Page 22 of Hollywood Undercover
Chapter 9
ALEXANDRA laboredup the front steps of her father’s house. Rosa followed behind. The two of them were loaded down with armfuls of shoppingbags.
“Do you really think you can pull off this reverse-drag, dress-like-a-guy thing for the entire time you’re here?” Rosa asked, passing her to unlock the front door. She didn’t seem entirelyconvinced.
“I’ll have to be careful, but I think I can do it. Think about it. No one knows who I am. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve walked a mall without being swarmed for autographs, pictures and God knowswhat?”
“It won’t be easy, Alexandra. The longer you keep it up, the more likely someone will figure itout.”
“True, but maybe by then, Daddy will be better, and it won’tmatter.”
“All right. I hope it works, honey, for your sake. Let’s get these bags rightupstairs.”
They climbed the two sets of stairs to get up to Alexandra’s oldroom.
“By the way,” Alexandra continued, “I have to say, I can really appreciate what actors must go through now. I never knew how hard it would be to constantly remind myself to walk, talk, and act like a twenty-one-year-old guy.” She grunted and kicked open the door to her room. “Ugh! This stuff is heavy. Dammit, see what I mean? Guys wouldn’t say that. Okay, just put everything down righthere.”
They dumped everything into a pile in the middle of the bed. Rosa stood back and chuckled as Alexandra went through everything. The shopping bags mostly contained her wardrobe for whatever duration of time she would remain in Tucson. With her petite build, her figure could fool the unsuspecting if she dressed in loose-fitting clothes. Rosa complained the whole ride home that she couldn’t figure out why Alexandra still needed to go incognito, now that she had made it safely toTucson.
“I just wonder if it’s necessary. In the few days since you’ve touched down, you’ve barely left the hospital, and you travel discreetly by private car or with me. Couldn’t you wear reasonably chic, fashionable women’s clothes? I’m sure you wouldn’t be recognized asLexxiRock.”
“Oh, you don’t know how persistent the paparazzi can be, Rosa. One time, I had a particularly dedicated creep follow me around for three weeks without me even knowing. It bordered on stalking. No, wait. It was definitely stalking, because Lilly found him swimming in my pool one morning while I was on tour. After the court put him on a restraining order, do you want to know how he kept it up? He wore a fat suit…that’s right, a fat suit. He dressed up as an old lady, hiding his camera in an oversize handbag! I never even would’ve found out, if he didn’t park his same beat-up old Lincoln on the hill outside my gate every day.” She rolled her eyes and grumbled, “Papsscum.”
Rosa smiled. “Well, that must have been an interestingexperience.”
“If that’s what you want to call it. I know it seems like I’m going to great lengths here, but I don’t want those piranhas swimming around right now. I have enough on my mind without having to worry about what they’re printing or that they’re swarming around the hospital, trying to get into Dad’s room for an interview, or just for a photo of me. And the problem is once one of them sinks in their teeth, the freak show turns into hundreds of them, all invading Tucson. They’ll be everywhere, including your place, Rosa.” Alexandra sat on the bed. “I think it’s best if Rick keeps the story going that I’m having a sunny, fun vacation out of thecountry.”
She upended a bag filled with men’s cologne, sticks of deodorant, and hair gel for her new shorter look. Uncapping one of the colognes, she took a whiff. She coughed at the strong scent and quickly held it at arm’s length. “God, that stinks…but I can’t keep showing up around the nurses and doctors smelling like roses and lilacs. Let me tell you, Rosa, this has to be as close to method acting as I’ll get. Maybe I should go into acting after this. I’m going to have to call Eva and let her know what I’m doing. She’ll be soproud.”
She snickered at the thought of what Eva would have to say about all of this. With that idea, she stopped what she was doing, grabbed her phone, and took a quick selfie for the next time they talked. Evangeline would appreciate the dramatic lengths she was going to, if no one elsedid.
“Okay. Have it your way. It does look like fun, I have to admit.” Rosa laughed and stood up. “I have a few things to take care of at the office for your father. By the way, Alexandra, I’d be happy to go over any of the legal paperwork with you when you’re ready. Your father has detailed instructions prepared…about his…his last wishes, as far as the business work is concerned. He set it all straight before his condition worsened. He wanted you to take a look at it at some point. There’s also a new acquisition deal he wanted you to look at. Everything’s in his office, if you get achance.”
Alexandra swallowed thickly. For a few minutes, she got to pretend like the situation wasn’t as dire as it was, but reality alwaysintruded.
She forced a weak smile, and murmured, “Thank you, Rosa. I’ll get around to it. In the meantime, I’ll get these things put away. I’m going to see Daddy again in a fewhours.”
She crinkled her nose at the pile on the bed. Rosa accepted the cue to leave and ducked out of the bedroom. Alexandra turned back to the shopping bags and shoeboxes with a frown. Spending the morning scouring racks at the mall for looks to fit the style of a twenty-something-year-old male without being too over the top was a worthwhile chore. Now she had a number of different jeans and slacks, t-shirts, button down shirts, sneakers, loafers, fitted caps, and hats. She especially liked the fedoras, which explained why she was staring down at six of them. She had even purchased men’s sunglasses, watches, and a wallet—anything that would help her transform herself. It would have been funny, if it weren’t for the reasons she was doing all of it—to protectDad.
She glanced in the mirror of her rustic blue dresser. It reflected someone almost unrecognizable. She had coaxed her unruly black hair to go every which way in the front, and a professional hairstylist at the mall cleaned it up with layers in the back. It molded to the roundness of her head. The person in the mirror wore a button-down shirt with grey slacks cut off at the shin, and black combat boots. The only concession to her true gender was she still sported black nail polish on trimmed nails. She kind of liked the look, and wondered idly if she could incorporate something similar into the photoshoot for her newalbum.
As she stared back at the heap of stuff on her bed, her forehead furrowed. She realized just how much work she had made for herself. It meant clearing out the old things in her closet—stuff that was left behind from her high school years. There would never be enough room for the new things otherwise. Her old bedroom and closet weren’t nearly as large as her room back home in Beverly Hills, not to mention that the place back home came with amaid.
Ugh. With me here, Dad’s going to need a maidsoon.
She was still grateful. The homesick feeling she had in Los Angeles was gone, and it felt good to be back in the cozy comfort of familiar territory. Her room hadn’t changed. The carpet was still a buff shade of off-white, the walls still painted buttercream. Her father hadn’t done a thing in her old bedroom. The stability was a good thing at a time likethis.
The dresser and bed were the same distressed cobalt blue color. The armchair and ottoman were also the same—a floral print her mother had fallen in love with. The effect was a country, shabby-chic theme, one hundred percent her mother’s doing. Beneath the stack of clothes, the king sized bed was covered with a handmade quilt in pastel hues. It was the last thing her mother had picked out for her shortly before she passedaway.
There were framed pieces of art Alexandra painted back when art dominated her long list of hobbies. She smiled at the sight of the novice brush strokes and amateurishdesign.
I thought I was the shit backthen.
Along with music, as a teenager she dabbled in creative writing, had a stint where she wanted to be a fashion model, and even thought she might’ve tried out becoming a dancer for a shortwhile.
In the end, music won out because it was the one thing she couldn’t go a day without. Her mother had once said Alexandra got her creative spark from her, and her brain for music theory from her father.A touch from each of us, she hadsaid.
Looking around, she saw the influences of both her parents in the room. There was a shelf full of the knickknacks her father would buy her on his various business trips around the world. The trunk at the foot of her bed was filled with items the three of them put together to remember various stages of her life. There was the first rifle she had ever shot on a hunting trip with Daddy; photographs of the first cake she had helped her mother create when Alexandra was five yearsold.
