He didn’t bring it up, either.
Goldie needed to get back to her life, or else she’d have no life to get back to. Hedda was right. The iron was hot. And she had been around long enough to know, when it happened, you jumped.
Chapter Twenty-One
Goldie
She’d said hasty goodbyes… all over the phone. It was easier that way. She’d dropped into the lives of her old friends out of nowhere, and now, she’d dropped back out.
Goldie tried not to feel like she’d abandoned them. In truth, she didn’t know what her obligation to her friends really was. Did she owe them more? All she could manage were swift, non-dramatic conversations. She was cutting ties that were merely temporary to begin with.
She had made Irish Hills better, she hoped, while she was there.
And there was Joe, in the hotel she owned, still working on the projects they’d agreed on. She didn’t say goodbye to him. They’d just left it all open.
Or maybe it was closed. He went back to his work, and she went back to hers. He didn’t try to stop her. She was grateful for that. Clingy was not attractive.
She wondered what Joe would think of her Trousdale house.
It was pristine, not a dust bunny to be found. And certainly not a raccoon. But Myrna, her sweet, spoiled doggie was there. That’s all she needed. Her puppy, her mansion, and the power to bend studio heads to her will. So little to ask for.
Goldie had been home two days. But she felt off, like she wasn’t quite herself. She took phone calls. She read industry news. She even indulged in reading about the demise of Trevor Sunday’s career. The story of his incompetence on set wasn’t news to her, but it was interesting to see that she wasn’t the only one who noticed.
She also had a friend she didn’t expect. The makeup artist who had witnessed Trevor ask Goldie to film the degrading scene, where Greased Lightning was supposed to fall on top of her, had shared that story. Victor Superhero Universe fans were outraged that Trevor Scott would try to make Steely Ann look like a clown, and her fellow actresses were praising her for refusing to do it.
But the victory over Victor would have been sweeter, if shared with her friends. She could almost hear J.J. demanding a high five. She had started to feel more at home in the back bedroom of the Two Lakes Grove than she did in the primary suite of her mansion, which was large enough to land a helicopter in.
Maybe because it was quiet. Too quiet. And empty. Her house, in the late summer in L.A., managed to be cold. And Myrna loved her, but the dog had boundaries, and got grumpy with too much fussing.
Tally had arranged for a new driver and security, as Goldie had instructed. Tally had also turned in her resignation.
“I loved working for you, but I didn’t know how long you’d be gone. So, I floated my name out there.”
“It’s okay, I understand. I didn’t know either.”
“But I don’t start the tour until next month. I’ll do everything I can to make sure you’re all set.”
“I appreciate it, and it will be a blast.”
Tally was young. Going on tour with a rock band would be fun. She’d been hired as an assistant to the tour manager. It sounded like pure hell to Goldie, but then Goldie was not young, and now, as she closed in on fifty, she realized she was positively ancient.
Except, when she was back home, in Irish Hills, she didn’t feel so ancient.
Home? Her mind had switched home from her mansion in California to her beat-up hotel in Michigan. That wasn’t home. What in the world?
As she paced, her standard method of dealing with things, she realized what control of her career could really mean. She realized what she wanted before she went to Irish Hills wasn’t the same as what she wanted now.
She had new demands. And if Hedda was right, she could get exactly what she wanted.
Goldie had prepped all morning for the lunch with her new prospective agent.
Goldie wore a designer dress, a short bodycon number in mango. She paired it with nude, sky high Louboutins. She’d look fierce in photos, and she knew there would be photos. She counted on it. She looked down at the fancy shoes and laughed. A memory of Joe raising his eyebrow at her wardrobe popped in her head.
Goldie had Tally accompany her to the restaurant for the meeting. But only for appearances. Tally was there to make Goldie look like she had an entourage. Tally was her people. This was a role she was playing, of the movie star.
Tally had already tipped off the paparazzi, at Goldie’s request, that she was going to be lunching with a power player. She evenencouraged Tally to collect the bounty that was offered for Goldie Hayes sightings. If people were going to snitch to the press where she was, it might as well be on her own terms.
Her new driver pulled up to the entrance of The Ivy. He assisted Goldie, and then Tally scurried around the car from the other door to make it look like they were in a huge hurry. She also parted the way for Goldie, as if she couldn’t get through without a team of people. A scrum of paparazzi surged forward as she tried to enter the restaurant.
