Free Dazzled by Jane Harvey-Berrick Page B

apartment came with a housekeeper who did all the laundry. It was going to be hard going back to the squalor of my flat in Euston with Jim the Unwashed when this ended. I didn’t even have to do grocery shopping here – everything was taken care of. I knew there was a price, but right there and then, I didn’t care.
    I heard the toilet flush and a grumpy-looking Clare shuffled back out into the main room, her hair a lopsided bird’s nest.
    “God, I’m starving. I don’t know if I want breakfast or chocolate – my body clock is all over the place.”
    “It’ll wear off in a few days,” I offered.
    “Huh, listen to you. Suddenly you’re Mr. Jet Set.”
    I frowned, annoyed. What was eating her?
    My phone rang, saving me from saying something I might later regret when used in evidence against me. There was nothing wrong with Clare’s memory – only her temper.
    The caller ID showed Rhonda’s name.
    “Hey, Miles! How’s the diet going?”
    God! Was everyone on my case about this?
    “’S’okay. What’s up, Rhonda?”
    “I’ve organized a driving lesson for you at 1 PM and then at 2 PM you’ve got media training with Gayl Lemon.”
    “Media what?”
    “Miles, you’ve gotta know how to talk to the Press, how to do interviews. I mean, face it, right now you only open your mouth to change feet. You make the studio guys nervous. Gayl will help you with all the usual stuff.”
    “Such as?”
    “You’ll see. And after you’ll be seeing Natalia Da Silva.”
    “Who?”
    “Keep up, Miles – your stylist.”
    “Er, but I already got a suit and…”
    “Jeez! Your whole wardrobe looks like it came from a disaster movie! You need to look good every time you leave your goddamn front door. I’ve explained this to you.”
    “Er…”
    “The driving instructor will drop you at Gayl’s offices and then I’ll send the car to take you on to Da Silva. Capiche?”
    It was easier to agree.
    “Yeah, sure, Rhonda.”
    “Ciao.”
    And she was gone.
    I stared sourly at the phone.
    “What was all that about?”
    I sighed. “We won’t be able to go to the beach this afternoon. I’ve got a driving lesson and media training. Apparently the studio bosses don’t think I’m competent to speak for myself.”
    Clare looked at me evenly. “They’ve got a point, Miles. It’s not really your thing, is it, talking off the cuff? You know what Americans are like – they’re so literal and you’re so weird… I mean, it could be useful. You should be more open-minded.”
    “Bloody hell. If I was any more open-minded my brains would fall out,” I muttered, so she couldn’t quite hear.
    Her words had cut me, but I knew she was right. I thought back to the woman on the plane – I’d managed to offend her in one short sentence.
    I really couldn’t wait for the production to get under way then all this shit would end. I just wanted to work .
    “So,” said Clare, “can I come with you? I don’t want to hang around here by myself. And if I’m going to be your assistant,” she laughed, “I need to know this stuff.”
    “Fine. Fine. Come. Why not,” I snapped, annoyed that it was just a good laugh to her.
    She looked surprised. “What’s your problem?”
    I ran my hands through my hair in frustration. “It’s just…”
    “What? Tell me?”
    “They hired me to do a job and they want to… change everything about me. They’re even sending me to a bloody stylist to tell me what clothes to wear. I feel like I’ll forget who I am.”
    “Oh, please! As if.”
    She didn’t understand. She couldn’t see how hard it was when pieces of me were being chipped away: the way I spoke, the way I smiled, my hair color, the shape of my body – all changed, or being changed. I felt like I was being swallowed up by the studio machine. It made me anxious. But Clare thought I was being a diva – I could see it written all over her face. I was beginning to regret asking her to come out here.
    In silence, I fried a couple