“I don’t know what I want,” I say, confused. “I don’t even know what you mean.”
“OK. Let me explain.” He seems to marshal his thoughts. “I’ve watched you trying to make it in Hollywood as a stylist. Without a whole lot of success, right?”
“Right,” I say reluctantly.
“You know what people need to make it in Hollywood? They need heat. Right now, you have heat. All that attention, that buzz …” He gestures out to the front. “That’s heat. And call me an environmentalist, but I don’t like to see heat go to waste.”
“Right.” I nod uncertainly. “Me neither.”
“Whether you like it or not, getting ahead in this place isn’t about talent or hard work. OK, maybe ten percent is talent.” He spreads his hands. “The other ninety percent is catching a lucky break. So here’s your choice. You can see last night as a weird little moment to hush up and move on from—or you can see it as the luckiest break you ever caught.” He focuses on me, his eyes suddenly intense. “Becky, last night was providence giving you a FastPass. You can jump to the head of the line if you want to. You can go the distance. Do you want to?”
I stare back, utterly mesmerized by his words. I can jump to the head of the line? Go the distance? Why on earth wouldn’t I want to do that?
“Yes!” I stutter. “Of course I do! But—but what do you mean, exactly? What should I do?”
“We can make a plan. We can use this heat. But you have to know what you’re getting into. You have to be prepared to see it through.”
“You mean use the media?” I say hesitantly. “Do interviews?”
“Channel the energy, is all I’m saying. Your profile just went through the roof, but the world knows you as Becky Brandon, Witness to a Shoplifting. How about if you transformed that into Becky Brandon, Celebrity Stylist? Becky Brandon, Hollywood’s Fashion Maven. Becky Brandon, the Go-To Girl for a Great Look. We can brand you any way we like.”
I stare back at him, too dazzled to speak. Brand? Celebrity stylist? Me?
“You know that bag you picked out is all over the Internet?” he adds. “Do you realize how hot you are right now? And if it goes to court, they’ll be all over you. You’ll be the star witness and, believe me, the world will be watching.”
I feel a fresh tingle of excitement. Star witness! I’ll have to have a whole new wardrobe! I’ll wear little Jackie O. suits every day. And I’ll straighten my hair. No, I’ll put my hair up. Yes! Maybe I could have a different style every day, and people will call me the Girl with the Amazing Updos, and—
“Are you starting to realize what you have here?” Aran interrupts my thoughts. “People would kill for this exposure.”
“Yes, but …” I try to calm my whirling thoughts. “What do I do? Now? Today?”
“Well.” Aran sounds suddenly more businesslike. “We sit down and we make a plan. I can pull in some colleagues, you’ll need an agent—”
“Stop!” I say, as reality swoops in. “This is all too fast.” I lower my voice a little. “Don’t you understand, everything you’re saying, it’s the exact opposite of what Luke was saying. He wants it all to go away.”
“Sure.” Aran nods. “Becky, what you have to remember is, Luke doesn’t see you as a client. He sees you as his wife. He’s very protective of you and Minnie. Of course he is. Me? I see everyone as a client. Or potential client.” He grins. “We can discuss that later.”
The buzzer sounds again and I jump.
“Leave it,” says Aran. “Let them wait.”
“So, what will all this mean for Sage?”
“Sage!” He gives a short bark of a laugh. “If that girl goes any further off the rails, she’ll find herself in the ravine. She’ll be OK. We’ll haul her back on track, Luke and I. She’ll kick and scream and it won’t be pretty. But, then, nothing about Sage is. Except her face. When she’s been in makeup,” he adds. “You don’t want to see her before that.” He grimaces. “Brutal.”
“Rubbish!” I give a shocked giggle. “She’s beautiful!”
“If you say so.” He raises his slanty eyebrows comically.
He’s so irreverent and so unruffled. It’s like he’s enjoying all of this. I gaze at him, trying to work him out.
“You don’t seem as angry about all this as Luke. Hasn’t Sage messed up your strategy?”
“Quite possibly. But I like a challenge.” He shrugs. “Stars are like any other investment. May go up, may go down.”
“And Lois? Do you think this will …” I can hardly bear to say it. “Ruin her?” I feel a fresh clench of guilt in my stomach. If I’d just kept my mouth closed. If I’d just kept my promise. I’m haunted by the sight of Lois swaying in shock on the stage. She looked so desperate. And it was all my fault.
“Depends how she plays it,” says Aran cheerily. “She’s a bright one, Lois. I wouldn’t put it past her to come out on top.”
I can’t believe he’s so heartless.
“Didn’t you see her?” I exclaim. “She looked like she was about to collapse! I thought she was going to faint right there on the stage!”
“Probably didn’t eat enough at dinner.” Aran’s phone buzzes. “I must go. But we’ll talk. And Becky …” He gives me a significant look. “Don’t leave it too long. Remember, if you want to capitalize on this moment, you need the heat. And the heat won’t last forever. Hi,” he says into the phone.