Picture Perfect (32 page)

“We have new student, Trina. What are you teaching today?”  Kyoko glanced at the board. “Mas-tur-ba-tion. What is that?” Kyoko may have run an ESL school, but she was hardly fluent herself.

“Oh, hand job!” laughed Roka heartily, the remainder of the class tapping away at their keys.

Instantly, Trina turned her attention toward the new student, “masturbation” still hanging on the whiteboard behind her and a fine blush coloring her cheeks. “Who’s this?”

“This is Naoko. Her parents are getting divorced and she is here until they can decide where she will live, but she has upset stomach.” Kyoko raised her hand to her mouth and whispered, “Diarrhea.”

Trina smiled at the poor girl. Kyoko had a penchant for giving out too much information.

“I told her to drink some green tea, but she is afraid it will make her go diarrhea again,” Kyoko confided.

She also gave advice, usually involving the healing powers of green tea or some sort of ancient Japanese concoction.

“I leave her with you. You teach her about mas-tur-ba-tion. Okay?”

Kyoko departed swiftly, leaving Naoko standing in the middle of the room. Trina pulled out a plastic chair and invited her to join the rest of the students at the table. Her downcast eyes revealed a world of information to Trina. She was like all the other Japanese girls who came to her class. Timid, scared, lonely, and desperate. And dumped in a city halfway around the world from all her friends and family.

Trina knew exactly how she felt.

* * *

“What do you think of the new guy?” Juliet asked of Trina.

“What new guy?”

“You know exactly what. The hottie that just moved in above you.”

“Oh him. A sociopath,” Trina said with a wave of her hand, careful not to spill her Irish coffee. It had become an afternoon ritual of theirs. Trina would come over at teatime and instead of tea, the two of them would sip on spiked coffee and gossip over the news of the day. Usually, that news had to do with whatever man Juliet was currently seeing. 

“What do you mean?” Juliet asked.

“I brought him a plate of macaroons last night to welcome him to the neighborhood—”

“Aren’t you the one-woman welcome wagon,” Juliet said, the sarcasm as rich as the Irish cream filling her cup.

“I’m neighborly like that,” Trina bit back.

“The hell you are. We’re only friends because your damn cat broke into my garage. If he hadn’t been wearing an I.D. tag, I’d have a new pet.”

“As if! You can barely keep your plants alive, let alone care for an animal.”

“Now that’s not fair. A ficus doesn’t tell you when it’s thirsty.”

Trina rolled her eyes. “Anyway, as I was saying, I brought him some cookies, and the guy practically slammed the door in my face.”

“Maybe he thought you were a Jehovah’s Witness or something.”

“I don’t know. He said something about jetlag.”

“Where’s he from?”

Trina shrugged. “He had a funny accent.”

“Funny how?”

“He kind of sounded like that crocodile guy who got killed by a stingray.”

“Steve Irwin? So, he’s an Aussie.”

“Or something like that. He said, ‘gidday’ and ‘cheers,’ so, maybe. But he didn’t exactly
look
Australian.”

“
Look
Australian?”

“You know. He kind of looked…Hawaiian.”

“Well, that makes him
much
more interesting.” Juliet leaned back into her plush chenille sofa and crossed her long legs. “You should take another crack at him.”

“What for? He’s just a tourist.”

“Those are the most fun,” she smiled devilishly, as if recalling her own adventures with handsome strangers from foreign lands.

Juliet had a penchant for world travel and wild encounters with South American men with names like Arturo, Roberto and Ronaldo. It always struck Trina as funny how in another language those names sounded so romantic, but in English they were just Art, Bob and Ron. At no time had Trina ever dreamt of being serenaded by anyone named Bob. Bob was the name of a man who wore black socks with brown sandals, and who probably owned a Buick. 

“I’ve got more important things to do than waste my time pursuing some Aussie who is clearly lacking in manners. He should have at least invited me in.”

“Ah ha. So you do like him,” Juliet asserted, pointing her coffee cup at Trina.

“I do not.”

“You do. You’re pissed he didn’t fall all over you and your silly macaroons. I don’t know why you insist on seducing men with that June Cleaver act of yours, anyway. Men don’t want to date their mothers, despite what Dr. Phil might say. Especially men in this town. This isn’t Mayfield after all.”

Trina twisted her mouth. She wasn’t like her best friend and neighbor. Juliet was a bona fide man-eater. With her long blond hair, clear blue eyes, killer legs, and that wicked smile of hers, she often reminded Trina of one of those blond bombshells that used to grace the covers of tawdry paperbacks from the 1930s. At five feet tall with brown eyes and her dark brown locks sheared into a pixie, Trina was the exact opposite of Juliet.

“Yeah, yeah,” Trina agreed. “But really, what is the point anyway? He’s only subletting while Susan’s dancing in some crap musical in Europe or wherever.”

Susan, Trina’s regular upstairs neighbor, was a dancer and forever renting out her place whenever she went on tour. And it drove Trina nuts. Having an apartment with a view of the famed Hollywood sign was fabulous, but living underneath a group of tourists on vacation in Los Angeles wasn’t. But she’d hoped this new guy would be less of an irritant and more of a pleasure. Guess she’d got that bit wrong.

“Maybe he’s just subletting until he can get his own place. Did you ask him why he was here?”

“No,” Trina sneered. She was getting tired of this conversation. “The door was closed before we’d done anything other than exchange names.”

Trina was growing irritable now. Even Juliet’s tropic-inspired surroundings couldn’t soothe the prickles beginning to form under her skin. The fountain tinkling in the corner, the lush green palms, even the melodic sounds of Wynton Marsalis emanating from Juliet’s stereo couldn’t erase the fact that she’d been rejected by the first guy in months she’d taken an interest in. And Juliet’s needling wasn’t making her feel any better about it.

“He was jetlagged. Give the guy a break. I say you go back and make a proper introduction. And leave the cookies at home.” Juliet rose and indicated it was time for Trina to get her ass off the couch and into gear. “Use some of your god-given goodies to lure him out of his time-warped stupor. And I’m talking cleavage. God knows you’re blessed with bounty in that area.”

Trina scooted off the sofa and followed Juliet to the door, knowing full well she would do nothing in regards to her new upstairs neighbor.

“And don’t just go home and plop in front of your decorating shows. It’s time you get some action, girl. I’m tired of you sulking in my apartment every afternoon.”

“I’m sulking because I can’t find a job. Not because I don’t have a man.”

Juliet pulled the door open. “You have no control over the job market. But a man is much easier to land.”

Maybe for you,
Trina thought.

“I expect a full report tomorrow.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Trina plodded down the stairs and across the courtyard to her apartment. A quick glance northward confirmed that the Hollywood sign was indeed still there. Still taunting her. And though she couldn’t see them from the courtyard, those iron gates of Paramount Studios, she knew, still sat just two blocks away. Surrounded by a tall hedge-lined wall and guarded at every entrance, it seemed to her that it would take something akin to a miracle to get inside the famed studio. That, or the thirty-five dollar studio tour was so far the only hope she had for getting inside.

Year after year, she’d watched as creative types drove in and out of the ornate entrance. Ogled people as they walked across Gower Street to the parking garage, wondering what made them different from her. Education? Not anymore. She had a Master of Fine Arts in Film. (And one hundred thousand dollars in film school debt to go along with it!) Experience? Well, maybe professional experience. But her education included working as an intern on more than one production. She knew her way around a set. Opportunity? That had to be it.

The movie business was changing. More and more productions were being filmed in foreign locations like Canada, Mexico and even as far away as New Zealand. And those that didn’t leave Los Angeles had their pick of highly skilled artisans. Fewer productions meant fewer opportunities.

Trina sighed as she shoved the key in her lock, glancing up at the apartment above hers. Maybe Juliet was right. Maybe she should take another crack at the new guy. He might not offer any real relationship potential, but at least he would be a nice distraction. Take her mind off her non-existent Hollywood career. And it had been months since any man had turned her head. And maybe it
was
just jetlag that had him acting so rudely yesterday. Australia was a fifteen-hour flight away, after all. She could hardly expect chivalry after such a journey.

Yes, she’d give it another go. For he was awfully enticing with his black curls, tanned skin, and dark eyes. And there was something very
un
Hollywood about him that appealed to Trina. He didn’t seem like the kind of guy that cared more about his car than whatever girl was currently lying beneath him. In fact, even though she’d only spoken to him for two minutes, she felt he was the kind of guy that would beat up those self-absorbed Hollywood pricks she usually dated. Wouldn’t that be refreshing? Not that she liked brutes, because he certainly wasn’t a brute. And now that she thought about it, he wasn’t rude to her at all. In fact, he’d been rather polite when he answered the door. Smiling at her, apologizing for his scraggly, travel-weary appearance, complimenting her baking, saying her
biscuits
reminded him of home. He was just taken by surprise. Hadn’t had time to recuperate from his long flight. Of course he couldn’t have invited her in. Certainly, he just didn’t want her seeing him all bedraggled.  

Well, surely by now he was well rested.

       That was it then. Juliet was right. Time to take some action. Because obviously he
fancied
her. That much was clear. But if she couldn’t use her legendary culinary skills to woo him, what then? She’d have to find some other reason to knock on his door.

Continue reading
Hollywood Ending
.

Praise for Hollywood Ending

"It was a cute and sweet love story that allowed me to escape from all my daily routines...lighthearted fun that has a strong storyline and characters who are easy to love." ~ Melissa, Chick Lit Central

"It left me with warm, fuzzy feelings (and a lingering smile) long after I’d read the last page – I love nothing better than the opportunity to laugh at life and it’s hardships. I certainly look forward to Lucie’s next book!" ~ Tlassy Beyond Belief

"Reading Lucie Simone’s
Hollywood Ending
is like taking a quick, fun, froth-filled trip to the City of Angels without the regrets or hangover afterwards." ~ The Brazen Bookworm

"
Hollywood Ending
has all the elements of summer chick lit – a young woman trying to find her way in the world, a dreamy leading man and enough missed connections and misinterpretations to infuriate and titillate the reader." ~ Bitch Lit

"Filled with an unexpected twist, a hot, steamy romance, and many laughs along the way, this is a great escape from reality, with a glimpse into the struggles women face on the road to success. A great chick lit book that does have it's happy ending!" ~ Kristin, Always with a Book

"In all,
Hollywood Ending
is the perfect way to spend a weekend afternoon, in my opinion. It's witty, charming, and full of swoon-worthy romance. So do yourself a favor and give this book a try!" ~ Lauren, Lauren's Crammed Bookshelf

"I couldn't wait to keep flipping the pages and see what would happen to the main characters" ~ Mrs. V, In Search of Balance

"
Hollywood Ending
has it all...glitz, glamour, romance and comedy!" ~ Cheryl, Cheryl's Book Nook

"There was the perfect mix of Hollywood glitz and glamour balanced with the day to day realities of actual life in Hollywood...it's not all parties and cocktails! This really was a fast, enjoyable read and I found myself totally routing for Trina and Matiu right from the beginning!" ~ Jessica, I Read to Relax

"Lucie Simone has written an engaging, frothy romance that will entrance readers and leave them determined to discover how Trina's life will turn out. This book is recommended for readers ready for some light-hearted fun." ~ Sandie, Booksie's Blog

Acknowledgements

I’d like to thank my friends and family for their continued support of my writing career and the many wonderful authors and bloggers I have come to know and respect over the past couple of years, especially Samantha March, Nancy Scrofano, Melissa Amster and Amy Bromberg of Chick Lit Central, and way too many others to list here. I would also like to give my thanks to Kathy Bennett, Alyssa Kress, and Leigh Court who read early versions of
Picture Perfect
when it was still in its infancy, as well as Cindy Arora whose critical eye kept me on track as I was closing in on the finish line. I cannot forget my good friend Judith Antelman, who composed the poem, “release,” specifically for this book and whose friendship also inspired the relationship between Justine and Lauren. Lastly, I am extremely grateful to Stephon Fuller for simply being there for me when I needed a strong shoulder to lean on. You are the definition of a good man, Stephon, and I’m so glad you are a part of my life.