregor was a star from his role as Obi-Wan Kenobi in Star Wars.
“No wonder you were tailing ,” Matthew muttered. It was all starting to make sense.
But then he added firmly, “I’m not telling you anything.”
With that, Matthew turned to get back into his car, but the blonde stepped in front of him, blocking his way. “Wait.”
“You’re harassing ,” Matthew said, pulling out his phone. “I’m calling the cops.”
Just then, he heard the click of high heels on the pavent. He turned to see Rachel erging from the house and walking toward them.
Undeterred, the blonde pulled out a few bills. “Get
onto Jonny Lee Miller’s estate. This is three hundred dollars.”
“Three hundred dollars?” In the past, Matthew might have been tempted, but now he just shook his head.
Three hundred dollars to risk his job was a joke. And unlike Angelina Jolie, this journalist couldn’t do a thing for his acting career.
Especially with Jonny Lee Miller there, not to ntion Ewan McGregor...
Forget three hundred dollars; he would have to think twice even if she offered five thousand.
Ignoring the attempted bribe, Matthew didn’t even spare a glance for the cash. He stepped around the blonde, noting again how tall she was—a hair taller than him, in fact—and how toned. She had the build of an athlete, reminding him of a female tennis player he’d once watched, whose na he couldn’t recall.
Hands on her hips, the journalist watched Matthew get back into the Ford. As he was shutting the door, he saw her lift her leg for another kick. He slamd the car into drive and hit the gas. The Ford jolted forward, startling her and making her jump back.
He stopped beside the approaching model, reached across to open the passenger door, and waited for Rachel to get in before imdiately pulling away.
Rachel slid into the seat beside him. “You’re driving
again, Matthew.”
Matthew smiled at her. “Bill Matteson quit, so I’m back behind the wheel of this car.”
“I heard from Bill that you landed a role,” Rachel said, her eyes alight with envy. “A Ridley Scott movie, wow.”
Matthew nodded, downplaying it. “Just a small part. A few close-ups.”
“Close-ups?” Rachel’s jaw dropped.
She slapped the dashboard. “Oh my God! Did I hear you right? This is only your third role, isn’t it?”
When Matthew nodded, Rachel sighed. “I’m so jealous of your luck.”
“My agent knows Ridley Scott,” Matthew said with a casual shrug. “That’s how I got the part.”
Rachel was overco with envy. If she’d ever had a connection like that, she wouldn’t have ended up in this line of work.
They chatted on the way, just like before. Matthew picked up seven more models from various locations before dropping them all off at the estate in Malibu. He paid close attention to the entry and exit procedures, noting that security was much tighter than usual. Guards even followed his Ford until he was completely off the property.
He drove to his usual waiting spot, parked, and had just killed the engine when he saw the yellow Chevrolet pull up and park to his right.
The tall reporter lifted her cara, aid it at the estate for a mont, then tossed it onto her passenger seat before pushing her door open and getting out.
She walked over and rapped on the Ford’s passenger-side window.
“We et again,” the reporter said, gesturing for him to roll down the window.
Matthew rolled down the window. “Leave
alone,” he said wearily.
Ignoring him, she said, “I’m Ilana, a journalist with U.S. News & World Report. What’s your na?”
“Matthew,” he answered reluctantly.
“Hi, Matthew.” The blonde’s deanor shifted, becoming more earnest. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
Matthew sighed and unlocked the passenger door, letting the journalist, Ilana, into the car.
“Nice ride,” Ilana comnted, sliding into the seat beside Matthew and glancing around at the car’s interior.
Matthew ignored her comnt and got straight to the point. “You know Matteson?”
Being so tall, Ilana had to slide her seat all the way back. “He’s my informant,” she explained. “He specializes in feeding
stories. I heard about this party from him last week and paid him a hefty sum to get
inside.”
“How much did you pay him?” Matthew asked.
Ilana’s brow furrowed. “A thousand dollars.”
She then fixed her gaze on Matthew. “Are you interested?”
Matthew knew what she was getting at. “To be an informant? Sell out the company’s clients?”
“I’ll make it worth your while,” Ilana said, her voice laced with temptation.
“Not interested,” Matthew refused flatly. “I don’t have ti for that. I need my rest, or I’ll be falling asleep in acting class tomorrow.”
“You’re taking acting classes?” Ilana turned to look at him, her curiosity piqued. “You’re an actor?”
Matthew nodded, tapping the steering wheel. “This is just my side gig,” he said, referring to the driving.
Ilana understood. He was just another small-ti actor. Los Angeles was crawling with them.
“What have you been in?” she asked, fishing for any potentially useful information.
Matthew was about to answer when his phone rang. He pulled it out and glanced at the screen. It was Helen.
He hit the answer button. “Hey, Helen. What’s up? You’re calling late.”
Helen’s crisp voice ca through the line. “Be at the agency office by nine a.m. tomorrow. I’ve got a job for you.”
Not wanting a repeat of the confusion he’d felt showing up on the Gladiator set, Matthew asked imdiately, “Can you tell
what it is this ti?”
Helen replied curtly, “The male lead in the new Britney Spears music video.”
“What?” Matthew nearly shot out of his seat. “Did I hear you right? The male lead in a Britney Spears video?”
His voice was loud, and despite the tinny sound coming from his old phone’s earpiece, Ilana’s head snapped toward him. Britney Spears had been a national sensation since the beginning of the year, and any news involving her was guaranteed to grab headlines.
She stared at Matthew. This guy was auditioning for the male lead in a Britney Spears video? Could that be real?
After getting confirmation from Helen, Matthew managed to say, “I’ll be there on ti.”
Anyone who paid the slightest bit of attention to entertainnt news knew who Britney Spears was. The woman was a dia magnet, and Matthew had idly read plenty of tabloid stories about her feuds with childhood friends and other gossip just to kill ti.
After hanging up, Matthew put his phone away, a thrill of excitent running through him. It was just an audition, after all, and there was no guarantee he’d get the part, but still.
Beside him, Ilana was now convinced the news was real, and her mind reeled with the possibilities.
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