Starring Me and You Page 2

  I pushed open the door to the most beautiful office I'd ever seen. However, it wasn't the massive library, the potted plants or the crystal chandelier that got my attention. It was Elena herself. She was leaning against her desk with her arms folded, dressed in a simple but expensive looking white shirt and pencil skirt combo. She beckoned me forward with a perfectly manicured finger. Her face was thin and sharp, perfectly painted with soft pink cheeks and lips and long black eyelashes.

  "Sit down Darcy." she said, gesturing to the chair in front of her desk.

  "Yes ma'am," I said. She rolled her eyes and didn't comment. I took my seat and she took hers across from me. Her startling ice green eyes went straight through me and made me feel about an inch tall.

  "There's a coffee stain on your top," she said coldly, her eyes fixating on a tiny brown dot on the shoulder of my blouse.

  "Oh!" I said, feeling horrified. I licked my finger and attempted to rub it off but Elena stopped me.

  "Please, let the dry cleaners deal with it. I'm just giving you a heads up."

  I let my hands fall by my side as Elena sank back into the soft velvet of her chair. I couldn't afford to get comfortable. I knew in a few moments I'd have to put all of my energy into not bursting into tears. My big brother Alex had always called me a cry baby. He wasn’t wrong.

  "Thank you," I mumbled.

  "Can I get you a drink?" Elena asked. "Coffee, a soda maybe? I usually have herbal tea myself, I'm trying to cut down on caffeine."

  Her botoxed face just about managed a smile. I would accept any shred of kindness that she offered me.

  "Herbal tea sounds divine." I said, blushing at my own hyperbole. The closest I'd ever gotten to tea was the sugary sweet tea that Mama made in the summer. Even so, maybe Elena's herbal concoction would be comforting.

  I watched in awe as Elena called the blue haired girl in and she placed two cups of tea onto the desk before being dismissed. I'd been here half a year and no one had even bothered to offer me a glass of water. Was this Elena's typical firing protocol? Warming people up with a hot beverage before she crushed their dreams into dust? It seemed especially cruel. Maybe it would be kinder to literally scream ‘you’re fired!’ as soon as I stepped through the door and have me removed by security. Quick and to the point.

  Simone, the blue haired girl, closed the double doors behind her and we were alone again. I watched Elena take a long sip of her tea and felt my heart hammering.

  "Now," she said, putting down her drink, "I expect you're wondering what I called you in for Darcy."

  "Yes, I am." I said. I hadn't intended for my voice to come out like a mouse squeak but that was the way it happened.

  She forced another smile.

  "You're not going to throw up, are you? You've gone awfully white," she said. Her voice had a slight British twang. Was she British, or just well traveled? She had a wedding ring. Maybe her husband was British. I shook my head.

  "No ma'am." Throwing up was a definite possibility. I figured the potted plant in the corner would have to do if it came to it.

  "Well first you should know that you're not in trouble. You haven't done anything wrong, except messing up a few drink orders or so I've heard, but that doesn't really matter. God, the way some of these journalists act you'd swear they don't have the upper body strength to make their own god damn coffee.” she said. I gave a nervous giggle. The tension in my body lessoned a little. She'd said it herself. I wasn't in trouble.

  "Respectfully Miss Elena, then what did you call me up for?" I asked.

  Elena bit her lip. Suddenly she began to look just as nervous as I was feeling.

  "I have a job that needs doing and I think you're the only person in this building who has a chance of doing it right," she said

  "Me?" I asked. I couldn't help but add, "Is it a writing job? Because I don't just do reviews, back when I wrote for the college magazine they had me doing all kinds of stuff..."

  "-No, no not that kind of job," she said.

  "Oh," it took me a minute to process what she was saying. I couldn't stop myself from visibly deflating, "Does the water cooler need fixing or something? I can have a look at it for you but I might not be able to help. That thing is always on the fritz. You might just have to buy a new one."

  Elena laughed in my face, clutching her bell as if I'd made the funniest joke she'd ever heard.

  "The water cooler! Good god, no sweetheart! This is an important job! A job that a lot of people would kill for!" she suddenly became serious, "But by no means will it be easy. God, you'll probably wish you were fixing the water cooler once I tell you what it is."

  "Gosh Miss Elena," I stuttered. She smiled.

  "You have such a charming accent."

  "Thanks. But can you tell me what it is you want me to do? I'm getting kinda nervous..."

  "Of course. Tell me, Darcy, have you heard of the actor Nate McCoy?" she asked. Had I heard of him? Who hadn't heard of him? Like I said, Nate McCoy was only the biggest action star of the last five years. His movies usually had a ton of shooting, fighting and half naked babes for him to fall in love with. They weren't exactly my thing but I'd enjoyed going to see him with my girlfriends. We enjoyed his muscles and good looks more than his performance. He was a fantasy boy, the kind of boy who in real life wouldn't touch me with a ten foot pole. But when I watched his movies sometimes I pretended that I was the half naked babe who he took in his arms and carried off into the sunset.

  "Yes, I've heard of him," I said, “We were just talking about him downstairs a few minutes ago.”

  "Really? I suppose you saw his little indiscretion with Tasha. If that girl could stop showing that god dam video to everyone maybe her giant ego might have a few seconds to deflate! And I expect you've heard about his...hmm, how shall I put this? His reputation?" she raised one eyebrow. If there was anything Nate McCoy was known for it was his partying. Judging by what I'd read in the tabloids Nate liked his booze, his drugs and he especially liked his women. It wasn't a real movie premier if he didn't stumble out of a limo with a couple of blondes in tow.

  "He's kind of a party animal?" I said. Elena nodded slowly.

  "He's kind of a liability. I don't know if you know this Darcy but you can get away with a lot if you're rich and a hell of a lot more when you're famous, but Nate still manages to go over the line," Elena looked around before lowering her voice and leaning into me, "This stays between you and me but there's been a lot of stuff that his management have just about covered up. Sex tapes. Lots of them. Some of them including some other very high profile actresses."

  Elena mouthed a few names and my eyes widened.

  "Wow," I said, "Aren't some of those girls married?"

  "Yes. That doesn't seem to faze Nate. But worse, there are videos of illegal drug taking and some serious vandalism. He'd probably manage to wiggle his way out of doing time but I've seen this kind of stuff ruin careers. Everyone loves a bad boy but only to a certain extent. I've met Nate and he's good at turning on the charm, but he's stubborn. He does what he wants and doesn't give a shit how it effects people," she said, "His new movie is set for release in three months. It's a romantic drama about two childhood best friends that meet again in their twenties and fall in love. One of them has cancer or something, it’s all very touching I’m sure."

  "Sounds original," I said. Elena gave a small chuckle at my sarcasm.

  "Citizen Kane it ain't. But this movie is set to make a lot of money for a lot of people," she said, "We can't late Nate fuck that up. He needs an image makeover. A wholesome image makeover."

  I was still confused.

  "But Elena...what has all this got to do with me?" I asked. Elena gave a devious smile.

  "Well, I've been contacted by Nate's management team who have been very good to us over the years. We've gotten first dibs on interviews and some photo shoots that have really helped us to shift copies of the magazine. People can't get enough of Nate McCoy. So as I'm sure you can understand, this re
lationship with his management is very important to maintain."

  "Of course." I didn't understand, not at all but it didn't seem pertinent to ask questions.

  “So we won’t be publishing Tasha’s video, to begin with. That’s not news,” she said. I couldn’t help but feel happy that Tasha didn’t have the big scoop after all.

  "Nate's spending the next few months in his mansion in the Hills and he's been advised to lay low. If he was a normal, responsible adult then that would be that and no one would have to worry about a thing. But as you know that's not the case. Nate's management were thinking that perhaps a chaperone might help. Someone intelligent and grounded...someone who won't act as a distraction and instead will help him to focus...a good influence," she was staring at me intently and my mouth went dry. I knew exactly what she was suggesting now but I needed to hear her say it.

  "You want me to babysit Nate McCoy for three months?" I said, and Elena nodded eagerly.

  "So what do you say, Darcy?"

  Well, what could I say?

  Hopefully it would be a better job than fixing the water cooler, but I wasn’t so sure.

  Nate

  I fell asleep on my leather sofa and woke up to the sound of my buzzer going over and over again. My phone said 10 missed calls but I didn't pay any attention. Management always had their panties in a twist over something I'd done or said or someone I'd offended. I was good at ignoring them. Fuck, I would have ignored the buzzer if it was possible to put it on silent. But fuck, man, who ever was ringing it was fucking determined.

  "Nate? Nate answer me! You better not be hung over!" Head of the team was Sheila, a real hard faced bitch. Things had been good when she first got the job and we screwed around, but she'd gotten married and put up with way less of my shit. I could win her round with my sweet talk if I wanted to but I wasn’t feeling sweet lately.

  "His majesty will not be seeing anyone today," I replied in my best butler voice. God damn it, I was hilarious. “And I’m not hung over. I’m in twelve steps now, remember?”

  It was true, I hadn’t. Sheila didn't think I was funny. Most of my team thought that once I got sober I’d stop with the antics. Turned out stirring shit up was just in my nature.

  "Nate McCoy if you don't buzz us up right now I am quitting, do you understand? Quitting! And good luck finding anyone else to put up with this shit! I’ve been calling you for hours, you idiot!" she yelled. It was bullshit, of course. Sheila wouldn’t quit. She’d scale the fifteen foot iron gate at the front of my house before she gave up on me. It was admirable in a way.

  "Jeez, I was just kidding. Come on up." I buzzed them in. What was this about? Another meeting with the legal team, maybe. Whatever it was, it must be important because Sheila couldn’t wait the two minutes it would take to pull into the driveway to tell me. She called my cell phone and this time I answered it.

  A baby sitter. I was twenty eight years old and had been a millionaire since I was twenty two and management figured I needed a fucking babysitter. I'd like the idea at first. Maybe she could wear pigtails and a cheerleader uniform and bend over lots. It might not be so bad that way. Sheila assured me that my having fun was the least of her concern.

  "No, we are not getting you some bimbo who you can use as a fuck toy. We have chosen someone educated and smart and responsible, "I could hear the smirk when she added, "And plain. A plain every day mousy girl who won't manage to get your motor running. We know your type and that's exactly the type we're avoiding."

  Then she paused. I heard her say “No offense, sweetheart,” to whoever she was with.

  Well shit, who knew I was that predictable. Sure, there was a standard blow up doll blonde with big tits that I took to events but I was a man of varied tastes. I''d fucked my way around the world and had a little taste of every cuisine. Every kind of pussy was good pussy to me.

  I opened my front door to see what I was working with. Sheila guided her in. I was taken aback. This girl definitely was not LA material. It was evident from her soft curves that she liked a burger and maybe a milkshake with it. Her hips were round and soft looking. She was smaller on top, with dainty shoulders, relatively full breasts and a small waist. Her hair was ash blonde and fell beneath her shoulders. Her eyes were brown and her lashes were long, doe like. I could work with this. Fucking hell, I could work with this. She had the kind of beauty of a pin up model from the fifties. Fresh face, white teeth, killer body. Just my type.

  She must have noticed me looking her up and down because she pulled her cardigan over her chest self consciously.

  "Hello there." I said, winking at her. She looked away shyly but I could see her blushing.

  "Nate, this is Darcy. She's been very kind and volunteered to keep you company while you're in the city. You're going to treat her with respect and listen to her, ok? She has a degree in psychology," said Sheila. Darcy piped up.

  "Journalism, actually." she mumbled. Her accent was adorable and sexy as hell at the same time.

  Sheila rolled her eyes at me but I smiled at Darcy.

  "Of course. Journalism," she said, pulling out her cell phone, "Now, I've got a meeting and I'll arrange for someone to drop by with the rest of your stuff Darcy. Nate, be nice!"

  "You're going?" asked Darcy, starting to look panicked, "I didn't know you would be leaving so soon."

  "Yeah Sheila, why don't you stay? We can crack open a few beers and maybe have a threesome?" I teased. Sheila just about growled at me.

  "I'm busy tonight. Look sweetie, you have my number ok? I know this job isn't for everyone. God knows I can't fucking do it. If there are any problems just give me a call and someone will pick you up right away."

  Christ, she was talking about me like I was a dangerous animal. Maybe I was

  Darcy straightened herself up.

  "That won't be necessary, but thank you so much for bringing me here," for the first time she looked me in the eyes and I felt a tingle through my body. "I'm sure Nate and I will get along."

  "I'm sure we will." I said. I would make sure that we did as if my life depended on it.

  Darcy

  Nate McCoy was hotter in person. It was one thing seeing him on a giant screen surrounded by other beautiful people. He still stood out. But in real life? He looked like a superhero. Like Clark Kent and Danny Zucko had a baby and the baby grew up to be the most gorgeous douche bag I’d ever met. His hair was tousled, his eyes a sparkling green and his body lean, but muscular. His arms looked strong. He was so beautiful he didn’t seem real.

  And all he wanted to do was fuck with me.

  As soon as his assistant left us alone together it happened. Sheila had warned me that it would, but I hadn't quite believed her. She'd made me sign a contract that actually stated I would not get paid if I slept with him.

  “How would you even know if I did?” I had joked. She'd remained stony faced.

  “Trust me. Nate isn't subtle.”

  He turned on the charm as soon as she left.

  “Wow, so are you an early birthday present or what?” he said, looking me up and down. My skin flared red.

  “No, not at all. Um would you mind showing me where I'll be staying? I have a couple bags to unpack and I need to freshen up.”

  He hooked his fingers into his belt hooks and winked at me.

  “Sure baby, I'll show you whatever you want to see.”

  Nate insisted on giving me a tour of the house. It really was breathtaking but I tried not to sound too impressed. It had twenty two rooms in total, four bathrooms, three living rooms, a bar, a rec room and bedrooms upon bedrooms upon bedrooms.

  “This is my main living room,” he said. “It's all right.”

  It was all right. If his version of all right included hardwood floors, exposed brick walls and a cream rug between his leather couch and flat screen TV.

  “The sofa is nice.” I said. Mama had always taught me to compliment something about people's houses. It was polite. Unfortunately, Nate wasn't.


  “Yeah, the real leather’s nice but it can feel a lil’ uncomfortable on bare skin if you know what I mean.”

  “I got my sofa on Craigslist and their was a family of opossums living in it.” I said, desperate to change the subject. Nate was playing with me like a cat messing with a mouse before he killed it. He laughed at me and guided me to the bathroom.

  “You’re such an innocent country girl. I like that. You’d look great in a little cowgirl outfit too. I can see it now, cowboy hat, tiny little skirt, low cut top.”

  I bit my lip. Telling him to fuck off probably wouldn’t be a good start.

  The bathroom was more of the same. Beautiful tiling that wouldn't be out of place in an ancient Greek bathhouse. An embedded jacuzzi that Nate insisted that I should try out when I got the chance. There was also a gorgeous shower.

  “Wow, you could fit like twenty people in there,” I said.

  Nate shrugged.

  “I've only had about ten in there so far, but I haven't been here that long.”

  Jesus. The rumors about Nate being a man whore were true.

  “You get good water pressure?” I asked desperately.

  “Yeah. I can show you if you want,” he said.

  “I'm quite all right, thank you.”

  Getting through the kitchen was quicker. A fridge filled with untouched drinks I've never heard of and a few cartons of egg whites. His appliances were all slick black and expensive, obviously unused. His cupboards had a little more in the way of food. Half a bag of chips a few microwave meals. I guessed that I would have to do the cooking. That would be okay.

  Finally, we got to my room. Nate opened the door for me.

  “Here we are. Your very own room. Guess I should leave you unpack, unless you want help putting away your underwear and stuff.”

  “I don't, thank you.”

  “Oh?” he said, raising one eyebrow, “You didn’t bring any? I like that too.”