Damage Control (The Hollywood Series Book 2) (15 page)

Minutes went by, but Lauren didn’t find an answer. Maybe she was just building this up in her mind, making more out of it than it really was. Only a person in a coma would be able to resist taking a peek at Grace Durand in a swimsuit. Being attracted to one of the sexiest women alive was perfectly normal for a lesbian, right? It was just a physical thing, easy to ignore.

With that kind of encouragement in mind, she picked up the laptop and went inside.

Everything was quiet in the cottage. Just when Lauren started to wonder where Grace had gone, the door in the corner of the living room opened.

Grace stepped out, wearing nothing but a towel. The damp material did nothing to conceal the shape of her full breasts or her curvy hips. Her cheeks were flushed from her shower. She had wound her golden-blonde hair into a knot on top of her head and secured it with a clip, giving Lauren a view of her elegant neck and her bare shoulders.

Lauren struggled not to stare.
This is so not fair.

“Sorry,” Grace said when she saw Lauren standing frozen in the middle of the living room. “I forgot to take a change of clothes into the bathroom with me. Feel free to take a shower too.”

“Thanks. I’ll definitely take you up on that offer,” Lauren said, managing to sound fairly normal. She needed a shower—a cold one.

“I’ll put out something for you to wear.” Barefoot, Grace padded past Lauren and climbed up the ladder to the loft.

See? Just a physical thing,
Lauren repeated her new mantra.
No problem, right? Easy to—

Grace’s towel rode up, revealing a glimpse of bare thigh and the rounded bottom of her ass.

Lauren quickly looked away and clamped her teeth around her bottom lip to suppress a groan. Marlene couldn’t have picked a better test for her. Determined to prove her professionalism, she marched to the bathroom for a cold shower.

Twenty minutes later, Lauren entered the living room in the clothes that Grace had put just inside the bathroom door for her. Grace had to smile as she caught sight of her. The sweatpants were too short for her by a few inches since Lauren was a bit taller and heavier, but she didn’t seem to mind. She wore them with the same confidence as she would a pair of tailored slacks. Her hair had apparently been towel-dried and finger-combed; it hung loosely around her face.

Grace decided that she liked seeing her that way. It was a refreshing change of pace from the high-maintenance divas she often worked with.

“Was there enough hot water left?” Grace asked from the tiny kitchen unit.

“I didn’t…uh, yeah, thanks. And thanks for the clothes.”

“You’re welcome.” Grace carried the tray she’d prepared over to her and gestured at Lauren to take a seat on the couch. “I thought we should eat something before we go to bed.” With an apologetic shrug, she put the tray of cheese, salami, and crackers on the coffee table. “Normally, I hit the store in town before driving up to the cottage. I don’t keep much food here, so it’s not exactly haute cuisine.”

“Unlike the extravagant meal I prepared for you yesterday,” Lauren said, grinning.

Grace had to think for a moment before she grasped her meaning. Somehow, it seemed much longer than just a day since they’d eaten hot dogs at Lauren’s place. “Yeah, we seem to make a habit out of this. Let’s not tell my mother, or she’ll put me on a diet.”

Lauren snorted. “Please. You don’t need a diet.”

Grace popped a piece of cheese into her mouth and studied Lauren while she chewed. “Why, Lauren Pearce,” she said with a teasing smile. “Was that a compliment?”

“It’s in my contract, isn’t it?” Lauren assembled layers of crackers, cheese, and salami into a mini-sandwich. “The publicist shall provide the aforementioned client with daily compliments. Any delay or failure to perform this obligation will result in an immediate termination of the contract,” she said, sounding as if she were reading from a legal document.

With a cracker halfway to her mouth, Grace paused. Now no longer teasing, she said, “While we’re exchanging compliments… I think I should tell you that I’m really glad I didn’t allow my mother to fire you. You’re doing a good job as my publicist.”

Lauren stopped chewing. A hint of red tinged her cheeks.

Grace smiled, charmed by her modesty.

“Uh, thanks, but I don’t think I deserve that praise,” Lauren said. “I didn’t get your statement to the blogger on time, and things went downhill from there.”

The self-critical response was a surprise. Most people Grace had worked with so far were quick to blame everyone else when things didn’t go well. “He posted his story long before the deadline he gave you. That’s hardly your fault.”

Lauren reached for a slice of salami and held it in her hand without eating. “Still…”

“Stop beating yourself up for something that wasn’t within your control.”

“I’m not.”

“Good.” Grace gave her a smile. “Or you’d have to handle a headline tomorrow about Grace Durand beating some sense into her publicist.”

Grinning, Lauren popped the piece of salami into her mouth.

Finally, when the last crumb of their impromptu dinner was gone, Grace cleared the table and then settled back on the couch. She gestured at the laptop that Lauren had brought inside. “Can I see the statement you prepared for tomorrow?”

“Sure. We should talk about how to handle the press conference anyway.”

Grace pulled the laptop over and opened the lid. The document that Lauren had left open appeared on the screen, and Grace read through it. “Hmm,” she said when she looked back up. “I don’t think Jill will like this. It makes her look like a helpless damsel.”

“It makes her look like someone who has a neurological condition and therefore needs help on occasion,” Lauren said. “It’s the only way to make people stop questioning your presence in Jill’s trailer and her hotel room.”

True, but still… For the first time, Grace wondered whether it had been the best idea for Lauren to become Jill’s publicist too. “So you phrased it like that for me? What about Jill? Shouldn’t we use a statement that protects her?”

Lauren looked her in the eyes. “I honestly think this is best for Jill too. I don’t know her very well, but from what I’ve seen so far, I think her MS will become obvious to the people she works with sooner rather than later. What if she has a flare-up in the middle of shooting a scene or during a press event?”

Grace had asked herself the same thing before, but she didn’t have an answer.

“If she stops pretending everything is all right and openly discusses the limitations that come with MS, I think people will only respect her more.”

After thinking about it for a moment, Grace nodded slowly. “Maybe you’re right.”

“Yes. But there’s something else you probably won’t like.”

Not sure she wanted to hear it, Grace gestured at Lauren to tell her anyway.

“I want to allow a few questions from the media at the end of the press conference,” Lauren said.

Grace sucked in a breath as she imagined the kind of questions the reporters would ask. “But won’t that open us up for questions that we really shouldn’t answer? What if they bring up my marriage to Nick?”

“We’re taking a bit of a chance, but if we just read the statement without answering the reporters’ questions, it will only feed the media frenzy and make them even more hungry for additional information.”

Unfortunately, she was right. Grace played with the laptop’s trackpad, making the mouse arrow stagger across the screen. “So what do I tell them if they ask about Nick and me?”

“Don’t lie, but don’t tell them the truth either. You could tell them that Nick is just as outraged as you about the accusations of infidelity. In fact…” A cough interrupted her. “Sorry. It would be a good idea to have Nick there for the press conference, showing his support. I should have thought of it when he was here earlier, but…”

“It’s okay. I don’t blame you for being thrown off stride by that little bit of celebrity drama.” God knows she had been caught off guard by it too. “I’ll call him first thing tomorrow morning and ask him to come.”

“Why don’t you let me do it?” Lauren said. “I need to coach him on what to say anyway.”

Grace studied her. Was Lauren trying to spare her the indignity of having to ask her future ex-husband a favor? Well, after today’s conversation with Nick, she wasn’t too proud to accept that offer. “All right. Thank you.”

Lauren coughed again.

“Come on. Let’s go to bed before you do cough up a lung.” Grace got up and made up the couch with a spare set of sheets while Lauren made a quick trip to the bathroom.

Finally, with their teeth brushed, they stood facing each other in the middle of the living room.

“Good night,” Grace said. “And thanks for today. Driving me up here and everything. Giving compliments might be in your contract, but I know most of the other things you did today aren’t.” She hesitated but then gave in to the impulse. Quickly, she leaned forward and hugged Lauren for just a second before backing away.

She was halfway to the ladder before Lauren’s “you’re welcome” reached her.

Smiling, Grace climbed up into the loft and crawled into bed.

From below, the sounds of Lauren getting settled on the couch drifted up.

It should have been slightly awkward to sleep practically in the same room, especially here in her private sanctuary, but for some reason, Grace found it comforting to know that Lauren was down there. She turned off the light, closed her eyes, and listened to Lauren’s soft coughing until she drifted off to sleep.

CHAPTER 11

By the time Lauren woke, the gray light of dawn had crept into the cottage. She reached for her wristwatch that she’d set on the coffee table serving as her nightstand. It was barely after five. She listened for a few moments, but upstairs, in the loft, nothing moved.

As quietly as possible, she gathered her clothes and tiptoed to the bathroom.

Finally, armed with her cell phone and Grace’s laptop, she went outside to the patio so she wouldn’t wake Grace.

The signal strength icon on her phone showed a single bar. Despite a momentary flash of guilt because of the early hour, she called Tina and told her which reporters to invite to the press conference. Just when she contemplated whether it was a good idea to call Nick so early, the glass door behind her slid open and Grace joined her on the patio.

“Good morning.” She set a mug of steaming coffee on the table next to Lauren and kept a second one for herself.

“Morning. Thank you.” Lauren peeked into the mug and grinned. Grace had remembered her preference; the coffee was black and hopefully strong.

They sat next to each other at the small table, their hands wrapped around their mugs for warmth, slowly sipping their beverages while they watched the fog roll in and sweep through the canyon below. The first hue of dawn lit up the mountains and hills surrounding them. With a view like this, Lauren understood why Grace didn’t keep a TV in the cottage.

Neither of them seemed to feel the need to fill the silence with small talk, and Lauren was grateful that Grace wasn’t one of the chatty stars she represented.

Finally, when her coffee was gone and the sun was climbing higher, she turned toward Grace and took in the faint shadows under her eyes. Grace probably hadn’t slept too well, maybe going over possible questions and answers in that state between sleep and wakefulness.

“Don’t worry,” Grace said as if guessing Lauren’s thoughts. “Nothing a little concealer won’t cure.”

“All right. I’ll call Jill and Nick to let them know when to be at CTP, and then let’s get going. We need to stop by my apartment so I can get changed, and I want to coach Jill on what to say before we head to the office for the press conference.”

Grace tugged on the sweatpants and the long-sleeved T-shirt she was wearing. “Any advice on what to wear?”

Lauren considered it for a moment, her mind showing her flashes of the clothes that Grace might have in her closet. She quickly discarded the more elegant dresses, no matter how beautiful Grace might look in them. “Pick something that says ‘helpful friend’ rather than ‘sexy vixen.’”

“You’ve got something against sexy?” Grace asked, a light smile playing around her lips.

Oh, not at all, believe me.
Lauren bit her lip and stopped herself from saying it. “No. I just think we should play on your friendly girl-next-door image. We want them to see you as Jill’s friend, not as a woman she might lust after.”

“Got it. Helpful friend it is.” Grace got up and headed inside.

Lauren squared her shoulders and walked over to the corner of the patio where she had the best cell phone reception. When the display finally showed one bar, she pulled Nick’s business card out of her pocket and typed in the number.

The phone rang and rang and rang.

Just when Lauren thought voice mail would pick up, Nick’s groggy voice came from the other end of the line. “Yeah?”

“Nick, it’s Lauren Pearce.” When only silence answered, she added, “Grace’s publicist.”

Sheets rustled. “Is she okay?” he asked, sounding wide-awake now.

“She’s fine,” Lauren said quickly. “I’m sorry to bother you this early on a Saturday, but I need a favor.”

“A favor?” he drawled.

“We’re going to hold a press conference at ten, trying to stop the rumors once and for all by telling the press that Jill has MS.”

That stunned him into silence for several seconds. “MS? What the fuck? Is this some PR trick?”

“No. I wish it were, but sadly, it isn’t. I would never say something like that if it weren’t true.”

“Damn. I had no idea.” Nick sighed and then asked, “Does Grace know?”

Lauren hesitated, not sure how much Grace would want him to know.

“Don’t bother. Of course she knows. Why didn’t she tell me?”

“I don’t know. Jill probably didn’t want her to,” Lauren said, feeling the need to defend Grace.

Nick huffed out a breath. “And now she suddenly wants to tell the whole world?”

“She’s doing it for Grace.”

“You know, Grace said the rumors aren’t true, but sometimes, I really wonder what’s going on between those two,” Nick muttered.

“It’s called friendship, Nick.” Not that she, herself, had a friend like that in her life.

Soft noises indicated that Nick was getting out of bed. “So now you want me to be her friend too and show up for the press conference, right?”

“Right.”

He sighed. “When and where do you need me?”

The paparazzi had picked up their trail somewhere on the way from Lauren’s apartment to Glendale and followed them to Jill’s house.

Grace gritted her teeth in the passenger seat when she saw the SUVs and the cars behind them. “Damn.”

“Don’t worry,” Lauren said. “We’ll clear up what’s really going on in an hour anyway, so even if they post the photos they’ll take of us entering Jill’s home, it won’t matter anymore.”

True. Grace just hoped things would settle down after the press conference. She couldn’t take this constant hide-and-seek with the paparazzi for much longer.

Jill’s housekeeper opened the door when they rang the bell. “Oh, thank God you’re here, Ms. Durand,” she said, clutching Grace’s shoulders and nearly dragging her inside.

Tramp ran up to them, wagging his tail so hard that his rear end shook from side to side.

Grace gently freed herself of the housekeeper’s grip and petted the dog while she looked at the stairs leading to the master bedroom. Concern gnawed at her, but she stopped herself from rushing upstairs. “Is Jill all right? Are the symptoms worse today?”

“Oh, no, it’s not that. She’s just a nervous wreck because of the press conference. She’s been upstairs in her room since you called earlier.”

“Would you mind waiting down here?” Grace said to Lauren, who had entered after her. “I’ll go up and see if she needs any help getting ready.”

“Sure,” Lauren said. “I’ll keep Tramp company. Come on, boy.” When she patted her thigh and walked off in the direction of the living room, Tramp bounded after her.

Grace climbed the stairs, taking them two at a time.

The door to the master bedroom was closed, so she knocked.

A grunt answered.

Hesitatingly, Grace opened the door a few inches and peeked inside the room.

Jill stood in front of the mirrored closet doors, wearing just a pair of panties. She held a bra in her hands but seemed to struggle with the tiny hooks.

“Jill? Can I come in?”

“Sure, if you don’t mind seeing me in my birthday suit.”

Grace had seen Jill half-dressed before and had even helped her undress in the hotel in Macon, when Jill hadn’t been able to manage on her own. Now that she knew Jill was gay, it felt different, though.
Oh, come on. That’s stupid. She’s the same old Jill.
She gave herself a mental push and entered.

Her lips pressed together, Jill continued to fumble with the bra closure. “This goddamn clasp just won’t…argh!” She threw the bra across the room.

It ricocheted off the doorjamb next to Grace and hit her in the chest. She caught it reflexively and raised one brow. “Do you think this is a new phase in my career? I never had women throw their bras at me before.”

Jill stared at her and then began to laugh. The frustration fled from her expression. “You’re one of a kind, you know that?”

Grace shrugged and closed the door behind her. “So, what’s wrong with the bra?”

Jill scowled at the offending garment. “Nothing. The MS is just messing with my fine motor skills, so I can’t get the clasp to close.”

“Want some help?”

“Yes, please,” Jill said after a moment’s hesitation. “I don’t think Lauren would want me to show up at the press conference without a bra.”

“I doubt it.” Grace carried the bra over to her friend and then looked back and forth between Jill’s face and the article of clothing. “Uh, how do we do this?”

“I don’t know. You just put it on.”

“Easier said than done.” Grace’s attempt to give Jill some privacy by not looking at her naked chest wasn’t making it any easier. “I never helped another woman put on her bra before.”

“Me neither. My experience is limited to taking them off.” Jill grinned and winked.

Grace socked her in the arm, and some of the awkwardness disappeared. She helped Jill slip first one arm, then the other through the bra straps before walking around to fasten the hooks.

Jill adjusted her breasts in the cups. Grinning, she watched Grace in the mirror. “You’re not blushing, are you?”

“No, of course not!” Grace pulled on one bra strap, letting it snap against Jill’s skin.

“Ouch! Hey, you’re here to help me, not to relive junior high.”

Reaching over Jill’s shoulders, Grace adjusted the bra straps for a more comfortable fit. “Well, I never really went to high school, so…”

Jill turned to face her. “You didn’t?”

“I was schooled at home and on sets by my mother and tutors,” Grace said. At the mention of her mother, she sobered, remembering that Jill had wanted to tell her family about her MS. “Did you call your family yesterday?”

Jill just nodded. She walked over to her closet and pulled out a dress, holding it out for Grace to see. Except for its color, it resembled Grace’s light blue summer dress, so it probably fulfilled Lauren’s helpful-friend-not-sexy-vixen criteria. Grace nodded her approval.

“How did they take it?” she asked while she helped Jill pull the dress over her head.

Jill put up a brave front most of the time, hiding behind witty comments, but this time, her expression was serious as her face reappeared through the dress’s opening. “It was bad, like I expected. My mother cried as if I would fall over dead any moment, and my brother declared it my punishment for being gay.”

Grace nearly ripped the fabric of the dress she’d just straightened. “Excuse me? What kind of brother would say that?”

“My homophobic asshole brother.”

“He doesn’t deserve a sister like you.”

“I know,” Jill said, now with her trademark impish grin.

Grace pointed at the jewelry on Jill’s dresser. “Jewelry?”

Jill batted her lashes at her. “Isn’t it a little soon in our relationship for that?”

“You!” She backhanded her across the shoulder but couldn’t help returning Jill’s grin. She knew that humor was Jill’s way of dealing with things. “I meant do you want to wear any jewelry?”

“No, thanks,” Jill said. “I think I’ll go
au naturel
today.”

Grace fastened a pair of flat sandals for Jill and peeked up at her. “Will any of your family be there for the press conference?”

“No. I don’t want them to come. How about your mother? She’ll be there, right?”

Only now did Grace realize she’d forgotten to call her mother to let her know about the press conference. She pressed her hand to her mouth. “Oh, shit.”

“What?”

“I forgot to let her know.” Grace looked at her watch. It was too late now. Her mother would never get ready in time.

Jill laughed. “I think I’d rather call my mother again to tell her I have MS than call your mother and tell her you forgot to inform her about the press conference.”

Grace stepped up to the microphone and adjusted it, ignoring the camera flashes. She gazed down at the sea of reporters that had crowded into Chandler & Troy Publicity’s conference room. There were even two news teams with cameras and microphones.

Even though she was shaking inside, she flashed her Hollywood smile and gave them a friendly nod. “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. Thank you all for coming.”

Next to her, Jill gripped the side of the podium with both hands.

Grace wasn’t sure if her friend had problems with her balance again or was just nervous. She reached out and wrapped one arm around Jill.

More flashes went off.

Grace glanced to the left, where Lauren stood slightly behind them, with Nick by her side. In a gray suit and a purple blouse, she looked calm and composed. She gave Grace an encouraging nod.

Squeezing Jill’s shoulder, Grace took a deep breath. “You probably all followed the headlines about me and Jill that have flooded the media in the last two weeks. We called this press conference to set the record straight—pun intended.”

A few of the reporters chuckled, and Grace smiled. Lauren had written a great beginning for their press conference, making sure to keep the tone friendly and not turn the entire event into a confrontation with the media.

“Yes, it’s true that I accompanied Jill to her trailer on more than one occasion while we were on location, and we also booked a hotel room in Macon together,” Grace said and paused to let the hastily scribbling reporters catch up. “But I’m afraid the reason is not nearly as exciting as you think.”