Page 5 of Sandbar Summer (Summer Cottage #3)
Chapter Four
Libby
Libby marveled at how ageless Goldie was. They were all around fifty, the Sandbar Sisters, but Goldie, she was timeless. And tiny, Goldie was always petite, but she looked more birdlike now, like her skin barely held her bones together. And even that was tenuous.
She portrayed a tough exterior, but Libby knew the girl. She knew the bright penny that was Liz Gould, now Goldie Hayes.
Despite that, Goldie talked tough and fast. Libby couldn’t even imagine how savvy her old friend had to be to rise to the top like she had.
Goldie’s driver, Hollis, got them to the Anaheim Convention Center.
It looked like a spaceship, landed in the middle of a row of hotels, Libby thought.
Hollis left to park the vehicle. Tally, carrying whatever gear Goldie required, led the way as they went up a back elevator to an attached suite above the massive convention center.
Libby watched as people scurried around, focused on making sure Goldie had what she needed.
There was an entire category of employment in L.A.
that made a living scurrying around movie stars.
And it appeared Goldie had some of the best of them.
By the time hair and makeup finished with Goldie, she looked radiant.
The movie star was there, in front of Libby, where the old friend had been.
“Wow, you do not age.”
“Ha, yeah, right, this is a careful combination of science, engineering, and alchemy,” Goldie said as she circled her face with her hand.
The event staff knocked on the door.
“The booth is ready for you, Ms. Hayes.”
“Hmm, can you wait a moment? My security team isn’t here yet.”
“Well, we have event security, and the time slots are super tight.”
“Okay, okay. Tally, can you be sure to text Hollis?”
“Yes, of course.”
Libby, Tally, and the event coordinator comprised Goldie’s entourage as they made their way to Hall B.
Goldie kept her head down, almost as if she was hiding. As if she read Libby’s mind, Goldie whispered an explanation.
“If too many people see you walk to the space, it can cause a ruckus, and then the fans who paid for the autograph sessions and picture sessions get enraged,” Goldie said. And she gave Libby a wink.
“Makes sense.”
They walked through the huge spaces that comprised the massive Anaheim Convention Center.
“This place looks like something out of Star Trek,” Libby commented.
The event coordinator answered, “Actually, it is. They used this for exteriors and some interiors for Star Fleet.”
“Ah, well, I can see why.”
They snaked through the crowd. Libby had long legs, Goldie did not, but it was Goldie who set the fast pace.
They wound up at a row of tables at the end of the room. Clear plexiglass separated stations, where a celebrity sat at an elevated table. The line of fans, snaking through a rope maze, offered up an item up to the celebrity to sign.
Libby tried not to gawk at famous faces in the neighboring autograph areas. There was an action star she recognized, a beloved character actor, and even a celebrated comic book writer, all lined up, greeting fans.
They were each booked for one hour. Only fans who’d reserved time and purchased a special ticket were guaranteed a picture and autograph.
Libby stepped back out of the way as Tally opened a water bottle for Goldie, and the event coordinator used a walkie-talkie to communicate, presumably with some central organization office for the event.
“You ready, Ms. Hayes?”
“Fire away,” said Goldie. She turned to Libby. “If this gets boring, wander around. It’s the best people watching in the world at these things. You might even get some free swag!”
For the first time since they’d left her house, the megawatt smile of Goldie Hayes appeared, and it lit up her face. In Libby’s estimation, it could light up the entire hall. That smile turned Goldie Hayes right back into the spitting image of a teenage Liz Gould.
“Attention, Dream Factory Comic Con! Superstar Goldie Hayes is in the building! If you’re signed up for a session, head to Hall B for a picture and autograph!”
Libby felt a shift in the air. It was electric.
Disorganized milling about from the crowd beyond the ropes turned into something solid, a mass of people pushing forward to see Goldie.
She worried for a moment that Goldie’s bodyguard hadn’t made it back yet. Even fans who loved Goldie could be a little scary. This whole thing was a bit chaotic. It was wonderful, but it was also one click on the dial away from hysteria, Libby thought.
It was fascinating, but also it made Libby long for the quiet of the lake. This was going to be bananas.
The line formed, and the first few people approached Goldie. She smiled and signed posters, books, dolls, and whatever they presented to her from her movies.
But then, the crowd here increased in size but decreased in age. Libby noticed a preponderance of Victor Superhero Universe t-shirts and merch, as they called it.
Libby watched as a worried Tally leaned over Goldie.
“Uh, you're blowing up on Twitter,” Tally said and handed her phone to Goldie.
Goldie read the tweets aloud.
“Goldie Hayes dropped. Studio set to sue. Next, VSU movie delayed thanks to Goldie Haye’s antics.”
“This is gonna be a thing, I think,” Tally said. There was a grimace on the assistant’s face as she looked out toward the crowd amassing to approach Goldie.
“Yeah, and the rabid fanboys are jumping all over me on here. They want their next installment, and they want it now.”
Goldie handed the phone back to Tally.
Libby watched as a man, who looked to be in his twenties, with a Cromagnet Forever t-shirt on, walked up to Goldie.
“You WITCH!!! YOU RUINED THE FRANCHISE, AND WE’RE NOT GETTING OUR SPARKLE MOVIE PREVIEW!”
He threw his water bottle at Goldie and water sprayed Goldie and Tally.
Libby leaped forward.
“Hey, you little jerk. Back off!”
The swarm of people pressing forward didn’t look enraptured to meet a celebrity. They looked angry.
“Team TREVOR!”
“What? Team Trevor?” Goldie asked Tally.
“Justice for Trevor!” This was another shout from the crowd.
“Hashtag, yeah, worldwide trend, along with—”
“What?”
“GetGoldieGone.”
“Oh, boy,” Libby said.
As soon as Tally was done uttering the words, the same phrase rose above the general din of voices in the convention hall.
“Get Goldie Gone, Get Goldie Gone.”
The crush of fans knocked over the rope maze designed to control the crowd.
Something else flew through the air. This time, it was some sort of blonde doll. Had it hit someone, it would have hurt. It bounced off the plexiglass.
“Let’s go,” Libby said. She put her hand out to Goldie, and Goldie took it. But she looked unsure.
“I contracted to do this. I can’t leave.”
“That group wants to tear you apart,” Libby said.
Goldie stood up. A loud round of boos filled the space.
“Hey, this movie delay isn’t on me,” Goldie said. It was useless to try to argue with this mob.
“You’re a hag!!!!!”
Goldie looked confused, hurt, and like a deer in the headlights.
“Tally, grab her stuff,” Libby said as she took charge. She put an arm around Goldie and tried to shield her from the debris now coming their way in irregular intervals.
It looked like old movie posters of Goldie’s, a stuffed animal from the animated feature she’d voiced, and food.
“Good Lord, someone’s setting my poster on fire.”
The smell of smoke started to permeate the room. An alarm went off.
“We need to go.” Libby wasn’t taking no for an answer now.
Goldie was stunned, in shock, and it appeared that she was paralyzed by the unfolding fanboy chaos coming her way. This woman was used to being adored, Libby realized.
She needed to get Goldie moving.
“Where in the heck is Hollis?” Tally said. As though the crowd would hold off until the beefy security guard arrived.
Libby looked at Goldie. Her Botox had apparently broken loose because her face was no longer a smooth mask of dewy glamour but more like a contorted caricature of shock.
“Elizabeth Gould, snap out of it. We need to haul ass like the groundskeeper’s chasing us off the ninth green.”
That did it. Goldie shook her head and blinked. “Yeah, let’s go.”
Libby weaved around the other celebrities, who had the protection of security teams.
She guided them back behind the backdrop of the autograph stations. The swell of the crowd would knock those things down if it got any uglier.
“There, there’s the exit!” Tally yelled.
Libby saw it.
“Get Goldie Gone, Get Goldie Gone!” The chant got closer.
Libby looked back toward the roped-off area. It was now overrun with angry fans of the VSU.
“This way!” They heard a deep voice call to them and motion them over.
It was Hollis, Goldie’s driver. He had a service door propped open. The door led to the backstage area of the hall. Convention-goers didn’t have access to the bowels of the building, thank goodness, thought Libby.
Hollis held the door with one hand and had his phone out with the other.
Libby wondered for a split second why he’d be doing that, taking pictures. But it passed out of her brain in favor of the survival instinct to get Goldie out of there.
They nearly sprinted for five more minutes until they found themselves at the loading dock. Goldie’s car was waiting.
Hollis opened the car door, and the three women piled in. They were silent, working to manage their heart rates, and Tally kept looking out the rear window of the SUV.
As they drove away from the convention, Libby glanced at Goldie as her old friend processed the last few minutes.
“They are usually clamoring at that thing, but it’s to be nice to me, to tell me their favorite movie.”
“Well, looking at Twitter, it appears Trevor has weaponized his fan base. It’s all your fault they’re not getting what they want,” Tally said.
“Are you okay?” Libby put her hand out and squeezed Goldie’s.
“I, yeah, I am. I need to get home, get a drink maybe, call my agent. Wait, he just dropped me.”