The Redhead Plays Her Hand Page 8

  He sighed and brought both hands up under his chin to rest. “Look, I know he can be a little direct—”

  “Direct? That’s a word for it.”

  “But he’s really a good guy. I like working with him. He knows the town; he knows the business. Just lighten up, okay?”

  I nodded and noticed Adam coming back to the table. This conversation needed to end. For now.

  “Sorry about that. I haven’t seen that guy since we wrapped Motion Sickness,” Adam explained, snapping, actually snapping, for the waitress. She would be getting a big fat tip from me tonight. And speaking of tip, Jack was ready to go. He’d gotten antsy all of a sudden, looking around the room, slouching lower in his chair.

  “Where? Who did you see?” I asked quietly, leaning back in my chair and making sure I wasn’t too close to Jack.

  This wasn’t exactly the kind of place we normally went to, but Adam picked the restaurant. It was high-profile, frequented by industry people and hangers-on alike; it was young Hollywood, and it was risky. Jack and I drove separately, and he came in through the back entrance. It was high-profile enough that it had a private entrance in the rear for celebrities to enter and exit discreetly. Which was the opposite of what this evening was becoming.

  “Four o’clock, camera phones. Those two women have been staring for the past few minutes. Plus that guy at the bar looks familiar. I’ve seen him recently,” he muttered, deliberately not looking at the location he just gave me.

  Turning nonchalantly in that direction, Adam took the opportunity to squint at the guy in question and pronounce him paparazzi.

  “How do you know he’s—” I started, and Adam just looked blandly at me.

  “I know, okay?” he replied, grinning in the direction of the guy.

  I’d had enough. “Listen, since it’s clear this is about to turn into something, I’m gonna cut it short and head out. Besides, Holly’s expecting me.”

  “You sure?” Jack asked, squeezing my knee under the table.

  “Yeah, it’s better this way anyway—if we don’t leave at the same time.”

  “We’ll be there soon. Don’t worry.” He nodded, giving me a final squeeze.

  “Adam, it was great. Are you coming to Holly’s?”

  Please say no, please say no, please say no.

  “Wouldn’t miss it.” He grinned.

  “Great,” I said through my teeth. Heading out quickly, I averted my eyes when walking by the guy in question at the bar, and I made sure to keep my head turned away from the camera phones. Now that I was gone, I had no doubt that those women would approach Jack and Adam. They were stars after all.

  I piled myself into my little car and sped up into the hills. No tan sedans in sight.

  Holly’s party was massive, much bigger than her last. Lanterns lined the driveway and laughter and music spilled out of every door and every window. Tiki torches dotted the patio, and the lights of Los Angeles spread out as the perfect backdrop. Floating candles lit up the pool, handsome waiters passed lovely noshy treats, and the bartenders rivaled those in Cocktail.

  This was pure industry, pure Hollywood. And Jack was at the center of it. Normally shy in crowds, the months of constant attention and media appearances had thickened his skin and made him a pro. He shone now when lit from the outside. I still saw the nervous here and there, the hand in the hair, the tapping of the shoe, but as he mingled with actors, producers, directors, writers, he was a movie star. But still a secret Golden Girls fan.

  He winked at me from across the patio as I sat in one of the comfy chairs with one of my favorite people on the planet, Nick.

  “So glad to see you. I missed you!” I cried, squeezing his hand as we sipped our dirty martinis.

  “I missed you too, of course, but you know I missed looking at your boy the most.”

  “Yes, I know this. I know my friendship with you is based solely on the ability to look at the pretty.” I laughed.

  “As long as we’re clear, we’re good!”

  We sipped and gossiped. I shared stories with him about the series, and he told me how much he was missing Los Angeles. As we chatted, I felt a pair of large, meaty hands wrap around my eyes from the back.

  “Lane!” I cried, turning to find Jack’s costar.

  “Hey, gorgeous!” He swept me up into a tight hug. Lane was a dear, a giant teddy bear who loved nothing more than to tease Jack about my sweet rack.

  “I was hoping to see you here tonight. How are things?” I asked as he set me down. Nick petted his biceps like a cat, and Lane slung an arm around his shoulders. Sighing into his dirty martini, Nick was a happy camper.

  “Things are good. Where’s that idiot boyfriend of yours?” Lane asked. I swiveled in my chair, tracking him through the crowd.

  “He’s over by the bar with Adam Kasen,” a voice piped up, and Rebecca joined the group.

  “Good night, nurse! It’s like a Christmas special. Where are all of you coming from?” I laughed as she sat down next to me and clinked her glass to mine.

  “I just snuck in, saw Jack over by the bar, and kept moving,” she replied, sipping from her cocktail.

  We all turned toward the bar and watched as Jack and Adam entertained the ladies who were clustered about. I knew better than to be jealous. We were solid now, and it wasn’t a concern. But as I watched, that same feeling that I had when we were at the restaurant came over me. Something just didn’t sit right when it came to Adam.

  “What do you know about Adam? Anything?” I asked Rebecca, leaning in. Which wasn’t hard, since she’d decided to share my chair.

  “That guy’s a dick,” she replied immediately, rolling her eyes.

  Shocker.

  “That’s kind of what I got too.”

  “Worked with him on my first movie. Slept with him once and never again.”

  “Wait, wait, wait, what? You slept with him?” I whisper-yelled.

  Lane and Nick were occupied with tales of how much Lane could bench-press.

  “Sure. Have you seen him? He’s gorgeous. And great in bed. But he’s a dick.”

  “I don’t like him.”

  “I don’t like that he’s hanging out with Jack.” She drained the rest of her drink.

  The crowd parted just enough that I caught Jack’s eye, and he grinned. That panty-dropping grin. He leaned over to Adam and then, like in a music video, he started across the patio toward me. Dressed in a red vintage concert tee, leather jacket, low-slung jeans, and my favorite blessed Doc Martens, he made my heart go pitter pat.

  Other parts are pittering and pattying as well . . .

  As he walked, eyes followed. It was like walking porn, and all the ladies and more than a few guys turned their heads to watch his progress. And he was just walking, for pity’s sake. But like a star, his gravity impacted everything around him.

  “Wow,” I heard Nick breathe. But I couldn’t see him. All I could see was my Sweet Nuts.

  Giving the guy handshake–half hug to Lane, he leaned down to press a hello kiss on Rebecca’s cheek. And then to stop the huffing, he did the same for Nick. Leading me by the hand out of my chair, he walked me to the opposite seat. Sitting down, he pulled me onto his lap, wrapped his arms around my waist, and claimed me without question. Eyes were still on us from every direction, and I pondered the timing of such a public display, but sometimes, a guy needed you on his lap. Who was I to argue with that? I scratched at the back of his head as he pressed a quick kiss on the side of my neck. I could see the women from the party giving me the evil eye, but for a moment, just one moment, I didn’t care.

  We all continued to talk, laughing and chatting into the night. I sighed at one point, unable to keep the contentment inside.

  “You seem happy,” Jack whispered, pushing a piece of curly hair behind my ear.

  “I am. It’s nice being out and about with our friends.” I leaned into his hand.

  “It’s nice to be able to snog my girlfriend in public for a change.” He looked m
e straight in the eye, licking at his lips.

  “Shouldn’t we behave? Don’t you think we’ve pushed it enough tonight?”

  “I haven’t pushed it at all.”

  “Where’s your hand, Jack?”

  “On your knee.”

  “In public. I’d say you’ve made your point. Why push it?”

  He tensed underneath me. “My point? You think I’m making a point?”

  “No, I think you’re hanging out at a party with your friends and your very cute girlfriend. And she’s sitting on your lap, looking all kinds of cozy. But the thing is, just by doing that? You’re making a point. Maybe not one you’re meaning to make, but a point just the same. So let’s just enjoy, and not push.” I slipped my hand back up and stroked the back of his neck. As I did, I casually looked around at the rest of the party. Camera phone—there it was. Did I stop? Did I continue?

  He must have felt me freeze, because he looked in the same direction I was, and we both saw the flash go off.

  “There, someone got it. Now can you kiss your boyfriend?” he demanded, looking back at me.

  His eyes had gone dark green, but not in the way I normally liked to see them.

  Swooping in like a bird of prey with the most fantastic timing ever, Holly appeared. “Grace, can you help me get some things brought out from the kitchen?” she asked, eyeing us.

  Sighing heavily, Jack helped me off his lap, and he and Lane headed back to the bar. Holly asked me all kinds of questions with her eyes. We clicked across the patio, smiling and interacting with other guests. Once we made it to the kitchen, however, she rounded on me.

  “Explain.”

  “Come on, not now. What did you need help with?”

  “Please, you think I need help in the kitchen? I hired help. I got you off the lap of the Sexiest Man Alive before he got you off in public.”

  I started to come back at her when I remembered how far over the line we’d been that night at the club. Touché.

  “Holly, look, I think you need to lay off a bit. He’s really starting to feel the pressure of all this.”

  “I appreciate that, but you agreed at the beginning of all of this that for Jack, and for you for that matter, you two would keep it quiet. Off the radar. Sitting on his lap at a party that half of Hollywood is at? Not so much off the radar.”

  “I know! Dammit, I know that! I know I’m the one who’s going to bear the brunt of this—the cracks about how old I am, the thousands of women online who will comment about how he can do so much better than me. I’m fucking aware, okay? But I am telling you, if you push him right now, not good,” I snapped, tears springing to my eyes.

  She backed off, poking at a crab cake on a platter.

  “I know you’re just doing your job. No one does it better. Truly. Jack loves you. But he’s feeling it.”

  “He needs to quit partying so much,” she said quietly, still crab poking.

  “He’s twenty-four, for Christ’s sake! May I remind you of what we did at that age?” I smiled, trying to break the tension.

  “No, you most certainly may not.”

  “Listen, I know he’s going a little crazy lately, but it’s under control, I promise. And yes, I will make sure that we keep at least five feet of distance between us the rest of the night.”

  “Okay, now you’re just being an asshole,” she replied, showing me her middle finger.

  “Let’s go back to your party,” I encouraged, taking her hand. As we started out for the patio, Michael appeared.

  “Holly, the bartender needs some more lemons. Didn’t we pick some up today after the movie?”

  “Yep they’re on the—”

  “Top shelf of the fridge, got it. Hey, Grace,” he said, patting my shoulder as he went past me into the kitchen.

  I looked back and forth between the two of them. “Wait a minute. Wait just a goddamn minute!”

  Holly’s face flushed deep red. “Let’s go back to the party, asshead,” she muttered, unable to contain her smile.

  Did not see that one coming . . .

  eight

  I didn’t have time to ponder this possible new development between Michael and Holly.

  Michael and Holly?

  I couldn’t focus on those two people because things had quickly gone from strange to swagger elsewhere at the party. I circled and mingled, chatted and schmoozed, staying within an across-the-room grin of Jack, but not too close. He seemed off tonight, and while he was glued at the hip with Adam, I was steering clear. Jack tended to get handsy when drinking, and after the earlier lap powwow, I knew to make sure to keep some distance until it was time to go home.

  This was new, a side to Jack I had no experience with.

  It’s not like you’ve known him all that long . . .

  True, but I knew Jack. Knew his head and his good heart, and this was not like him. It was, however, like—

  “Adam!” I heard my Brit bellow from across the patio. Shot glass in hand, Jack stood with Lane by the bar. Lane and he had been doing shots, but I noticed Lane had wisely switched to club soda a while ago. Lane’s eyes met mine across the party, and I raised an eyebrow. He looked at his watch, then gestured for the door.

  Message received. Time to go.

  I picked my way through the party, finding the straightest path to the bar, trying to get there before Adam did. As I closed, I could see Jack swaying slightly, and his eyes were puffy and bloodshot. Lane had an arm draped in a friendly way across his shoulders, but as I got closer, I could see Jack was leaning heavily into his side. Lane was having to hold him up. As Jack caught sight of me, a slow grin spread across his face.

  “There’s my girl. Where’ve you been?” he slurred, eyes droopy and unfocused.

  I exchanged a look with Lane and nodded.

  “Hey, Sweet Nuts, you ready to go? I’m kind of tired, and things are winding down.”

  The party was in full swing all around us.

  “Not yet, Grace. Adam and I were talking about heading over to this bar down on Sunset and checking it out. Let’s all go!” he shouted, slamming his glass down on the bar. He turned toward the driveway and Lane pulled him back, shaking his head.

  “Dude, not gonna happen. Let me take you home.”

  “No, Lane, it’s okay,” I said. “We drove separately. I can take him home. Come on, Jack, I want to leave. Come home with me?” I slipped my hand around him under his jacket, hugging him to me but also testing to see how steady he was. Wow, not very.

  “No, I don’t want to go home yet. Adam! Hey, Adam! These guys want to go home. You still want to head over to Sunset?”

  “Absolutely,” he said, sliding into our circle and smiling at me.

  “Absolutely not. We’re heading home. Can someone tell Holly we’re leaving?” I asked, glaring at him. I wasn’t even trying to hide how I felt about him anymore.

  “I think he can decide whether he wants to go out. Lighten up, Mom.” Adam chuckled.

  Okay. That’s it.

  “We’re done here. Lane, here are my keys. I’m parked not too far down the hill. Mind bringing it up for me? I don’t even want to wait for valet.”

  He jogged off and I was left wearing a Jack jacket. Lane had really been holding him up more than I thought.

  I tried to pull him over to a chair, but I couldn’t get him there.

  “Grace, I love you. I love you so much. You know that, right? Such a sexy girlfriend. Isn’t my girlfriend sexy?” he asked some guy standing near the bar. The guy raised his glass in salute. As I struggled to keep Jack upright while he laughed and pawed at me, I saw Michael near the pool and waved him over.

  “I need to get him out of here. Lane went to get my car. Can you help me get him out front without attracting a ton of attention?” I asked, turning my back on Adam. I could have asked him to help, but I’d sooner sit on an anthill.

  “Sure. Of course. What the hell, Jack?” He shook his head and smiled ruefully at him. With Jack between us, we made our way t
o the side entrance. Several people watched, but at that point I didn’t care. I wanted to get Jack home, get him sobered up, and then we were going to take this to the woodshed.

  “Don’t take the piss out, Mikey my man. Just having a bit of fun. That’s allowed, right? This is Hollywood, after all. We’re supposed to be sloshed and having a great time!” Jack yelled, planting a big kiss on my mouth at the end of his speech.

  Holding him up between the two of us, I laughed in spite of myself as we guided him through the gates and toward the street.

  Tan sedan.

  Tan sedan.

  Flashbulbs.

  Yelling.

  “Jack! Jack Hamilton!”

  “Jack! Over here? How was the party?”

  “Hey, it’s the redhead! Grace, right? Hey, Grace, look over here!”

  “Jack! Jack! Jack! How much did you have to drink tonight?”

  “Hey, Grace, did you get him that drunk?”

  “Hey, Adam? Where are you and Jack heading tonight?”

  I literally couldn’t see. I could make out images and silhouettes behind the cameras, I could tell the general direction they were yelling from, but I had no idea how many people were shouting at me. In between the shouts I could hear the clicking, the fast-speed lenses capturing everything. Jack piss drunk and hanging off me and Michael, and Adam somewhere behind us, probably smiling big.

  I froze. I froze and stood still, gaping like a fish at the cameras. I didn’t know what to do, move him forward, bring him back inside, hide him in my shoe? I panicked.

  Michael luckily still had his wits about him, and he herded us to the right, holding his hand up in front of Jack’s face. Now I could hear Lane calling us to where he had brought the car up, his voice rising above the loud photographers who were asking personal questions to try to get a reaction out of us. Holly had warned me before that paparazzi could and would ask rude questions to try and get a different shot. But knowing it and actually hearing it are two very different things.

  “Hey, Jack, your girl’s got a sweet ass!”

  “Grace, Grace! Over here, Grace! How big’s his dick?”