Chapter 26

Later that evening, after Chloë had treated Adam, Cassie and Eddie to dinner at a local gastro-pub, they returned to Chloë’s house for a glass of champagne. Chloë handed out glasses and Adam popped the cork and poured.

“Here’s to Chloë,” said Eddie when they all had a full glass. “Let’s hope she walks it.”

“To Chloë,” echoed Adam and Cassie.

Chloë blushed. “Thanks, guys, but it’s an honour just to be nominated. I’m not even thinking about winning.”

“Yeah, right,” said Eddie. “A likely story.”

“Why not?” said Cassie. “You were certainly good enough, I haven’t seen all the others that have been nominated, but they’ll have to be brilliant to be better than you.”

“Chloë thinks that Nikki Mount will win,” said Adam.

“You’ve got to be joking,” said Eddie. “I’ve seen Live Rich and Die Hard, it was rubbish and she was the worst thing in it. I don’t buy all this stuff about supporting her because she’s had a hard time. They give the Oscar to the best actress—and that’s you. Or Amanda Armstrong— Marriage in the Headlines was a cracking film.”

“Whoever,” said Chloë, “I just know it won’t be me.”

“I don’t see why not,” said Adam.

“Because if you want to win, you have to schmooze.”

“Come again,” said Adam.

“To have any chance of winning, I’d have to spend the next six weeks in L.A., going to lunches and parties and being nice to anyone and everyone in the Academy who has a vote. It’s what Mark did the last time he was nominated.”

“But he didn’t win,” said Eddie. “Samuel Bradwell beat him to it.”

“But he was always going to, wasn’t he? Playing a war hero, crippled in Vietnam who becomes US President against all odds is bound to win you an Oscar. By the way, did you see the look on Sam’s face when he called my name?”

“Yeah,” said Cassie. “He looked really pleased.”

“You’re not friends with him too, are you?” asked Adam.

“I’ve never met him actually. But you know that film I’m doing for Mark in the summer?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to be opposite Sam. It’s one of his pet art-house projects. He’s paying for it all himself. He picked Mark as director and insisted that I play opposite him. Apparently, he’s a great admirer of mine.”

“Great admirer of your arse, is more like it,” said Eddie. “I’ve heard the stories about him. The man’s a pervert.”

“Whatever.” Chloë waved a hand dismissively. “But I’ll bet that his is one vote I can count on, at least.”

That weekend, Chloë’s parents, her agent and her publicist came to discuss the best way to woo the Academy voters without compromising her studies. Adam stayed out of the way from when they arrived Saturday lunchtime until they left mid-Sunday afternoon. It was after four o’clock when he finally called on Chloë. She opened the door and greeted him from behind a small video camera.

“What’s that for?” he asked.

“I figured it was time we made our video. We probably won’t get a chance over the next few weeks.”

“You are joking, I hope.”

“No.”

“But ... But ... What if ... You know. What if it gets stolen or something? Like what happened to Nikki Mount.”

“But it won’t. You don’t actually think that someone broke into Nikki’s house and stole the tape or DVD or whatever, do you? She leaked it. For the publicity. I don’t know about you—well, actually I do because you wouldn’t—but I don’t plan to leak this. I don’t want pictures of me getting my jollies all over the papers again, thank you very much. It was bad enough the first time.”

Adam was still sceptical about the whole idea. “Where did you get the camera from? I thought you didn’t have one?”

“It was Humphrey’s idea. He wants me to do a daily video blog on YouTube. He says it’s the closest we’ll get to rubbing shoulders with the L.A. set. It’s state of the art—uses a memory card instead of tape so it’s easier to transfer to the computer. At least, that’s what the Humphrey says. He’s a techno-geek. A bit like you, actually. I was sort of hoping...”

“You want me to help you post the blog?”

“Do you mind?”

“Of course not. Give it here then, let me have a gander.” Chloë handed over the tiny camera. It was no bigger than his iPod and fit neatly into his palm. It was small enough to be unobtrusive even with the LCD screen folded out. “This is so cool.”

“See—techno-geek.” Chloë grinned. “So, how do we start?”

Adam gulped. “Erm ... I suppose closing the door and getting out of the hallway would be a good move.”

“Bedroom?”

Not really meaning it, Adam said, “Sure. Why not every room in the house while we’re at it?”

“That’s a great idea. We could have a multi-episode thing. Let’s start in the kitchen. I’ve always wanted to do it in the kitchen—I don’t know why we haven’t before. I mean, it’s not like it gets used for anything else, is it?”

“It thought it was our alcohol storage facility.”

“Well, there is that.” She took his hand, pulled him into the hall and slammed the front door shut. Then she winked and said, “Be sure to keep that camera rolling. It says we’re got about an hour of storage on that card—that should be plenty.”

“You’re the boss.”

“You better believe it, buster. Now train that lens on my arse.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Chloë led the way along the corridor, exaggerating the swing of her hips for the camera. Before she entered the kitchen, she turned and blew a kiss at Adam. Once inside, she pulled her T-shirt over her head.

“Hey, hey. Slow down,” said Adam. “It’s called a strip tease, not a strip race. Take it slowly. Tease the camera.”

She threw the T-shirt on the floor. “The camera? Or you?”

Adam tried to keep the camera still as he shrugged. “Both, I suppose. No! Leave your bra on for now. Take your skirt off instead. But do it slowly.

“That’s it. Turn around.

“Oh yeah, Come on, baby—shake that booty for me.

“That’s nice. Now, keep still—let’s get a good look at that lovely tattoo of yours.”

Adam zoomed in on the butterfly inked onto Chloë’s hip. He held the camera steady and reached out to stroke the tattoo. “I really like this—have I told you that?”

“Not since yesterday.” Chloë wiggled her hips against his hand.

“You’ve got a nice arse too, you know. Very—” He grabbed a handful of her buttock. “—grabbable.”

“Says you. I think it’s a bit too big.”

“Oh no, it’s just the right size.” He zoomed out and stepped back. “Okay. Let’s get a good look at you. Do that whole posing thing.”

“You mean this?” Chloë made a few exaggerated poses, holding each one for a few seconds, blowing kisses at the camera and then shifting to another.

“Man, that’s hot. If the Academy members could see this—”

“They’d never vote for me. So it’s a good job they never will. Now...” She turned her back to the camera and unclasped her bra. “Let’s move things along shall we?”

“Fine by me. Get ‘em off. But just the bra for now. Let’s get those lovely tits on film, shall we?”

“You’re really getting into this, aren’t you?” Chloë giggled. “You know, I think I like it when you talk about me like that. It feels ... I don’t know ... Dirty.”

“Dirty? That’s what you want, is it? Okay, babes. I’ll show you just how dirty I can get. Now, you do know the general plot of these gonzo flicks, don’t you?”

“These what flicks?”

“Gonzo. It’s what they call this type of porn when the cameraman talks to the performer.”

“Oh. No, I didn’t know they had a plot. It’s just fucking mostly, isn’t it?”

“It’s dead simple,” he said. “First, you get naked—we’re well on the way with that one. Squeeze your tits for me, will you? There you go, that’s it. Then you have to suck my cock. Then I lick your cunt—”