Suddenly, everyone got quiet. There was only one star not there, and one last limo had just pulled up.
And then Jack opened his door.
Utter. And. Total. Pandemonium. Ensued.
Women cried. Women fainted. Women yelled. Women screamed.
Jack stood and took it all in.
He was my Jack, and he was their Jack. He was Hollywood’s Jack. He was a movie star.
He worked the red carpet with a mix of self-deprecation and cocky strut. He owned that freaking crowd. He was a natural because he was not a natural.
He took pictures with the cast and kept really close to Rebecca. These two were going through something so specific and stylized—I was glad they had each other. I was grateful to her for helping him. And I had a feeling he calmed her as well.
Eventually he made it inside. I watched him work the room, looking around. For me? For his dad? Before I had a chance to get to him, someone else found him.
Marcia.
She was beautiful in person. She was poured into a gorgeous black dress, and her legs may have been six feet in length. She was radiant, she was stunning, she was young.
I was feeling no pain.
I watched her make eye contact with him from across the room. It was like freaking West Side Story. His eyes lit up as he saw her. They walked through the crowd toward each other, and I was frozen to the spot, unable to tear my eyes away.
Just friends. Just friends. Just friends.
My Aunt Fannie.
You don’t even have an Aunt Fannie…
Shut it.
Have another cocktail, why don’t you?
Great idea.
I was kidding.
They hugged like old friends. Old friends who’d shared something profound.
He caught my eye over her shoulder, and I raised my glass and an eyebrow to him.
He flinched and actually had the decency to look a little embarrassed.
I saw him talking to her, and I saw her turn to meet my eyes. She smiled warmly, and I smiled back. What is the opposite of warmly?
Coldly.
Yeah, yeah. I like that.
This is going to end badly, isn’t it?
Saddle up.
Chapter 13
As Jack walked Marcia over to meet me, I set my empty glass down and tried hard not to fidget. But I was a fidgeter from way back. Even Jack had noticed it, and he knew when I was nervous.
Upon arrival, he immediately took my hand and squeezed it. “Don’t fidget, Crazy. You look beautiful,” he whispered.
I smiled at him and turned to Marcia. She was still smiling brightly at me.
“Marcia, this is Grace,” he said, and my heart actually stopped when I heard him say her name. At one point he’d probably said it the way he said mine.
“Grace, I’m so happy to finally meet you. He talks about you all the time,” she said, and leaned into kiss both my cheeks.
Ah, shit. I don’t want to like this bitch.
Jack smiled. He was enjoying this.
I kissed her back and smiled.
“Yes. I’ve heard a lot about you recently as well,” I said, and she blushed a little.
“I know. Can you believe the rumors that get started?” she said.
Jack smirked as if to say “I told you so.” I gave him a sharp look, and he just rolled his eyes.
“I need to talk to you,” I whispered in a low voice, trying to convey urgency. I needed to tell him what had happened with the photographer.
“Oh, I already know what you want to talk about. That was the topic of conversation on the carpet out there,” he whispered back, arching an eyebrow and staring down at me.
“I don’t know what happened. I was just trying to get inside and—” I started, then Marcia interrupted me.
“Your dress is beautiful. Where’d your stylist find it?” she asked.
“Oh, I, uh, I found it myself. Bergdorf’s. New York. No stylist,” I stammered. This child was freaking me out, and I hated that. I wished I had another drink.
“Oh, that’s right. How are you enjoying Manhattan? It’s a wonderful place to live, isn’t it? Are you planning to sell your house here?” she asked, locking eyes with me.
Hmmm. She knew an awful lot about my plans.
“I don’t know yet what I’m going to do. It all depends on what happens with the show, doesn’t it, Sweet Nuts?” I asked, leaning further into his arm as he wrapped it around my waist.
“Sweet Nuts?” she asked, wrinkling her nose.
“Private joke,” I said, kissing on Jack’s neck.
With radar as good as the military, Holly swooped in just at that moment and took Jack’s arm. “I need you for a few minutes before the film starts,” she said to Jack. “Come with me please? Ladies,” she said in parting, shooting me the hairy eyeball.
“Ladies, I’ll see you in there,” Jack echoed. “Grace, we’ll talk about this later. Don’t worry,” he said. He tried to lean to in to kiss me, but Holly Go-Cockblocker was right there.
“Please,” she said and pulled him away with a furious glance at me.
“I’m sorry,” I mouthed, then realized I was alone with Marcia.
“So,” I started, and she looked at me expectantly.
But the universe was kind and sent me an angel. I felt giant paw-like hands wrap around my waist and lift me into the air.
“I wondered if you’d make it back for this circus,” a sexy voice purred, and I turned to look into a pair of ice-blue eyes.
“Lane!” I cried and gave him a big hug.
“Fuck, you look hot, Grace,” he said, stepping back to give me the onceover.
“Thank you, dear. And you are always pretty.” I laughed.
Just then Lane noticed who I was standing with, and he choked back a laugh. “Well, this looks interesting. What’s the topic of conversation, girls?”
We laughed a little uncomfortably, and then Marcia spoke up. “You know, everyone expects we wouldn’t get along simply because of a media-created story, but I can tell I like you already, Grace.” She smiled warmly.
Again with the warmly.
And how the hell did all these twenty-somethings get so damn mature? When I was her age I was struggling with college math and trying to figure out how to buy a new Jeep Wrangler. They were like mini adults.
Lane burped.
Thank Christ. Now I smiled warmly.
“Marcia, I’m sure once we get to know each other we’ll get along just fine. Now I’m going to find my date—a gay man since I can’t be seen in public with my real boyfriend. I should leave before someone takes our picture and writes a story about you with an unidentified redhead,” I said with a wicked grin.
“Ah, good idea. It was wonderful to meet you, Grace. You’re just as pretty as he said you were.” With a smile and a graceful turn, Marcia walked back through the crowd. Not a hair out of place, not a wrinkle on her dress.
I really didn’t want to like her, but I knew I would.
“Lane, Lane, Lane.” I sighed and leaned back against him. I motioned to the bartender for another.
“We gettin’ shitty tonight, Sheridan?” he asked, winking devilishly at me.
“Lane, I’m a grown-ass woman with a mortgage and a huge Bergdorf’s bill. I don’t get ‘shitty.’ But I am getting knee-walkin’ drunk.” I lifted my glass toward him. “You in?”
“Shall we drink to your newly outed relationship?”
“How the hell do you know about that?” I asked, eyes going all buggy.
“That’s all anyone is talking about out there. Three reporters asked me if I knew about you, and how long Jack had been with the older redhead,” he said.
“Great. I went from unidentified redhead to older redhead.”