Chasing Rainbows - Part Eleven

Chapter 11

It was the last thing that Emma expected, the last voice she’d expected to hear lilting down the phone line. The last few days she’d almost forgotten about him...her husband. Jacob. For a moment she floundered unsure what to say. She’d hoped that her escape was all she’d need. But Jacob Coren wasn’t having any of that. Obviously.

                “I...” it was futile. “I thought it was for the best.” Was all she could offer. What could she say otherwise?

His laugh was fairly derogatory and it instantly put Emma on edge. “What the best outcome was my new wife running away?”

She gasped, was he taking this whole thing serious? Was he seeing this as more than what it was? A great big mistake! “I’m not your wife!”

He laughed again, “oh I think you’ll find that you are! And running away isn’t going to make that fact, or me go away!”

                “Look, Jacob. This should never have happened, we need to get the marriage annulled, then we can both get on with life. Ok?”

Not waiting for a reply she hung up, then stood staring at the phone, heart racing, fingers over lips, whole being shocked into silence.

Jacob looked at the handset stunned. Well that hadn’t turned out as he’d intended. He had no idea why he’d started the conversation so defensively. He KNEW why she’d run away. And in truth, he might have done the same had he woken first, and if it they hadn’t been in his room. It was all a little surreal, no, a lot surreal and he had wanted to speak to her, work out a solution that suited them both, instead he’d been defensive, she’d been angry, and now they had a standoff. Great work Coren! He mentally chastised himself as he headed for the kitchen, and a beer.

He’d try again; give her some time to calm down. After all, Andy had made him realise it was imperative to sort out this mess...asap.

Emma looked at the barely packed suitcase and the huge pile of clothing that would never fit in it. Isobel was sat cross legged on her bed, a grin on her face.

                “Ok, so it’s California in late May. How hot can it be?” She pulled out her phone and checked out the weather. “Wow! Mid twenties in Los Angeles...are you based there?”

Emma looked up from her position on her hands and knees burrowing in the bottom of her wardrobe, “well I fly to LAX, then I’m at the mercy of Jeremy, Clarence’s equivalent on the West coast. He’s arranged an apartment for me, one that won’t suck all my as yet unpaid earnings, and then I don’t know. I think there’s some photo shoots, costume checks...not sure otherwise.”

Isobel flopped on her bed, “I am SO jealous of you! I wish I was following my dream to LA!”

Emma felt her eyes widen, “really? You have a job you love, a beautiful home, and are about to marry the man of your dreams, someone who worships you no less! And you are envious of me?” Her laugh was self deprecating, “I’m so nervous! I mean this is everything! For years I’ve had this pipe dream, and if this fails...well my parents will be right. I’ve wasted the prime years of my life chasing rainbows.”

Smiling Isobel hated seeing the trauma in her friend’s eyes, “it’s not a rainbow! It’s everything you are!” Then she winked, “and we all know there’s a pot of gold at the end of every rainbow!”

Emma wished she could share her friend’s optimism, but her anxiety and nerves that were dominating her life had appeared way before the trip to Vegas and the disastrous way that had ended.  Nope she’d started to realise that it was fear, fear that was ruining her life. She had no idea what to do, how to change things if this part led to nothing.

As she pondered her future, the doorbell interrupted them. Emma made for the hallway, and Isobel followed, on the proviso of getting more coffee. Pulling open the door Emma smiled at the postman who stood with a small parcel in his hands.

                “Got to sign for this one love!” He offered her a pen, and indicated a box on his clipboard. Taking the parcel that was no more than a padded envelope, she closed the door and headed for the kitchen in the wake of her friend.

                “What is it?”

Emma shrugged accepting the fresh mug of coffee, “US postmark.”

                “Something from your new employer Theo Samuel?” she asked excitedly clapping her hands. “Open it! Quickly!”

Muttering under her breath pretending she wasn’t as curious as her friend, she started to pick open the packaging. Inside was a folded paper, pulling it out, she gasped as a pair of pretty black lace knickers fell onto the table. Not just any knickers, but hers. The ones that were last seen in a certain Las Vegas hotel room.

                “What the...?” Isobel made to ask as she saw the words on the paper that had encased the panties.

               

                ‘Tempted to keep these as a souvenir of my beautiful and willing wife...but it seems YOU need some reminding! Legally mine Miss White, or should I say Mrs Coren? Legally mine!’

It was his response to her brushing him off a few days earlier, a sign that he knew all about her, where she lived, worked...and he wasn’t allowing her to run off.

                “What the fuck?”

Shit!  Emma’s head snapped up, she’d forgotten her best friend was there, a witness to her dirty secret, then flinched, she’d never heard her friend use that expletive so readily.

                “Wife? Emma?”

Slumping into the chair at the small table she hid her face in her hands, tears falling on to her scorching cheeks. This was what he wanted, to humiliate her. She felt a hand on her back and eventually managed to look up at her friend.

                “What the hell have you done?” It was said in such an understanding, caring way that it brought another bout of tears to her face.

                “Vegas...” she finally blubbed. “I woke up married...”

Despite everything, Isobel took the news remarkably well, she was calm and composed as she placed a hand over one of Emma’s and sighed, “Shit! I knew you were acting strangely, but I NEVER predicted that! Was it the poker player?”

Emma nodded, glad that her friend didn’t judge her, criticise her, “I don’t really remember it...”

That wasn’t strictly true. Over the last ten days memories of the evening had been flooding back in quite graphic detail and was making ignoring what happened even more difficult.

When she looked up Isobel had an eyebrow raised in question, “seems he hasn’t forgotten!”

The shame and pain were overwhelming, and there were a week’s worth of tears desperate to fall. Isobel slid her chair a little closer to her friend and put an arm around her shoulder. “How would we all survive without a White crisis every now and then? They are after all the most spectacular” She wanted to make light of her friend’s pain. And Emma couldn’t argue with her, she had often fallen into disasters and needed the help of her friend, though this was maybe the worst example. “And surely you can annul? I mean I remember Brittany Spears did exactly the same!”

Emma groaned, “so I get put into THAT bracket? Jeez! Thanks!” They both laughed and the mood lightened. “Seriously though, I called Marcia Blackstone...” She had to pause as Isobel burst into laughter.

Marcia was another college friend who was a junior partner in a London law firm. And boy didn’t the world know it! She was the most confident and least modest person known to man. Every conversation started with a name drop or an example of just how wonderful she’d been that day/week/hour. She was really only tolerable in small doses, Isobel knew that advice from a family law lawyer would have ultimately cost less than the favours Marcia would rack up for any advice offered. Poor Emma, it must be bad!

                “Anyway!” She widened her eyes trying to express how difficult this position was. “She said that to annul a Vegas marriage I have to prove that I, or rather WE have been residents of Nevada for six weeks.  And I have to prove that I was too inebriated to consent to the marriage.”

                “And were you?” Isobel was all sympathy again. Her friend knew that a six week stay in Nevada was way out of the question.

                “I was drunk...but I signed the certificate. I agreed to it, I wasn’t coerced into anything.”

Isobel shook her head, “what a...”

                “Mess!” Emma finished for her, “this is hell. I just need to sort it out as soon as I can. I mean this is the eve of the greatest thing in my life and I’ve got this going on! It’s hell!”

Emma had had no idea how good it would feel to finally share this news. It had been eating at her like a cancer since the moment it had become reality. Now things seemed a little easier, a little more palatable.

                “Sorry I didn’t tell you...I was hoping to deal with it, and then no one would have to know.”

Isobel sighed, “I don’t judge you Em, you know that. You can tell me anything!”

Emma laughed, “speaking the words is accepting that it has happened. I’ve not been ready for that!”

                “But don’t you see? The timing is perfect. You’re going to California, find him sort it out, then it’s all done...and dusted.”

As the plane flew across the Atlantic, her return to North America, Emma rued the easiness that they’d accepted that solution. Despite Jacob knowing everything about her, he was far more evasive and elusive than her. After not being able to find even the slightest hint of Jacob, she’d hoped that he’d contact her again. But the infuriating man was doing anything but. So she was flying out to prepare for her new job, new everything with this absent man infuriating her with every step.

The steward on the flight was flirting with her, she’d already had more drinks than anyone else on the flight, and now he was bringing her snacks that she hadn’t requested. Each time he gave her a dazzling white toothed grin and a wink.

Another time she might have flirted back. But that had got her in real trouble recently; she couldn’t afford to let her defences down again. So she smiled politely and ignored him and his pheromones.

Jeremy Booth was the complete contrast to Clarence. Tall and reedy he was charismatic and laughed a lot - genuinely. Considering he was the first person she’d met in Hollywood, she couldn’t help smile at the irony. He had collected her in a soft top Cadillac, and she was glad she’d applied sunscreen as they cruised the City with the top down.

The apartment he’d found for her was little more than she had in London. Her London home barely qualified in description as a flat, a lounge/kitchen, a small bedroom and an even smaller bathroom. But this one, on the third floor of a Santa Monica apartment block whilst having little more in terms of size, had a view, of the beach! And it made up for everything. It didn’t take long to unpack, and she had the rest of the day to herself, so she slid into some summery clothes and headed outside. Jeremy had left her details of a rendez vous with her new team the following day, and an itinerary for the next few days.  So she knew she had the evening to herself, and it was bliss!

How did you approach a Hollywood superstar? Emma could barely move for her shaking knees. She’d presumed she’d be meeting one of the production assistants, she had no idea that the man himself, Theo Samuel would be sat across the hotel lobby waiting patiently for her. She had to give herself a reality check. She had a small part in half the episodes of this series. Her spoken scenes may still end up on the cutting room floor; there were no guarantees in this world, that’s the only thing she knew for definite.

Taking a deep breath she lifted her shoulders and strode across the reception to him.

                “Mr Samuel? I’m...”

                “Emma White!” He stood and vigorously shook her hand, “I’m SO glad to see you again!” He looked her slowly up and down, and Emma’s nerves were on edge, if she’d known she was meeting him she might have dressed a little differently. Her jeans and fitted shirt seemed all too casual. Then she wriggled her toes and remembered that she was wearing her Laboutin shoes...they gave her the confidence she needed. And she met his smile head on, ignoring the voice that reminded her just who bought her the amazing kick ass shoes.  Jacob Coren had no place in her thoughts today.

                “No criticisms today though, hey?” Suddenly he reminded her of the faux pas she’d made at their last encounter. As she stammered to find an appropriate response, he laughed, “It’s ok! I find it SO refreshing to hear the truth! The last few years my days have been filled with people willing to please me...your honesty was a major plus in my decision to hire you!”  He saw her jaw drop and quickly added, “along with your acting skills of course! They appealed first!”

With a dramatic ‘Phew’ he led her by the elbow towards the restaurant. “Come and have brunch! There are a few other people to meet, and a lot to fit in over the next few days!”

Chasing Rainbows - Part Ten

Chapter Ten

                “You did what? Are you out of your tiny fucking mind?”

Jacob leaned back against the headrest, and closed his eyes. It was so unlike his best mate Andy to be so derogatory, so angry, but he appreciated the stress he was under and how he’d only increased that by announcing his news as soon as he’d sat in his car. It wouldn’t go down as one of the greatest things he’d ever done, but done it was. Emma’s smile burst into his brain like an explosion of light and for that split second he couldn’t believe it was wrong. But she had disappeared, and he had NO idea where she was.  And with her went any opportunity to control that, he’d never felt so confused, and so out to sea.

Finally opening his eyes, he rolled his head to take in the angry face of his best friend Andy, the scowl so evident despite his eyes being fixed intently on the road. He was angry, and trying his best to keep it under control.

Jacob sighed, “Ok, it’s not ideal; I mean it was hardly planned!”

Andy shook his head, “we...you are on the verge of something massive, and you go and tie yourself to some stranger?

Jacob sighed, his head still pounded and he found it hard to believe he’d made it back to San Francisco feeling as he did. And he was doubly glad that Andy was able to collect him from the airport. Of course Andy was right, the whole situation was ridiculous, but there was nothing he could do to change the last twenty four hours. And he wasn’t sure that he wanted to change anything. Until she’d run away, Emma had been a breath of fresh air, refreshingly different. It had stunned him when she’d run away.

                “How ironic that it was the night that you pocketed a cool half a million!” Andy was still ranting. “Gold digger much? I cannot believe you didn’t see it coming!” Frustrated at the lack of answers his friends starting snapping questions at Jacob, “so where does she live? What does she do? Have you arranged to see her again? Can you annul this shit?”

Jacob groaned, “she’s English...beautiful, and funny. That’s all I know! I have no idea how or where to find her, because she ran out on me this morning, ok?” He gulped at the sudden wave of emotion that hit him at the thought of ending the marriage. He had to talk to her, had to work out what they were going to do. Because she was all he described and more, and he was more than a little gutted that they hadn’t had the chance to speak this morning, make plans. But she’d run out on him, leaving him to nurse the hangover from hell.

                “At least you won the competition, but that was meant to be payment to your father NOT alimony to wife who’s miraculously appeared in the world! I mean come on Coren, you need to focus here. The next six months are make it or break it!”

Jacob groaned, it was alright for Andy, he’d done all that was expected of him, at thirty three he’d just become partner in a corporate law company. He’d excelled in all he did, achieving everything at a record young age; he even had the beautiful actress girlfriend and the house in the best postal district in the city. He was everything that Jacob’s parents wanted in a son, but didn’t have. In fact he was the epitome of the success the whole of the world seemed to want to instil in him.

But Andy wasn’t like the rest, he didn’t presume, he didn’t judge, and he didn’t think that the hotshot lawyer was too good to hang out with the skateboarding drop out. He was the only person from his Ivy League School that he still saw and spoke to. And he was never usually this judgemental or angry, no matter what happened in their lives.

Jacob pulled his baseball cap down over his still aching eyes and sighed, “Andrew French, you are being a complete bastard kicking me when I’m down. Can you get me home already?”

Andy groaned, and hit the gas. What a mess.

Jacob loved his grandmother’s house; it was more of a home than his childhood home ever had been. A brightly painted and well weathered clap board house overlooking a beach several miles outside town, across the road was a beach cafe, and flanking the beach was a promenade perfect for skateboarding - which was still his first love. Growing up near San Francisco in the nineties had been like a dream for Jacob, people from all over the world came to the city to skateboard, and he’d met SO many heroes doing just that. It was different now, it was frowned upon, blocked in most places, but in his quiet suburb, it was different.

As he climbed out of Andy’s sports car, pulling his back out of the back seat, some kids called to him from the walkway that skirted the beach.  “Jacob, you coming to teach us that tail slide like you promised?”      

He groaned, he was fit for nothing. “Benny, I’m bushed mate, can I do it tomorrow? After school maybe?” He’d involuntarily got himself into this months ago. The kids he’d watched trying their best to skate board along the prom, had one day spotted him busting the moves they were desperate to emulate. And very soon he was teaching them tricks, initially a couple of them, but the numbers were growing.

Benny looked sad, but nodded, “thanks Jacob.” With solemn faces and heads hung with disappointment, they strolled off down the road.

                “Come on loser!”  Andy was already at the front door waiting patiently to get inside and continue the debrief that had started in the car.

                “Andy, I wasn’t lying! I can’t so this today. Not now.”

Andy kicked the door closed behind them, “you don’t want to talk about your wedding, on your wedding day? Why the hell not?”

Jacob shook his head, “I won the money, I can appease my father. What more do you want from me?”

Andy walked straight to the kitchen and pulled a beer from the fridge, “what do I want? All I’m seeing is a series of screw ups that is making this huge LIFE CHANGING deal fly out the window! I mean what if this woman stakes a claim on the half a mill...then your father does as he’s threatened...losing this house will seriously fuck up your plans Coren, don’t you forget that!”

Jacob’s head was throbbing beyond belief, he needed sleep, a shower, some ice cold water...all of the above, what he didn’t need was a lecture, or to have to defend himself when he could barely fathom the last twenty four hours himself. “Can we please discuss this tomorrow?”

His friend shrugged, “It isn’t going anywhere! And I’m flying to Seattle in the morning, staying the night. So no, we can’t talk tomorrow.”

Groaning again Jacob offered all he had, “look when you get back I’ll shout dinner, steak, beer, the works...and by then I’ll at least have an idea of what happened, and what I’m going to do about it, ok?”

Andy studied him for a moment, then sighed, “I only get angry cos you seem so intent on blowing everything. All the time. This deal...”

To Jacob selling his concept, his game, was more than a deal, it was his life’s work, he had NO intention of screwing that up. “It’s more than that to me; nothing that happened in Vegas will threaten it. Ok?”

Nodding Andy drained his beer then left, leaving Jacob to rue the dangers of having a best mate represent you legally!

Exhaustion took over him not long later, and he was more than relieved to find some silence in sleep.

Jacob slowly came around from the deepest dream filled sleep he could ever remember. Though the dreams were strange, nothing was as strange as opening his eyes to see a wedding ring on the bedside table next to his phone and loose change. Suddenly with a ‘whoosh’ of emotion it all came flying back to his conscience. He was married.

To Emma White. Emma White who was an underachieving daughter like himself, temping somewhere in London. Like that made finding her any easier. As if to prove how ridiculous a challenge that was, he typed her name into Google. Over a billion hits...how could you narrow that down? Social networks threw up similar numbers. Who’d have thought it was so popular a name?

Guzzling strong black coffee, he paced the house and tried to plan what to do, he had to see her again, that was obvious. But finding her was looking a little daunting a task. There were more details on the marriage certificate, but he remembered putting that in her bag for safe keeping, at no point did he presume that she’d run away at the first chance, taking it with her.

Married! It still seemed unfathomable, but as his thumb ran over the gold band that was now in his pocket, he knew he couldn’t pretend it hadn’t happened. Because it had. Legally they were married. He couldn’t decipher what that meant to him, all he knew was that he was getting increasingly angry at the fact she’d run away. They were adults! Putting the Atlantic Ocean between them was hardly the right way to deal with this topic. He wasn’t the best at confronting his demons, but he knew that he wouldn’t have abandoned her like this. And as the day progressed he was getting more angry than anything else.

If he was going to find her, he knew that Andy was the most likely to help him do that. And that meant more humble pie! Would he ever be the person giving out that delight? He’d sure as hell spent a lot of time eating it!

The final prototype of his game system was up and running, so he headed to the office of another friend who was seeing it rigorously tested. He wanted to be on hand to problem solve and the best way was sitting it out...even if his heart wasn’t really in it today.

Four hours later and he was slightly more enthused. The serious game testers had found no issue with the format, if anything they were raving about it. It all meant that they could move to stage two of the launch ASAP. Rumour was Sony and Nintendo were willing to fight it out for the rights, if this became everything he hoped, the Vegas money would be pocket change, and he could throw everything back at all his doubters and knockers.

But as he cycled home on the customised BMX bike he’d ridden since his teens, back across the city it wasn’t his parents or anyone’s negativity that haunted him, it was the smiling face on a woman saying ‘I do.’

Eight boys were patiently waiting outside his house when he returned; he smiled at their earnest faces. The last thing he wanted was to do this now, but those kids hero worshipped him, and they were SO enthusiastic!

                “Give me five minutes; I just need to get my board, ok?”

They all grinned then moved across to the boardwalk to wait for him...and practice.

Two hours flew by and for Jacob it was the greatest two hours since he’d woken since he’d woken after his big win. It was a parent looking for one of the boys that alerted them all to how late it suddenly was. And once they’d left all desperately swearing that they would practice the tail slide and it left him to contact Andy to see if he’d managed to find Emma.

                “Emma White!” Andy’s voice was sarcastic as he spoke down the telephone. “How hard did you try? She wasn’t the most difficult to locate you know!”

Emma had officially three days left in work, and then she was heading on a whistle stop trip to LA for a screen test. It was an unnecessary trip in that she had already screen tested in the London audition, but it was really a chance for her to meet the team. She may only be in five of the twelve episodes, but her costumes were the most difficult to cast apparently. So she’d be measured, make up tests, and of course read-throughs with the cast. Then she was home for two weeks before the filming started.

Not that the two weeks would be quiet...anything but! Isobel’s wedding was all set to be quiet, understated, in a way that the sister of a catwalk model could keep it!

Shutting down her computer, she started to close her reception desk as she did at the end of every day, when the phone rang.

                “Hello, Carter Stationary, Emma speaking. How can I help?”

                “Well you can start by telling me why the hell you ran away before I woke up wife dearest!”

Chasing Rainbows - Part Nine

Chapter Nine

 

Thanking the air stewardess, a typically glamorous woman with rather a lot of immaculate makeup, for her third gin and tonic since boarding the flight three hours ago, Emma ignored the accompanying look of distaste and sipped the drink gratefully. She felt like she needed a drink...even after the amount she’d consumed the night before, even after the hellish disaster that night had become.

No, Emma needed something to calm her nerves, desperately. Her hands had been shaking since she’d read the words, “Certificate of Marriage” earlier that morning as she escaped Jacob’s bedroom. She gulped, even his name made her feel sick. As she’d staggered down the corridor to the lifts, she couldn’t comprehend the gold band that adorned her finger, or those printed words.

She’d crossed the strip to their Bellagio suite in a complete daze, legs quaking. Fortunately the whole of the suite was in disarray. Apparently Angelina had failed to come home too, so whilst the questions and enquiries had flown around erratically from the hung over twins, Emma, who was sure she superseded how bad the two sisters felt, managed to deflect all the attention onto the fourth woman.

Emma sighed, despite her attempts; nothing seemed to calm her anxiety. As she gulped at the bitter gin, grimacing slightly, the voice from her right startled her out of her reverie.  

                “Are you going to expand on things then Ms Evasive?” Isobel was looking at her intently.

Emma closed her eyes, savouring the bitterness of the drink as it scorched her dry throat. Fortunately with the chaos of packing, the checking out, and everyone’s sore head, she’d had little time to dwell on the realisation that she’d actually married Jacob the night before.

Married Jacob! A complete stranger.

She shuddered, what a disaster. And she couldn’t hide from that fact anymore. The quiet hushed environment on the aeroplane, the close proximity of her curious and very perceptive friend were all making her come out in a cold sweat. She had nowhere to hide. A little earlier she’d tried to absorb herself in an in-flight movie, but the irony was the choices were ‘Mr and Mrs Smith’, ‘Bridesmaids’, and probably the most ironic ‘What happens in Vegas’, a film where strangers Cameron Diaz and Ashton Kutcher wake up one morning in Vegas married. As if that could happen! She rued with irony before turning it off.

Emma had no idea what it all meant, not really, but she knew that she was desperate to leave Vegas. But now as their plane zoomed miles above America, nothing was feeling any better. She’d imagined that she’d relax, feel calmer, but she didn’t. She felt sick. Was the marriage legal? Was it consummated? The fact that she couldn’t remember anything spoke volumes, and embarrassed her.

But she realised by lunchtime that she was fighting any memories. If anything she was trying to pretend it hadn’t happen. And now as she sat with only her drink for company she’d hated the memories, vague recollections that invaded her consciousness. The kiss in the back of the limo, bare foot splashing in a fountain...then she could picture the Elvis, what she presumed was the wedding, her and Jacob laughing, kissing...he’d hardly coerced her. But the alcohol had lowered her defences and she was now well and truly in a mess.

And she couldn’t share this with her friend, not yet. She had to decipher what this meant to her first - and how she got out of it! She was ashamed, too ashamed to even tell Isobel, and there was nothing she couldn’t tell her. That was how low she’s sunk.

Attempting a smile at her friend she brushed off her concern, “tired, a little stressed. Nothing else.”

Isobel was never one to be easily appeased, “and last night?” She waggled her eyebrows questioningly.

With a groan Emma replied, “ok, so I spent the night with Jacob, the poker player. Then snuck out of his room for the walk of shame this morning, and that’s it!”

                “Just walked away? You hussy you!” Isobel smiled, she was unconvinced, Emma could tell that. “Seriously, that’s not like you. You ok about it all?”

Emma nodded, “of course! I’m hardly a naive virgin!”

Isobel shrugged, her friend was anything but, but she was also a long, long way from being someone who had meaningless one night stands with strangers.  Emma wasn’t ready to take, and Isobel wasn’t about to push her, instead she watched her friend out of the corner of her eye for the rest of the journey.

                “So how was the trip?” Matthew from the post room peeped over her desk a devilish grin on his face. Then he froze as he saw the pale face looking up at him.  “OH! That good, hey? You should have given it another day to get the impurities out of your system girlfriend.”

Emma groaned, she hadn’t slept the previous night. The nausea, the panic, the anxiety were all overwhelming, and finally being alone made everything a million times worse. She was scared, she didn’t know which bit of tying herself to stranger fuelled that fear, but it had taken over her life since the moment she’d escaped from his room. The previous night she’d finally plucked up the courage to unfold the certificate she’d only glanced at after finding in her bag. Reading it she groaned, and then began searching the internet - the reliability of Google when all else failed, and it told her that The Little Chapel was a bonafide wedding venue, and the marriage was official and legally binding.

Despite a desire to bury her head in the sand - Emma was barely able to function, she knew she had to act, do something. But what? She knew so little about the man she married, Jacob Coren. Google had been a little less forthcoming with any details on her h...she couldn’t even bring herself to think of him as her husband, that was plain ridiculous.

Shaking her head, she smiled at Matthew, and retrieved the lighter she’d bought him from her bag, purposely ignoring the wedding ring that still sat in her purse blinking at her in a ‘look what YOU did’ kind of way.

Unaware of her turmoil, Matthew grinned at the gift, and she managed to palm him off with a few stories of drinking and gambling escapades. He left the office a few moments later satisfied. If only everything was that easy. Emma knew that she had to speak to him, Jacob, try and annul the marriage. There was no way they could stay married, they barely knew each other, and they lived on different continents. There was absolutely NO way that there was any option other than ending it, as soon as possible. And before anyone else found out about it.

But finding a missing person didn’t come cheap. Within ten minutes of looking she realised that a private investigator could cost thousands, and there were no recognisable profiles on facebook, twitter or MySpace.

Sighing Emma logged off her computer, never more relieved at making it to the end of the day than this day. As she walked to the bus stop to get a lift home to her quiet and lonely home, her phone rang. When she looked down she saw the office number of Clarence Wellington, the eccentric middle aged man that was her agent. She’d signed with him because he promised her a lot, but also because she loved his flamboyant ways, the first time she’d met him he was wearing an ice blue crushed velvet suit , complete with purple frilly shirt, black patent winkle picker shoes and a hat complete with huge plume, that was worthy of a theatre. And it was a glorious summer’s day, at least thirty degrees. He was a real theatre lovie, and knew everyone and everything to do with the London theatre scene, and he had a lot of contacts in Hollywood too.

The only downside was that every conversation with him ended in disappointment, so she gilded herself for yet more rejection as she connected the call.

                “Emmmmmma! Darrrling!” The greeting was always the same.

                “Clarence! How are you?”

She smiled as his voice rose an octave in excitement, “well, it’s always a grrreeat pleasure to talk to you! I had a phone call just ten minutes ago from the...” he hesitated and she could almost visualise him rifling through the clipboard he always carried. He avoided technology as much as he possibly could. “West Coast Company!” He announced as though she should instantly know what he was referring to. When there was no response from her he laughed, “silly girl, ‘Dieter’s Luck’, the rather gorgeous director Mr Samuel wants you, YOU to play the part of Marian Anderson. This darrrling might just be the break you are searching for!”

Emma rapped excitedly on the door in front of her, by the time the door opened she was about to explode. Isobel smiled at her friend, then spotted the bottle of champagne that she was waving wildly around. “Hey chick! Are we celebrating?”

Emma nodded for a moment she was rendered speechless and couldn’t quite vocalise her news, it was so exciting. Isobel chuckled as she led her silent yet animated friend through to the kitchen. Nathan was in the adjoining dining room some sort of plan or map laid out on the table in front of him.

He looked up and smiled, “Hey Ems, glad to see you’re in one piece too. I hear Vegas was wild...for some more than others!!” With that he gave a theatrical wink, before he too spotted the champagne. “Wow! Celebrating?”

She nodded, smiling at him then spun around to face Isobel. “You know I did an audition, a few weeks back,” when Isobel’s eyes widened in humour - she was always auditioning, Emma groaned, “No, the HOLLYWOOD one!”

Isobel looked at her through eyes half closed, almost in dread, “the Theo Samuel one?”

Emma nodded, “just before we went to Vegas I got the call back?”

                “I knew you’d had the audition...the one when you told him how to kiss? You never said it was a call back! That’s amazing!”

Too happy to explain anything in any greater detail at that moment, Emma offered, “it was a busy time...then there was the holiday...anyway...I’ve only got the bloody part!”

Isobel’s mouth dropped open in amazement. She’d been so worried about her friend since coming home from Vegas; this could be the news that re elevated her friend’s spirits. She admired Emma, for her dedication. She had so many knock backs, both from directors and her own family and friends, but she’d followed her dream with a dogged determination. And this was the moment she’d waited years for.

No words explained that, and none were needed between the two girls, instead they pulled each other into a close embrace then danced and squealed spinning each other around. It was dizziness that caused them to separate, and when they did, a laughing Nathan was opening the champagne.

Sitting a few minutes later, Isobel was still stunned, “so tell me all about this role then! Who are you?”

Emma was sat across the dining table, the remnants of a take away scattered between the three of them. “Well Theo plays a man whose daughter travels back in time to warn him about his future. I play his childhood sweetheart.” She explained the plot as she knew it to the couple.

                “It sounds amazing! Theo Samuel hey? I bet Clarence is in a swirl of hormones at the thought of dealing with his team!” Her agent’s sensibilities were legendary.

                “You should have heard him on the phone. He was almost apoplectic! He’d gone through every emotion in one phone call. I thought he’d have a coronary! ‘Darrling! It’s JUST amazing! Mr Samuel himself requested you...in person. He called me himself!”

Isobel laughed, “the old pouf! I bet he made that a face to face meet so he could drool! He really is so un-PC!”

                “Says the woman calling him a pouf! But you’re right; it was on the short list of his greatest moment’s ever!”

                “SO when do you start?” Nathan asked, his hands linked over his full stomach, leaning back against the chair and watching the women gas.

                “That’s the mad thing. It’s kind of perfect timing. I go out for a few screen tests in a couple of weeks, then the filming starts the week after your wedding! Imagine if the six weeks I’m needed meant I missed that!”

Isobel shook her head, “I cannot even begin to imagine that. I’d kill Theo bloody Samuel myself if he suggested it!”

Later that night, Emma headed home with thoughts on a trip to LA buzzing in her head, but at the back of her mind was the knowledge that when she was in California she HAD to find Jacob...she couldn’t use the ‘H’ word, after all they weren’t really married. Were they?

Chasing Rainbows - Part Eight

Chapter Eight

                “So THIS is what you call the Vegas Experience?”

Jacob looked up at Emma who was stood in front of his reclining seat in the back of the limo he’d hired, her head and shoulders out of the sunroof, the wind blowing her hair dramatically, whipping it around her face.

                “Nope this is merely one of many parts!” he called back, his voice fighting over the music and the loud sounds of the road. Every car was honking the blonde hottie who was dancing out of the top of the car. And she was waving enthusiastically back to everyone, even the gangs of leering men who were squeezed into cabs, who really weren’t deserving of her attention. But he’d found out that she did everything enthusiastically and without restriction. And they’d fitted in SO much since leaving the poker game.

Riding the strip at night was on his list of essential things to do in Vegas, a hastily constructed group of things that was created as soon as he realised it was her first time in the city. Earlier the list had seen them visit the Mandalay Bay Shark Reef Aquarium, an amazing place. It was one of Jacob’s favourite places, and he had taken her hand to drag her through the building until they were on the walkways that passed under the huge deep and sparsely illuminated aquariums.

He gave a running commentary, almost by memory of all the major fish.  They’d been there for a good while before he realised that Emma was shaking with fear. She admitted then to an almost phobia of deep water, and even the sting rays terrified her - after Steve Irwin of course! But as they left, she’d admitted this was close to becoming one of the most exciting days of her life.  Despite that blip!

Next Jacob dragged her on a visit to see an Elvis Impersonator on Fremont, with his Asian appearance he really didn’t look like Elvis, but he had the hair, the rhinestone jumpsuit, and an amazing voice. The whole place was kitsch, full of people looking for a break from the chaos of the strip, and it replaced the previous places as her favourite part of the evening.  As ‘Elvis’ sang, the whole place danced and sang, Jacob had joined in with the excitement, and whizzed her around in a dance to Burning Love before they’d disappeared to yet another item on their whistle stop agenda! The trip up the strip!

Once this car ride ended he was trying to decide whether to take her to paddle in the Bellagio fountain, and evading  the security guards, something he’d never managed to do in all his rebellious years, but was desperate to. Or, and this was his particular favourite - a shot in everyone of the eight bars in New York New York. He’d intended to take her on the open top bus that travelled up and down this ultimate street, but the timing was wrong, and they were in a bit of a rush, and with half a million dollars in his pocket, and for the first time in ages, money was no object, so they had plush, though slightly tacky limousine, complete with strobe light and bubble machine in the back, and enough champagne to serve ten!

Jacob watched her dance intently, the limo driver was booming nineties tunes and Emma had been dancing since the car had started. Now as she swung her arms and wriggled her hips to Living La Vida Loca, all the while belting out the lyrics, he couldn’t help but smile! Where had she been all his life?

Could they fit the paddle AND the tequila bar crawl in? He looked at his watch, it was after three am! Vegas was still coming alive. So throwing caution to the wind, he stood beside her and bumped his hips against hers as he slid through the sunroof with her. Singing and swaying together, Emma called out, “more, more, more!” And the driver obliged, turning around and cruising back along that strip of road.

Finally the car stopped outside New York New York, and the sudden stop sent Emma catapulting across the back seat, and right into Jacob’s arms. They’d come in from the sunroof a few minutes earlier, and were talking, in a “getting drunker by the moment” manner. They liked the same films, comedies of course, the darker the better, and both instantly named Arrested Development as their favourite TV show, though Emma caused Jacob to collapse into bursts of hysterical laughter as she did a monologue of debate between it and her favourite daytime TV show of Judge Judy before finally deciding on the comedy as her number one.

 Jacob had just looked at her and said, “I take it ALL back! We have nothing in common!” Before she was catapulted into him.

                “Wasn’t this where we were earlier?” He asked, pulling her close, his nose touching hers. He could barely think for the fuzz of alcohol, the adrenaline of the evening, and the sensation of Emma sat in his lap.

When she smiled everything turned even fuzzier, and he pulled her back against him in the seat. And then his lips met hers.

Emma felt as though there was a ten ton weight settled on the centre of her head. The bed was luxurious, and she was glad to feel that she had at least made it back. Her last memory...the pain was too great to think clearly, but she remembered the limo...and then tequila... She never had hangovers, not like this, but then she couldn’t even remember what time they’d stopped drinking. And they’d started early evening.  Groaning she rolled onto her side, unable to lift an eyelash, let alone anything else.

On her side her head hurt less. She didn’t want to think about what today would bring, it was their final day in Vegas, their flight home was later that evening. She had to pack...and there was shopping on Eve’s schedule.

She groaned again, this was definitely the wrong thing to have done, and she acknowledged that she was completely to blame. She could only hope that the others felt as rough as she did. Maybe if they didn’t they’d go and leave her? To die!

Emma felt Isobel move next to her, this was the forth night they’d shared the huge double bed, and it had meant the worst sleep she’d had in ages, she was hardly used to sharing a bed with someone. It was the copious, almost drugging level of alcohol that had made her sleep today. Saying that she had no idea what time it was...or what time she had gone to bed. But it was light, tears trickled out of her lids every time her closed eyes moved to her right - the window, light equalled head shattering pain, so she rolled her head so she was almost face down in the pillows. It was quiet, maybe she’d try to sleep again. She needed energy, zest...anything.

But it was no good. She needed medication. She’d packed a smorgasbord of pain killers in anticipation of a killer hangover, though she always imagined it would be the bride to be suffering, not her.

It took five attempts to part her eye lashes, but the flash of pain that accompanied the blinding light was like a red hot poker piercing her eyeball. She had groaned more times since ‘waking’ than she had in the rest of her adult life, but it was automatic. She had no control over it.

Taking a deep and steadying breath, she dragged open an eye then froze. Their suite, her and Isobel’s was huge, and decorated in a sage green colour. This bedroom was different...the layout, the colour, everything.  Suddenly panic took over and pushed her headache to the back burner. Rolling in bed, she had the stark realisation that she was completely naked. Turning onto her other side, she pulled the duvet back from the mound of a person lying beside her, and rather than Isobel’s long, dark hair, she encountered a mop of unruly blonde hair, a tanned face and light stubble covering a strong jaw.

Jacob.

Emma gasped; she had NO memory of coming here with him. Lifting the duvet a little more she was rewarded with even more tanned flesh, naked flesh, they were both naked!

Emma had never had a one night stand, not like this with a complete stranger. It wasn’t her way. And despite spending SO much time together over the last thirty six hours, they were strangers. But it seemed that the wine, champagne and far too many random shots had all contributed to her amnesiac liaison.  She’d got on with Jacob, they had had SO much fun the previous evening, but she was flying home, she’d not see him again. Suddenly she needed to be out of there, away from the shame of him waking and her needing to discuss what she was mortified to admit she couldn’t remember.

Her dress and bra were near the bed, so she pulled them on, moving into the lounge - this suite was HUGE, she found the Louboutin shoes...still divine, and her bag. Rooting inside she found a hairbrush, and a hair tie, she was able to make herself a little more respectable. She was glad of the distraction to stop her thinking, dwelling and analysing all that she’d discovered in the last ten minutes.

Emma gave up on the search for her knickers, she was only hoping that they had made it to the bin, rather than being attached to a lampshade in one of the rooms, and made for the door. It was then that she realised that it was ten fifteen. The girls must be going crazy with worry. Opening the door, she searched for her purse, but instead found a piece of pristinely folded paper, with her name printed neatly on it. Stopping mid step, she opened it was a weird sense of foreboding.

Then the hangover came back with a vengeance as the words on the form in her hand all blended into one. Her head throbbed and she fought for air, desperately trying not to wake the man behind her. She looked down in dismay, she could ignore the words printed neatly on the form in her right hand, that was witnessed by Elvis, but her left hand bore the true souvenir of the last step of Jacob’s guided tour of Vegas, ‘The Little Chapel’. A gold ring.

She was married.

To Jacob!