Bachelor Number Five (The Bachelor Series, Volume 1) (25 page)

“Now do you understand what I was talking about?  It’s amazing up here, isn’t it?” said Grant.

“It is.”

“Someday when I’ve really made it, I’m gonna buy a house up here.  I’m gonna have a hot tub, and a pool, and my bedroom is gonna have a big window so I can just lie in bed at night and look out at this.  We shot an episode at a house up here a couple weeks ago.  It was incredible.”

“Right.  You and Scarlett making out in the hot tub.”

“Hey, I was just giving them what they want.  You put a couple in a hot tub, with a view like this, people want to see them making out!”

“If I remember it right, I think you even grabbed her boob.”

“Hell yeah, I grabbed her boob!”  Grant laughed.  “You didn’t hear her complaining, did you?”

“No, she doesn’t seem like the type to complain about something like that.”

“What about you?”

“What about me?!”

“Are you the type to complain?”

An alarm bell went off in Amanda’s head.  She didn’t like the way this was going.  “Why?  Don’t tell me you’re planning to grab
my
boob!?”

“Oh, come on, you know I’m just teasing.”  Grant moved close and put an arm around her.  “I’ll just warm you up a little.  You don’t mind that, do you?”

Amanda couldn’t bring herself to answer.  This seemed to be moving awfully fast.  She thought back to that day, so long ago it seemed, that she saw Grant’s picture staring back at her from a tabloid magazine at the Quincy Market.  She thought of all the times she’d watched him on
The Bride
.  She remembered combing the city in search of clues, down at the beach in Santa Monica, at The Hamburger Hut and out at the clubs.  If someone had told her that she’d be parked in a car overlooking the city with Grant Hutchinson, it probably would have sounded like heaven.  Instead, as he leaned close and lightly kissed her neck, Amanda felt decidedly unsettled.  She’d wanted this for so long, and now that she had it, the whole thing just seemed wrong.  “I feel like I’m on the show,” Amanda said as she squirmed in her seat.

“Don’t worry, it’s just you and me.  No cameras here.”

“But you might get married in just two weeks?!”

“That was before.  Things are looking different to me now.”  Grant kissed her on the tip of the ear.  Grant Hutchinson…  How many times did she have to tell herself that?  Amanda turned her head to face him.  She was going to see, if for curiosity’s sake alone, what it felt like to lose herself in desire.  As Grant kissed her next on the lips, she felt his tongue softly caress her own.  She felt his hand slide along her thigh, across her waist and then up, until he really was holding one of her breasts.

Amanda pulled herself back.  “So you’d give up a half million dollars, just for me?”

“Come on, baby, I haven’t even won it yet!”  Grant leaned forward to kiss her again.  His hand moved back down, onto her thigh again and then between her legs.

“Ok, look, I think this is going a little bit too fast for me,” Amanda pulled back again, grabbing his wrist to move his arm away.

“What’s the problem?” Grant complained.

“I’m not this kind of girl.  That’s the problem.”

“You came all the way up here with me, what the hell did you expect?!”  Grant sounded like a petulant child, lashing out at Amanda for daring to deny him.

“Not this,” Amanda answered.

“Forget your boyfriend!  He’s not here!  It’s just you and me, baby!”  Grant leaned in, trying again to sloppily kiss her as she leaned away.

“Don’t!  I said stop!”  Amanda pressed herself against the passenger door but it was no use.  She couldn’t get far enough away.  Grant grabbed her with both arms and pulled her forward.  He reached under her shirt and grasped at the front of her jeans, trying to undo her top button with his fingers.  Amanda looked down in terror.  “What are you doing?!”

“You know you want it, baby, just relax.”

“Let me go!”

Grant used both hands to pop the button open.  He slid her zipper down until it caught halfway.

“Stop it!” Amanda yelled.

“Don’t make this hard on yourself,” said Grant.  He reached next to unbutton his own pants, rising to his knees on his seat to pull them down.  Amanda wasted no time.  She swung an arm between his legs and grasped his balls tightly in her hand, squeezing them as hard as she could.  “Owww!” Grant screamed in pain, pushing her away.  “Damn it!  What the hell?!”

Free from his clutches, Amanda let go and opened the passenger door.  She jumped out as quickly as she could and took two steps backwards.  When she’d fastened her pants, she ran off across the turnout and headed down the road.  Behind her she heard the car engine roar to life.  Amanda turned to see the red convertible bearing down on her.  Was he going to run her over?  Was he going to kill her, right here on the darkened road, hovering above the twinkling lights of ten million people who were oblivious to it all?  She had just enough time to register the irony of it all.  She’d thought he’d be the love of her life.  She’d never dreamed he might take it.

At the last moment, the car swerved to Amanda’s left, the bumper just missing her legs.  Grant slammed on the breaks, screeching to a halt beside her.  The window rolled down.  “You’re a real bitch, you know that?” he said.

Amanda didn’t answer.  She couldn’t.  She was completely speechless.  Behind her was a guardrail and on the other side of that, a straight drop down a steep, rocky hill.  Nowhere to run.  Nowhere to hide.  Grant picked up her purse from the car seat and threw it at her out the window where it hit Amanda in the chest and dropped to the ground.  The car window rolled back up and Grant hit the gas, tires squealing as the Mustang shot off down the road.

Her whole body was shaking as Amanda reached down to pick up her purse.  A few other cars flew past, their headlights briefly illuminating the scene before leaving Amanda in the dark.  She thought about waving a hand in the air to flag someone down, but who might stop?  A stranger.  Someone else completely unknown.  No, Amanda couldn’t do that.  Instead she reached into her purse and pulled out her phone.  Who could she call?  Peter, of course.  She wanted nothing more than to be held tightly in his comforting arms.  Peter would make everything all better again.  Yet what could she say to him?  How could she explain this away?  It was bad enough already without having to explain herself.  In the end it wasn’t Peter who she chose to call.  Amanda turned on her phone and dialed Lauren’s number instead.

“What’s up, roomie?”  Lauren actually sounded chipper.

“I’m in a bit of trouble.”  Amanda’s voice wavered.

“What’s wrong?”

“Can you come pick me up?  I’m on Mulholland Drive, up above the Hollywood Bowl.”

“What the hell are you doing up there?  Are you all right?”

“Just come get me, please?!”

Lauren seemed to grasp the gravity of the situation.  “Sure, hold tight.  I’ll be there as fast as I can.”

“Thanks, Lauren.”  Amanda hung up the phone as another car whizzed past, nearly clipping her as it went.  She kept close to the roadside as she made her way back to the turnout and then walked across the dirt and sat, perched precariously on the guardrail, shivering in the night.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

“Do we need to go to the police?”  Lauren sounded worried.

“No.  Just take me home.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

Lauren drove down the hill and past the entrance to the Hollywood Bowl.  “Won’t you tell me what happened?” she pressed.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” said Amanda.

“You weren’t up there with Peter, were you?”

“It wasn’t Peter.”

“But it was someone else?”

Amanda didn’t answer.  She was lost in thoughts of her own.  The dream she’d carried with her for the past four months was completely destroyed.  The fantasy that she’d judged her life by was just that; pure fantasy.  Amanda had spent all of this time considering herself a failure, all because she didn’t have a man like Bachelor Number Five in her life.  Now she knew the truth.  The ideal she’d been chasing was an illusion.  Worse yet, what must Peter think of her?  What could she possibly say to him?  Certainly not that she’d gone off to “make-out point” with her surfer boy crush.  Not that she’d been sexually assaulted.  Amanda felt a deep sense of shame.  It wasn’t her fault.  She knew that, in theory, but the guilt weighed heavily upon her.  She couldn’t face Peter.  Not just now.  Amanda shuddered as the events of the evening played through her mind once more.  She didn’t want to think of Grant Hutchinson ever again.  She wanted to forget that he even existed.

When they got back home, Lauren parked in her space in back and the two of them walked around and up the stairs in silence.  The light was on in Peter’s apartment but Amanda kept her head down as she followed Lauren on into their own.  Once safely inside, Amanda went straight into her room and closed the door behind her.  She opened her desk drawer and pulled out Grant’s picture.  Holding it over her waste basket, Amanda tore it up into the smallest pieces that she could, letting the confetti fall into the bin below.  If she’d had a match, she would have burned it.  Instead, she flopped down on her bed and buried her head in her pillow.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

It was familiar territory for Amanda, avoiding any contact with Peter.  He was making it as easy as he could.  No calls, no texts, no knocks on the door.  Amanda didn’t expect anything different.  She’d blown off his last message.  She’d stood him up for dinner.  It was supposed to be their first official date, yet she’d stayed locked in her room, refusing to come out.  He must have assumed that she’d chosen Bachelor Boy over him.  How wrong
that
was.  Only Amanda could set the record straight, though she still felt too ashamed.  A little bit of effort on Peter’s part would have been nice in any case.  In fact she craved it, yet she still couldn’t face any questions about what had happened.  Not from Peter, or anyone else in the building for that matter.

Three days after the “incident,” Amanda worked another lunch shift, worrying the whole time that Grant might show up.  Fortunately her shift went smoothly, with no surprises.  Back home, showered and clean, she stood staring into the refrigerator trying to decide what to prepare.

“It’s alive,” said Lauren, walking up from behind.

“Hey.”  Amanda looked up.

“I’ve hardly seen you lately.”

“Yeah.”  Amanda turned back into the fridge.  “I’ve been a little under the weather.”

“Nothing contagious I hope.”

“I don’t think so.”

“I’m sorry.  I hope you feel better.”

Amanda lifted a half-empty jar of spaghetti sauce and examined the contents.  Along with a block of parmesan, it would do.  She took them both out and placed them on the counter, then took down a box of pasta from a shelf.  She filled a large pot with water and put it on the stove, turning up the heat.

“How was work?”  Lauren continued.

“Fine.”

“Anyone famous?”

“No.”

As Amanda waited for her water to boil, Lauren opened the freezer and thumbed through her frozen dinner selections, pulling one of them out.  She opened the box, cut a few slits in the cellophane with a kitchen knife and put the dinner into the microwave oven.  “My glamorous life,” Lauren said as she punched in the time and hit the start button.  Next she took down a glass and filled it with water before sitting at the kitchen table.

When Amanda’s pot of water was boiling, she added the spaghetti noodles and gave them a stir.  She put the sauce in a smaller pot and turned the heat to low.  Lauren watched her with curiosity.  “You know…” she started to say something, but then seemed to think better of it.

“Hmm?” said Amanda.

Lauren crossed her arms and tilted her head to one side.  “I saw Peter a little while ago.”

Amanda did her best to hide her emotions, though hearing his name made her pulse quicken.

“He asked about you,” Lauren added.

“What did you say?!”

“Nothing.”

“You didn’t mention what happened the other night?”

“Of course not.”

“What did
he
say?”

“He wanted to know how you were, that’s all.”

The microwave beeped and Lauren stood to retrieve her dinner.  She peeled the cellophane off the plastic container before dumping the food onto a plate.  After taking some silverware from the drawer she sat back down to eat.  “He seemed sad to me though.”

“How so?”  Amanda stirred her sauce as it started to bubble.

“I don’t know.  Normally he’s so cocky and full of himself.  This time he seemed to be sincerely concerned.”

“You’re sure you didn’t say anything?!  Not to anybody else either?”  Amanda was suspicious.

“I swear!  I don’t even know what I would say!  You hardly told me anything!”

“I thought you’d be happy that I wasn’t spending time with Peter anymore.”