Page 3 of My Lucky Star
Chapter 2
Cem
IWAS USED TO SEEINGmy name on various boards, magazine covers, and of course, in massive letters on the big screen. I’d never seen it scribbled with a magic marker on a handmade cardboard sign, misspelled so grossly I dismissed it until we were the only people left in the small airport lounge. A shock of blond hair hung on his forehead and an oversized T-shirt on his slight frame.
Sam Larkham, the sign said.
“Cem Erkam,” I said, pointing at the cardboard.
A relieved smile lit up the man’s face.
I shook my head in disbelief and followed him out the double doors, into a small, mostly empty car park. No people? This place was already making me nervous. Not that I intended to stay long, if I could help it.
I’d suffered the eternal series of flights in relative silence, alone in my corner of first class. My brother Emir had abandoned me moments before my departure but assured me he’d join me later. When, he hadn’t said.
They’d sure been in a hurry to get rid of me, sending me as far away as humanly possible. Emir insisted he’d chosen the location carefully, but I was fairly sure he’d called our cousins who lived in New Zealand and outsourced the entire job to them. I could imagine the assignment: Find an obscure small town where nobody will know a Turkish celebrity. Their answer: Napier.
I got into the silver Toyota Prius, which at least had working air-con, and tried to revive my phone. The driver chatted about something in a weird nasal accent I couldn’t make much sense of.
In my twenties, I’d spent a couple of years in Los Angeles and was fluent in English, or so I thought. Based on this first encounter, New Zealand didn’t speak the same English as the rest of the world.
My phone still searched for a network as we took a narrow, two-lane road through an endless display of rolling hills. I closed my eyes against the green brightness invading my vision. It seemed I’d landed on a completely uninhabited island, apart from sheep, but I knew better. I’d been promised a hotel to myself, with room service.
I know most people don’t get a hotel to themselves. Back in Turkey, I didn’t either, but I was here to hide, and they’d gotten a good deal, apparently.
I peeled off my designer jacket and folded it haphazardly over my satchel bag, which held the basics – toiletries and a change of underwear. I didn’t enjoy dragging bags on airplanes. That’s what the cargo hold was for.
I couldn’t wait to get changed into something more comfortable. A couple of fashion houses had a vested interest in me, so I never ran out of designer gear. Thankfully, one of them also made fitness clothes. For the next couple of weeks, I would lounge in my gym clothes and train. Hopefully by then everyone would have forgotten about my blunder, and I’d be ready for the lead role in Ottoman Games, a new series by Epic Studios with all-star cast and international distribution.
To get ready, I needed to get back to my exercise regime. I’d been between jobs and cutting myself a bit of slack lately. Emir had given me a serious speech outside the airport about getting my act together. If I lost this next role, my career might never recover. Yada, yada. Something about being selfish and lazy and only thinking of myself. The economy was crashing and the whole family depended on my income. I felt a weight sitting on my chest just thinking about it.
I’d made a weak argument about wanting to stretch myself artistically. That maybe I didn’t want to play another syrupy romantic lead. Maybe I was tired of gazing deep into the eyes of some pretty girl, thinking of kissing them, but nine times out of ten not actually kissing to appease the conservative viewer base. Each time, I perpetuated a myth, branding myself as the romantic hero I knew I wasn’t.
But Emir was right about one thing, Ottoman Games was my only shot at real money.
I settled into the seat, watching the foreign, yet somehow familiar, sight of those green hills, a bit like driving to the mountains in my home country.
I tried to breathe against the tightness in my chest. I only had to make it through a couple of weeks, three at most. I’d secure that role and I’d nail it. Maybe then I’d be free.
