Damage Control (The Hollywood Series Book 2) (36 page)

Paparazzi swarmed around them as soon as they left the restaurant.

“Is Todd the new man in your life, Grace?” one of them shouted while snapping away.

“Does Nick know?” another asked.

Grace ignored them and walked toward the town car the service had sent.

“I could have driven you home, you know?” Todd said.

“If you’d done that, the paparazzi would have kept following us, hoping to get a picture of a juicy good-night kiss.”

Grinning, he wrapped one arm around her and pulled her against his side. “Well, then maybe we should give them what they want so they’ll stop following us around.”

Flashes went off all around them.

Grace turned toward him. When he leaned forward, she put one hand on his chest, stopping him while trying to make it look like a caress to the paparazzi. “Todd,” she murmured. “You know this isn’t real, right?”

“It could be,” he whispered back.

She shook her head. “You’re a nice guy, but…”

He groaned. “Don’t give me the I-just-think-of-you-as-a-friend speech.”

Grace poked him in the ribs in a buddy-like way. “Oh, come on. I don’t imagine you hear that speech too often. I bet women are crazy for you.”

“Just not you.”

“Not me.” Grace tried not to think about why that might be.

When Todd left, some of the paparazzi followed him. A few trailed the town car, but none braved the drive up to the cottage in the dark. Grace wanted to believe that they’d learned their lesson after her accident and would now stop hunting her no matter what, but the truth was that they were probably just worried for their cars.

She waited until she was fairly sure no paparazzi were hanging around on the main street, then got into her SUV.
This is crazy. Driving all the way back to LA for a dessert… Completely nuts.
On her way to Brentwood, she almost turned back around twice. But every time, an image of Lauren, suffering alone at home, urged her to continue. She found a parking spot a block away from Lauren’s apartment building and kept her head down, hoping no one would recognize her as she carried the wrapped crème brûlée through Lauren’s neighborhood. Even when she stood in front of the door, she wasn’t sure she’d ring the doorbell or turn back around.

No big deal,
she tried to tell herself. It was just dessert. Lauren had bought her ice cream when she’d been injured on location, and now she was returning the favor. Nothing more to it.

She pressed the buzzer before she could change her mind.

It seemed to take forever until Lauren’s voice came through the intercom, sounding even hoarser than before. “Yes?”

Had she been sleeping?
God, this was a bad idea.

“Who’s there?” Lauren asked.

“Um, Lauren, it’s me. Grace.”

After an audible intake of breath, the buzzer sounded.

When Grace reached the apartment on the first floor, Lauren was waiting in the doorway, holding on to the door. Her short hair was tousled. She was wearing shorts and a T-shirt but no socks.

Grace immediately wanted to lecture her and then send her back to bed, but she bit her tongue. She wasn’t Lauren’s mother or her girlfriend.

“What are you doing here?” Lauren asked with her raspy voice. “I thought you were out with what’s-his-name?”

As her publicist, Lauren had to know Todd’s name, so Grace didn’t supply it. She lifted the container with the crème brûlée. “Bringing you dessert.”

A slow smile spread over Lauren’s flushed features. “Ice cream?”

“No. Damn. I should have gotten that. It would have been better for your throat, right?”

Lauren pulled her into the apartment. “I’ll take whatever I can get. I didn’t feel up to grocery shopping today, and my fridge wasn’t that well-stocked to start with.”

Grace shook her head at her. “God, you really need a girlfriend to take care of you.”

Lauren didn’t answer, reminding Grace of where her romantic interests lay at the moment.

Great. Now things were awkward again. Grace looked around the apartment, anywhere but at Lauren.

The laptop stood open on the coffee table. Lauren had dragged the bed covers into the living room and had created herself a little nest on the couch. Grace gently pushed her toward it, guiding her with one hand against her back.

Lauren’s body felt overly warm where she touched it. When Lauren sank onto the couch, she peered down into her flushed face and frowned. “Are you running a fever?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Let me see.” She put the container down on the coffee table and bent over her.

Lauren pulled back. “You don’t need to…”

“Come on. Trust me. I once played a doctor on TV, you know?”

The husky sound of Lauren’s laughter created goose bumps all over Grace’s arms.

“Well,” Lauren said, “since you’re so highly qualified, go ahead.” She held still as Grace softly touched her forehead. Her flush deepened and then slowly lessened when Grace took her hand away and stepped back.

It took a few seconds for Grace to understand.
Oh.
Lauren wasn’t running a fever. Her body was just reacting to Grace’s closeness.

“What’s the diagnosis, Doc? Will I live?”

“I’m pretty sure you’ll survive.” Grace turned away and searched the small kitchen for a spoon. She took her time, using the minute alone, where Lauren couldn’t see her, to get herself back together.
We’re adults. We can deal with this.
Spoon in hand, she marched back to the couch. “Here.”

Eagerly, Lauren removed the aluminum foil from the container and peeked in. “What is it? Crème brûlée?”

“Not just any crème brûlée. It’s coffee crème brûlée.”

“Ooh!” Lauren dug in, breaking the crust, and lifted a spoonful of the dessert to her mouth. Her eyes fluttered shut, and a moan escaped her lips. “Oh my God,” she mumbled around the spoon and then slowly withdrew it. “That’s so good.”

Her throat suddenly dry, Grace swallowed. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Like it?” Lauren shook her head and took another spoonful. “I love it. This is exactly what the doctor ordered.” She lowered the container for a moment and looked into Grace’s eyes. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Grace said. She watched Lauren enjoy her treat for a few moments longer and then tore herself away. “I should go. If I don’t get enough sleep, the makeup artist at the interview won’t be very happy with me.”

Lauren put the container down. “Are you sure it’s safe to drive up to the cottage in the darkness?”

“It’s no problem at all. I’ve done it a thousand times.”

The worried frown didn’t disappear from Lauren’s face. “Not with just one arm.”

“The SUV has power steering,” Grace said.

“Still. A while ago, you didn’t even want to get in a car.”

Grace didn’t like the reminder, but she appreciated Lauren’s concern. “That was four weeks ago, right after the accident. I’m over it now.”

“Just be careful, okay?”

“I promise to be careful if you promise to stop working and go to bed.” Grace pointed at the laptop. “Deal?”

Lauren hesitated. “I need to finish—”

“Please. For me.”

“You’re fighting dirty,” Lauren grumbled but obediently reached out and closed the laptop. “There. Happy now?”

“Yes. Thanks.” Grace slowly made her way to the door. When Lauren moved to follow her, she waved her back, not wanting her to step onto the cold tiles by the entrance with her bare feet. At the door, she turned.

Their gazes met across the room.

A thousand thoughts rushed through Grace’s mind. She latched on to a straightforward, uncomplicated one and said, “Get better soon.”

“I’ll do my best. Have a safe flight.”

After one last glance, Grace stepped outside and closed the door. She stood in the corridor, staring off into space for God knew how long.

One of Lauren’s neighbors went by with a garbage bag and did a double take when he saw Grace.

She kicked herself into motion and hurried back to her car.

CHAPTER 26

This attraction was reaching a ridiculous level. Lauren shook her head at herself. Grace had been back from New York for a couple of days already, but Lauren still hadn’t talked over the fall schedule with her. She had even contemplated having Tina take over as Grace’s publicist for good, but how could she justify it to her boss?

Sorry, Marlene, but I have trouble thinking straight—pun intended—whenever she’s around?
Lauren made a face. No, she couldn’t do that, especially not now that Marlene had started talking about promoting her as a reward for how well she’d handled Grace’s marketing campaign. She’d just have to grin and bear it. At some point, this damn attraction had to fade away if she just gave it time, right?

But the more time went by, the more Lauren began to doubt whether it was really just physical attraction. This wasn’t some starstruck infatuation with a gorgeous celebrity. When she thought of Grace—which was more often than she liked to admit—she didn’t think of her all made up in a cocktail dress and stilettos, showing off her curves and her famous smile on the red carpet. She thought of the travel-weary woman with the black eye who had enjoyed her ice cream with childlike glee. She thought of Grace hanging on to the ivy-covered wall for dear life, peering down at the lights of Paris from the Eiffel Tower, watching the sun set over Topanga Canyon, and doing the dishes after having hot dogs with Lauren.

She longed for one more of those moments with Grace, but since she’d blabbed her less-than-professional feelings, they both didn’t know how to act around each other anymore.

With a frustrated growl, she grabbed her keys and the thick, red folder on her desk and headed out.

“Hi.” Lauren stood on the cottage’s doorstep, holding a red file folder with both hands.

The flush was gone from her features, and the dark circles under her eyes had faded. Relief trickled through Grace at seeing her look so healthy. “Hi. Come on in. You look good… I mean, healthy.” She mentally rolled her eyes and told herself to relax. It was perfectly okay for a straight woman to tell a friend she looked good, wasn’t it?

“Yeah. Thanks. I feel much better,” Lauren said as she followed her to the stone patio.

A small lizard fled as they stepped outside and settled at the table.

“How’s the arm?” Lauren asked.

“Itching like crazy.” Grace trailed her fingernails over the cast as if that would help. “I can’t wait to get this thing off.”

A wrinkle formed between Lauren’s brows as she stared at the cast.

Grace followed her gaze and realized Lauren was looking at the autograph Todd had insisted on placing on the cast. She covered it with her hand and barely resisted the urge to explain. Lauren wasn’t her girlfriend or anything; Grace didn’t owe her an explanation.

Lauren tore her gaze away from the cast and placed the red file folder on the table. “Shall we get started?”

Her businesslike tone was unexpectedly hurtful. Grace bit her lip and nodded. She opened her day planner so they could go over her appointments and promo opportunities for the next three months.

Lauren leafed through calendar pages. “The awards season starts in November, so we should have you sit down for interviews with
Entertainment Tonight
and all the other big outlets next month.”

“All right.” Grace didn’t look forward to more interviews, but they were part of her job.

Clicking her pen on and off a few times, Lauren said, “There’s one thing we should talk about before that.” More clicking. “Now that the media knows about your impending divorce, they’ll pepper you with questions about your private life. What are you going to tell them about Todd Walbert?”

Grace sighed. “What do you think I should tell them?”

Lauren dropped the pen on the open file. “Depends on what’s going on between the two of you.”

“Nothing. I mean, we went out three times, but I don’t see it going anywhere.”

“So you’ll stop seeing him?”

If only she could do that. “My mother thinks I should keep going out with him.”

“That’s what your mother thinks, but what do you think?” Lauren asked.

“I don’t know.” Grace put her elbow on the table and rubbed her forehead with the base of her thumb. “I don’t want to go out with him, but—”

“Then don’t do it.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“Yes, it is.” Lauren snapped the folder closed. “You’re an adult and don’t have to do what your mother tells you.”

“You don’t understand.”

“Damn right.” Lauren’s voice became louder. Her eyes sparked. “I don’t understand why you keep letting your mother run your life and pretending to be fine with whatever she wants.”

What the hell was going on with Lauren? Where was all that anger coming from? Grace had done nothing to deserve that kind of treatment. She felt her own temper rise too. “I’m not letting her run my life; she just guides my career.”

“Yeah, and what exactly qualifies her to do that?” Sarcasm dripped off Lauren’s words. “The fact that she’s a former actress that never amounted to anything? Can’t you see that not all of her advice is based on what’s best for your career? She just wants you to date that soccer player because—”

“Oh, so that’s what this is really about. This isn’t about me or my mother. You’re just jealous of Todd!”

“Bullshit!” Lauren smashed the folder onto the table, making it rattle. “I’m trying to do my job as a publicist.”

Grace snorted. “Oh yeah. That’s why you’re shouting at me. Very professional.”

“I wouldn’t need to shout if you’d listen to me. Your mother’s advice is bringing you right back to the tabloids’ attention, and I know that’s not what you want. But your mother doesn’t give a damn about what—”

“Don’t talk about my mother like that! She gave up everything for me—her own career, her friends, and her home back in Illinois—to focus on my career.”

“You never asked her to do that.”

“No,” Grace said, struggling not to shout, “but she did.”

“And now you have to give up your own life in return?”

“Who says that’s what I’m doing?”

Lauren raised her chin and looked into her eyes, challenging her. “When was the last time you ordered dessert without earning a dirty look from your mother or feeling guilty?”

Grace opened her mouth to say something, but Lauren just kept talking.

“When was the last time you did something, anything, just because you felt like it, without wondering what your mother or anyone else would think?”

“I do that all the time,” Grace said. Goddammit, Lauren was making her sound like a child who couldn’t even decide what clothes to put on in the morning without her mother’s approval! She shoved her chair back from the table and marched to the edge of the patio, staring down at Topanga Canyon without really seeing it.

Lauren’s chair scraped over the stone floor as she got up and stormed after her. “No, you don’t. Even now when you’re spitting mad at me, you walk away and avoid any conflict instead of saying what you’re really thinking.”

Hands clenched into fists, Grace whirled around and found herself almost nose to nose with Lauren. Her perfume mingled with the canyon’s sage scent and teased Grace’s flared nostrils. The fine hairs on her arms prickled with the tension between them.

“You’re acting and pretending all the time. Why don’t you turn off the stage instructions in your head for once and show some real emotion?”

Blood roared through Grace’s ears. The urge to slap Lauren or do something, anything, to make her stop talking gripped her. “You want emotion?” she ground out through gritted teeth. “How about this?” She grabbed Lauren by the lapels of her leather blazer and roughly pulled her forward.

Their bodies collided; then Grace’s lips were on Lauren’s.

She’d meant for it to be hard, punishing, but at the touch of soft lips against hers, something ignited inside her. The kiss gentled. It lasted for only a couple of thudding heartbeats, not long enough for Lauren to push her away—or kiss her back.

Heat zinged through Grace. She pulled back with a gasp.

In the sudden silence between them, Lauren’s sharp intake of breath sounded overly loud. She reached up and touched her lips. Her fingers trembled. She stared at Grace with wide eyes, her pupils so large that only hazel rings remained of her irises.

Grace pressed her hand to her own mouth, where the kiss still seemed to sear through her. “Oh God. I’m so sorry. I didn’t…”

Lauren reached for her, but Grace quickly stumbled back, almost afraid of what would happen if she let Lauren touch her now.

“Grace, please. Talk to me.”

She roughly shook her head. “I can’t. Not now.” Her brain was on overload, and she struggled to form even one halfway clear thought. “Please. Can you…? I need some time alone.”

Still breathing heavily, Lauren searched her face or maybe searched for something to say. Finally, she just nodded. “Once you can talk about it, please call me.”

Her lips pressed together, Grace made a vague sound of agreement.

Lauren lifted one hand as if to touch Grace’s arm before seeming to change her mind and making it a short wave. Then she was gone. The sliding door clicked shut behind her.

Grace collapsed onto one of the patio chairs and let her head drop onto the red file folder Lauren had left behind.