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Remember My Name
Havana Adams
What price would you pay for fame?Scriptwriter Talia knows ambition: she sees it in the mirror every day. But working with the world’s biggest divas should come with a health-warning. And when she finds herself in actress Tamara’s bad books, her own claws don’t look so sharp anymore…Suddenly, Talia’s back to looking up at the stars – and even more determined to take her place among them. And when she lands a job with Alex Golden - legendary womanizer, LA bad-boy and Hollywood’s hottest property - it looks like she could be on her way up. So long as she steers clear of Alex’s scandalous propositions…But Talia hasn’t nearly seen the worst that ambition can do. Because the road to fame may glitter… but it’s no easy ride. And in a world where winner takes all, some people will stop at nothing to claim their prize.
What price would you pay for fame?
Scriptwriter Talia knows ambition: she sees it in the mirror every day. But working with the world’s biggest divas should come with a health-warning. And when she finds herself in actress Tamara’s bad books, her own claws don’t look so sharp anymore…
Suddenly, Talia’s back to looking up at the stars – and even more determined to take her place among them. And when she lands a job with Alex Golden - legendary womanizer, LA bad-boy and Hollywood’s hottest property - it looks like she could be on her way up. So long as she steers clear of Alex’s scandalous propositions…
But Talia hasn’t nearly seen the worst that ambition can do. Because the road to fame may glitter… but it’s no easy ride. And in a world where winner takes all, some people will stop at nothing to claim their prize.
Also by Havana Adams (#ulink_4cff28e9-440d-5190-9eaa-5b05d9878f8d)
Black Diamond
Remember My Name
Havana Adams
Copyright (#ulink_f3eaec6f-5b42-5c5d-b667-5e4b1453d373)
HQ
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd.
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2014
Copyright © Havana Adams 2014
Havana Adams asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
E-book Edition © June 2014 ISBN: 9781474009096
Version date: 2018-06-20
HAVANA ADAMS
is a London girl who left her heart in New York City and she spends a lot of time plotting trips back across the pond. Growing up she was most often found with her head in a book, glued to a television or sneaking off to the cinema. And today, not much has changed. When she’s not plotting novels, Havana works in the film and TV industry. Havana loves visiting new places and travelling the world as inspiration for her writing. She’s also a keen runner, baker and foodie.
I’d like to thank Rowan Lawton whose encouragement and feedback on the first few chapters spurred me on to finish the first draft.
A big thank you to the NANOWRIMO community, who every year give me the kick I need to sit down and get writing.
I’d also like to thank my friends, many of whom were the first readers of my manuscript, for their continued support, pep talks and general awesomeness. Thanks to Destiny, Bryony, Monique, Karen, Vicky.
Most importantly, big thanks to my family for putting up with me and for being hugely supportive of my efforts, listening to a lot of writing and ideas talk and always being there at GDIAK moments.
To my friends and family for believing in me and for all their support.
Contents
Cover (#ud0e5b3f8-c4d6-5f3b-8a7b-5bc7c81a870f)
Blurb (#ub1899314-598a-5b56-8744-ab87f467cef3)
Book List (#u6a2c1225-cd70-5a6b-a397-bb471ef275e2)
Title Page (#uf1098fd2-7aec-513c-b430-a21b4f6ee474)
Copyright (#u7f6e859c-dd6e-5186-a661-e5899ee111ca)
Author Bio (#u0ea42310-6f0f-523a-836b-5d70a717f67a)
Acknowledgements (#u8271aa55-00c9-5175-bdf3-1a1ce744701c)
Dedication (#u3e173c22-7d86-5259-ba46-1a9c1a92e248)
Prologue (#ua7b55a5c-0ecc-5e21-8e9f-310dc7c0f508)
Chapter 1 (#ub49306a1-d67c-5dad-833e-cf101e1c93dc)
Chapter 2 (#ue35cfa0f-34b7-5e28-a017-fc9d8684f62c)
Chapter 3 (#uc1dadb04-714a-5a58-bead-d06031ee4c9c)
Chapter 4 (#uc67e8bbb-0407-534a-848b-1136d95fa2f4)
Chapter 5 (#u2d0cc659-80d9-5382-91f4-7c7814203f7e)
Chapter 6 (#ufcfe3f59-19c8-5ec2-86d9-6ca8110f8828)
Chapter 7 (#ua1a0ace9-96a9-5b64-a214-a4e7f3d72d63)
Chapter 8 (#ubd0235c6-3cbc-560f-905d-51ccc13fdf54)
Chapter 9 (#ud99c4238-6488-5cd3-b94c-8b3ea43234ef)
Chapter 10 (#u8d52b62f-3db5-50d2-93ee-b22a62755f21)
Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 15 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 16 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 17 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 18 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 19 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 20 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 21 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 22 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 23 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 24 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 25 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 26 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 27 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 28 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 29 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 30 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 31 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 32 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 33 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 34 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 35 (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Endpages (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
PROLOGUE (#ulink_b134c1ea-e502-55f5-bd87-67676598f090)
On the night, aged 26, that he was catapulted from obscurity, from jobbing theatre actor and TV bit-part player to Oscar winner, Alex Golden looked out at the great and good of Hollywood. He stared beyond the flashing lights and cameras at the legends of the silver screen, he imagined the millions, perhaps billions watching the telecast of the ceremony, and the words of his grandfather came to mind.
“Son,” he’d once counselled Alex, “the thing about peaking too soon, is the certain knowledge that the only place to go is down.”
Alex shrugged off the pessimistic thought and loped towards the podium in a long, easy stride, oozing the confidence and charisma that would go on to make him a household name.
“Thank you,” he said in that husky voice that would make him the favourite of women, gays and schoolgirls the world over.
Later, it wouldn’t be the words that he’d uttered on that stage that ensured that everybody remembered his name, instead it would be those piercing blue eyes, framed by thick, dark lashes, the English accent that added gravitas, the easy smile that showed that he didn’t take himself too seriously. In short, Alex Golden’s acceptance speech – witty, assured, relaxed – announced him as Hollywood’s newest star.
“We are back live in fifteen seconds. Camera One – ready. Presenters – Best Adapted Screenplay to the stage. Live in ten, nine, eight…” As the award show’s director barked out instructions, Alex walked backstage in a daze as a whirlwind of activity spun around him. Immediately, he spotted a woman in a striking crimson dress watching him from across the chaos of the green room. His palm was warm against the surprisingly heavy gold statuette and though outwardly composed, inside he was in a state of shock, drinking in the sight of Streep and Nicholson as they swept by him onto the stage to present the next award. Alex’s eyes were once again drawn to the woman who was watching him. In the sea of famous faces and celebrities, producers, PRs and hangers-on, somehow this woman, in her red dress, held his attention.
She pushed forward, coming to stand in front of him, her right hand already held out. Close up, Alex saw that she was older than he’d initially thought. Yet for a woman who must be in her forties, the body was still killer. His eyes ate her up, skimming from the large breasts, which oozed over the top of the corseted red dress, to the slim waist and then the flare of generous hips. His gaze moved back up to her eyes and with a start Alex saw that the woman’s eyes were narrowed, with a hint of knowing amusement. This wasn’t the usual response that he got from women. He switched the gold statuette to his left hand and gave her a firm handshake. He was sure that he didn’t know this woman, but in the three weeks of meetings, junkets and publicity since he had landed in LA, he’d learned that people did this here, that sometimes for no reason at all, they’d stop to talk to you, that somehow everybody, just everybody, was in the business and wanted to know about his “little English movie”.
Before he could say anything, the woman spoke, her hand still grasping his in a surprisingly firm grip. Her words were brisk and precise, almost like orders being barked out, in the kind of no-nonsense New York drawl that brooked no disagreement.
“My name is Avital Silver. And I’m going to make you a superstar.”
CHAPTER 1 (#ulink_f486b3ea-1630-5eeb-a5ae-9e388a86eff7)
TEN YEARS LATER
The shot was worth a million bucks.
Any paparazzo worth his salt would kill to capture the image of movie star Alex Golden, Hollywood’s legendary Modeliser, sprawled almost naked but for a pair of Gucci board shorts that hung low down on his hips, revealing a perfectly smooth chest and tanned, ripped, Hollywood-perfected abs. Next to him lay a woman whose triple threat of lips, breasts and legs had made grown men weep, and more besides. Alex reclined on a sun bed as he stared out on the startling azure-blue sea at the exclusive resort on the Mexican coastline. In the distance came whoops and squeals of a group of people on powerful jet skis as they skimmed across the horizon, shooting plumes of water in the air behind them. Just watching them made Alex feel tired and he pushed his sunglasses down on his face.
“Christ my head is pounding.” He muttered the words with a small groan but was met with silence. He turned with a lazy glance, reaching out to touch the woman next to him. His hand skimmed her flat abdomen, before falling away. They hadn’t stayed long at the film premiere after-party the night before; just long enough for Alex to be photographed next to his ambitious young co-star, model turned actress Tyler Link, and of course long enough for him to be nursing a hangover as a result of too much vintage Perrier-Jouët champagne, which had been free-flowing at the VIP bash For a moment Alex was filled with a beat of nostalgia; you’re getting old, a voice in his head taunted him. Shaking the thought away, Alex rose to his feet, turning to stand over the sun lounger next to his.
“You’re blocking my sunlight.” Isabella finally spoke, pouting sulkily and yet so prettily as the words whispered out of her pink and improbably plump lips. Alex watched her for a moment. Most of her face was obscured by the large brim of a white Dior sunhat but what was visible of her was still incredible. Still recognisable as the face and body of Isabella Murada, one of the world’s highest paid supermodels. She and Alex shared a publicist, who had introduced them at some charity benefit in Los Angeles. Alex had only just ended another headline-grabbing fling with a swimwear model and the timing had been good. That same night he’d taken Isabella back to his suite at Chateau Marmont and they’d been together the last five months which, by his usual standards, was practically an eternity. He continued to stare down at Isabella knowing that she would soon snap. A devoted sun worshipper, Isabella hated the possibility of tanning unevenly. He stared at her lips, which were thrust forward sulkily and his eyes drifted lower to the unselfconscious way that she tanned topless. He leaned down to stroke a finger across her nipple.
“Come into the water,” he asked softly. Her breasts were large, gorgeous and fake, of course, but still with enough softness and movement in them to fool the untutored observer. He, however, was an expert. How could he not be, after ten years of fucking models and starlets?
It had started quite by accident this reputation of his, but slowly it had transformed into an unshakeable part of his reputation. Sure, there was the occasional actress thrown into the mix, the odd solo singer and famously, once, a pair of burlesque performing twins, but for the most part Alex Golden lived up to his reputation as The Modeliser.
He pressed a kiss to Isabella’s breasts and then stretched to his full 6feet 4 inches. “Come into the water,” he asked again.
“No,” Isabella snapped back.
Mostly Alex liked the rough Portuguese twang in her Brazilian-accented English, but some days like today, the harsh sounds grated. “You’re not still angry?” He gritted his teeth. Isabella could carry a grudge and her silent treatments had been known to last for days. With a sigh he banked down his building irritation with her. “Isabella,” he cajoled softly.
