Damage Control (The Hollywood Series Book 2) (29 page)

Minutes later, one of the producers took the stage and introduced the movie and then the actors and creators, calling them up to join him on stage one by one.

Stepping once more into the spotlight, Grace peered at the rows below and smiled at some familiar faces before saying a few words. She couldn’t even remember what she’d said afterward. It took some effort not to fidget while she waited until they could finally take their seats again.

Her nervousness grew as the lights dimmed and the red curtain parted, revealing a huge screen.

When the opening credits rolled, Jill reached over and took her hand. It was a bit clammy, just like Grace’s own. Good to know she wasn’t the only one who was a little nervous, even after years in show business. Smiling, she squeezed her friend’s fingers and focused on the movie. If she tried hard enough, she could almost forget that she was watching herself.

By the time they piled back into the limo, Jill looked exhausted.

Lauren and Grace exchanged worried glances. Just as Lauren was about to suggest that Jill should skip the after-party and head back to the hotel, Grace lowered the screen separating the back of the limousine from the front.

“Can we make a quick stop at the hotel?” Grace said to the driver.

“Of course, ma’am.” The driver pulled out into traffic.

Grace’s mother frowned. “Honey, we don’t want to be the last ones showing up at the after-party.”

“I’d really like to change before we head to the party,” Grace said. “I wouldn’t want to ruin this beautiful dress that you found for me.”

Lauren bit back a grin and gave Grace a hidden little nod.

When the limo stopped in front of the hotel, Grace said, “Why don’t you wait here? I’ll make it quick. Jill, can you come and help me out of this dress?”

Her mother opened her mouth to protest, but Grace already climbed out of the limo, Jill in tow.

Ten minutes later, Grace returned in a silvery jumpsuit that clung to her curves—and without Jill.

“How did you manage to get her to stay behind?” Lauren asked as they headed toward the after-party, which was being held at another hotel.

“Oh, that was easy. I just had her lie down on my bed while I pretended to think about what to wear. By the time I had changed, she was fast asleep. I left her a note in case she wakes up, which I doubt.”

Lauren knew Grace had to be just as exhausted and jet-lagged, even if she didn’t show it. As the movie’s lead actress, she had to make an appearance at the post-premiere party before she could get some rest, though.

The party was already in full flow when they arrived. The guest list looked like the who’s who of British and international film stars, and Mrs. Duvenbeck instantly left them to mingle with the rich, famous, and beautiful. Buffet tables were set up around the edges of the room, featuring some of the Southern food that the characters had cooked in the movie—grits, cornbread, fried chicken, and peanut butter pie. Lauren grinned. At least she could make sure that Grace ate more hearty food than two leaves of salad.

“I know what you’re thinking.” Grace wagged her finger at her.

Lauren tried to look innocent. “Which is?”

“You want to get me a plate piled high with that admittedly delicious-smelling food. Don’t even think about it, Lauren Pearce.”

“Actually, I was just thinking about the movie.” Well, the food in the movie, to be more precise.

“Oh.” Grace seemed to instantly forget about the food. “What did you think?” She looked at Lauren as if world peace depended on her answer.

Lauren knew the feeling well. She’d felt the same while she’d waited to hear how Grace had liked her script. It amazed her that a seasoned actress like Grace still seemed to care so much about what others thought of her performance. “I liked it.”

The tense set of Grace’s shoulders didn’t relax. “But?”

“Don’t be silly,” Mrs. Duvenbeck interrupted as she reappeared next to them. “There’s no but. You were great, darling. Wasn’t she?” She stared at Lauren, daring her to do anything but agree.

“You really were great,” Lauren said.

“See?” Mrs. Duvenbeck patted her daughter’s arm. “Even Ms. Pearce recognizes a talent of your magnitude when she sees it.”

Even me? What’s that supposed to mean?
Lauren held back the reply at the tip of her tongue. She didn’t want to spoil Grace’s special night by getting into a fight with her mother.

“Oh, there’s Lucius!” Mrs. Duvenbeck waved to someone across the room. “Come say hello to him, Grace.”

“Go ahead. I will join you in a minute,” Grace said. When her mother marched off, she turned to Lauren. “What did you really think?”

A passing-by waiter offered them glasses of champagne. Grace took a glass of orange juice instead, and Lauren followed suit.

“Well, you know that I’m not normally a fan of romantic movies, but I really liked this one. It was different from your other movies,” Lauren said. The movie had its lighter moments, but as a whole, it had been more serious than Grace’s usual romantic comedies—and more adult.

Images from the love scene still flashed through Lauren’s mind. It had been tastefully done, more romantic than erotic, but the curve of a full breast and fake sweat glittering on creamy skin still made Lauren wonder whether that had been Grace in the love scene or whether she’d used a body double.

“Different as in worse?” Grace asked, a tiny wrinkle between her brows.

“No. Not at all. Quite the opposite. It’s just my opinion, of course, but I liked this movie better than your others.”

“My mother didn’t think it was a good idea to take a chance on something different.”

“Well, I do,” Lauren said, not just so she wouldn’t have to agree with Grace’s mother. “No offense, but I think you’re wasting your talent on the kind of movies you’ve been making so far. I know you’ve got a much broader range as an actress. Why don’t you show it off more often?”

“Because…well, because it’s a risk. People love me for my romantic comedies. There’s no guarantee I’ll do as well in dramas.”

“True. But I think it’s a risk worth taking. You were great in
Ava’s Heart
.”

Grace nodded slowly as if letting Lauren’s words sink in. “Maybe we both need to learn to take more risks in our careers. I’ll tell you what. If you sell that script of yours, I’ll audition for the lead role.”

Orange juice splashed over the rim of Lauren’s glass. She gaped at Grace. “Are you serious?”

Before Grace could reply, her mother was back and dragged her across the room toward a silver-haired gentleman.

Stunned, Lauren stayed behind, staring after Grace.

By the time they made it home from the after-party, it was nearly one in the morning. Grace groaned when she remembered that they’d have to check out of the hotel to fly to Berlin at six.

Her mother staggered through their deluxe suite, mumbled “good night,” and disappeared into her bedroom, where she started to snore so fast that Grace doubted that she’d even removed her makeup before dropping onto the bed.

Grace kicked off her high heels on her way to the bathroom. Once she’d removed the makeup, her face looked as tired as she felt. She headed toward her own bedroom. At the door, she remembered Jill was probably still sleeping in her bed. She opened the door an inch and peeked in.

When her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she could make out Jill’s shape in the bed. She tiptoed in and retrieved her pajamas. For a moment, she considered rummaging through Jill’s purse to see if she could find her key card, but she didn’t want to invade her privacy or wake her. The promo tour was especially taxing on Jill, so she needed every little bit of sleep she could get.

Sighing, she turned back, changed into her pajamas, and made herself comfortable on the sofa in the living area.

Her mother’s snoring drifted through the door.

Grace pressed a couch pillow over her face, hoping to drown out the noise, but it was no use. Her mother could outdo a lumberjack when it came to the volume of her snoring. Grace tossed and turned for a few minutes. She was exhausted and jet-lagged, but after the premiere and the party, adrenaline was still buzzing through her system. With her mother’s snoring, she wouldn’t be able to settle down and sleep.

She stared up at the dark ceiling. How the heck could Jill sleep through that racket? Either the second door drowned it out, or Jill was dead to the world. Grunting, Grace tossed off the afghan and put on the bathrobe the hotel provided. Maybe some nice, cold water would help. She slipped the key card into the bathrobe’s pocket, took the ice bucket from the kitchenette, and softly closed the door behind her.

Someone else had apparently had the same idea. Lauren stood in front of the ice machine in sweatpants and a T-shirt. She coughed once, confirming that it was really her, even before she turned.

“What are you doing up?” Lauren asked. “Is Jill still in your bed?” She bit her lip as if only now realizing how that sounded. “I mean…”

“I know what you meant. Yes, she is, but that’s not the problem. The sofa is pretty comfortable…if no one is snoring next door.”

“Your mother?”

Grace nodded.

Lauren scratched her neck. She looked cute in a T-shirt that had an image of a yellow, downy chick and the words
PR chick
printed on the front. “Well, I would offer to let you bunk with me, but I don’t have a suite and there’s just one bed in my room, so…”

“It’s okay.” Grace didn’t want to even imagine the drama if her mother found out that she’d spent the night with Lauren, no matter how innocently.

“Oh, but I packed some earplugs. Do you want them?”

It seemed Lauren had thought of everything. Grace wondered if she was always so well prepared. Probably. “Oh God, yes. I’d give my right arm for earplugs, maybe throw in the left one too for good measure.”

“Nah. I think your fans like you better with all your body parts intact. Come on. Let’s get you the earplugs so that you can get some sleep.” Lauren led her to her room, which was just a few doors down from Grace’s suite.

Her hand rested lightly on the small of Grace’s back, warming her skin even through the thick terrycloth robe. Grace’s fuzzy brain decided that it liked the feeling. She was almost disappointed when Lauren took her hand away to slide her key card through the lock.
Sleep. I definitely need sleep.

They stepped into the room, which smelled faintly of Lauren’s perfume.

Lauren bent and rummaged through her suitcase.

She had a nice ass, even in her baggy sweatpants. Grace roughly shook her head to get rid of the disjointed thoughts her overtired brain came up with.

“Here.” Lauren turned and offered her the earplugs on her outstretched palm.

Grace walked over and took them, careful not to let her fingers linger. “Thank you. You’re a lifesaver.”

“All part of the service, ma’am,” Lauren said with a tired grin. She accompanied Grace to the door and placed one shoulder against the wall as if she needed the support.

“You should try to get some sleep now too. Don’t stay up working.” Knowing Lauren, she’d start checking e-mail or something equally crazy the moment she left her.

“Okay, okay. I’m heading straight to bed, I swear.”

Grace gave her a nod of approval. “Good night.”

“Good night,” Lauren said.

They looked at each other for a few moments longer; then Grace stepped past Lauren and opened the door.

“Grace?”

“Yes?” she answered, holding her breath for some reason she didn’t fully understand.

“I really liked how you portrayed Ava.”

A feeling of pleasure flowed through her, chasing away the exhaustion. “Thank you. That means a lot, coming from you, PR chick.”

Peering down at her T-shirt, Lauren laughed.

With new energy in her step, Grace stepped into the corridor, softly pulling the door closed between them. After taking one deep breath, she turned—and nearly collided with someone.

“Jill!” At the last moment, she grabbed her friend’s arms and held on before she could fall. “Jesus, what are you doing up?”

Still in her now-wrinkled dress from the premiere, Jill yawned and said, “Heading to my own bed. You tricked me, Betty Grace Duvenbeck!”

Grace winced at the name but then grinned unrepentantly. “You needed the sleep.”

“Yes, I did. You look like you could use some too. Whose bed did you just get out of?” Jill asked in a teasing tone and pointed at the door behind Grace.

Heat flooded Grace’s cheeks. She stammered out her answer before she could think about how it would sound. “Lauren’s.”

Jill’s eyes widened.

“No, I mean her room. She was just giving me some earplugs because Mom is snoring like a bear in winter.” Grace presented the earplugs like a piece of evidence, at the same time wondering why she felt the need to prove anything. She rubbed her overly warm cheeks. “I really need to get some sleep.”

Jill gave her a quick hug and then a gentle push. “Go. We’ll talk tomorrow.”