The Berkeley Method (15 page)

I let my hand run over the clothes. Probably best to start with the shoes, since there are only five pairs.

I decide on the black knee-high boots. They have a low spike heel, and the soft leather is tied with leather fronds along the top few inches at the back.

This detailing reminds me a little of the whip in the bedroom drawer. The boots are sexy and understated at the same time. They pretty much sum up how I feel around James Berkeley.

Next
, I settle on an unstructured grey dress made of cotton. It’s fairly short, with a little stitching to pull it in a flattering angle at the shoulders.

Finally
, I select a medium width black belt with heavy silver metalwork. This will add some shape and interest to the dress.

I set the clothes on the bed. Then I head for the shower, taking off my camisole top and underwear along the way. I’m wondering where to put these, when I spy a laundry basket in the bathroom.

I lift the lid to find a set of instructions taped inside. They explain that laundry is taken daily. I hesitate. Can I stand for a stranger to wash my underwear?

Making a decision, I drop my bra into the laundry and head to the sink to wash my panties. It’s way too demeaning to expect some poor housekeeper to wash them. Even using a washing machine.

I rinse the panties carefully with shampoo, wring them out, and hang them over the towel rail.

Then
, I step into the shower and let the warm water pour over me.

Wow. This is some shower.

The water pressure is incredible. It’s like being massaged whilst standing up. I let the shower blast away any residual sleepiness, and then wash and condition my hair.

I dry myself with a fluffy towel. I could get used to this, I think as I notice the hairdryer is ten times better than the one I have at home. I give my long hair a blast and then turn my attention to the make-up fridge behind the mirror.

I take out a few products. Face cream, mascara, a little lip-gloss.

This time, I use a very light touch with the mascara. Just enough to slightly darken my lashes. I apply lip-gloss and make a final glance of approval at my reflection.

It’s then I realise, I only have the underwear bought by James.

Twisting my mouth, I return to the bedroom and take out my favourite set. The soft pink lace with the Swarovski crystals.

It feels far too decadent to wear for the daytime, but it’s the most dressed-down of the selection. I’ll try to buy more underwear today, I decide.

I slip on the panties, feeling the thin ribbons at the back criss-cross over my buttocks.

The bareness of it feels both sophisticated and exposed. I fasten the bra, adjusting the pink ribbon band underneath my breasts. The lace falls delicately over the pale skin of my chest.

I risk a look in the mirror. It looks beautiful. The lace is so fine, so well made. It’s like the kind of bra set a fairy princess would wear.

Next, I pull on the grey dress I picked out earlier and slide the belt so it sits on my hips, adding structure to the fabric underneath. Then I push my feet into the spike-heeled knee high boots and tie up the fronds at the back.

I make a careful study in the mirror and adjust the belt again, so it sits at a slight angle over my hips.

With the underwear soft against my skin and this sexy-casual outfit, I feel amazing. Not quite like a movie star, perhaps. But I like how I look in these clothes.

I don’t have a purse, but then I guess I don’t need one. My gaze falls to the studio card on my bedside table. It’s all I need to buy anything I want. This is a weird thought, but it beats carrying a change purse, I guess.

I pick up the card and head out of the chalet.

I haven’t ordered anything for breakfast, so I decide I’ll head to the restaurant to grab a bite. I’m wondering at which point I’ll get to meet the famous Natalie Ennis, since it’s now clear she’s not far away.

As I exit the chalet, I nearly bump into Callum. He’s jogging past in sweatpants and an old T-shirt, with Will setting the pace dressed head-to-toe in Adidas.

“Hey!” Callum stops, wipes sweat from his brow, and pauses to catch his breath, leaning his palms on his thighs. Will gives me a signal wave and continues to jog on the spot. He looks like a professional athlete. He’s wearing a skin-tight white T-shirt which shows off his huge muscled arms, tracksuit pants, and the whitest sneakers I’ve ever seen.

“You look incredible,” says Callum, looking me up and down with a big smile. “I
love
those boots.”

He gives a dramatic toss of his head as he says this, as though no footwear ever moved him so profoundly.

“Thanks.” I can’t help but grin at him. If there were an award for most charming person on the planet, Callum would win it, hands down.

“You headed for the restaurant?” he asks.

“Guess so.”

Callum gives me a mischievous smile. “Think you can make it without getting lost this time?”

I grin at him. “Only time will tell.”

“Ok,” says Callum, “well, we’re headed that way now. Catch you in a few minutes.” He straightens, and him and Will jog away.

“See you there.” I wave him off and decide that, on this occasion, I’ll make it without getting lost.

Chapter 1
6

There seems to be a large amount of people inside the restaurant as I arrive, and none of them look familiar.

Crew members? Extras?

To my relief, I see a friendly face. Camilla leaps from her seat and races towards me.

“Issy!” she squeals. “I’m so glad you’re here.” She looks around distractedly. “I don’t know anyone here,” she confesses. “They all arrived today. I feel like a loner, sat by myself.”

She takes my arm companionably, drawing me over to where she was sitting.

“Who are they all?” I ask, scanning the mix of arrivals. Yesterday the restaurant was empty. Now it has around thirty diners, and they all seem to be talking loudly in American accents.

“They’re part of Natalie’s entourage,” says Camilla. “They came on ahead of her. To set things up.”

“What things?”

Camilla rolls her eyes. “All her diva demands, of course. They’ve already taken twenty suitcases into her chalet, to make sure she has her clothes already hanging. And all the products and extra things she wants.”

Camilla leans forward.

“She’s had boxes and boxes of Oreos and M&Ms imported from the States. I saw people carrying boxes of them into her chalet.”

I frown in confusion. “But we have Oreos and M&Ms in the UK.”

“She doesn’t think they’d taste the same as the US ones.”

Jeez. What a diva!

“She’s also demanded that the walkway to her chalet is scented with lavender,” adds Camilla. “Apparently, that’s important to calm her nerves. So, half of her crew were out with industrial-sized spritzers this morning, spraying the pathway with scent.”

My eyes widen in amazement. Camilla nods to confirm she’s not joking.

She twists her head suddenly, catching sight of someone entering the restaurant.

“Hey! Callum!”

I turn to see Callum approaching our table. His usual sunny expression is a little turned down.

“Where’s Will?” I ask as he takes a seat on the bench next to us.

“He’s making a call to his wife,” explains Callum. “It’s evening time in LA now, so it’s a good time to catch her.”

“What’s the matter?” asks Camilla, placing a hand on his arm. She has also detected the slight sadness in his demeanour.

“Oh,” sighs Callum, “I’ve just found out there are problems with the paparazzi at the studio. No big deal,” he adds, but his brown eyes look anxious.

“What problems?” asks Camilla.

“Natalie has managed to attract the attention of all the British press,” explains Callum. “And now they’re trying to set up camp outside the studio.”

“Is that bad?” asks Camilla.

“Yes,” says Callum. He rubs his forehead with his hand. “Well,” he clarifies, “it could be. In the past, studios have found it very difficult to keep movies on track, with a heavy press presence.”

“Why is that?” I ask, trying to imagine how paparazzi could ruin things. After all, the security is so tight. They can only wait outside.

“If there’s enough of them at the entrance, they mess up deliveries and scheduled equipment arriving on time,” explains Callum. “It’s logistics. Too many people. One small entrance.” He makes a triangle with his hands to mime the bottleneck.

Camilla and I exchange glances. That doesn’t sound good.

“And the press can find out what’s happening in the movie,” continues Callum. “So, they can issue spoilers before the film is out. And if they get their teeth into a really juicy story, newspapers sometimes pay for helicopters to fly over the set.”

Callum circles his hand above his head and, in typical actor fashion, makes a loud helicopter noise. Several heads turn towards our table.

“Not good for sound quality on a movie set,” he explains.

A really juicy story. Like James Berkeley cheating on Madison Ellis with an unknown actress.
I feel my stomach twist in unease.

Camilla is shaking her head. “James should have told Natalie not to attract press,” she says.

“He did,” I reply. “James expressly asked her to avoid press attention.”

They both turn to me in surprise, and I realise I’ve said too much.

“I… Um. I overheard some crew members talking about it,” I lie.

Callum raises an eyebrow but says nothing. None of us have seen any crew since we arrived.

“Surely it was an accident?” says Camilla. “I’ve been a fan of Natalie Ennis since her first movie. She’s super-famous. Probably the press just found her out.”

Callum gives a sardonic smile. “Natalie requested an enormous police escort, so that she didn’t have to wait in traffic,” he says. “The headlines this morning ran with ‘Queen Ennis’.” Callum mimes the headline with his hands.

“Apparently, Natalie demanded greater police presence than her Majesty the Queen has at public events,” he adds. “The media had a field day.”

I let out a breath.
Natalie is either completely stupid, or deliberately courting a media circus.

“You don’t think the movie will be cancelled?” asks Camilla. Her pale face looks devastated, and her lower lip trembles. “I’ve been wanting to act since
forever
. It could be a year until I get another chance.”

Callum shrugs. He, too, looks worried.

“And what about you, Callum?” presses Camilla. “I know how much you wanted to be in this picture.”

“It’s a funny thing,” admits Callum. “When I was deep in drugs, I didn’t care if I never acted again. But now James has given me this chance… I suppose I really do care, after all.”

He gives us both a little smile.

Callum looks so vulnerable, suddenly, like a little lost child. From what I’ve read, he’s gone through hell and back fighting his drug problem. He really deserves the chance to show what a great actor he is. I couldn’t stand it, if this chance was blown for him.

I feel a flash of anger at Natalie. How could anyone be so selfish?

“I’m sure it’s all a misunderstanding,” says Camilla, more to herself than anyone. “I can’t wait to meet Natalie,” she adds with an excited grin. “I’ve loved her since her very first movie.”

There’s a sudden shift in tone in the restaurant. The loud voices have all dropped to whispers, and the atmosphere feels super charged.

“Well,” says Callum, “it looks like you got your chance. Here comes Her Majesty. With all her courtiers.”

I twist around to see a tight huddle of people have entered the restaurant.

Then a tiny figure emerges from the centre.

“It’s Natalie!” whispers Camilla excitedly.

In real life, Natalie is miniscule. She’s only a little under average height, but her frame is no larger than a child’s. I’m guessing she might be even smaller than a size zero.

Next to me, I can feel Camilla tensing with excitement. She’s clearly a huge fan.

Natalie steps a little forward, surveying the restaurant. She wears a bold-print cotton dress, which hangs off her tiny frame, and hot-pink wedge heels, finishing in a strap around her tanned ankles.

She swings her head, but it’s impossible to see what she’s looking for, since a pair of huge sunglasses are balanced on her pixie nose. Her straight lips are highlighted in coral lipstick. And her hair, which had been dark, is now copper-coloured, hanging long and poker straight over her shoulders.

Natalie reaches up and removes the large glasses. I notice that her coral fingernails match her lipstick.

“Callum!” she calls, her eyes settling on him.

“Oh God,” mutters Callum. “Here she comes.”

Natalie sashays across the restaurant. Her entourage follow her at a slight distance, synchronised. It’s like a bizarre dance act, with only Natalie knowing the next step.