Luke looks dubiously at it and pokes it with his spoon. “OK,” he says slowly. “What are we having with it?”
“This is it! It has protein and sprouty things and everything. It’s a meal in a bowl.” I’m about to take a spoonful when I remember something. I push my chair back and start doing squats.
Luke stares at me in alarm. “Becky, are you all right?”
“I’m fine!” I say breathlessly. “You should do squats before you eat. It boosts the metabolism. All the stars do it. Nine … ten.” I take my seat again, panting slightly. Luke surveys me silently for a moment, then takes a spoonful. He munches it but doesn’t say anything.
“Isn’t it great?” I say cheerily, and take a massive spoonful myself.
Argh. Bleargh. Ack.
Seriously? This is what the film stars eat?
It’s really watery, and what little taste it has is like a mix of mushrooms and sawdust and earth. I force myself to swallow it down and take another spoonful. I don’t dare look at Luke. A bowl of this won’t fill him up. Nor me. It wouldn’t even fill up Minnie.
How do the A-listers stay so cheery when they have to eat grain soup the whole time? It must be mind over matter. They must sit there grimly, telling themselves, I’m ravenous—but I’m in a movie! My stomach is rumbling and I feel faint—but I’m friends with Leonardo DiCaprio!
I take another mouthful and try to chew it a hundred times, as recommended in the blog I read. But honestly. How can this be good for you? My jaw is aching, and all I can taste is sprouty things. I would kill for a KitKat—
No, stop it. A-listers don’t eat KitKats. If I’m going to be in their crowd, I need to learn to love grain soup.
“Luke, maybe we should buy a yacht,” I say, to take my mind off the grain soup.
“What?” He looks flabbergasted.
“Just a little one. And then we could hang out with other people on yachts. Like Ben and Jennifer,” I add casually. “Those kinds of people.”
Sage was talking about “Ben” today as though they’re best friends. Well, if she can be friends with him, why not me too?
“Ben?”
“Ben Affleck.”
“Ben Affleck?” Luke puts his spoon down. “Why on earth would we hang out with Ben Affleck?”
“We might!” I say defensively. “Why shouldn’t we? We live in L.A. now, we’re in the movies … you’re bound to meet Ben Affleck at a party or something.…”
“I doubt it,” says Luke drily.
“Well, I will, then! Maybe Sage will introduce us. Or maybe I’ll style him or one of his friends.”
And I’ll become best friends with Jennifer Garner, I think secretly. I’ve always thought I would hit it off with her.
“Becky, this conversation makes no sense.” Luke is shaking his head, and I look at him impatiently. He’s so slow sometimes.
“Don’t you realize everything’s changed? I’m in the public eye now. I’m in a whole new zone.”
“You’re hardly an A-lister,” he snorts, and I feel a dart of indignation.
“Well, I will be! I have paparazzi outside the house.… Sage Seymour calls me all the time.…”
“The paparazzi have gone,” says Luke, unmoved. “And Sage calls me all the time too. That doesn’t make me an A-lister.”
“Aran believes in me,” I say pointedly. “He says I’m going to be huge. He says I could have my own network show by next year.”
Luke sighs. “Darling, I don’t want to rain on your parade—but don’t believe every word Aran says. He’s a great guy, but he just says whatever the conversation of the moment seems to require. Maybe he believes it, maybe he doesn’t. It’s the Hollywood way.” He sips his wine. “And another thing: We need to get rid of those goons. We can’t live with them lurking around the place all day.”
“Mitchell and Jeff?” I put down my spoon in dismay. “I couldn’t live without Mitchell and Jeff.”
Luke peers at me incredulously for a moment, then throws back his head in laughter. “Darling, you’ve only had bodyguards for a day. You can’t be dependent on them already. And if you are, I’m afraid you need a reality check.” He gets up from the table. “I’m making myself a sandwich. Sorry.” He starts slathering mayonnaise onto bread, and I watch in secret envy. “Since you’re talking to your best friend Sage nonstop,” he adds, “you can tell me something. I’m convinced she’s up to some lunatic plan or other. What has she said to you?”
I feel a tweak of alarm. I wasn’t expecting him to ask me straight out.
“What do you mean?” I say, playing for time.
“She’s hiding something.” He sits down with his monster sandwich and takes a bite. “Truthfully, Becky, I’m nearly at the end of the line with Sage. I thought we could work together, but …” He wipes a blob of mayonnaise off his chin and takes another huge bite.
“But what?”
“If she can’t play straight with me, then it’s not going to work.”
“You mean …” I feel a sudden foreboding. “Luke, what do you mean?”
“I don’t know yet.” He opens a bag of crisps, which he must have bought himself. I certainly didn’t buy them. “Here’s the thing, Becky. A lot of issues are up in the air.”
“What kind of issues?”
“I spoke with the London office today, and there’s some intriguing stuff going on back there. We’ve just had a call from the Treasury. I’m going to have to fly back to take a meeting. And if we progress with that association, then I’ll need to be on board.”