‘You were in the movie just as much as me,’ Ivy said. They had been extras in one of the diner scenes – along with the unbearable Charlotte Brown.
‘Yeah, but I’m not the sister of the newest up-and-coming star,’ Sophia said, winking at Olivia, but she wasn’t paying attention.
‘Sophia, have you seen Jackson? Is he here, too?’ Olivia was wringing her hands.
Sophia nodded. ‘I think he was by the vegetables when I walked past a few minutes ago,’ she said.
Ivy hoped Jessica’s little food mission hadn’t messed up Jackson’s plans for the red carpet. She thought it was high time that her sister could stop hiding in the shadows.
‘Thanks.’ Olivia turned to Mr Vega. ‘Can I go find him?’
‘Sure, honey,’ he replied. ‘Just find me before you head out of here.’
The crowd was starting to thin a little, as Olivia slipped away. Near the butcher’s counter, Ivy saw a short man with his back to her, waving his arms angrily in front of an assistant wearing headphones.
‘. . . think she can do this! Non, non!’ he was saying in a heavy French accent.
Ivy guessed right away who it was: Philippe, the director of the movie. She knew from her time as an extra that no one did grumpy like he did, and he must be livid about Jessica’s little detour.
‘Think I should try for a picture?’ Sophia said.
‘If you want to get your hand bitten off,’ Ivy replied. ‘He looks worse than usual.’
‘Ivy! Sophia!’ A trim woman in a tailored black pantsuit waved at them from in front of the fish display.
‘It’s Lillian,’ Sophia said, waving back.
‘Come on.’ Ivy grabbed her dad’s hand and pulled him over. ‘Dad, this is Lillian Margolis. She was the assistant director on The Groves.’
‘Second assistant director, actually,’ Lillian said, extending her slender hand. She was wearing a simple but elegant silver bracelet. Her usually messy black hair had been tamed into a classy bun, held back by a pretty onyx hair clip. She looked like Audrey Heppingburn in the classic vampire flick Breakfast of Tiffanies.
‘How do you do?’ Mr Vega asked, with a little bow. Two pink spots appeared on his usually pale cheeks as he took Lillian’s hand in his. ‘A pleasure to meet you,’ he murmured. ‘Please call me Charles.’
‘Charles,’ she said gracefully, smiling a little. ‘Lovely to meet you, too.’
She gave Ivy and Sophia each a hug then turned back to Mr Vega. ‘You have two very talented daughters, Charles. I hope Olivia enjoys the final product tonight.’
‘Oh, I’m sure we all will,’ Mr Vega replied, smiling. ‘Uh . . . How long have you been in the movie business?’
‘That’s dangerously close to asking a lady her age.’ Lillian waggled her finger at him, pretending to tell him off.
‘No, no,’ Mr Vega looked sheepish. ‘I meant –’
Lillian cut him off cheerfully. ‘Let’s say that I’ve worked on fifteen films and counting. And what do you do?’
‘He’s an interior designer,’ Ivy boasted. ‘If you like things dark and velvet, he’s your guy.’
‘Really?’ Lillian raised her eyebrows. ‘My home in LA actually needs refurbishing.’
‘Ooh, LA!’ cooed Sophia.
‘I love LA,’ Mr Vega said brightly, taking Ivy by surprise. He had only been there once, and with all the sunshine, it wasn’t exactly a vamp-friendly place.
Lillian smiled at Mr Vega’s eagerness, while Ivy had to double check that her father hadn’t been taken over by aliens: pale skin, not green . . . check. Two eyes not five . . . check. Still a vampire, not an alien. But her dad was acting excited. Well, as excited as her super-composed father ever got.
‘Maybe you could all come and visit my home in Hollywood and we could talk about some ideas?’ Lillian asked.
Mr Vega bowed slightly. ‘I would be happy to, as long as you think my taste will complement yours.’
‘Well –’ Lillian leaned in closer, like she was about to share a secret. ‘Like you, I have special . . . culinary requirements of the red-meat variety.’
‘You mean, you’re . . .’ Ivy trailed off, not wanting to say anything that might break the First Law of the Night. No humans could ever find out about vampires’ existence and, since it was so hard to tell who was and who wasn’t, it was always tricky when you met someone you didn’t know but suspected might be.
‘I’m rather partial to Marshmallow Platelets,’ Lillian said with a grin.
Ivy grinned back. Cool, she thought.
‘I think there are some drinks on a table over by the refrigerated aisles,’ Mr Vega said, suddenly as enthusiastic as he had been when he was pretending to enjoy visiting Mister Smoothie a few weeks ago – but this time it felt genuine. ‘Can I get you a drink, Lillian?’
‘I’ll come with you,’ she replied and the two of them walked off, chatting about arrangements for a spontaneous trip.
‘Oh my darkness,’ said Sophia. ‘We’re going to Hollywood!’
Ivy grinned. She couldn’t wait. ‘This totally sucks.’
Chapter Two
The FoodMart was much emptier now.
Burly Man from before bustled past. ‘I’m chasing the rabbit down the hole,’ he said into his phone.
‘That is the lamest code-speak ever,’ Ivy said. But at least Jessica’s entourage had followed her downstairs so there was a little breathing room.
‘Let’s find Olivia, so we can tell her about going to Hollywood,’ Ivy said, leading Sophia through the refrigerated section.
‘Hey,’ said an unshaven older guy wearing a Harker Films T-shirt, looking straight at Ivy. He flashed a big grin as he walked past. ‘You were pretty good.’
Ivy stopped short. ‘Who was that?’ she asked Sophia. ‘And what did he mean?’
Sophia looked amused. ‘I don’t know, but I bet Brendan won’t like guys like him smiling at you like that.’
Then an older lady with greying hair, holding a clipboard, gave her a smile. ‘Sweetie, you were great! Congratulations.’
Ivy was completely baffled. She couldn’t let this go, so she turned and hurried after Clipboard Woman. ‘I’m sorry, but what do you mean?’