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“Jesus Christ, Ruby. Can you please pull your damn head out of your ass and pay attention to your lines? You haven’t gotten one right yet.”
“I’m sorry, Jay, but you didn’t really write it so it was easy to remember. And who the hell says ‘got it’ after a person tells them they are dying? There should be drama, tears, a clear way to see Julie is upset. You have her so cold not even a volcano could melt her.”
“You. Are. A. Diva,” he spit out each word like a bullet from a gun through his clenched teeth. The way his vein on his forehead throbbed, I could tell he was pissed. “Just say what is on the card or I will find someone who will.”
“Whatever. Nobody can replace Ruby Vincent and you know it.” I flung my hair over my shoulder as I walked away. Five minutes in my dressing room and Jay would beg for me to come back out. I heard his fists pound the table in front of him as I walked away. While the sound startled me, I refused to let him see it.
In the safety of my dressing room, I thought about what was said before I stormed out. As cold as everyone thought I was, that line should have been easy. I couldn’t help but think of sitting across from my dad as they told him he had cancer again and nothing was going to stop it from taking his life. Pulling out my chair, I grabbed my powder and blotted my face. The heat from the lamps always made my skin so shiny. If only he could see how hard I tried and stopped yelling. There were so many times I wanted to quit, but he was the best in the business and even if it was a commercial or a small role in the ever-promised but never delivered daytime soap, it was better than nothing.
Knock. Knock.
Looking at my watch, a smile crept across my face. Jay was right on time to apologize.
“Yes,” I said and flung open the door to my small closet sized dressing room. My smile faded when it wasn’t Jay on the other side but his assistant – emphasis on ass – Tiffany.
“We need to talk,” she said in her squeaky mouse voice. Like nails running rampant down a chalkboard, the sound of her always made my skin crawl.
“Where’s Jay?” I asked. Placing my hands on my hips and shifting my weight to my right foot, I made it clear she was the last person I wanted to talk to.
“Well, he is outside smoking trying to cool down.” Pulling her dumb clipboard in tighter like it would protect her made me choke down a laugh. She was the typical kiss ass and most days I couldn’t tell where Jay’s ass ended and her lips began.
“Cool down from what? He isn’t the one having to say this bullshit line.” My hands flew up in the air and my voice raised despite me trying to keep my cool.
“Maybe not, but you never make things easy on him. He’s a good guy, Ruby, and you walk all over him.”
“If I can get to him, he isn’t a man but a pussy in disguise. Tell him to change that line and I will come do his lame commercial.”
“No.”
The one word held more weight than any I had heard from her before. It was firm and final.
“What?”
“No, Ruby. He has put up with enough from you. He is letting you go and if you go quietly, he won’t blackball you with other directors.”
“He can’t fire me,” I screamed. I felt the heat hit my face and restrained myself from knocking her teeth out. I wasn’t sure who she thought she was, but she couldn’t fire me.
“He can and he did. Learn to pull your shit together and follow directions or you will never make it in show biz or in life.”
“I already made it,” I yelled after her as she spun on her heels and walked away.
Plopping down hard on the icy metal chair they gave me, I buried my head in my hands and waited for the room to stop spinning. I had never been fired before. I was Ruby Vincent and Jay was lucky I even agreed to work with him. I heard he was a bit of a diva himself, but what he did was over the top.
Hitting the dressing table, I picked up the glass of water sitting in front of me and threw it against the door. With a loud thud, it hit, shattered, and fell to the floor. I watched as the water carried the little shards of glass across the floor while my rage built.
I stood up so fast, the chair tipped backwards. Stumbling as I tripped on it, I opened the door and walked out into the now overcast sunlight. The clouds rolling in that cracked with thunder matched the storm raging within me. I would find Jay and demand he take me back.
“Watch it,” I heard as I rounded the corner of the studio. Looking up to see who it was that almost plowed into me, I stood my ground.
“There you are,” I spat.
“What is it, Ruby?”
I wished he wasn’t so damn sexy. For a man in his late forties, his salt and pepper hair along with his cool blue eyes got my heart to race every time I saw him. He had a quality about him that could have given Richard Gere a run for his money. Add in the thick southern accent and the way he said my name and it took all I had to remember I was mad at him.
“How could you?”
“Easy. I told you to say the line the way it was written or I would find someone who would. You refused, so I am letting you go.”
“Because of that?”
“Yes. I work with enough of you entitled, spoiled brats. I am done with it. I don’t owe you a thing and if you think about it, I made you who you are. You owe me, Anna White of Stillwater Minnesota. Nobody knew who you were before I made you into Ruby Vincent. And when I make someone, I can also unmake them. So walk away quietly and I will let you keep what I gave you. Your identity.”
“You might have given me the name, but I made Ruby who she is.”
“And I could have taken you all the way. If only you had enough sense to hear what I said instead of fighting me all the time. It’s a shame. I really liked you.”
And I loved you but that didn’t help me. Did it?
“Give me another chance.” I recoiled at the sound of the words that came out of my mouth. I wasn’t the begging type and I wouldn’t start. I wanted to rewind the last thirty seconds and stop them from leaving my mouth, but I couldn’t.
“No. I’m sorry, Ruby. I have given you enough.”
“Whatever.” Flinging my ruby red hair off my shoulder, I reached up and pulled my sunglasses over my eyes even though it was cloudy enough I didn’t need them. I wasn’t going to let Jay see how bad he hurt me.
“Ruby,” he said as I started to walk away.
“What?” I asked turning back to him.
“Maybe you should stick to the writing thing. At least you are good at that and you don’t have to be around people. A skill you severely lack.”
I didn’t say a word to him but continued to walk away before he saw the single tear fall from my eye.
In less than twenty minutes, I had all my things packed into two small boxes and was hauling them to my Prius. The deep red of the car matched my name, and the painted eyelashes over the headlights as a joke always made me smile. Sliding into the driver’s seat, I put my hands on the black wheel cover with the ruby gems embroidered on it and thought about the last thing he said to me.
“Maybe you should stick to the writing thing. At least you are good at that and you don’t have to be around people. A skill you severely lack.”
I didn’t have an issue being around people, they had an issue understanding me. I would show him I was better without him. I would land that dream job that would make me famous and I would rub it in his face with every speech I gave. I was Ruby Vincent after all, and I was better than Jay Russo.
“Going home early?” George asked when I approached the guard shack.
“Kind of.”
“Better get home before this storm hits. I can feel it in my bones. It will be a doozie.”
“Thanks, George.”
He hit the button and the ugly red and white candy-striped pole raised as I made my escape from the humiliation of Jay sending his bitch Tiffany in to fire me.
The sky lit up and thunder shook the ground as I pulled into the underground garage of my apartment. Thankful for the cover and that I no longer had to walk half a block to get to my place, I grabbed one box and left the other. The smaller of the two held the two plaques I had won and the first contract I had signed with Jay back when I was still the timid girl from Minnesota. Setting it down. I took them out and added them to the shelf that held the few treasures I had.
Holding the contract in my hand, I ran my fingers across the bottom of the page. Anna White looked so foreign to me after giving her up to be Ruby Vincent the actress and Holly Stars the author. That life was one I had so long ago; it wasn’t who I was anymore. When I left Stillwater, I left that nobody behind too, and I refused to go back to where I started from.
“Whatever.”
I tossed the piece of paper on the table among the stacks of scribbled writing and turned to my laptop. Opening the screen, I fired it up and while it loaded, I went to the kitchen to grab a glass of wine. I didn’t care that it was ten o’clock in the morning. It wasn’t like I had anywhere I needed to be.
Bing.
Bing.
Bing.
I listened as all the notifications loaded as I downed my first glass. Pouring a second, I walked back to the laptop and grabbed it with my free hand. Walking to the small white leather couch, I pulled my legs under my body as I set the glass of pink moscato on the end table. Rummaging through my emails, I was in a “throw it in the trash bin” frenzy and had the mouse on an email ready to file in the recycle bin when the header caught my eye.
Lee Mathews’ Murder Maker Horror Writing/ Residential Seminar
Curiosity got the better of me and I opened it.
Dear Author,
How would you like to explore the mind of the great Lee Mathews in a six-week writing seminar? You will live on site with Mathews in his home in Maine and learn all he as to teach you about his writing. You will have the chance to become his voice and carry out his legacy should you prove to be the winner at the end of the six weeks.
Your only job would be to learn from him, take constructive criticism, and abandon all you thought you knew about the art of horror writing.
Please respond to this email and the application will be sent out to you on the 16th of next month. You will then have two weeks to fill it out and send it back for farther consideration in the program.
Thank you for your time.
Sincerely,
The Staff of Murder Maker
Clicking the button to respond, I quickly wrote out my answer. Six weeks away from the life I had sounded like a dream.
Dear Murder Maker Staff,
My name is Ruby Vincent. I write under the pen name of Holly Stars. I would love to be considered for a place in your workshop.
Thank you for the chance,
Ruby Vincent.
I clicked the send button before slamming my laptop shut and changing my mind. The same feelings of uncertainty crept in the way they had when I made the move from Minnesota to California. My luck was shit, but it could turn around for me. The only way to know was to try.
Later that night, as I lay in bed tossing and turning, I thought about what happened earlier in the day and the poor choices I had made. I wondered if I called Jay up if he would give me my job back. It wasn’t much, but it paid the bills and in L.A. that was a huge thing. I had a little saved up and would be fine for about three months, but after that, I was screwed. I had to find something fast or face defeat and hightail it back to Minnesota. I knew there would be a lot of people that would love that if for no other reason but to say, “I told you so” and rub my face in it.
My father would have been the first in line for that show. His daughter, the disappointment, the one who made his high school sweetheart leave him, would be the last thing he wanted back in his life. I wouldn’t let that happen. When I left at sixteen, I swore I would never go back.
I kept my promises.
***
I SAT UP TO LOOK AT the clock. 3:28 a.m. blinked back at me. Throwing the cover back, I reached for my sheer robe to drape over my bright red silk nightgown and went back to the living room. Lying there tossing and turning was driving me crazy.
I turned on the laptop and pulled up the wanted ads. There was always someone looking for an actress and I would be the first to apply to any of the new ones I found. Only a few were listed, and I filled them all out. Having to put Jay as a reference terrified me. He wasn’t lying when he said he could make or break my career. The only chance I had was if he was honest and said he wouldn’t block me from getting another gig.
With every application I filled out that only required me to work a few days a week, the rage of that day grew. He had no right to fire me. I was the best thing that ever happened to him and he would regret the fact he dropped me soon enough and beg me to come back.
I was ready to close the computer when another ping came in. Seeing the new email, I clicked on it thinking it was a response to one of the applications I had filled out.
Lee Mathews’ Murder Maker Horror Writing/ Residential Seminar greeted me instead. Curious, I opened the email and found the short form application. The questions were simple, and I had it filled out and ready to send back in no time.
Legal name: Ruby Vincent
Pen name: Holly Stars (ya know, for all us Hollywood Starlets)
Preferred genre: Horror
Years of writing experience: 4yrs
Bestselling titles/awards attained: International Bestseller aiming for USA Today
Number of published works to date: 3
Employment: I work one night a week at the local theater club as Ms. Monroe, other than that, I focus solely on my writing. That’s why I have 3 books in 4 years.
Hobbies: Is drinking a hobby? I love that and old movies. Audrey Hepburn is a goal I strive to be like.
Dietary preferences/restrictions: No red meat, no wheat of any kind. Only fresh fruit and vegetables. I need high end bottled water and it needs to be diet.
Writing goals: To write a book that will get me on the big screen. I want people to know me like they know Lee Mathews. My dream is to have them impatiently waiting for my next great book to release.
Personal goals: To be a famous writer/movie star. I feel like I can and deserve both. I will do whatever Mr. Mathews says to do if it will help me achieve this faster.
In 500 words or less, tell Lee Mathews why you should be chosen to attend this once in a lifetime workshop: I should be chosen to attend his workshop because I will bring to it what he will. I want to be somebody and feel like Mr. Mathews will be the one to help make my dreams come true and to help his legacy live on. He has loads of success and is dying. He will need someone to carry on his twisted legacy and who better than a beauty from L.A.? I will bring charm and a sense of life to the event. People are drawn to me and I feel like I could be beneficial to him that way.
Besides all of that, I have been a huge fan for as long as I can remember. I deserve to be there and to learn from him all he will teach me. After all, there has to be a faster way to success and every Hollywood star needs their story written. With his many books and errors along the way, he can help me learn what not to do to get ahead in my career.
His writing style is something I tried to mimic once and failed. After being rejected from two publishers, I gave up and went into writing romantic horror. While I don’t mind it, the love scenes can get repetitive. I am ready to learn his secrets and ready for a little bloodshed on my pages.
If I am going to take advice and orders from anyone, I would want it to be Lee Mathews. And who knows, maybe we will be more than pen pals by the end.
One item you will bring to the workshop and why it is your chosen item (chosen authors will be stripped of all personal possessions, other than prescribed medications, at the door): My make-up. I can’t be professional if I don’t feel professional.
The part about my work pissed me off, but it wasn’t a lie since I had been let go. My only job was the one night a week at the local theater. Between that and the number of books, at least I didn’t look like a loser.
Double checking my answers, I was satisfied and hit send before I could change my mind or chicken out. Of all the authors who would enter, what would the chances be that I would be one of the selected? The author world was almost as cutthroat as acting. Sometimes worse. When I started out in the Indie writing community, I couldn’t believe the level of childish games I saw adults play. It was enough to make me question if I wanted to be a writer or not.
Then I got my big break with my memoir and things took off from there. That one hit international bestseller before it released, and I was proud of the choice I made to go with a publisher.
Inspiration hit like it usually did when I should have been sleeping, and I opened a new page in Word and started to write down my vampire story. It would be my fourth book in as many years and I was proud of the fact I could get one out yearly. Unlike some slackers who took five to six years to get out four books, I wasn’t weak like them.
Thinking I could get ahead, I started to write dark and twisted on this short I would take with me if I was picked to go to Lee Mathews’ house.
I minimized the screen and went to my browser to google Lee Mathews. I was not disappointed.
For an old man, he was kinda hot in his own way. His white wavy hair and tan skin showed his age, but his eyes...they held sex appeal still. If I could get into that seminar I could charm my way in and steal the whole thing from the others. My looks always got me what I wanted and when that didn’t work, I knew how to put out the moves men couldn’t resist.
His long list of books was detailed at the bottom of the article I stumbled on. My jaw dropped reading the list of over a hundred books. There was no way he wrote all of those on his own. My guess – he had ghost writers. I could do one a year; there was no way he had that many in his lifetime. When I got to the seminar, I would find out how he did it.
Frustrated with his success, I closed the browser and went to the fridge. I had a nice new bottle of wine in there chilling from earlier and I needed a glass. Sending in the application meant no sleep until I heard back. I needed them to not take too long to answer them.
Half a bottle of wine and three sleeping pills later, my head hit the pillow and I was thrust into a whirlwind of strange dreams about writing with the famous Lee Mathews.
***
RING. RING. RING.
Trying to untangle myself from the blankets that gripped me tighter than a straitjacket from the nut house, I fought to break out and grab the phone before they hung up. I knew it would be Jay calling to beg for me back and I wasn’t going to miss the groveling.
Thud.
“Ouch,” I screamed as I landed hard on the floor. My hands were still stuck in the unforgiving blanket and I had no way to catch myself as I crashed. “Fuck.”
The ringing of the phone stopped, and I gave up the fight to break free.
“This is how I am going to die. They will find me trapped here days from now still wrapped up in the damn blankets. I hope my hair and make-up still look good.”
With a sigh, I let my head rest on the floor again and was thankful I bought that extra fuzzy teal rug a few days ago. It didn’t do much for the fall, but at least I wasn’t on the cold hard floor.
Ring. Ring. Ring.
“OMG!”
The fight to get free was back on and I wasn’t going to let the blankets win that round. With one final push to free my arms and a few rolls on the floor, I had one out. Scooting like an inch worm across the floor, I reached up on my nightstand and grabbed hold of my sparkly pink iPhone. Sliding my finger across the screen, it was finally answered.
“Hello.” I tried to slow my breathing, so I didn’t sound like Darth Vader on the other end.
“Hey.”
It was Tiffany, Jay’s personal assistant.
“What?” I fired back doing nothing to hide how annoyed I was at the fact she was the one I fought so hard to break free and talk to.
“Jay asked me to call you. He wants to see you for lunch. Be at Palo’s Mexican Grill in one hour.”
“And if I have other plans?” I fired back.
“Cancel them and be there.”
“I will thin—”
Click.
The sound of the landline being slammed down rattled my hungover brain.
“That was rude.”
With my one free hand, I was able to untangle the rest of the way. Trying to stand was harder than I thought it would be. Stumbling into the bathroom, I took one look in the mirror and groaned. Make-up smudged across my face and the front left side of my hair stuck straight up.
“A firehose wouldn’t even fix this.”
I turned the water to the shower on hot. Reaching into the medicine cabinet, I pulled out the bottle of aspirin and dumped three into my hand. Going to the kitchen, I saw the last of my wine in the glass from the night before. Popping the pills in my mouth, I quickly chased them before going back to the bathroom. Steam flooded the hallway as soon as I opened the door and I let my robe fall wistfully to the floor.
The hot water felt great on the sore spots I knew would bruise from the losing wrestling match I had with my bedding. I soaked for the full ten minutes I was allowed and practiced what I would say to Jay when he begged me to come back to work for him.
Sitting in front of the mirror I had on my vanity, I started to blow dry my hair. When it laid the way I liked it, flowing down my back with the tight curls unwound into soft waves with half pinned up in a loose bun held with my favorite teal clip, I started on the make-up. With only a few hours of sleep and the heavy drinking, it would take Picasso to fix my face. Unfortunately for me, I was all I had. Doing the best I could to make the raccoon eyes fade and the puffiness of my cheeks not look like swollen bee stings, I gave up and went to my closet. I had fifteen minutes to get dressed and walk the three blocks to the Mexican Grill.
One last glance in the mirror and I was satisfied. The tight black lace top clung to my breasts and they lay hidden below the fabric enough to keep his imagination going. My teal pencil knee length skirt rounded my ass nicely and matched the bag I held in my hand.
Putting my sunglasses on before I left the building I felt ready for whatever he had to offer me. I would make him beg a little for tossing me out the other day, but I knew before I walked in that I would take his offer.
My heart raced when I saw him standing by the window with his back to me. For two years I had kept my feelings from him and made him believe I was only after the sex. If he knew how I really felt, he would take that and use it to screw me over in all the ways he could think of. I watched him do it with Amber, the little blonde from Texas and his latest, Jenny from New York. When he found out he had them in the palm of his hand, he walked all over them. I refused to be that woman.
“Hey,” I said placing my hand on his arm. I felt his muscle tighten under the thin fabric of his black silt button down shirt. It matched his hair that was splattered with a beautiful silver. His deep blue eyes cut into me hard and I tried to stop my hand from trembling.
“About time. Didn’t Tiffany tell you an hour? You kept me waiting for three minutes.”
“I was tied up when she called. I got here as fast as I could.”
“Hmm,” he scoffed at me before turning and walking into the dining room behind the server.
It wasn’t a fancy place, but the food was amazing, and everyone loved to go there for lunches. Somehow, none of it seemed as bright and cheery that day. The look he gave me, like I was a piece of trash not even worth picking up off the sidewalk, about shattered me.
“Drinks?” the waitress asked as we sat down.
“Water for me,” Jay said.
“I’ll take a soda, please.”
“No. Bring the fatso a water and make it a diet,” Jay said. The waitress scrunched up her face as Jay laughed. “Today,” he barked at her. She spun in the spot she stood in and took off to the kitchen.
“That was rude,” I fired at him the second she was gone.
“Have you looked in a mirror lately? You look like hell and you have put on an easy five pounds. Add that to the ten the camera adds and you are practically obese.”
“What the hell, Jay? Not like you are some kind of stud.”
“Really? I’ve seen the way you look at me. I know what you want from us and I can promise you, it will never happen. I am not the stay faithful, settle down type. So put your little girl ideas away and embrace real life.”
Sitting back, my eyes grew bigger with every word he spit out. I knew my mouth was hanging open, but he had never been so rude before. I was starting to think that it was a joke. I had to be getting punked and I wasn’t going to be the idiot at the end that was fooled. Closing my open mouth, I straightened up in my chair and folded my hands on the table. I was trembling, but I knew how to hide it well.
“And that is where you are wrong. The only thing I have for you is the need to use you to further my career and the occasional fuck. If I wanted anything more, it sure as hell wouldn’t be with you.”
“Here you go. One regular water and one, um, diet water,” the poor confused waitress said. My glass toppled and almost spilled as she placed it in front of me. The few drops that did make it out landed on the red, white, and green cheesy plastic tablecloth.
“It’s okay,” I said to her as I started to clean it up.
“We will each take a chicken enchilada plate,” Jay said not even waiting until she was ready.
“Anything else?” she asked.
“No. That’s enough,” Jay said dismissing her with the flick of his wrist.
“Why did you ask me to meet you here?”
“Because I wanted to tell you in person that I know about the gigs you applied for last night. It was the first call I got at six this morning. Mr. Hoffman wanted to know what I thought of your work and work ethic.”
“And?” I asked. Leaning in closer, my heart thumped in my chest. I knew he could stop everything before I even had a chance and the way he was acting, that was exactly what I was afraid he had done.
“And, I still have your contract. I own your ass for three more years. Nobody will touch you without going to me first, and if you think I will let you go to them, you don’t know me at all.”
“But I don’t get it. You don’t want me, and you let me go. Why not let me work somewhere else? What am I supposed to do if I can’t act?”
“Go do your book. Maybe you will be somebody with those. You aren’t movie star material. I tried, but I can’t make magic out of a pile of cow shit. Nobody is that good.”
I felt the tears sting my eyes as the lump crept into my throat. I signed a deal with the devil, and he had collected. I wasn’t blocked from acting, but he made sure I wouldn’t get a job without a fight, and nobody was dumb enough to go against Jay Russo.
“Well. I guess we are done here. Thank you for wasting my time.”
“Find something else, princess, because acting isn’t for you. I am doing you a favor.”
His words followed me out of the restaurant as I briskly walked away from him. I wouldn’t let Jay see the pain he caused me. Taking a left out of the restaurant instead of a right to my place, I made my way to the movie store. I picked up a copy of Audrey Hepburn’s Roman Holiday and headed to the liquor store. The day was a wash, so drowning my sorrows in old movies and wine sounded like the perfect medicine to fix it.
Walking into my apartment, I ignored the blinking on my answering machine. The six new messages could wait until I felt better. Not like they weren’t all calls of rejection anyway. Six was the number of ads I answered late last night. I didn’t have to be a genius to know all I had waiting for me were rejections.
I flung off my silk top and skirt letting them sit where they landed. Undoing my bra, I flung it in the corner of my room along with the rest of the clothes I hadn’t bothered to put away since the last time I did laundry. I dug in the smaller pile at the foot of my bed and found my light pink sweatpants and matching hoodie. I tossed the pants on and wiggled into the top before grabbing the pin that held my hair up and shook it to let it fall.
Two bottles of wine and three Audrey Hepburn movies later, I was starting to feel less sorry for myself. Not wanting to hear the messages still, I grabbed my laptop off the coffee table and opened it. Sorting through the junk mail and not seeing anything from Jay, I was about to close it when a headline caught my eye.
Lee Mathews’ Murder Maker Horror Writing/ Residential Seminar
Cautiously, I brought the mouse to the message and let it sit there without opening it. I had enough bad news for the day, and I was almost out of wine. The thought to run to the store for more crossed my mind, but then I heard my dad’s voice telling me to pull the Band-Aid off fast and deal with the sting after.
With one fast movement, I clicked it and closed my eyes. It was open, but I didn’t want to see it. Shaking my head and battling the urge to close it again, I opened my eyes to read the rejection.
June 1, 2020
Dear Applicant,
Congratulations! We are pleased to inform you that you have been selected to attend Lee Mathews’ Murder Maker Workshop/Retreat. This is no small achievement. With over 300,000 applications, Mr. Mathews and his team have clearly seen something special in either you or your work. Whether it be your co-dependency on bunny rabbits, your infatuation with Tide pods, or your desire to genre hop past smut, Mr. Mathews looks forward to working closely with you to help hone your skills and goals. In fact, he insists. Mr. Mathews is a man with an eye for detail.
Attached, you will find a packet of information regarding the structure of the workshop and other important details. As previously noted, selected candidates will be allowed to bring one personal item into the workshop. All other items will be stored during your time at Lee’s estate. There will be no exceptions to this rule unless you are on a prescribed medication. Bring prescriptions with you as we will be double checking.
You are to arrive at the front entrance for check in by 5 pm on Sept. 1, 2020. Mr. Mathews has exactly zero tolerance for tardiness. If you don’t show, your spot will be given to another eager author. Be ready. Transportation is entirely on you. Find a way to get here or don’t show up. We don’t beg. If you have any questions regarding the Murder Maker Workshop, please contact Lee’s assistant, Alice Brown.
Again, congratulations on this achievement. Be sure to return the liability and disclosure forms by the 5 pm deadline of July 1 to hold your place in the workshop. Final warning: Five will arrive. One will die. Will you be the one to steal Mr. Mathews’ legacy? See you in September. Happy writing. #StayRisky #KillYaSoon
Sincerely,
The staff of Murder Maker
Reading it again, I still didn’t understand what it meant. If there had been over 300,000 applicants, how in the world was I one of them that made it in? Part of me worried it was a trick sent by Jay and his conniving assholes who worked for him, but how would he have known about the application I submitted? It wasn’t like the film industry where they would have gone to him before taking me on.
I clicked on the attachment in the email and quickly glanced at all the shit I would have to fill out and return. In the morning, I would go to the local printing shop and have the whole thing printed out.
After the day I had, all I wanted to do was have another drink and put in one more classic movie. Besides, it was after five in the evening. What had to be done for the workshop didn’t need to be taken care of for a few more weeks. I would wait until it got closer to the deadline to send them in just in case they changed their mind about having it. No point in wasting my time or stamps if it wasn’t a sure thing.
To meet Lee Mathews though, that kept popping into my head as I tried to concentrate on The Breakfast Club. Uncrossing my legs, I opened the laptop again and searched for him once more. Reading through his public information, I figured I could get the advantage by knowing all I could about him. I hadn’t read one of his books in years and couldn’t remember any. I decided I should reread one before I committed to the six week stay with him,
Going to my favorite shopping site, I searched for his name and looked for his shortest book. The list felt like it would never end. Sick of scrolling through them all, I looked him up on the website again and asked for his shortest. Finding the title, I went back and looked at the page count before hitting “add to cart.”
“Shit. Two hundred pages is his shortest? That will take me a week to read.”
I added it to my cart along with a new top and earrings. It would be there in a few days and I would start it then. I wanted the shortest because if I didn’t like it, at least it would only be a few weeks out of my life. At least it would give me a head start on the other fools. Happy with my choice, I sat back and finished my movie while I waited for the Chinese takeout to get there.
***
THE NEXT NIGHT I DECIDED to go out. Sick of being stuck in my apartment alone, I was determined to have a good time. It was a Thursday night and the best club in town had ladies’ night. I would get in free and, if I played my cards right, would drink free all night too. It wasn’t a high-end club, but the music was good and the crowd was rowdy. That was what I needed to boost my mood and kick the stink Jay left all over me.
“Ruby. Haven’t seen you here in forever,” Johnny said when I got closer to the door. “Looking fab as always.”
He reached for my hand and when I gave it to him, he brought it to his lips and kissed it. Johnny was over six feet tall with a killer bod. His big bald head and creamy brown skin made him a magnet for attention, but hearts all over L.A. broke as soon as he opened his mouth. It was clear by his flamboyant movements and overly exaggerated feminine qualities that women were the wrong sex to attract his attention.
“Hey, Johnny. Work kept me busy, but it was time to get out.”
“Gurl, it is always time to party. I think I saw Marty, Vance, and Devin inside. They will be so happy to see you.” His hand flipped up by his face as he finished his exciting news about who all showed up. I was ready to get in there and forget the past week.
“Thanks. Catch ya later.”
It took my eyes a few minutes to adjust to the dimly lit club. The bright sweep of the strobe lights did little to help that, but it was also a good way to see where everyone was. I made my way to the bar first to get a drink before tracking them down. Casing the long countertop, I spotted a man who was watching me from the side of his eyes. I moved closer to him and made sure I had his attention as I placed my order.
“Whisky sour, please,” I yelled to be heard over the music. The bartender nodded before turning his back to me. I leaned over the bar enough that my cleavage was visible to the stranger on my right. As soon as I heard the grunt come from him, I knew my drink would be free.
“Whisky sour,” the bartender said handing me the drink.
“I’ve got this,” my stranger friend said and pulled out a twenty from his worn-out leather wallet.
“Thanks,” I replied as I brought the straw to my lips. Playing with the tip of the straw on my tongue, I licked it before taking it in and sipping the liquor. When the bartender handed him back his change, I made my move and got out of his line of sight.
“There you are,” a voice yelled out louder than the blaring base pounding my chest with every beat. “Where the hell have you been?”
“Nice to see you too, Vance.”
“Yeah,” Devin added in her squeaky voice. She always sounded like she had a cold and no matter how many times I tried to clear my throat for her, the phlegm sound never went away.
“I was busy working,” I yelled over the music as Marty came up and put his arms around Devin.
“We heard you got fired.” Marty screamed the last part just as the music ended and the whole floor turned in our direction.
“Really?” I asked and walked away from them. The last thing I needed was shit from them.
“Ruby, come on. He was just talkin to you,” Devin said running up behind me to stop me from leaving. “He didn’t mean anything bad by it.”
“Sometimes you all could stand to learn how to keep your mouths shut.”
“I know. It wasn’t the best way or time to bring that up.”
Hanging her head, she swirled the ice in her glass around with her straw. Shaking my head, I tried to blow the whole thing off. I came out to have fun and being pissed at them wasn’t the way to do it.
“Whatever. Come on. I love this song.” Grabbing her hand she was stirring with, I felt droplets of her sticky drink hit my wrist as I dragged her out to the dance floor.
We ended up closing the place down and by the time we left, none of us were in any shape to drive. Walking, or stumbling, down the hill we made our way loudly to the all-night diner for some coffee and appetizers to help us sober up.
Halfway through the buffalo wings and on the second pot of coffee, the conversation slowed to a more normal volume and the topic got real.
“I’ll miss seeing you on set,” Vance said.
“Yeah. I don’t know, it’s been nice not being there.” It was a lie and they knew it, but I wasn’t going to let them know how bad Jay had hurt me.
“So what are you going to do now?” Devin asked shoving another wing in her mouth.
“I looked into some casting calls and even replied to a few ads, but Jay has me mad blocked on getting work and the fucker thinks it’s funny. He’s being so unreasonable and a total asshole. I wish I never would have met him.”
“All you had to do was say the damn line,” Marty snarked.
“It was a stupid line. His whole scene didn’t make sense and he knew it. If he can’t take advice from anyone, then he is the moron. I was right in telling him how he should do it.”
“Do you hear yourself? It was a job and a good one. You blew it because you had to be right. I think you are the moron, Ruby,” Marty fired at me.
“I was right, and you know it too. Jay got weird the last few months. My guess, he is on drugs and they aren’t helping him.”
“That’s a big rumor to spread,” Devin spoke barely above a whisper.
“You should have seen him the last time I did. He was screaming at me in the restaurant for no good reason. Then he got in my face,” I said and leaned into Marty for effect. “He swore he wouldn’t blackball me, but he would make sure I didn’t get a job either. How am I supposed to get work as the amazing actress I am if he is cock blocking me at every turn? I have bills to pay too, ya know.”
“Should have thought of that before you went all diva on him,” Marty scoffed.
“Fuck you. I don’t need any of you or Jay.”
“Oh yeah? Cause it seems to me like we are all you have,” Devin said. Her voice raised a little and I knew I had struck a nerve with her.
“That’s what you think. In a few months, I am outta here.”
“What does that mean?” Vance almost choked on his soda when I said that.
“It means,” I exaggerated, “I have been picked to go to a six-week workshop with the famous Lee Mathews. Soon I will be out of here and I won’t be a nobody loser like you guys anymore.” I brushed my hair off my shoulder exposing the soft tan skin my shirt left uncovered.
“What? Yeah right. There’s no way you would be good enough for that,” Marty laughed.
“I was and I am. I beat out thousands of applicants and he wants me.” The heat crawled up my neck and hugged my cheeks. I felt the burning start and tried to calm down so I wouldn’t hit them.
“Prove it,” Marty continued.
“Fine.” I whipped out my phone, pulled up my emails, and went to the acceptance letter.
I watched as they leaned over Marty to read it. After a few minutes of stunned silence, Vance was the first to speak.
“Congratulations, I guess?”
“Don’t say that,” Marty fired. “She could have faked this. Have any of you read her shit? She probably is as good a writer as she is a wannabe actress.”
“I didn’t fake it. You’ll see. I will go there and charm the hell outta Mathews. Before the thing is over, I will have him in love with me and I will be his next project.” I slammed my hands on the table making everything jump.
Devin looked down at the table like there was something on it worth seeing. Vance’s mouth opened and closed like a fish trying to breathe out of water, and Marty refused to stop laughing.
“Screw you. I don’t need any of you. You wait. I will make it big cause I am better than you all combined.”
“Oh yeah? And whose name should we watch for? Ruby Vincent or Holly Stars? Or do you have another name we should be watching for? Seems like you have enough skeletons in your closet to supply the whole damn town,” Marty snorted.
“Does it matter? The point is you will see one of them.”
Without another word, I stood up, grabbed my purse, and walked away from them. I knew who I was and what I could be. If they didn’t, that was on them. I deserved that shot with Lee and I was going to take it. I would prove to all of them that I was a somebody and not a nobody like them.
***
JUNE AND JULY FLEW by and it was well into August. With the seminar coming up closer, I had a lot to think about. Jay kept his word and blocked me from any work outside the theater company I was lucky enough to have before Jay fired me. With that being the only thing I had outside the house and it still being just the one night a week, I had plenty of time to think about what led up to the point I was at.
My role as Marilyn Monroe had been a blast to do and since I had gotten “closer” to Rocky, the man who ran the theater, he let me go off script a little. At least he knew how important I was and valued the fact I was there. He even gave me extra money to keep my apartment and liked to take me out on the weekends; sometimes even during the week.
It was one of those nights I was with him and the night I knew he was the one I thought I loved.
“Ruby,” he yelled barging into my apartment.
“Yeah?” I asked setting my wine glass down on the coffee table and pausing Breakfast at Tiffany’s.
“What are you doing? It’s like four in the afternoon. Have you gotten dressed at all?” His face twisted to one side as he looked over at the empty wine bottle and bag of chips lying next to it. I had my unwashed hair pulled up in a ponytail and my favorite pair of sweats on.
“Kinda. I have clothes on,” I teased. Pulling my legs up under my body, I tucked them into a pretzel under my butt.
“I see that, but you look like a slob. I am not taking you out looking like that.”
“Out? Out where?”
“To this new club I found down by the studios.” His face beamed with the potential idea of mingling with famous people.
“Really?” I whined.
“Yes. Get dressed.” He pulled me off the couch so fast, my feet almost didn’t get out quickly enough and I stumbled forward. “How much have you had to drink already?”
“Not nearly enough for this shit.”
“Suck it up,” he said and smacked me on the ass. “It will be fun. You’ll see.”
Grunting, I shuffled off to the bathroom to shower and get ready. I knew him enough to know I wasn’t getting out of that. The only thing I had going for me was if I went, I could make him take me home an hour after we got there. All I had to do was promise him a blow job when we got back to his place.
“That’s better,” he said smiling when I walked out in my tight little forest green dress that hung off my shoulders and the six-inch black heels he loved.
“Good. Sure you wouldn’t rather stay in?”
I ran my fingers down the front of his shirt and stopped before I got to the zipper on his jeans.
“Um, you are making a great argument for it, but I want to take you out and show you off.”
“Really?”
“Come on. It won’t kill you.”
“No, but it might kill you,” I muttered.
“What?”
“Nothing. Let’s go.”
I grabbed my purse, flung it over my shoulder, and purposely bumped him as I walked out.
The place was packed when we got there, and the line went halfway around the block. The music was loud enough to hear as soon as he parked and opened his door. The way he carried that dumb smile on his face was the only reason I continued with the bullshit of going inside the club where I would probably run into the three snobs.
Rocky opened my door and helped me out of his car. We walked closer to the front and I expected it to be close to closing by the time we reached the front of the line. Not that I cared, but I had a movie and wine waiting for me at home and being outside the club only blocks from the studio was the last place I wanted to be.
It took me a second to realize he was leading me past the line and straight to the front. The bouncer looked less than amused at his arrogance.
“Rocky Moses,” he said as he approached the goliath of a man now standing cross-armed blocking the door. “Look,” he insisted when the bouncer didn’t move.
I watched him run down the papers attached to the clipboard before pausing.
“There you are. Go on in.” He stepped to the side to let us pass but made a point to graze against me as I walked through.
“How did you get on the list,” I shouted in his ear to be heard over the music.
“A friend pulled some strings for me. Come on. Let’s get a drink first.”
“Sounds good.”
He went to the bar and left me standing there alone. Looking around at the posh new club, I could see why he wanted to go so bad. The music was killer, and the light show was better than any I had seen before.
Hands came up and grabbed me around the waist pulling me into the front side of him. Shocked he didn’t have the drinks but figuring the line might have been too long, I reached down to stroke his arms. I froze when I felt the hair and saw the pasty white instead of mocha brown skin. Spinning around, I almost ran face first into him.
“What the actual fuck do you want?” I screamed.
“Nice to see you too,” Jay replied. His crooked smile made me physically sick as I stood there and began to shake.
“It will never be nice to see you again. Excuse me.” Pushing him to the side, I tried to get around him to lose him in the crowd. Blocking my escape, he planted his lips on mine before I could object.
“I sure missed you, Anna.”
“It’s Ruby to you.” Taking the back of my hand, I wipe his slobber off me. Looking around desperately for Rocky, I spotted him feet away with his mouth dropped open. He set the two drinks on the ledge of the railing surrounding the dance floor. “Rocky!” I tried to yell to him, but he turned and walked away. Jay stood there blocking any shot I had at getting to him.
“See, now you are free.”
“You’re an ass.”
“Maybe. But you were mine once and I don’t share well with my things.”
“I’m not yours anymore. Now move.”
Pushing him aside, I made it out in time to see Rocky speeding off. I was left stranded in the parking lot.
“Ready to come with me?” Jay asked coming up from behind. He stood there laughing as a good man drove away leaving me with a pig.
“No. Never again. I don’t need you.”
“Seems to me like you do. At least let me drive you home.”
“No.” I started to walk away. There were plenty of places to go while I waited for an Uber. Jay would never be an option again.
“Whatever. Fuck you too, Ruby. You were and always will be a loser.”
Pissed I didn’t jump at his offer, he walked away cussing under his breath. I knew he would spin it so I was the one that had begged for him. I didn’t care anymore. In two weeks I was out of there and whether I won or not, I was never coming back to L.A. again.
I tried to reach Rocky the whole way to my apartment. Walking up the steps, I stopped when in front of my door was a box containing all the things I had left at his place. There was a note on the top. Reaching for it as I closed the door behind me, I sat on the stool by the counter.
Ruby,
It is clear we are in two different stages in our lives. I thought I could handle it, but I saw the look on your face when Jay kissed you. It’s clear you aren’t over him yet. Until you are, this is goodbye.
Rocky
I crumpled the note and tossed it in the trash. From the chicken scratch handwriting I knew he was pissed. Grabbing a new box from the hall closet, I taped the bottom and started to pack. That was all I needed to hear to know Hollywood wasn’t the right place for me.
In two weeks, I would be on my way to Maine and in the house of the “amazing” Lee Mathews. One way or another, I would make him see I deserved to be by his side writing with him and learning all I could to make my dreams come true. When his workshop was done, my name would be famous, and people everywhere would read about Holly Stars aka Ruby Vincent. My name would be as common as his or Oprah. I had one shot, six weeks to make it my reality, and I would do whatever it took to make it come true. I was done being a nobody when I knew I was a somebody.
***
THE MORNING I WAS SET to leave for Maine was one I would never forget. The temperature was smoldering, and my nerves were at an all-time high. I was hours way from the East coast and my chance meeting with Lee Mathews. I played over and over in my head how he would be and how I would win him over.
My future was about to start, and he would make me better than I had ever been before.
Look out Maine, Ruby Vincent was moving in.
