Not Talented in Hollywood: Not in Hollywood Book 3 Page 14

  That morning I had promised Griffin’s father that I would take him to pick up his car from the mechanic. When I got to his house, the front door was unlocked. Here was another difference between Griffin and I. He would knock on the door and wait for his father to open it. Lee had told me that if he wanted to keep me out he would lock the door. As far as I was concerned, that was a perfectly acceptable way for family to be around each other, so I just walked right on in. Some days I thought I had a better relationship with Lee than his own son did.

  “I hope you’re up old man. I’ve got to go to work,” I yelled out as I walked down the hallway. Seeing Lee in the kitchen I was surprised at the strained look on his face. I was more surprised that he wasn’t alone. This was probably one of the reasons why Griffin didn’t just walk into his dad’s house.

  “Sorry,” I apologized. “I probably should have knocked.”

  “That’s fine sweetheart,” Lee said gently.

  The woman sitting at Lee’s kitchen table turned around and looked up at me. My breath caught sharply. I knew those eyes. An hour ago those eyes had woken me up.

  “This is Jake’s mother,” Lee said softly. “Angela, this is Trudie, Jake’s girlfriend.”

  So this was the heartless woman who walked out on her baby boy and left him unable to tell me he loved me. See, I’m not judgmental at all.

  “So you’re seeing my son.” Angela raked her eyes up to the minimal effort pony tail and down to my flat heeled sensible shoes, taking in the high necked shirt and shapeless pants I was wearing. I could see I hadn’t made a favorable first impression. Hey, I was with her. Even I normally didn’t dress like this, but tonight I was working with a filmmaker in a strip club. I needed to be looking as little like the ladies on stage as I could. If that meant I looked like an escapee from an Amish farm, then that was the way I was going. Angela on the other hand had the kind of perfect beauty that only came from great genetics and expensive upkeep.

  “Angela is here because she wants to see Jake,” Lee said shortly.

  Oh, that was not going to work out well. Griffin did not deal well with mothers. He never spoke about the fact that he had a mother. My petite mom who lived on the other side of the world, scared him to death and we are talking about a big burly cop. He refused to answer my phone just in case it was my mother calling. He accidentally answered it once and Mom went into her mama bear mode. I think it may have scarred him for life. She isn’t all that fond of him because she thinks he puts me in dangerous situations and that he blackmailed me with deportation back to Australia once. That second part is true which makes it worse. Unfortunately I get myself into dangerous situations. I could see Lee was unhappy with the situation as well.

  I plastered on one of my plastic smiles that I use for work, when some overindulged celebrity is screaming at me for not reading their mind. “That’s nice.”

  Lee’s features tightened and Angela just stared as if there was something wrong with me.

  “I’ll come back when we can talk,” Angela said shortly and got up and left.

  When the front door slammed, both Lee and I winced.

  “Griffin’s not going to take this well,” I warned Lee. “Why does she want to see him now?”

  “I have no idea.” Lee shook his head and started clearing the table of mugs. I put a hand on his arm.

  “Are you holding up okay?” I asked gently.

  Lee slumped in a chair. “She walked out on me thirty years ago, walked out on us. When I saw her at the door I had trouble breathing. I don’t understand. I thought I was over it ages ago.”

  “You loved her once and she betrayed and deserted you.”

  “Don’t hold back,” Lee said wryly.

  “You have to remember that because if you don’t, your memory will start forgetting the bad things she did and you’ll only remember the good times.”

  Lee looked at me with surprise etched on his face. “You are the last person in this world that I would think would be against love.”

  “I’m not against love,” I said. “I’m against having your heart ripped out and stomped on while somebody whistles a merry tune.”

  “You really have an interesting way of looking at the world.” Lee smiled fondly at me.

  “You ready to go?” I asked.

  “You going to tell me why you look like you’re heading for a convent?”

  “Not today.”

  I was fully aware that if I told Lee about the strip club assignment, Griffin would know in less than thirty seconds. If I could help it, that was not going to happen.

  Several hours later I was reminded why I hadn’t told Griffin about my working at this particular bar. When I had started working with Alastair at ‘Hammy’s Gentleman’s Club’ I had made the mistake of wearing my normal personal assistant attire. Unfortunately, some of the more regular clientele had assumed that I was one of the new girls going for a sexy librarian look, and that I would start the stripping at any moment if they waved enough cash in my general direction. Since then, every day my dress had become more and more conservative, until today’s fine effort, which I personally thought should make me seem completely sexless to the men that frequented this club. Unfortunately, as usual, it seemed that I had severely underestimated a horny man’s capacity to spot a pair of breasts, no matter how well hidden they were. Waiting at the bar I had been cornered by one of the customers and as usual my boss was nowhere to be seen. This shoot was seen as more of an undercover documentary. The crew consisted of Alistair, myself and a cameraman who seemed to end up in the stripper’s dressing room on a regular basis. Most of the cameras were stationary and hidden around the club. Alistair was famous for what he termed his covert style filmmaking. To my way of thinking, this was fine when you were dealing with crooked corporations and corrupt politicians. I was having trouble with the reasoning for using it in a strip club. I would have thought that the people who frequented places like this would have an expectation of privacy. But no, Alastair was always trying to push the envelope with his work. He was seen as a radical filmmaker, willing to tackle subject matter that the rest of the industry found slightly distasteful. The critics called him brilliant. I had my own words to describe the man.

  “So sweetheart, how much for a lap dance?” my charming companion slurred.

  Before I could answer a voice came from behind me.

  “Way more than you’re willing to pay buddy.”

  I didn’t even need to turn around to know who was talking. On the fifth day that we had been filming here, I had noticed Travis Cooper, investigator to the stars, hunched over in the back of the bar. He had been following the husband of one of his clients, to get the goods for a very messy upcoming divorce. The look of surprise on Travis’s face when he saw me joking with some of the waitresses as if we were old friends, was a sight that I will always cherish.

  My companion took one look at Travis towering over the both of us and obviously decided that my well hidden charms were not enough to risk life and limb. He shuffled off, muttering into his beer. I didn’t feel sorry for him. I’d seen him in the bar before. When he got drunk, he got generous. I could already see one of the girls had accurately determined his level of inebriation and was heading in his direction.

  “You still coming in here?” I asked turning around. “I thought your case was finished.”

  “It is sweetheart,” Travis said raising a glass to his mouth. “Just thought I’d come in here on my time off, take in a show.”

  “Really?” I raised an eyebrow. “You’re telling me that, considering the number of strip clubs that you invariably visit while chasing after cheating men.”

  “And women,” Travis interrupted.

  “And women,” I agreed. “You’re telling me that you enjoy spending time in these places even when you are not working.”

  “Not exactly,” admitted Travis.

  “Then why are you here?” I asked.

  “I’m waiting for the moment when you finally
succumb to the lure of the bright lights and take to the stage,” Travis said, looking up to where the current dancer was doing an energetic turn on the pole.

  “Keep hoping there cowboy,” I said wryly.

  “I always do,” Travis said. “So why are you out here, instead of backstage with your boss, doing whatever it is that you do?”

  I looked at the man sourly. “I was sent out to chase after one of the girls that he’d manage to insult.”

  “Strippers deal with drunk jerks all the time. They develop a bit of a thick skin,” said Travis. “What the hell did he say that upset one of them?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, irritated with the situation. “The man is gifted at being rude to everyone he meets. The first day I met him, he told me that my eyes were too close together. I mean seriously, did he need to bring that to my attention?”

  Travis looked deeply at my eyes. “They don’t look too close together,” he said, holding my gaze for longer than I felt was absolutely necessary.

  “Don’t tell me that,” I said. “Tell the man who has managed to reduce several of the women working here to tears due to his insensitivity.”

  “So, where is the woman he upset?” Travis asked.

  I shrugged. “Probably looking for a gun. I tried to calm her down but she just seemed to get more hysterical. I have a really bad feeling that Alistair may be sleeping with some of the girls.”

  “Why do you say that?” asked Travis.

  “Just lately, I’ve been getting a bit of a weird vibe from some of them and he’s been having some meetings with the manager that I keep getting locked out of.”

  “You want to be in on the meetings with the guy who manages this place?” Travis asked.

  I saw his point. Hammy Pollard had tweaked every single one of my female defenses the second I met him. The man had been the owner of Hammy’s for decades, but I am sure there is a way to do that without exuding the sleaziness that this man did. I had been introduced to him the day we started and his first action was to rake me head to toe, as if calculating the amount of money I could bring into his business on a nightly basis.

  “No, but they’ve been yelling at each other behind closed doors. Considering the way this deal is worked out, they both need each other. Alistair needs access to the place and permission for his cameras and Hammy, from what I’ve heard, needs the money,” I said.

  “What do you mean, by what you’ve heard?” Travis asked.

  “The girls talk and I listen. Hammy has got some major debts to unsavory people. The girls say that he is working them harder, trying to push them further as to what they will actually do.”

  “You know Trudie, there is a reason you get into trouble. You need to learn to keep your nose out of other people’s business, especially when you are in a place like this. People who work here and come here do not like having someone poking around in their affairs.” Travis had a worried look on his face.

  “This from the man who spends his life poking around in other people’s affairs,” I said quietly. “I’m not asking for information, I just listen. Some of these girls just want to talk to someone who is actually paying attention to them.”

  “I thought the documentary filmmaker was supposed to be doing that, you know, going behind the scenes, finding out the gritty realism,” Travis said.

  I snorted. “Alistair wants his name in lights. He doesn’t really care who he has to trample to get there.”

  “Speaking of which,” Travis said. “I think that’s your boss trying to get your attention.”

  I looked over and sure enough, there was Alistair glaring at me.

  “See you later,” I said to Travis, before heading off to whatever new torture Alistair had waiting for me.

  “I don’t pay you to flirt with the customers,” he hissed as I walked up to him.

  Technically speaking, he didn’t pay me at all. His manager had hired me, through my boss, Monique Petit, to keep an eye on him and try to smooth the ruffled feathers that he invariably caused.

  “You told me that my services were no longer required and that I should comfort your interview subject, who had become distraught due to your line of questioning,” I reminded him. Of course I was using much more professional language than he had.

  “Well, where is she?” barked Alistair.

  “She was extremely upset and wanted to be alone. She asked to be excused from filming for the rest of the day,” I said.

  To be perfectly honest, she had suggested that he put the camera somewhere that would prove very uncomfortable if not anatomically improbable. Of course I wasn’t going to tell the man who thought that he was the greatest filmmaker alive that. Usually I find in these cases that honesty is a pointless exercise.

  “I need you to speak to the dominatrix. She is still refusing to be on camera without her mask,” Alistair grumbled.

  “I’ve already tried talking to her,” I said. “She is adamant that her face never appear on camera.”

  “Well I need you to change her mind, that’s what I pay you for,” he snarled.

  Once again I had to stop myself from reminding him that he didn’t pay me at all.

  Heading towards the back rooms I heard some familiar yelling. Rounding the corner I found Hammy with one of the girls pinned up against the wall in a threatening manner.

  “What do you want?” he snapped at me.

  “Alistair asked that I speak to Amber,” I said indicating the young woman he had cornered.

  “She’s busy,” he snapped.

  This was where my negotiating skills needed to come in.

  I shrugged in what I hoped was a nonchalant manner. “I have got an overwrought filmmaker out there,” I said, hoping I was putting the correct amount of stress into my voice. “I am trying very hard to make sure that he doesn’t pull out of this deal. You know how much money we all stand to lose if he decides to walk.”

  I could see that got through to him, the mention of money usually did. He stepped back.

  “We’ll be discussing this later,” he growled at Amber as she walked past him.

  I followed her quietly back to the dressing room.

  “Thanks for that,” she said, as she sat at a mirror and started putting on makeup.

  I sat down next to her. “I wasn’t lying, Alistair does want me to try to talk you into being in the film without your mask on.”

  “It’s not going to happen,” Amber said quietly.

  “I know,” I said, “but I had to ask. It’s my job.”

  “You’ve got a jerk for a boss,” she said.

  “Your boss isn’t exactly Prince Charming either,” I replied.

  “That’s the truth,” Amber said. “I just need to get enough money together to get out of here. I just want somewhere that I can be safe. I just want a home that can’t be taken away.”

  “What’s Hammy pushing you for?” I asked.

  “He wants me to do more for the customers, give them a bit more of the fantasy.” She turned to me. “I came up with the dominatrix act so that I could at least keep a bit of distance between me and them. I hate that I’ve ended up here but I can’t seem to find my way out. The problem is Hammy tells me that the way to make more money is to do more, show more.”

  I nodded, trying to understand. The one thing that I’d realized talking to these women over the last couple of weeks, most of them were exactly like me. Sometimes the smallest things can lead you down a different path. Amber was a smart girl, trying to survive the best way she knew how. She’d ended up working for Hammy, but so far she had managed to do it on her own terms. The dominatrix act she had come up with was pure theater. It appealed to the clients but it also allowed her a measure of control that some of the other girls didn’t have.

  Later as I watched Amber on stage I could see her talent. She was athletic and she had a presence. She was able to promise much but only seemed to have to deliver a small amount. I had told Alistair that she was never going to take the mask off
for him. He had reacted with his usual temper. Finally he realized that yelling at me wasn’t going to work at all. I was then informed that I needed to put my time into sitting in a back booth of the bar transcribing some of his riveting thoughts on the stripping industry and how it could be used as a metaphor for the American economy. To be perfectly honest I had no idea where he was going with this, but I would never be paying to watch this movie, so it really didn’t make much of a difference to me.

  After spending an hour trying to type on my laptop while there was pounding music going on in the background and cheering drunk men around me, I soon decided that I needed to find a new location. Travis, who had continued to lurk around the bar sat down in the booth next to me.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “I am about to try to find somewhere quiet to work. I think I might go out the back.” I started packing up my laptop.

  “Can I keep you company?” Travis asked.

  “Please tell me you are not just wanting to get a look at naked strippers.”

  “Really,” said Travis. “If that’s what I wanted I’d just stay out here. No I’m getting a bit tired of all this in your face and just needed a break.”

  “Then go home,” I said. I stopped packing and looked at him seriously. “I know what you’re doing Travis. I know you’re worried about me working here and I know the only reason you have spent the last week sitting in a stripper bar is because you are making sure I’m okay. The fact you are doing that makes you, despite all previous evidence to the contrary, a really nice guy. But it’s not your job to protect me.”