Hot Docs On Call: Hollywood Heartthrobs. Louisa George

this brilliant? Over there is Alfredo Petrocelli, the best director in the world, as far as I’m concerned. And I’m breathing the same air as Matt Ringwood and Cameron Fontaine—although her air is usually infused with some weird aromatherapy combinations depending on her mood, and they change—a lot. But, all things considered, it couldn’t be better.’

      ‘And yet your body language says the opposite.’ Those blue eyes narrowed a little. ‘Tell me the truth, Lola. It’s not all glitz and glamour, is it?’

      Why did this man make her feel simultaneously nervous and yet eager to talk? How did he read her so well in the space of...what? Half an hour? She wanted to brush everything off with a big happy shrug but, well, she was a little sick of lying about how much fun it all was and how wonderfully exciting it was, when really sometimes she felt so despondent she wanted to cry. She was lonely. She was poor. She wasn’t making the right connections quickly enough. She was running out of money. She couldn’t bring herself to show her script to anyone. It was bad enough that she had to lie every time her father phoned.

      But, then, she didn’t know Jake from a bar of soap, so why should she spill her guts to him? ‘It’s fabulous, actually. You should see Cameron’s house in Bel Air. It’s amazing. And she has great parties.’ Which Lola organised completely but had to keep a ‘low profile’ for. No partying for the assistant, just background work creating the illusion that Cameron had done it all on her own. ‘Really. Fabulous. Now, I think I should probably be going.’

      Jake frowned. ‘Where? Back to Cameron? Won’t she yell if she needs you? That seems to work.’

      ‘Yes, she will. But I do have other things I should be doing. Besides, she needs me to go over her lines.’

      But he didn’t seem to want to move, so she was kind of stuck here, being polite. Although that wasn’t too much of a hardship. After the initial bad beginning, things had started to smooth out a little—largely, she mused, due to her never-ending search for the positive in things, which was starting to falter a little.

      He leaned back and crossed his legs. From what she could see of them they were toned, strong, clothed in expensive fabric. A dark suit, very professional. In fact, from this angle she could see the stretch of linen across his chest, the bunched muscles in his arms. He clearly did more working out than lifting a scalpel. And that was so none of her business. She looked away—only this time it was at his face.

      His eyes met hers again and she felt a shiver of something strange as he said, ‘So, what’s it about, then, your screenplay?’

      Wow. The first person to actually ask.

      She’d prepared her elevator pitch, she knew exactly how to sell it to a director or producer in one sentence. Perhaps she could try it out on him?

      ‘Lola! Lola!’

      No such luck.

      She gave him a little nod. ‘See. I have to go. But, please, don’t disappear on me, she’s probably—’

      ‘Lola!’ The pitch was high, the voice wobbly.

      ‘Oh, she really does sound upset. Maybe you should come too?’

      ‘Okay. Sure. Once more unto the breach and all that...’ He closed his eyes for a second and then breathed in deeply, as if summoning up courage. ‘Do we need hard hats?’

      For a moment Lola felt as if she had an ally. Everyone else took Cameron so seriously it was nice to share a confidence. She laughed. ‘Only if she throws something at you.’ At his worried grimace she laughed again. Harder. ‘She has terrible aim. She hasn’t actually hit me yet.’

      * * *

      Jake watched as Lola again clothed herself in her positive jolly guise and entered the trailer. For a few seconds she’d let him see past that façade to the real woman—she was an interesting character. Clearly driven, if not a little spirited. Still, there was nothing wrong in chasing a dream. She was articulate and had a self-deprecating sense of humour, which was infectious.

      She almost ran over to Cameron and Jake had a suspicion that there was some affection there for her boss despite what she said. ‘Hey, are you okay? What’s the problem?’

      The actress wiped tears from her cheeks. ‘I don’t know. I feel...well, I don’t feel right. I’m so...out of sorts.’

      Jake stepped in. ‘Are you in pain anywhere, Miss Fontaine?’

      ‘No. Not pain exactly.’

      Great. Not helpful. ‘Can you describe what this out of sorts feeling is? Is it anywhere in particular? An ache? A stabbing pain? Nausea? Headache? Dizziness?’ It was like playing lucky dip.

      ‘No.’ Tears fell faster.

      ‘She was nauseous earlier.’ Lola looked from one to the other as if that was the complete answer.

      ‘It’s gone now, I’m just a little upset. Something I ate, no doubt.’ Cameron sighed. ‘But I don’t think I’ll be able to do much today. Lola, honey, can you tell them I won’t be out for the rest of the day?’

      Lola frowned, but quickly wiped it from her face. Her voice was soothing, soft and positive. ‘Maybe you’re just a little over-tired? You’ve been working very hard recently with only one little break in Hawaii. That wasn’t enough—you need to make sure you book in a longer break between shoots next time. I’ll put it in your diary.’ While she talked she brushed Cameron’s hair back from her face and held a glass of water out for her to drink. ‘I think they’re on their break now, anyway. They’ve been doing some stunt rehearsing to fill in—Matt’s big fight scene, you know what a perfectionist he is, so don’t worry, everyone’s fine about it. How about we see how you feel in a few minutes? Perhaps Jake could give you a tonic or something?’

      A tonic? Did people still have those? He was all clued up on brains and, after his stint in ER as an intern, could manage most emergencies. But general non-specific malaise? He wasn’t sure about that. He knelt in front of Cameron.

      ‘Perhaps Lola could excuse us while I examine you?’ He shot a hopeful look at Lola and she nodded.

      ‘Great idea. Let’s make sure we’re not missing anything.’

      ‘No. No. That won’t do at all. Please, just give me a tonic. Something...something non-toxic. Oh, I don’t know, maybe just water? Would more water help?’ Cameron put a protective hand to her stomach, although Jake thought it was an odd subconscious action.

      Then his mind began to join the dots. General malaise. Nausea disguised as a stomach upset. Hand on abdomen. Tears. Non-toxic.

      She’s pregnant. She’s pregnant and she doesn’t want anyone to know. ‘I’d really like to talk to you in private, Cameron. Just talk. I won’t examine you if you don’t want that.’

      The actress looked at him for a good long beat. She gave a minute shake of her head, her eyes wide and a little scared. Clearly, anyone finding out about this, even her assistant, was a big deal. But didn’t she know she needed to take care? To eat the right things? Did she know for sure or just suspect? Did she have an OB/GYN?

      Miss Fontaine sat up and patted her cheeks with a tissue. ‘You know what? I’m actually starting to feel a bit better. Perhaps a little more water, then I’ll go back outside. Get some air. Maybe we could do some sitting-down scenes to conserve my energy.’

      Jake wasn’t convinced. ‘Cameron, are you sure you don’t want me to look you over? Or I can arrange for someone else to come see you? This evening? To your home if you want?’ An OB/GYN? Midwife? He gave her a studied look, hoping she could read through his words. Trying to maintain confidentiality with someone else in the room was difficult. ‘I could call someone.’

      ‘No. Thank you. You’ve been very attentive. But I’m fine. Absolutely. You can go.’

      He fished into his bag and drew out a card, which he gave to her. ‘Here’s my personal cell number. Call me any