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Authors: Melissa Hill

BOOK: The Heartbreak Cafe
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I’ll keep an eye out,’ Emer was saying now, as she walked
Grainne back through to the front door, while Jess remained in the
garden, perplexed. She tried to get a handle on this for a second.
Not only had Emer refused her offer to baby-sit, but she’d also
lied outright about a party and decided not to invite her, while
knowing well that Brian was away and she was at a loose end. And
then to top it all off, today she’d been sniffy about Jess’s
earnings and had questioned her generosity.


So a late night last night then?’ she said evenly, when Emer
came back outside.


Yeah. It was one of those unexpected things, you
know.’


So you and Dave didn’t get your quiet night in after
all?’


No. Look Jess, I would have invited you but …’

There was
a heavy silence, and right then Jess understood that something
major had shifted in their friendship.


Well it’s just …it was more of a kids thing really, so I
didn’t think...’

Immediately Jess felt wounded. So she needed children to gain
a pass to her friend’s life these days?


Look I just thought it would be easier if you I didn’t …I mean
…’ The sentence trailed off, but Jess didn’t really need to hear
the rest.

Her heart
sank. Best friends or not, clearly Emer felt it was preferable to
cut her out of certain aspects of her life and keep her at arms’
length – simply because she wasn’t a member of that exclusive club
that lately, most of her friends seemed to have joined.

The mummy
club.

Chapter 3

Ruth
Seymour turned to admire herself in the full-length
mirror.

The
incredible low backed, silver Christian Dior dress she wore was
perfect for tonight. She looked like a star, sparkled the way a
diva should. Her long blonde hair cascaded past her shoulders in
luxurious waves, her blue eyes sparkled, her full lips were glossy,
and the dress she was wearing fit her size zero body like a glove.
Tonight was certainly not the night for basic black; she was not a
backup singer, and definitely not just part of the scenery. She was
Ruth Seymour, wildly successful star of US TV series Glamazons, who
was currently lighting up Hollywood like a supernova.

She
turned around and looked at her assistant, Chloe, who was typing on
her BlackBerry.


So, do I look OK?’ she inquired, already knowing the answer,
(she did pay Chloe after all) but still she needed the confidence
boost.


Oh you look fabulous, truly!’ Chloe exclaimed. ‘What shoes are
you wearing?’

Ruth
smiled. The answer was a stupendous pair of silver, jewelled Manolo
Blahniks that her stylist had just sent over. Thirteen hundred
dollars and she got them for nothing because of who she was. In
truth, Ruth preferred Louboutins, but apparently the designer
refused to give freebies. Oh well, it wasn’t as though she couldn’t
afford to buy them what with her agent now talking six figures per
episode of Glamazons. And bought them she had – several times
over.


Probably the Manolos,’ she replied airily, catching the look
of sheer envy on Chloe’s face when she pulled them out of their
dustcover and put one on her elegantly petite foot. Imagine walking
down the street in Lakeview wearing these? Their eyes would pop out
of their heads with envy!

Well,
perhaps she might just do that, Ruth thought, putting on the other
shoe and making a mental note to pack them in her suitcase later.
‘Remind me not to forget to bring these tomorrow, won’t you?’ she
asked Chloe.


Sure. Ready for champagne?’ Her assistant twisted the cork on
a bottle of Veuve Cliquot, which opened with a satisfactory ‘pop’
and Ruth grinned, deciding this was possibly her most favourite
sound in the world.


When was the last time you were home for a visit?’ Chloe
asked, handing her a glass.

Ruth took
a sip of champagne. ‘Oh, I don’t know, a few years, I guess,’ she
replied blithely. ‘I’ve just been so busy and it’s not exactly a
quick trip after all so I haven’t really had the time.’ She moved
in front of the mirror to again take in her appearance. ‘What time
does the car come?’

Chloe,
wisely taking the change of subject as an indicator that the issue
was closed for discussion, looked at her notes and told her boss
that the car would arrive at seven.

Actually,
Ruth knew exactly when she was last back in Ireland. It had been
five years and up until now, she’d avoided a return to her home
country like the plague. It wasn’t that she didn’t yearn to see her
family – she missed them terribly, and luckily they’d come to see
her in LA a few times – it was everyone else that was the problem.
She didn’t want to be judged, was terrified of being pitied or
worse, being called a failure. Not that she hadn’t been close
enough to drop in for a visit either; she never hesitated to travel
to Paris or holiday on the Riveria, but had never had any desire to
go back to Ireland and the sleepy little backwater in which she
grew up.

Until
now.

Ruth
smiled. Now, thanks to Glamazons, she was a huge success and it
wasn’t so hard to face your past when you were being celebrated.
Ruth was currently at the top of her game. The first season of the
TV show in which she starred – based around the glamorous and
fashionable lifestyles of Malibu’s elite – had been a huge ratings
success across the country and they’d just finished shooting Season
Two. There were murmurings of an Emmy nomination for her and one of
her co-stars, and the show had just been commissioned for a further
season, raising Ruth’s stock even higher and further certifying her
as a bona fide Hollywood star. The recent announcement was the
reason for the party she was attending tonight, and she had just
enough time to whoop it up before her flight to Dublin
tomorrow.

The pilot
of the show was just about to hit Irish TV screens, and she had
been invited to be interviewed on Late Tonight, the country’s most
high profile and best-loved chat show. Ruth had been over the moon
when she’d heard that; it was possibly the greatest honour she
could ask for, and a definite two fingers to all those in her home
country who had doubted her.

As
shooting on the next season of Glamazons wasn’t due to begin again
until the autumn, she planned to spend the summer in Lakeview with
her folks, making up for lost time and she thought happily, basking
in her well-earned success.

Besides,
she figured she’d earned a few months off. She’d been slogging hard
for years to try and make it to this level, and finally, finally,
it was all coming together the way it was supposed to
be.

Ruth had
known from a very young age that she was destined for stardom.
After all, she had always been attractive and her youthful
prettiness had never left her, instead transforming her into a
stunning woman. Even now at thirty years old, she didn’t have to
worry about botox and some of the other procedures that her
co-stars obsessed about. She had great genes and she knew
it.

Plus,
she’d always known she was a great actress and the past five years
had been incredibly hard for her, so she was thrilled to know that
people were finally recognizing her gift. Following early success
in Ireland on a home-grown TV soap called The Local, everyone back
home (including Ruth) had been convinced that the transition to
Hollywood was a certainty.

However,
upon landing in LA five years before she was immediately met as an
outsider and had been stuck for the first few years in dreaded
skincare commercials, as well as doing the odd, clichéd bit part as
the nice, funny Irish girl in straight-to-DVD movies. She wrinkled
her nose distastefully. Well, those days were over, Ruth knew it.
Now the sky was the limit.

Finally
ready to leave and excited for the rest of the evening to begin,
she felt completely relaxed when Chloe’s BlackBerry buzzed to
inform them that the car was downstairs.

Her
assistant picked up her notes, Ruth’s fur stole, and some other
various ‘things’ just in case and shuttled Ruth out the door of her
apartment and into the elevator.

Once
outside, they were met with a swarm of paparazzi waiting in front
of the building. The flashes from their cameras were blinding, but
Ruth didn’t care, she loved it, they wanted her! She smiled
beatifically and had to restrain herself from waving even though
every bone in her body wanted to wave like she was Miss America.
Instead she beamed and gave polite hellos, answered just a couple
of questions, and accepted many congratulations as her doorman
moved her through the crowd and into the waiting town
car.

Hmm, Ruth
thought, maybe it was time to start thinking about security or a
bodyguard? She relished the idea and didn’t understand how some
stars could complain about the constant photographers following
them around, it was wonderful! Besides, what was the point in being
famous if you didn’t enjoy the perks?

She
settled back into the rich leather of the backseat of the car while
Chloe sat next to her placing several advance phone calls to the
people at the party who were waiting for her arrival.

As they
neared the Beverly Hills Hotel, the driver inquired if he should
take Ruth to a side entrance, to avoid the crowds and Chloe began
to tell him that was a great idea, before Ruth quickly shushed
her.


Of course not, go straight to the front. After all, the fans
wait for hours to get a glimpse of the cast.’ She smiled, better to
have everyone think she was doing a public service as opposed to
feeding her ego. No one liked someone who was too into herself, and
Irish-born Ruth possibly understood that better than
most.

The
driver followed her command and pulled up in front of the hotel.
Ruth looked out of her window at the swarm of people waiting for
her to exit the car. Calling on her yoga-breathing exercises, she
inhaled deeply.

Showtime…

Chloe
handed her a mirror and she applied another coat of lip-gloss to
freshen her look, before again looking at her assistant for
affirmation.


Perfect. You look absolutely amazing.’ Chloe jumped out her
side of the car, and a uniformed man stepped forward and opened the
door on Ruth’s side.

Flashbulbs exploded all around as Ruth unfolded one long,
lean, graceful leg and extracted herself elegantly from the car,
making sure not to pull a Britney Spears. She started to glide up
the red carpet slowly, posing for pictures, thanking cheering fans,
basking in her glory. She planned on drawing out the fifty-foot
walk to the door of the hotel as long as possible.

Out of
the corner of her eye, she saw her co-star, Troy Valentine, who
played her ‘husband’ on the show. He was looking particularly yummy
tonight she thought, his black hair coiffed perfectly, smile
particularly white against his tan. Guess that’s what living in a
beach house will do for you, Ruth thought, and wondered if maybe it
was time to upgrade from her apartment in the Hollywood
Hills.

Troy
noticed her and nodded in her direction, as if to accompany her
inside. She gave him a warm smile, but didn’t pick up her pace; she
would see him inside later. Best now to pay attention to the people
that wouldn’t be; namely, the paparazzi and her adoring
public.

Inside,
the party was in full swing, and the Cristal was
flowing.

Ruth
could barely move without having someone rush up to offer
congratulations, and she truly felt like the belle of the ball.
Bob, the producer of Glamazons was making a huge fuss of her; as
were the network moguls and various others involved in the show.
The confidence boost made her felt incredibly witty and beautiful
and her charms were working to the max, or perhaps it was just the
champagne?

Regardless, it was very interesting to find Troy Valentine so
close at hand the entire night. Even thought they’d both worked on
Glamazons from the outset, Troy was already a well-established
Hollywood actor, while she was the relative unknown, and although
they had loads of chemistry onscreen she’d always felt a little
overawed by his star power.

But
thanks to her glamorous all-American portrayal of Mia Reynolds in
the show, Ruth was now just as much of a draw, and as Troy leaned
closer to whisper something in her ear, she figured he was
beginning to understand that too.


You look incredible, tonight, you know that?’ he said, his
warm velvety tones and the delicious scent of his aftershave
sending shivers down her spine.

Troy, who
typically had the most beautiful women in the world on his arm,
tonight seemed to only have eyes for her and while she thought he
was handsome, he didn’t come across as the sharpest tool in the
box.

Still, a
little off screen flirtation couldn’t hurt her standing; it wasn’t
as if either of them was married and more to the point, the
tabloids would love it.


Why thank you,’ she said, gazing flirtatiously from beneath
her eyelashes. Then she smiled at him and whispered something in
return. ‘Excuse me, but I’ll be right back.’ She headed towards the
ladies room, briefly looking over her shoulder to make sure he was
looking. He was.

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