The Unidentified Redhead (1) Read online

Was he nervous?

  “Grace, are you serious? You can't be serious. Time?” She stopped short and looked at me incredulously.

  “What? Is this something I would know about?” I racked my brain trying to remember if I had heard anything about this movie, but was drawing a blank.

  “So, you have never read the short stories Time is based on? You really don't know anything about them?” she asked, still looking shocked

  “Hey, I've had a lot going on lately. I haven't had a lot of time to read much. Besides, you know I read mostly nonfiction,” I answered, looking back at Jack through the clear glass of the French doors.

  “It's a series of short stories that were written for a women's magazine. How the hell did you miss these?” she cried. She was still looking at me like she couldn't believe what I was telling her.

  “What are they about? Is that why Nick is so excited for this movie to come out?” I noted.

  “Grace, shut up and listen to me. These stories and this movie will have everything you have ever wanted: passion, love, adventure, sex, humor. Practically every woman I know is in love with them! The main character, Joshua, holy hell, girl. He's like a sexy scientist man, traveling through time and in each story he's in a different period. Joshua, hell, he is such a jackass, but an adorable jackass and from story to story he's with a different woman. This movie is going to be huge!” she squealed. She was getting very excited.

  “Hmm, I don't know. I'm not usually a romance fan. Too schmaltzy, ya know? Not really a fan of science fiction either. Not my thing. Gimme a good historical non-fiction, like, did you see there's a new book out about Lincoln? They now think that he—”

  “Oh, would you shut up about your historical nonfiction,” Holly interrupted. “Honestly, it's like you're sprinting towards the retirement home. And Time isn't romance, it's just…Gah, I can't describe it! That's why this movie is such a big deal, and why Jack is such a hot commodity right now. Jack is Joshua. Women are losing their minds across this entire country waiting for it to come out. Oh man, I can't wait for you to read them! You swear to me right now you'll read them!” she pleaded with me, her voice getting steadily higher. I had only ever seen her this worked up when Donnie Wahlberg was involved.

  “Jesus, fine. Calm down,” I said. “Did you just squeal? Yes, I will freaking read them,” I placated, noticing that Jack was coming towards us.

  “Jack, listen to this,” Holly started. “Grace hasn't read the Time short stories, she has never even heard of the movie!!” she called out as he walked onto the terrace, leaving the two girls giggling in his wake. He stared at me dramatically and then swept me into a close hug.

  “Run away with me,” he said quietly, pulling back to look at me, placing a hand on each side of my face. Holly laughed behind us. I chuckled nervously and then got control.

  “Are you asking random women to run away with you, Jack?” Holly asked, and he dropped his hands from my face, looking at me in mock adoration

  “Random? I meant it this time!” he said. “I told you, the next female I meet that hasn't heard of this silly little film I will run off with, have a tasty little tryst to satisfy the gossip magazines. How lucky am I that she seems normal?” he joked back.

  “I really wouldn't rush to judgment on that yet. You don't know how abnormal I am,” I stated, placing my hands on my hips.

  “I have to tell you, Jack, she's not right in the head,” Holly warned. “You don't want any of this. Believe me, I know. I've known Grace since college and she's insane,” Holly agreed, knocking back the last of her cocktail.

  “Wait, is this Grace, your best friend Grace? The one that leaves piles of Chex Mix around the house?” he asked, looking back and forth between us.

  “Yep, this is my Gracie. Now ask her why she leaves piles of Chex Mix around the house,” Holly teased while Jack looked at me questioningly.

  I gave her a look. “First of all, thanks for telling my tales all over town…ass. And to clarify, it is not piles all over the house. I happen to not care for the little Melba toasts, so whenever I eat Chex Mix, I set aside the toasts so that I don't have to eat them. That way, if anyone else wants them, they can have them,” I finished, showing Holly my middle finger.

  “I happen to love the Melba toasts,” he confessed, laughing at Holly's face when she realized that this seemed to make perfect sense to him.

  “Well, next time I have a pile, I'll save them for you. This way if you're ever in some kind of toast emergency…” I offered.

  “…I'll have some on standby. I feel good about this plan,” he continued. Holly shook her head at both of us. I noticed the two girls that Jack had been talking to inside coming out to join us on the terrace. They approached from both sides as Holly winked at Jack and began pulling me into the house.

  “I'll see you later, dear. Make sure you come and say goodbye to me before you leave,” Holly said over her shoulder as we walked back across the slate tiles.

  “Let me know when you're ready for that tryst,” I shot over my shoulder, winking at the girls who looked a little stunned. I couldn't resist.

  “You, me, Melba toasts.” He grinned back at me.

  “Since when do you invite groupies to your house?” I asked once we were inside.

  “Groupies? Oh, those two? Sweetie, the blonde is an entertainment lawyer and the brunette is a PR exec. But Brit Boy over there turns them all into giggling idiots.” She smiled knowingly as I looked back over my shoulder at the three of them on the terrace. Jack was standing between both of them as they jostled to get closer. He caught my eye and smiled that same sheepish grin.

  Wow, really, a lawyer…those stories must be damn good.

  About an hour later, with the party finally winding down, I was in the kitchen getting some crackers to begin sucking up the five dirty martinis I had sucked down. I was leaning on my elbows on the granite counter top, thinking about how my head was going to hurt tomorrow, when I heard someone come in.

  “Hello, again,” I heard a musical voice say.

  I looked up with my eyes, not even bothering to push myself back up off the counter where I was now half-laying. It was Jack… and the Giggle Girls were nowhere in sight.

  "Hello, yourself. Did you have a good time tonight?' I asked, before shoving a Saltine in my mouth.

  “Oh, no. Crackers…that's never a good sign. Too much?” he asked.

  “Maybe, if you consider three more than I usually have too much.” I grimaced, remembering the last time I was hung over. I was really not looking forward to tomorrow.

  “I find that the best cure for a hangover is to just keep drinking,” he said, smirking, and walked towards the other side of the counter, placing his hands on either side of me.

  “Yes, well that's because you're like seventeen and capable of shit like that,” I said. “I, on the other hand, will wake up tomorrow feeling like something died in my mouth, with my eyes puffed up like cabbages,” I said with a chuckle.

  “Wow, that's a really descriptive picture. I'm almost tempted to stick around and see that.” He laughed. “And I'm twenty-four, not seventeen, for future reference,” he added. I arched my eyebrow at him.

  Young pup. I used to be able to drink and dance all night, get one hour of sleep, and go to work the next day, still looking fabulous. Ah, to be young and foolish again.

  You're still foolish…

  I stretched my arms over my head and then back behind me, trying to work the kinks out. When I looked back at him, I realized that I had basically just thrust my chest in his face and he was letting his eyes linger.

  “Are you looking at my boobies?” I asked, doing a little shimmy shake. He froze, and then burst out laughing.

  “Yes, yes, I guess I am looking at your boobies. They're quite nice boobies,” he managed to choke out between laughs.

  “They are quite nice, that's true. And all mine. You probably don't get to touch a lot of real bona fide natural boobies here in L.A., but there's still a few of us ro
cking the real stuff.” I laughed along with him.

  “I also think you like men looking at your boobies. Why else did you put sparkles on them?” he stated, finally looking me in the eyes again, still chuckling.

  “Sparkles, what are you talking about?” I looked down at the girls and noticed that I did have a few sparkles on my cleavage. “Oh yeah, I guess I did. I put on a little shimmer body lotion before I got dressed tonight.”

  “Wow, girls sure do weird stuff. Especially you American girls. So much shimmer and sparkle. Who told you tits were supposed to sparkle? Sorry, boobies,” he corrected.

  “You can say tits, although I prefer boobies. I also like Ta-Ta's,” I said with a straight face.

  “How about love pillows?” he countered.

  “Breasticles?” I offered.

  “Uhhh, how about Flap Jacks?” he asked, struggling not to laugh.

  “Nice, but it doesn't hold a candle to sweater meat,” I managed to get out before laughing so loud I sprayed Saltines all over the counter. He joined me and I actually had tears streaming down my face as we started wiping up my cracker spittle. Holly walked in at that moment, took one look at us and started shaking her head.

  “Oh boy, what the hell is going on in here? Never mind. Jack, your ladies are looking for you. They are salivating all over the entry-way. It's time to take them back to your place. Grace, why are there cracker crumbs all over your cleavage?” she asked, staring at my Saltine encrusted chest.

  We both started laughing again as I extended my hand.

  “Jack, it was very nice to meet you. I hope next time I can contain myself a little more. Enjoy your threesome,” I said with a wicked smile. This guy was great and I was excited to have maybe made a new friend. He took my hand gently, but enthusiastically.

  “Grace, it has been interesting to say the least. And your sparkly boobies are beautiful. Enjoy your hangover.” He shook my hand and laughed again as he left the kitchen, giving Holly a kiss on the cheek as she walked him out.

  I watched him leave with his Blonde and his Brunette, thinking about how much fun this evening had turned out to be. Holly came back after showing the last of her guests to the door, took one look at the party fouls all over the place and said, “Clean this shit up in the morning?”

  “Or the afternoon?” I asked, holding my head.

  “Deal. Let's go to bed,” she answered, locking up as I turned out the lights. We trudged upstairs, discussing the evening as we made our way down the hall towards our rooms.

  “Holly, that was a great party. I'm really proud of you. You've done everything you set out to do and nothing has stopped you. You kind of rock.” I smiled at her and gave her a hug at her door.

  “Yeah, I have kicked some ass. Now go vomit, I know you want to,” she said, pointing me towards my room.

  “I really just do. 'Night, asshead,” I shot back over my shoulder as I went to collapse.

  “'Night, dillweed. Seriously, Grace. Five dirty martinis?” was the last thing I heard her say as I shut the door in her face and fell onto my bed.

  Right before slipped into sleep I thought about my sparkly boobies and laughed a little to myself.

  The_Unidentified_Redhead

  Chapter Three

  The morning brought hellfire and brimstone…and that was just what I threw up. When I first opened my eyes, which took several minutes of prying through mascara goo, I knew that this day was possibly going to be the worst day of my life. I never, repeat never, have more than two cocktails. I simply cannot handle it anymore. I would love to pretend that I could still hang with the younglings, knocking back cocktail after cocktail and feel no pain, but that was no longer me. I felt the pain…oh how I felt the pain.

  I attempted to get dressed, but gravity defeated me and I made my way out into the hall in an old button down Polo shirt, leaving my shorts on the floor of my bedroom where they had finally given up the fight. After repeated tries at balance, I made it down the hall, shorts-less, hugging the wall and then banister for support. I could smell coffee and like a beacon, I was drawn to it. I could hear Holly talking on the phone and I moaned at her damnable cheeriness. Holly never got a hangover…bitch.

  “Yes, right now you're scheduled to do MTV on the seventh and then you have an In Style photo shoot on the twelfth of that same month,” she said, smiling at me while I poured myself a cup of coffee, wrapping my hands around the mug and inhaling deeply. I might feel human again in about a day or so. I burped and thought, well, maybe a few days.

  “Listen, mister, do you have any idea how hard it was to sync up all the calendars for you guys? Half the cast is going to be there. You have to do the photo shoot on the twelfth. At least it's here in L.A. so there's no travel involved. Yes, I know this fall you'll have plenty of travel. Honestly, Jack, sometimes you sound like such a little bitch.” She laughed as she gestured to me to sit down.

  Knowing I was on borrowed time with my legs supporting me, I sank into one of the comfy armchairs in her breakfast nook. As I sipped at my coffee, I thought about meeting Jack the night before and smiled thinking of what the other side of this conversation must be sounding like.

  “She just woke up. Yes, she appears to be quite hung-over. Hold on, let me see,” she said looking carefully at me. “Jack is asking me to inspect your eyes to see if they look like…wait, what? To see if they look like cabbages?” She looked at me strangely.

  “Tell Hamilton I said to suck it,” I groaned, letting my head drop down to the arm of the chair, oddly pleased that he remembered our conversation with such clarity and surprised that I did as well.

  “She said, 'Suck it, Hamilton.' No, she really did say that,” she answered back as I laughed quietly to myself. “He wants to know exactly what he is to suck, Sheridan,” she responded, rolling her eyes.

  “Tell Hamilton that he has it exactly right, he is to suck Sheridan,” I yelled, making sure he could hear, but splitting my own head open in the process.

  “OK, that's enough of the telephone game. You guys can continue your last name foreplay another time. Jack, I'll speak to you later. What? Jesus, fine I'll ask her. Goodbye…I'm hanging up now.” She clicked her phone off and set it on the counter, looking at me carefully.

  “What? What are you looking at me like that for?” I asked, realizing that I was grinning from ear to ear.

  “You tell me. Why is he asking me about your sparkly boobies?” she asked, raising her eyebrow at me. I didn't answer as I lowered my head to my coffee mug, fighting to not smile wider.

  ***

  Holly took good care of me that day; she left me alone except to bring me Sprite and Saltines. I managed to control the crumb fall-out this time. I pretty much stayed on the couch. After a day of hangover hell, I must have fallen asleep, because when I woke up it was dark outside and Holly was gone. She had left me a note and a stack of magazines on the coffee table next to me.

  Lush,

  Here are the stories you promised you would read. I'm out for dinner with clients; I shouldn't be home too late. Call me if you need anything and clean yourself up. You look like shit.

  Love you,

  H

  Holly was right. I did look pretty sorry. I headed up to my bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth. I needed some energy, so I changed into my suit and grabbed a towel. As I walked back through the house, I saw the stack of magazines marked with Post-its on the table again, and after rereading her note, I picked up the one on top and thumbed through it to the first short story. I rolled my eyes at the fact that I was contemplating reading a romance story, which I usually avoided like the plague. Still, I took them with me out to the pool deck.

  I marveled once again at how beautiful Holly's house was. High up in the hills, it had great views from three sides. It was California modern, with an open floor plan and lots of natural light. It even had a sound system that worked throughout the house and on the patio. I plugged my iPod into it and selected my favorite play list of quiet time U2 s
ongs.

  The best part of the house was the infinity pool that had the nicest view of all: downtown L.A. She even had the requisite hot tub, which is where I ended up after swimming laps for about thirty minutes. I had gotten myself back into shape by doing many different things, one of which was swimming at least three times a week.

  I relaxed in the hot water, letting the jets massage away the last remnants of the alcohol and the way it had kicked my ass today. I took a sip from my water bottle and my gaze fell on the stack of magazines.

  Oh, what the hell. You promised.

  As I began to read, I remembered how insane Holly looked when she described her attachment to these stories. I had my trepidation, to say the least, not wanting to succumb to the madness that so clearly had her in its grip. Sexy scientist Joshua, huh? We'll see…

  I was really getting into it when I heard voices coming from inside the house. I glanced in and saw Holly and a tall, good-looking man walking towards the French doors, making their way outside to where I was. She was dressed in a black wrap around dress with gorgeous snakeskin sandals.

  Damn, she looks good. She must have had a date with that tall drink of water…wait, is that Jack?

  As they got closer and stepped out onto the patio, I realized this was not the same guy I met last night, and yet it was.

  This was not the scruffy Hollywood hipster I was bantering with in the kitchen, this was a very handsome man dressed in a dark gray suit and tie, clean shaven, with gorgeous shaggy blonde curls. The night before, he'd had that damn baseball cap on and I couldn't see the perfection that was his hair. I had a weakness for curly hair.

  Crap, hide the magazine. HIDE THE MAGAZINE!

  I quickly threw my shirt over the stack next to me, composing my face in what I hoped was a neutral expression.

  “Hey, Gracie. I see you're feeling better!” Holly called out as they closed the distance to the hot tub.

  “Much better. I took a swim and now I'm just relaxing,” I answered. I was at a disadvantage, sitting so much lower than them, when Jack squatted down, resting on his heels.