Junior Year Box Set полностью

I put on a dress shirt and slacks so I didn’t look like I’d just been working in a hayloft—Rita’s words. I grabbed my Japanese sunglasses and slipped on a sports jacket, then checked myself in the mirror. Looking back at me was a Hollywood-douche Brad Pitt wannabe. When Rita saw me, she smiled.

We suffered through the gauntlet of immigration, baggage claim, and customs. My sole luggage was my leather garment bag that I’d carried on. Rita had a garment bag and two huge suitcases. We were only going to be here for the night and then meet with the Star Wars people in the morning. After we cleared customs, Caryn offered to take our luggage ahead to the car. I was thinking how nice it was for Caryn to do that, but later I realized she knew what was coming and didn’t want any part of it.

The exit from the customs area was where the paparazzi descended upon us. Frank had told us he would put the word out that the two of us were in town. To me, the opening night for Star Academy was nuts. But walking through Heathrow with Rita James was simply insane. I became worried when they spotted us and began to converge and shout questions as we navigated towards our waiting ride. I was relieved when our security showed up—four dangerous-looking men—and boxed us in between them.

When we finally had some breathing room, Rita slowed our walk to a stroll. I caught on quickly that she was using the paparazzi to get the word out that we’d arrived. I pushed my sunglasses up on my head and gave them my million-dollar smile, and Rita slid her arm under mine. When we walked outside, we stopped, and she turned back to the paparazzi.

Frank had given us talking points, and I let the master—or in this case, mistress—do her job. She spoke about the new movie coming out this summer, The Secret Circle. I’d been given permission to let the press know I was there to talk further about my possible Star Wars role. And that the reason we were here was to meet with the director and producer of the movie.

Then they asked if we were ‘together.’ Rita laughed and promptly threw her daughter under the bus.

“David dates my daughter. He wouldn’t be interested in an old woman like me.”

“Is that true, David? Is Rita James too old for you?” one of them asked, which caused them all to smirk.

Even I could imagine the headline: ‘David A. Dawson says Rita James is Old!’ Rita gave me an amused glance.

“I’ve had a crush on her forever. If I hadn’t met her daughter first, I would’ve asked her out,” I said. As soon as it came out, I knew I’d just made the news.

“So, you’d be up for a threesome with Rita and her daughter?” one of the cheeky bastards asked.

Rita gave them all a look that dared them to ask any more questions like that. I just kept a neutral expression on my face as Rita turned to the car and the driver let us in. Caryn couldn’t hear what they’d said.

“It looked like they pissed you off. What did they say?” she asked.

“They wanted to know if we were going to the hotel for a threesome,” I said.

“I told them three’s a crowd,” Rita added with a straight face.

Caryn’s mouth gaped, and she just stared at us until she noticed I was about to break out laughing. Her glare convinced me she’s been taking lessons from my mom.

◊◊◊

Rita had arranged for us to stay in London at the Corinthia Hotel. It was at the corner of Northumberland Avenue and Whitehall Place, on a triangular site between Trafalgar Square and the Thames Embankment. Their brochure said it was a former British government building that was now a luxury hotel. The building itself was an odd shape. At one end, it looked like a triangle with a round point that faced the river.

When we pulled up, there were six doormen, three to a side, stationed to hold back the paparazzi and a small crowd that had gathered. Our driver got out of the car but waited to open the door. Caryn made a move to get out, but I stopped her.

“Hang on. I think they want us to wait,” I told her.

Out of the front entrance came a man dressed in a smart suit, followed by two bellhops.

“Let David and me get out first and wait until we’re in the building before you exit the car. You don’t want them to think you’re with David,” Rita told Caryn.

“What do you mean?” Caryn asked.

I batted my eyes at her.

“Oh. Okay, I’ll wait,” Caryn said, understanding.

When the driver opened the door, I got out first and then helped Rita out. The way she did it took my breath away. All that was missing was a crown on her head. I stepped back and let the paparazzi get their shots of American Hollywood Royalty, Rita James. She waited a moment and then nodded at the man in the suit. He came up and did a little half-bow to her. She motioned me forward.

“David A. Dawson, I would like you to meet Charles Whatley. He is in charge of the Corinthia Hotel.”

We shook hands.