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Beautiful Secret (Dirty Hollywood Book 1)
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Beautiful Secret
Dirty Hollywood: Book One
Claire Raye
Copyright © 2019 by Claire Raye
All rights reserved. This book may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage the piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. All characters and storylines are the property of the author and your support and respect is appreciated. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarities to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Editing by Kelly Brennan
Cover Design by Amy Queau of QDesign
Other books by Claire Raye
Coming Home to You- A Rockport Beach Novel: Book One
Finding Home with You- A Rockport Beach Novel: Book Two
Making Home with You- A Rockport Beach Novel: Book Three
Always Yours- A Love and Wine Novella
Finally Yours- A Love and Wine Novel: Book One
Prologue: Three months ago
Aiden
Chapter One: Three months later
Julia
Chapter Two
Aiden
Chapter Three
Julia
Chapter Four
Aiden
Chapter Five
Julia
Chapter Six
Aiden
Chapter Seven
Julia
Chapter Eight
Aiden
Chapter Nine
Julia
Chapter Ten
Aiden
Chapter Eleven
Julia
Chapter Twelve
Aiden
Chapter Thirteen
Julia
Chapter Fourteen
Aiden
Chapter Fifteen
Julia
Chapter Sixteen
Aiden
Chapter Seventeen
Julia
Chapter Eighteen
Aiden
Chapter Nineteen
Julia
Chapter Twenty
Aiden
Chapter Twenty-One
Julia
Chapter Twenty-Two
Aiden
Chapter Twenty-Three
Julia
Chapter Twenty-Four
Aiden
Chapter Twenty-Five
Julia
Chapter Twenty-Six
Aiden
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Julia
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Aiden
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Julia
Chapter Thirty
Aiden
Chapter Thirty-One
Julia
Chapter Thirty-Two
Aiden
Chapter Thirty-Three
Julia
Chapter Thirty-Four
Aiden
Chapter Thirty-Five
Julia
Chapter Thirty-Six
Aiden
Prologue
Ava
Acknowledgments
Prologue
Three months ago
Aiden
“Julia Harris.”
“What?” I ask, looking up as my assistant, Luke walks into my office. It’s laughable I even have an assistant to be honest, considering how far down the food chain I am. It’s laughable I have an office either.
“Julia Harris,” Luke repeats, smiling at me.
“What about her?”
“She’s signed on, jesus, Aiden, keep up.”
I roll my eyes before turning them back to the production notes I’m supposed to review before filming starts in three months. “So?” I say, not taking my eyes off the page.
Luke exhales, flopping onto the couch that clutters my office in the basement of the film studio. “So, she’s fucking gorgeous,” he says, as though that explains everything. “And rumor has it she’s broken up with her latest fling.”
I flip the page, underlining a note about the catering I need to follow up on. “Again, so?” I add, pen between my teeth as I continue to read over the notes.
“So,” he says, exaggerating the word. “It means she’s available and like I said, fucking gorgeous.”
I lower my file, giving Luke my full attention now, which essentially translates to a what-the-hell-are-you-talking-about look. “And what, she’s going to be interested in a lowly second production assistant like me now, is she?”
Luke shrugs. “Maybe?” he says, a sly smile on his face. “Or maybe she’ll be interested in the lowly second production assistant’s runner.”
I roll my eyes, a sarcastic laugh falling from my mouth. “Right, in some kind of weird parallel universe where people like us are even on the radar of people like her.”
Now it’s Luke rolling his eyes at me. “Always with the sci-fi reference,” he says, half teasing me. “No wonder women think you’re a total nerd.”
I stand, ignoring his comment and walking over to my desk where I throw the notes onto the pile of other notes I need to work through before filming starts. This is going to be a long few weeks. I have so much to do and all of that is only going to get a million times harder now that our superstar has finally signed on. I’m dreading the day her rider arrives outlining all of her demands for her time on set.
The only good thing about this particular job is we start filming in London, meaning I get a free trip back home for a couple of months. Not that I’m gonna have much time off, but whatever.
“Wanna grab a drink?” I say, figuring all of this shit can wait as I decide to call it a day.
Luke’s eyes light up. “Hell yes!” he immediately replies, standing. “Let’s hit up the Moonshine. Word is, it’s the latest place the celebs are hanging out at when they’re in town.”
“You’re hopeless, you know that right?” I say as I grab my jacket.
Luke just grins at me. “No, you just don’t take advantage of what this job offers you,” he says, slapping me on the back as we walk out of my office. “I mean lighten up, Aiden,” he adds. “Enjoy the perks for once in your life.”
The bar is pumping by the time we get there, the light rain doing nothing to deter the hordes of L.A. wannabes from getting smashed and hoping for their fifteen minutes of fame. It shits me, hanging out in places like this, all of it a far cry from the pubs I’m used to going to back home.
But at the same time, I get it. This is the scene here and if you’re serious about movies, either making them or starring in them, then these are the places you need to be seen in.
“Get us some drinks,” Luke yells as he gestures toward a table. “I’ll get us a spot.”
I nod and make my way over to the bar, the thumping music echoing off the walls, despite the crowd.
“Two beers, thanks,” I tell the bartender, pointing to the first tap I see. He nods, not interested in making conversation with me.
I pull some money from my pocket, knowing this is likely going to cost me a fortune because of where we are. The guy returns with our drinks, taking my cash without so much as a word before he walks off and finds someone younger and with a bigger chest than me to serve.
I make my way back to the table, groaning a little when I see Luke courting a bunch of girls who now surround him.
“Hey, Aiden,” he says, waving at me. “Let me introduce you,” he adds, ignoring the beer I hold out to him.
I roll my eyes, putting it on the table as he tells me the names of the three girls, none of which I catch. I nod to each of them, grateful when they all
focus their attention back on Luke.
Leaning against the table, I take a long sip of beer as my eyes wander over the room, searching for anyone who might actually be worth talking to.
“You looking for someone?” a voice says, lips brushing against my ear.
I turn, find myself face to face with a woman who’s vaguely familiar. “Nope,” I say, shaking my head as I take another sip.
She smiles up at me. “Your accent,” she says. “British?”
“English,” I say.
“There’s a difference?” she asks, looking genuinely interested.
I nod. “There is.”
“Huh,” she replies, eyebrow arched. “You’ll have to explain it to me,” she adds.
I stare down at her, wondering whether she truly cares or she’s just hedging her bets, hoping I’m someone famous or connected who’s worth her time. It’s how it always feels, living in this city, as though you’re nobody unless you’re famous, and you’re most definitely not worth knowing if you aren’t.
“I’m Lila by the way,” she says, hand out toward me.
“Aiden,” I reply, my hand sliding into hers. “What is it you do, Lila?” I ask, taking a risk, because I know she’ll be mortally offended if she’s someone I should already know.
She smiles now. “I’m an actress,” she replies.
Of course you are, I can’t help but think, even as the voice inside my head says RUN!
“And what do you do, Aiden?” she asks, sidling a little closer.
“Production assistant,” I reply, taking another sip of beer.
“Oh,” she says, eyes widening. “Are you working on anything I’d know?”
I exhale, glancing over at Luke who is fully engrossed in conversation with the other two and barely aware I’m even here. It’s the same old story, the two of us go out, he hooks up with whatever semi-famous girl he can, leaving me to her friend. I usually wind up going home alone, unable to go through the effort it takes just to talk to these women who are clearly only using me for my connections to the movie industry.
“Yeah, maybe,” I say, turning back to Lila. “I’m about to start on that new movie, Darkness Falling,” I say. “With Julia Harris?”
“Oh my god,” she squeals, her voice reaching decibels only dogs can hear. “I love her! She’s exactly the kind of actress I want to be,” she adds, grabbing my arm. “Tell me all about her!”
Fuck, I can’t help but think. Is getting laid really worth all of this bullshit?
Chapter One
Three months later
Julia
“Julia!”
A hand cracks my ass and I shoot straight up to find my assistant staring at me with a glare that could kill a mountain lion.
“You should have been up hours ago!” she cries, her voice shrill and ear piercing, and after last night, my head is already pounding.
“So many wines,” I mutter. My eyes are having trouble adjusting to the ridiculously bright light that is now blazing into the room. My amazingly beautiful room darkening curtains have now been expertly flung open by Ava, disrupter of sleep and bringer of headaches.
Well, I guess the headache is my own fault, but she’s here and she’s loud, and I’m really crabby.
“Your flight leaves in two hours and your driver has been sitting downstairs waiting for you for the last hour.”
God, she’s relentless.
I roll over, crushing a pillow over my head as I listen to her rustling around my bedroom, then her designer stilettos are clomping like an angry Clydesdale on the tile floor in my ensuite bathroom. She’s yanking clothes from my closet with expert precision and within the next five minutes she’ll have me up and dressed. I know there’s no sense in fighting her, but I do it anyway.
“You won’t have time to shower,” she calls, her voice bouncing around in the echoic bathroom. “And no offense, but you smell like a hobo so at least try to freshen yourself up a bit.”
Freshen myself up? Who even says shit like this? My assistant, that’s who, and while I really do adore her, there are times that I want to tell her to get her own life.
I never would have hired an assistant. I know my life is a hot mess, but I like it that way. Sometimes I drink too much, my hair is generally caked with dry shampoo, and if you believe everything you read in the tabloids, I get around.
But right now, I’m Hollywood’s golden girl, fresh off an Oscar win that should’ve never happened. The real actress had a scheduling conflict and I was thrust into the role as choice B. I could have even been choice D; I don’t know. But I do know fame is fleeting. In a year I could be a nobody, hell in a week I could be. So why bother changing who I really am because I could be back there before I know it?
I’m dressed and out the door in less than ten minutes with Ava next to me huffing and puffing as she scrolls through her phone. She’s about to mutter that we’re late and then proceed to make a few calls asking someone to hold a plane for me.
It’s embarrassing, honestly. Let the damn plane leave without me. That’s what would happen if I weren’t Julia Harris, and sometimes I miss my quiet life where no one cared about me. The one where I could talk movie roles and dream of finding something that fit.
I went into this whole thing to make an impact, to be taken seriously, but slowly I’m finding myself being typecast into a role, a role very similar to the one I just signed on to do.
My agent keeps telling me it’s the role I was born to play: an unstable wife, a socialite or a wealthy heiress with a fucked up past and a fragile mental state. You play enough crazy people and people start to label you difficult to work with, demanding, and dare I say it, crazy too.
I am none of these things, but I’m about to play that role once again. Don’t get me wrong, I’m eternally gratefully for everything I have been given, but I just want the opportunity to showcase that I can be more than this.
The media sees me as the girl who drinks too much, avoids fans and is awkward in interviews. If I wasn’t currently sitting pretty on the top of Hollywood’s ever-so-fickle throne; no would give me the time of day.
I drink because crowds make me nervous, I avoid fans because I don’t know what to say, and I am absolutely awkward in interviews because I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to talking about myself. I’d rather talk about the writers, the directors, the production crew because I love the idea of bringing their vision to life, hearing their inspiration. I’m only here because of them.
The driver merges onto the freeway, his car barreling down the road toward LAX at what feels like breakneck speed and I give my seatbelt a little tug. But as I do Ava lets out a small and obviously annoyed chuckle.
“He wouldn’t have to drive like this if someone had been on time,” she scoffs and it’s hard to hold in the smile that tugs at my lips. She’s chronically fifteen minutes early to everything and being on time is to be late.
“I wouldn’t have been late if someone wouldn’t have scheduled an event for the night before,” I shoot back, still feeling the wrath of the red wine as I swallow back a bit of nausea.
“I scheduled the event because it’s part of someone’s career.”
“You’re lovely, you know that, right?” I say, giving her a smile to let her know I am grateful for the constant nagging.
The plane lands in London and if I thought I felt like shit when I woke up this morning, I was mistaken. I’m exhausted, barely sleeping more than two hours and I’ve now lost an entire day to the time change.
Of course Ava looks like she just stepped out of the pages of a fashion magazine and my only hope is that by walking next to her people will ignore me. I smell of recycled air and airplane bathroom hand soap, and I’m in desperate need of a shower.
This girl has hauled through LAX, JFK and now Heathrow in stilettos without missing a beat. And here I am still nursing a hangover and shuffling next to her with my matted plane hair.
“You have to be in hair and makeup in three hours
because you have a photoshoot for Darkness Falling,” she says as she scrolls through her phone. “Promo and test shots,” she adds, and then continues. “After that you have a dinner with the director and then it’s on to a table read of the script with the cast.”
“Okay,” I reply feeling suddenly overwhelmed despite being ready for the role. “Can I at least take a shower?”
“Take a shower,” Ava mumbles, as her fingers move furiously over the keys on her phone. “Yep, it’s on the calendar for 10:30 now.”
“What time is it?” I ask, digging through my purse for my phone, but Ava responds before I can locate it.
“Quarter after eight, but it’ll take a bit to get to your apartment.”
“Apartment?” I question, even though I know she sent me the information on where I’ll be staying months ago.
“Yes, Julia, a house. The production company thought it would be a better fit since it looks like you’ll be here for at least three months. I had some of your clothes and things shipped over a few weeks ago so everything should be there and ready.”
“Thank you,” I say, again grateful for her organization. “Did you decide if you’re staying the whole time?”
As of last week, Ava wasn’t certain she wanted to stay and I get it. She has a boyfriend and the strain of being gone for three months can really take its toll.
“Yes, I’ll be here,” she says, but there’s a resignation in her tone.
“Everything okay?” I ask, truly interested.
“Tom and I broke up. For good this time. He was the only reason I considered going back home, so no point now.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, running a hand down her arm. “He didn’t deserve you anyway. You’re amazing.”
“Thanks,” she mutters, her head hanging a little as we approach the baggage carousel. Ava indicates that she can grab my bag for me and I flit my hand in her direction letting her know that’s completely ridiculous.
“I’m good. I’ll grab my bag and then we can head through customs.”
“I’m happy to get your bag, Julia,” she replies, but I shake my head even though Ava is giving me an eye that says everyone around us is staring.