The Moonstone Starlet

Chapter 31

A guitar solo streamed throughout the car, followed by softly sung lyrics, “There is no pain, you are receding, A distant ship smoke on the horizon, You are only coming through in waves.” It stopped abruptly. A small manicured hand moved to the center console control panel, pressing gently on the touch screen. A poppy drum beat played, with piano keys dancing through the air. “She don't press me, Not like she used to, Everything that she don't do, That's what I want, what I need,” John Legend's low sultry voice sung.
“I was listening to that,” Elia complained.
“You don't need to be listening to depressing songs about drug use. You find John Legend soothing and delightful, remember?” A young woman with curly brown hair replied to her.
Elia leaned her head up against the side of the car window with her feet up on the dash. She had a Yankees cap on low with her ray bans underneath. Her new assistant drove them along Storrow heading southwest. The river ran beside them, heading to the sea. A light rain fell from above, dripping down the windows.

"I don't want to do yoga today." Elia mumbled.
"You have to. Do you want to end up on one of those magazine covers with the headline "Elia Downs has Cellulite"?"
"Everyone has cellulite. I give no fucks about it."
"It says in the handbook very specifically, if Elia gets salty or out of shape make her work out at least three times per week."

This girl was out of control, Elia thought. Kalah. She had graduated from a university in Boston the previous year, and had worked as a nanny for the past year. Elia wasn't sure how that qualified her to be an assistant but she had left it up to Sam. She was a horrible substitute for Sam, and Elia was absolutely salty about it.

"What do you mean handbook?" She asked. Before handing over the reigns to the new assistant Sam had developed a handbook for her replacement. An owner's manual for taking care of your new Elia.
"I want to see this handbook." Elia commanded.
"The entire first page of the handbook is about not letting you see the handbook."

Elia held out her hand in a what the fuck gesture.

"Do you always follow the directions, cause I vote not follow the handbook. Rules are for fools, that's what I always say." It was probable that Elia had never said that before.

Kalah didn't respond. She turned on to another street.

"It specifically says when you start to get moody you need a more structured schedule."
"Seriously can I see this handbook? And I'm not moody. Do you want to go do some shots?"
"I'm driving!" She exclaimed.

They arrived at the yoga studio. Elia really didn't feel like exercising. Yoga wasn't something she did for fun. Yoga was what she did when she was bored in the Blackhawks locker room waiting for the guys to finish changing. Or waiting in the airport for a flight if your phone battery was going to die and you couldn't watch Netflix anymore. Doing yoga on it's own was boring.

"I have a lot of stuff to do today. I don't have time for this."
"You don't have anything to do right now. This was worked into your schedule."

Elia wanted to go troll the "Dark Knight" message board on imdb.com and then hit up the westeros.org forum. Why wasn't that on the itinerary? It was a small consolation that Kalah had to partake in the yoga too. Elia couldn't stay disgruntled yoga. Taking deep breathes, pushing the out. Stretching slowly and reaching. Lying on the floor in child's pose with her eyes closed. Fucking handbook.

From yoga they drove the Tesla across town again, listening to a cd Kalah had made for Elia to listen to. It was like an easy listening radio station. Elia felt uncomfortably numb. Since the fight with Brad two days ago Elia had been feeling restless but frozen at the same time. They hadn't talked about it again. Yesterday he had waited until he got home to shower after practice. Elia had gotten in with him and they let their bodies do the talking. She closed her eyes and listened to the sound of the rain on the car, remembering. He was facing the falling water when she got in. She ran her hands down his back, down his sides, down the Stanley Cup Champions tattoo on his ribcage, the same one Tyler had on his. He turned around and kissed her, over and over, before turning her around and pushing her up against the shower wall, his hands on her hips. She closed her eyes and listened to the water falling and felt it dripping down her back. The car slowed and stopped, and Elia opened her eyes, realizing where they were, coming back to focus on their next task.

The Bruins would be playing the Blackhawks on Saturday, and the girls back in Chicago had decided to throw Abby's baby shower that Sunday. Elia and Kalah were shopping for gifts to bring back, a task that Elia found confusing, even with a registry list. “Oh, this. We are definitely getting one of these! What a great idea.” Elia said, holding up a baby wipe warmer. They made their way over to the clothing section. Elia wished buying her own clothes was this easy. Kalah walked over holding up a Bruins onesie.
“What is wrong with you?” Elia said, shaking her head as she took it from her. “We are shopping for a baby who's dad plays for the Blackhawks. Sam could not be fired because has witnessed me commit felonies, but you hold no such immunity, this is your first warning.”
“I was just trying to make a joke.” Kalah said meekly. Elia blinked, “Huh, not bad actually. Alright, let's get it.” She was checking the size on the tag when she noticed something across a couple clothing racks. Another shopper taking a picture of her. Should have just shopped online. They took their shopping cart to the register and then back to the car. Elia muttered that she was just going to buy the kid a pony when she got older.
The pair stopped back at the apartment to shower before heading to a dinner meeting. Brad was at home taking a nap. While Kalah got ready in the guest room Elia laid down next to Brad in their room, putting her arm around his waist from behind him. He woke up and turned over onto his back, “Hey babe.” “Hey. Did you have dinner with the boys already?” He nodded, closing his eyes again. She wished him good luck at the game, kissed his face and left.
She wore a yellow “Nose Face Killah” shirt under a sleek black blazer and grey skinny jeans, with her hair in a pony tail. Kalah drove them down to Deuxave in Back Bay for a dinner meeting with Elia's agent Cameron Moore. The dining room had high ceilings, with wine racks along a top shelf and large chandeliers hanging down. Elia sat nervously waiting for Cam to get there. If he wanted a face to face it was usually to yell at her. He arrived a half hour late, having came straight from the airport and a delayed flight. Elia had drank a glass of wine by then, and hadn't eaten since before yoga. She was slightly buzzed. Cam waited until their food arrived before he started talking shop. Elia was right, he wasn't happy. “Midnight in Paris” had been a small role and had a limited release. She should have jumped back into a role before the summer so she could have a film out by winter, and kept rolling with the buzz she had from her last success. Now she was going to be off the radar for the next year at least. Passing on “Game of Thrones” after he had campaigned hard for her was a bad move too. Producers were viewing it as a sign she could pull out at the last minute.
“What do you want to do? You want to sit around here and play house with your boyfriend?” He asked her. “You could do that, you know. Julia Roberts did it when she married that cameraman. Did some easy voice work, did the housewife thing at the same time.”
Elia didn't respond, fiddling with her phone under the table, turning it over and over. He continued. “See, I don't think you will choose that though. I've been talking to Stenwick, remember him? Your financial planner. He thinks you need to start working again too. You've got all this money going out, and right now, not as much money is coming in. Your boyfriend got a big contract? Didn't think so. Next time find an athlete in a sport without a salary cap if you want to be an unemployed philanthropist.”
“I have plenty of money, once Facebook drop its IPO--”
“What you're going to sell off all your shares right away? That's not how that works, there is a waiting period for initial investors. You sunk $50 mil into the southside. You are sitting on another $60 mil in undeveloped property in Africa. Last month you gave Leonardo DiCaprio $5 million to save fucking dolphins. You want to keep saving flipper and rebuilding impoverished neighborhoods you better start working again.”
“It was to save cetaceans, that includes whales and porpoises too,” She corrected. Her voice-mailbox was full of similar rants from her accountant and finance manager. Liquidity. She had a lot of money in illiquid assets but she needed more liquidity, they kept repeating. Translation: make it rain cash money. “I want to get back to work. What do you have in mind?”
Cam laid out two packets on the table. On the left was a list of films he thought she would want to do, and on the right was a list of films with big paychecks. He highlighted projects already having expressed interest in her.
“Silver Linings Playbook.” She said, reading down the list on the left.
“Signed Jennifer Lawrence three days ago. I should have crossed that off, sorry.”

“Ok, 'Inside Llewyn Davis'? You sent me that script a few months ago, I liked it.” He handed her a pen to circle it. She looked over the list more. “Zero Dark Thirty, I'd love to work with that director...” He took the left packet away from her and pushed the one on the right in front of her. She groaned, “The Avengers? A Tom Cruise movie?” Cameron tapped on the paper with his index finger. “Think of the cetaceans Elia. How many dolphins and porpoises can you save when you are making franchise money?”
It probably wouldn't be worth it to read any of the scripts. She told him to pick them himself. Two per year. But only on the condition that they were filmed within a three hour flight of Boston or in the hockey off season. He told her Universal was interested in purchasing the screenplay she had sent to Fukunaga. John Hillcoat was interested in it. She gave him the go-ahead to sell it, and told him she'd send over a few more.
They stayed after dinner to have a few drinks and talk. Elia was keeping track of the Bruins game score on her phone. There was no score half way through the second period. The Blackhawks were just starting against Winnipeg. Cameron got an email on his phone from Elia's publicist Stacey. “Do you need to tell me something?” He asked Elia, handing her the phone. Perez Hilton's website had the headline “Elia Downs Expecting with Boyfriend Brad Marchand” and a picture of her holding up the baby outfit. Elia held up her wine glass in response. Cameron made the sign of a cross and repeated the Holy Rosary.
They left as the second period of the Bruins game was winding down. Elia made Kalah go to a tavern with her. They sat at the end of a bar watching the game on three tvs at once. A couple of college aged guys came up to them midway through the third. “Are you Elia Downs?” One of them asked. She nodded. “Why aren't you at the game?” The other one asked. “That's a good question.” She replied. She didn't have a good answer.

Notes