***** Dylan Chase's Point of View *****
I looked over at Brenley, sitting in the passenger seat of my Lamborghini Gallardo with her eyes wide open, taking in the sights out the window.
"Wow. Rodeo Drive," she whispered in awe. "I've seen this in movies but never in a million years did I think I'd actually get to shop here."
It was cool seeing how she reacted to all the new things she was seeing for the first time, the way her mouth hung open when she slid into the passenger seat of my Lamborghini, running her hands over the leather and looking around in awe at how beautiful the interior was. It reminded me of how I felt when I first moved out to L.A. and everything was so new and exciting. I missed those days sometimes.
Maybe I was wrong about Brenley being really hard to impress, or maybe it was all just a show for the camera guy that was currently sitting in the back seat filming us. It turned out that she was a good actress, so it was hard to tell.
She took out her cell phone and snapped a picture of the Rodeo Drive and Beverly Hills signs as we passed them, saying she was going to send them to the people back home, and a few minutes later we pulled up to a row of high-end boutiques on Rodeo Drive.
Melissa and Scott pulled up in her white Mercedes behind us, following us inside the store behind the camera man.
Brenley handed Melissa a coffee and said, "Here, this is the coffee I was telling you about on the phone. Dylan actually had all the stuff to make it at his house."
Melissa took it and as she took a sip, her eyes widened. "Wow. That's delicious. Thank you."
"You're welcome. I'll text you the recipe," Brenley smiled.
"Ok," Melissa told her. "Now for dress shopping. You need a long gown for the movie premiere, a short one for the after party that's easy to move around in and a couple cocktail dresses for going out to dinner or a club."
Brenley looked around the store at all the racks of dresses and I could tell she was overwhelmed, but I wouldn't be much help. I hated shopping as much as she did.
She picked up the tag of one of the dresses and gasped, shouting, "Three thousand dollars?! Are you frickin' kidding me? People really pay that much for one dress? And it's not even cute?!"
"Shhhh. Keep your voice down," Melissa told her, looking around the store with her face flushing with embarrassment. "She's just teasing," she told the store clerks, laughing awkwardly and they gave Brenley a dirty look. Luckily the camera guy caught that whole conversation and the look from the clerk.
It took every bit of self control I had to hold in my laugh. I personally thought three grand for an ugly dress was ridiculous too, but Melissa would kill me if I said so right now.
"If we bought five dresses here, that would be fifteen thousand dollars! That's insane!" Brenley whispered with wide eyes. "Can you return them when I'm done wearing them?"
"No you can't return them after they've been worn," Melissa told her, scrunching her nose up in disgust.
"Well, I'll never wear these dresses again, so spending that much seems like a huge waste of money. Maybe we should go somewhere cheaper."
"No, this is all part of the star treatment you won and Dylan is paying for it anyway. Don't worry. Fifteen grand is just a drop in the bucket for him," Melissa told her, but Brenley looked at me like she wanted me to save her from this ridiculousness.
"She's right. It's nothing. Don't even look at the prices and just pick out whatever you want," I told her, but she still didn't look convinced.
For the next hour I sat there on a stiff leather sofa, scrolling through the movie script on my phone, memorizing my lines while Melissa and the store clerks helped Brenley pick out dresses and try on the endless pile of sparkly sequins and tulle that was hoisted into her arms.
Brenley was 5'6 and thin, with a small bust and a slight curve to her hips. Her pale skin looked like it had never even seen the sun, so Melissa told her some of the light dress colors made her look washed out. I thought they all looked good on her, but what do I know? Shopping for dresses wasn't my thing. A couple times I caught my head hanging low and my eyes closing, but I sucked in air and woke up with a start, looking around and realizing I was still in the dress shop.
At some point I did completely fall asleep, because I felt a shake on my shoulder and Melissa said, "C'mon Dylan. It's time to pay."
I opened my eyes and blinked, rubbing them as the store came into focus. I wondered what time it was, because it felt like we had been there for hours. I stood up and stretched with a groan before walking up to the counter and swiping my Amex black card. I noticed the bill was only six thousand dollars when they handed me my receipt.
"Why was it only six grand?" I asked Melissa.
"Well, she ended up finding a sales rack hidden way in the back that had discount dresses on it from last season and she insisted on getting dresses from there. They actually looked great on her, so I caved," she said with a guilty look on her face. "I promise you, I wouldn't have let her buy them if they were going to embarrass you."
"No, I trust you. I'm sure they're fine. Let's just get out of here," I said with a yawn, shoving the receipt in my pocket and heading outside. Three store attendants followed us out carrying the large dress, shoes, purse and accessories boxes piled high in their arms.
The camera crew said their goodbyes and drove away in a white van, leaving us standing there on the sidewalk with all these boxes.
"My Lamborghini has no backseat or trunk space, so I guess you'll have to take all of this back to my house in your car Melissa."
"Yeah, that's fine. I was heading over there anyway to talk to Scott about tomorrow. I'll see you later," she told me before walking over and giving Brenley a hug and a warm smile, saying something to her before walking away. Melissa never hugged people and smiled like that.
'She's gotten to her too,' I thought, remembering how Brenley had won over Rita at breakfast. The lady had never spoken more than two words to me, but Brenley shows up and suddenly they're best friends? What was it with this woman?
"Are you hungry yet? Melissa made lunch reservations for us at my favorite restaurant," I told Brenley, sliding into the driver's side and slipping my sunglasses back on. That's when I noticed there were paparazzi on the sidewalk next to my car taking pictures of us. They were shouting and I could see the flashes from their cameras going off. I looked over and saw her trying to hide her face from them, looking uncomfortable.
"Oh don't worry about them. They're harmless," I said, starting up the engine and pulling out onto the street. "It's no big deal. It's just some pictures," I told her, but she didn't seem convinced.
I looked in the rearview mirror and saw a paparazzi van following behind us.
"They're following us. Do you want me to lose them?"
"Yeah," she nodded.
"Okay. I can do that," I said, sliding my sunglasses down my nose and giving her a wink before pushing them back up. I shifted downward, hearing the growl of the engine as I sped down the road and onto the interstate where I weaved between cars. Pretty soon the paparazzi van was far behind us.
"There. We lost 'em," I said proudly.
I was expecting some kind of gratitude or a smile or something, but there was nothing. She just sat there looking out the window in silence. My flirty wink hadn't even had an effect on her and that always worked. That's when I remembered my conversation with Melissa and Scott. I wasn't supposed to be seducing her. I was supposed to be trying to be her friend.
As I turned onto the street where the restaurant was, I spotted the flashes from the paparazzi that were lined up along the sidewalk waiting for us. I was used to it. This happened just about any time I left the house and went somewhere out in public.
No doubt Melissa or my P.R. guy called ahead and let them know we'd be eating there. The headline would probably say something like Dylan Chase spotted out on the town with new mystery woman and every website and magazine would be scrambling to figure out who she was first so they could break the story. It would be great publicity for the new movie.
I pulled up to Chateau Marmont, my favorite place to eat because they had strict rules about no phones or cameras. People weren't allowed to ask for autographs or pictures with us and they weren't allowed to film us while we ate. When you're famous, having privacy like that is a big deal.
I opened my door, slipping the valet my keys before walking around to the other side of the car. I was surprised to see that Brenley had already opened her door and gotten out. I was used to opening the door for my dates, but apparently she wasn't used to that. Then I remembered that this wasn't a date. For some reason it felt like one.
I looked over and saw that she was already heading down the sidewalk towards the restaurant and I rushed to catch up with her, slipping my arm into hers and escorting her past the crowd of shouting paparazzi with their flashes going off in our faces and into the restaurant.
We were immediately shown to a table in front of a fireplace and given menus and Brenley told them thank you with a smile. The waiter stood over us and asked what we wanted. I skimmed over the menu and then looked up and watched her, staring at the menu in deep concentration, scrunching her eyebrows.
"What?" I asked, holding in a laugh.
She raised an eyebrow and asked, "What is bullwhip kelp butter? Or Manchego, marstada, labneh, burrata? I don't even know what most of this stuff is," she said, sounding overwhelmed.
"I'll make it easy for you. Do you like steak?" I asked.
She laughed. "Well yeah. Doesn't everybody?"
"No. You'd be surprised. There's actually a lot of vegans here in California. But since you like steak, you should order the New York Steak Frites. It's just steak and fries, but trust me. It's amazing."
"Ok. I'll take that," she said, folding up her menu and letting out an exhale. "I don't even know a single vegan," she said under her breath just loud enough for me to hear it.
"We'll both take an order of Steak & Frites and we'd like a bottle of your best red wine," I told the waiter, handing him our menus.
"That bottle is three thousand one hundred and fifty dollars sir. Do you still want it?"
"Yes, that's fine," I nodded and he walked away.
As we waited for our food, I noticed that Brenley looked a little down.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
She raised her head and looked across the table at me, hesitating for a few seconds before finally saying, "I really don't want to sound ungrateful. You and your people have gone through a lot of trouble for me already and any other woman would be ecstatic over all of this."
"But?" I asked.
"But," she said taking a deep breath in and letting it out. "I'm homesick."
"Homesick? It's only your second day here," I laughed. "Didn't you have fun today? You got to go shopping on Rodeo Drive and now here we are eating at the Chateau Marmont, the famous restaurant where lots of celebrities eat?"
She looked down, lifting her glass of water to her lips and taking a drink from it before looking back up into my eyes.
"L.A. is just so different. It's like a totally different world, three thousand dollar bottles of wine, five thousand dollar dresses, Lamborghinis, mansions, menus I don't understand, traffic jams, paparazzi, cameras recording me," she took a deep breath in and let it out, hanging her head. "People that look down their nose at me and think they're better than I am," she added quietly with a sad tone to her voice.
"Who thought they were better than you?" I asked with scrunched eyebrows. "If it was Melissa or Scott I'll have a talk with them."
"No, it wasn't them," she said quickly. "It was the umm, the clerks at the store earlier. They were making fun of me for buying the dresses that were on sale when they thought I couldn't hear them. I felt so stupid."
Hearing that made me feel protective and angry.
"I can't believe they have the nerve to treat my guest that way. Why don't we go back to the store and tell them they can shove their dresses up their ass and get our money back?"
"No, that would just make me feel worse. Just forget about it. Please. I shouldn't have even mentioned it," she sighed, resting her head on her chin.
Seeing Brenley this way made me feel bad because Melissa said I was in charge of making sure she had the best week of her life, but right now she looked absolutely miserable. I had to figure out a way to turn this around.