“I, yeah, I am. I need to get home, get a drink maybe, call my agent. Wait, he just dropped me.”
On the drive back to Goldie’s exclusive Trousdale neighborhood, they looked at Twitter and read headlines deriding Goldie Hayes.
“Ms. Hayes, what do you want me to do here?” Hollis said.
The women peaked out of the tinted window at the drive to Goldie’s estate. About two dozen Victor Superhero Universe fans were there, with signs and chanting the same stupid thing.
“We can’t go in there,” Libby said.
“I need to get out of town,” Goldie said.
She was finding her voice again. That was good. Her friend had been stunned by the turn of events. But she was rallying.
“Where to?” Hollis asked.
“Chateau Marmont, I can hold up in a bungalow,” Goldie said. “Tally, we’re going to drop you off next door. Ellen’s staff knows you. You can sneak around to my place. I need you to pack for me.”
“What do you need?”
“The standard two-week stuff, like I had for Cannes last year.”
“Got it.”
Hollis drove one spot over, and Tally exited.
By the time they got to the Chateau Marmont in West Hollywood, Goldie was more tiger than deer in headlights. She was mad. Libby saw this as a good sign.
“I cannot believe that little snake, cannot believe it. My career is up in flames over one bro dude director. It’s outrageous. I wonder if I should callVariety. Offer my side?”
She was throwing a million ideas out. It was a spaghetti fling of P.R. campaigns, and Libby mostly just listened. Goldie needed to burn off the adrenaline of the last few hours being under attack. She wiggled her foot at the ankle, pent-up energy struggling to find release in the back of the SUV.
Finally, they made it to the hotel. Hollis dropped them off with orders from Goldie to go back to get Tally.
Libby didn’t want her friend to be alone, so she walked up to the lobby with Goldie.
Goldie approached the desk.
“My usual bungalow, thank you.”
She didn’t need to introduce herself. She probably never did anywhere on the planet.
“It will be just a moment, Ms. Hayes. Can we get you a drink?”
“Yes, vodka and soda, a double. My nerves are shot. Libby, you?”
“Yep, sounds good.”
“We’ll be by the pool.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I stayed here after I won the Oscar and after I broke up with Drake. It’s a good hideout.”
Libby knew there was quite a history to the place and was amazed at how sort of dingy it looked. But whatever, if Goldie felt safe, that was key.
It took less than two minutes for that safety to evaporate.
“GET GOLDIE GONE!!”
