Damage Control (The Hollywood Series Book 2) (28 page)

The corporate jet’s second flight attendant, a young man, was really getting on Lauren’s nerves. After serving their dinner and then collecting the empty trays, he had returned twice to ask if they—or rather Grace—needed anything else. Now he was heading in their direction a third time. Predictably, he stopped next to Lauren’s aisle seat. “Is there anything else I can do for you?” He looked right past Lauren, talking only to Grace.

“Thanks, we’re fine,” Lauren answered for her.

“Don’t hesitate to let me know if you need anything.” After smiling at Grace again, he walked away.

“What was that?” Grace asked with an amused grin.

Lauren watched the flight attendant’s retreating back. “Nothing. After I had to suffer through Russ’s lines, his flirting was just getting on my nerves.”

“Flirting? He wasn’t flirting. He was just being friendly.”

Was she serious? Judging from Grace’s expression, she really meant what she said. Lauren started laughing. “Oh my God!”

“What?”

“You’re not just missing a functioning gaydar; you also have no flirtdar whatsoever.”

“You!” Grace reached across the armrest and pinched Lauren’s leg.

Lauren rubbed the affected body part. The pinch had barely hurt, but now her leg tingled from Grace’s casual touch. “Ouch. Hey, careful. You wouldn’t want headlines about Grace Durand being kicked off the airplane for abusing her publicist, would you?”

An unladylike snort escaped Grace.

Her mother looked over from the couch and regarded them with a disapproving frown.

Like two kids being caught giggling at the back of the classroom, they stopped laughing and settled down.

“I think I’d better get some work done before you get me into trouble,” Lauren whispered and took her laptop back out.

“Me? Getting you into trouble?” Grace whispered back. This time, she reached beneath the armrest, where her mother couldn’t see it, and pinched Lauren’s thigh again.

Lauren nearly dropped the laptop. “See?” She started to review the schedule of the upcoming days, and her smile slowly died away. It was grueling. Back-to-back interviews all day, then the premiere and the after-party, only to fly to the next city and do it all again the next morning. It was part of what actors did for a living, but she couldn’t help worrying about Grace.
And about Jill, of course.

She opened her e-mail and replied to the most urgent messages until the lights in the plane dimmed.

“Don’t you want to sleep a little too?” Grace asked.

“In a moment,” Lauren said and continued to work.

Grace lifted her head from the pillow the flirty flight attendant had brought her. “You know if you keep working, you’ll keep me awake with your coughing.”

Lauren knew when she was beat. Sighing, she stowed her laptop under the seat and obediently closed her eyes. She wouldn’t be able to sleep, but she would rest her eyes for a moment or two. Once Grace had fallen asleep, she would get the laptop back out and continue to work. That was her last thought before the drone of the engines lulled her to sleep.

Grace couldn’t sleep. The anticipation of what the next few days would bring was keeping her up. The premiere in London would be the first time
Ava’s Heart
would be shown in full length to journalists and film critics. The reviews and articles they wrote after attending the premiere would set the tone for how the movie would be received by the public. If they didn’t like
Ava’s Heart
…

She jumped, startled out of her thoughts when something softly hit her shoulder.

When she opened her eyes and carefully turned her head, she had to smile.

Lauren’s head was resting against her shoulder. Even with the generous legroom in the luxurious jet, her tall body was crammed into a position that couldn’t be comfortable. The armrest between them had to dig into her ribs.

Slowly, Grace moved back a little, creating some space between them so she could flip up the armrest.

Lauren mumbled a protest. As soon as the armrest between them was gone, she turned more toward Grace and cuddled closer. One of her hands came to rest on Grace’s leg.

Grace tensed for a moment. Her gaze darted to the people around them. Had anyone seen? Then she relaxed. Everyone around them, including her mother, was either asleep or absorbed in their laptops or other digital devices. The two publicists across from them were snoring softly. With one hand, Grace reached for the blue blanket the flight attendant had given her and covered Lauren with it best as she could while serving as her pillow.

Lauren continued to sleep, which told Grace just how exhausted she had to be. During the past weeks, Lauren had worked almost nonstop to help organize the press junkets in Europe. Even in the dim light of the plane’s cabin, Grace could see the dark smudges under her eyes.

A wave of protectiveness swept over her. She tugged the blanket more tightly around Lauren and nearly reached out to smooth back a strand of hair that had fallen onto Lauren’s face but stopped herself at the last moment.

Someone passed them on the way to the lavatory, and Grace quickly pulled the blanket more toward herself, covering Lauren’s hand, which still rested on her thigh. She didn’t want to give anyone the wrong idea, but neither did she want to wake Lauren by removing her hand. Besides, she had to admit that the touch felt good, grounding her, letting her know that whatever came in the next few days, she wouldn’t have to face it alone.

She sat watching Lauren sleep until she became almost cross-eyed. Finally, she let her tired eyes drift shut.

Lauren drifted in that pleasant state between sleep and wakefulness, content to just lie like this forever. She snuggled her cheek more deeply into the warm, soft material, breathing in the tantalizing mix of scents—perfume, lotion, and something that was just—

Grace!
Her eyes popped open. From less than an inch away, she stared at Grace’s light blue blouse…which was darker in one spot.
Oh, shit.
Not only had she fallen asleep on her—literally—she had also drooled on her. They were cuddled together under one blanket, their legs resting against each other along their lengths, the armrest between them gone. When she slowly lifted her head, she realized that this wasn’t the worst of it. Her hand had settled into a comfy spot on Grace’s thigh.
Christ. I practically groped her in my sleep.
She could only hope that Grace had slept through it.

Careful not to wake her, she pulled her hand away and retreated to her side with a vague feeling of loss.

And not a second too soon. As the flight attendant went down the aisle, asking for breakfast orders, people around them started to wake up and look around.

Lauren blew out a breath. If Grace’s mother had caught them in this position, Lauren would have lost her job—or at least her hand.

The scent of coffee drifting through the cabin seemed to rouse Grace. Her nose twitched, and then she blinked her eyes open and sat up. With rumpled clothes, tangled hair, and her face lined from the small pillow, she was more beautiful than anyone who’d slept in her clothes could possibly be.

Mesmerized, Lauren stared at her.

Grace wiped her chin. “Did I drool in my sleep?”

Heat crept into Lauren’s cheeks. “Uh, no.”
But I did.
The spots on Grace’s blouse hadn’t yet dried.

“Did you sleep well?” Grace asked.

Which meant that she’d fallen asleep before Grace had. But if Grace had noticed her cuddling up, she didn’t seem to mind. “Actually, yes.” Amazing. Despite the awkward position she’d slept in, she felt refreshed.

“Could you let me through? I want to freshen up before breakfast.” Grace tried to disentangle her hair with her fingers. “I must look horrible. Glad the paparazzi aren’t here. A picture of this would go viral as the worst hair ever.”

Lauren almost told her how beautiful she was but then bit her tongue and just said, “Sure.” She stepped out into the aisle, and Grace squeezed past her, their bodies brushing in the tight space.

Once Grace was gone, Lauren dropped back into her seat. She felt like ordering an ice-cold drink for breakfast but knew it wouldn’t help. She’d just have to be a professional and ignore this damn attraction.

CHAPTER 20

Their wing of the five-star hotel in Mayfair, London, was bustling with journalists and entertainment reporters, who went from room to room, interviewing the stars and creators of the movie.

Lauren had been going back and forth between Grace’s room and Jill’s, making sure that the interviews didn’t veer into areas she didn’t want them to. When she quietly slipped back into Grace’s room, the actress was in the middle of her tenth five-minute interview.

“What was it like to play a farmer from Texas?” the reporter asked.

“Actually,” Grace said with a kind smile, “Ava—the farmer I played—is from Georgia. It was fun to slip into the skin of someone whose life is so different from mine. Getting her accent right wasn’t easy, though. I went through weeks of dialogue training before we started shooting.”

Lauren leaned against the back wall and watched her. Press junkets could be hell for actors. They were supposed to express their enthusiasm for the movie, even if the reporters asked idiotic questions or were horribly ill prepared, and to keep each interview fresh and fun, even though they were getting tired of answering the same old questions time and again.

“Your character finds love again after a personal tragedy, right?”

Grace nodded. “Yes. That’s what I love most about the movie. It has such a positive message about not giving up on life and on love.”

“What about your own life?” the reporter asked. “There were some rumors earlier this year that—”

Lauren pushed away from the wall. “Sorry,” she said loudly. “It’s time to wrap up the interview. We’re running late for the next one.”

The reporter grumbled but finally moved out.

“Here.” Lauren handed Grace a fresh bottle of water.

“Thanks. And thanks for stepping in. Christ, did you hear that?” Grace groaned and rotated her shoulders to loosen them. “He thought the movie was about some woman from Texas. The questions are getting worse with each interviewer.”

Lauren was tempted to reach over and massage Grace’s shoulders for her but stayed where she was. Bad enough that she’d cuddled up to Grace on the plane. Here, at the press junket, she had to be on her most professional behavior. “Just one more, then you’re done for the day. At least with the interviews.”

“Print or television?”

“A reporter from a national LGBT magazine. Her name is Chloe Davies,” Lauren said.

Grace gave her a questioning look. “Why would an LGBT magazine be interested in a heterosexual love story?”

“I think they’re less interested in the story than in Jill’s recent coming out,” Lauren said just as a knock on the door announced the journalist’s arrival. “Ready?”

“Bring her on.” Grace slid a little to the side so she wouldn’t block the movie poster behind her.

Lauren greeted the reporter with a handshake, her gaydar pinging loudly. “Come on in. Ms. Durand is ready for you.”

Chloe Davies introduced herself, shook Grace’s hand, lingering a moment too long for Lauren’s taste, and then settled onto a chair across from her. “Congratulations on the new movie.”

“Thank you,” Grace said.

“So, what was your favorite scene?”

“Oh, that’s like asking a mother about her favorite child. I like them all.”

“But if you had to choose, say because a reporter is asking you?” The journalist gave her a charming grin.

Grace returned the smile. “Then I’d probably say the scene toward the end, when Ava is standing in the middle of the field, with rain pouring down on her, and she finally decides to give this new love a chance.”

Ms. Davies pointed to one of the movie posters behind Grace. “I saw that scene. It’s a good one—and, if you allow me to say so, you look hot in that rain-drenched dress.”

Grace threw her head back and laughed, taking the compliment in stride, as if she were complimented by lesbians every day. “Thanks. And please tell your editors they’re not allowed to take this out.”

They both laughed.

“Are you aware that you have a large lesbian following in the UK?”

“I do?”

The reporter nodded.

“I had no idea, but I’m happy to have anyone as a fan, gay or straight,” Grace said. “It’s good to know my movies appeal to a wide audience.”

“Are you ever going to do a lesbian movie?”

If Lauren hadn’t known Grace’s body language so well by now, she would have missed the slight increase of tension in her shoulders.

“I don’t yet know what movies I’ll do next,” she said. “But I actually just finished shooting an episode of
Central Precinct
, an American TV show with a fantastic lesbian storyline.”

“Do you feel more pressure to pick only certain roles at this point in your career?” Chloe Davies asked.

Grace’s shoulders stiffened a little more, but her smile never wavered.

Lauren kept an eye on her watch, preparing to step in the second the five minutes were up.

“Well,” Grace said, “I want to do a good job in each of my movies, no matter what role I play. That hasn’t changed. Luckily,
Ava’s Heart
made it easy. The writing was stellar, and we had a very talented cast.”

Well done.
Lauren breathed a sigh of relief as Grace adroitly brought the topic back to her current movie, away from the more dangerous subjects. The time was up shortly after, and Lauren escorted the reporter out. “Well done,” she said after she’d closed the door. “You’re very good at this.”

“I should be,” Grace said with a tired smile. “I’ve been doing this for a quarter of a century.”

“That makes you sound really old.”

Groaning, Grace powered herself up from the chair. “Not as old as I feel.”

Lauren lightly placed one hand on the small of Grace’s back and guided her to the door. “Come on, old woman. Let’s get changed for the premiere.”

London didn’t live up to its reputation as a rainy city at all. Sunshine filtered through the limo’s windshield as the driver navigated the busy streets toward Leicester Square.

Despite the gorgeous weather outside, Lauren grew tenser with every second, not just because of the premiere but also because Mrs. Duvenbeck kept tugging on her daughter’s dress and fussing over her hair and makeup.
If she starts licking a tissue, I’m out of here.

It wasn’t as if Grace needed any more help to make her look beautiful. In a backless burgundy dress, her golden-blonde hair falling in soft waves onto her shoulders, she took Lauren’s breath away.

Grace didn’t react to her mother’s fussing. Either she had long ago gotten used to it, or she was too focused on her own thoughts to notice.

When the limo came to a stop, Lauren peered through the tinted window at the crowd outside. There had to be thousands of people lining the wide red carpet. Behind them, the Odeon cinema towered over the square, its neon-blue lights reflecting off the black, polished façade.

One of the security guards approached the limo.

“Ready, ladies?” Lauren looked from Jill to Grace. She caught Grace’s eye and for a second saw a hint of the nervousness that Grace hid so well.

Grace gave her a nod and unbuckled her seat belt. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

The security guard outside pulled the door open.

Pools of spotlights hit them as Grace climbed out, followed by her mother and Jill. Lauren got out after them.

“Smile,” Mrs. Duvenbeck said every few steps, as if Grace needed the reminder.

Lauren wanted to whack her over the head with the nearest object.

Camera flashes went off as Russ joined them, and the three Hollywood stars posed for the photographers. Fans screamed and waved, some of them holding up banners or movie posters. Once again, Lauren marveled at the craziness of the business they were in.

Grace and her colleagues approached the waist-high metal barriers that had been set up along the edge of the red carpet. Fans leaned across the barricades, holding out autograph books and cards. They signed autographs and posed with some of the fans so they could snap pictures, until one of the organizers—a woman with a clipboard—signaled them to move to the next section of the red-carpet course.

A girl of about twelve or thirteen sat in a wheelchair, which had been placed off to the side. She stared up at Grace with wide eyes. A man who was probably her father waited next to her.

“This is Emily,” the woman with the clipboard said. “She’s here through the Make-A-Wish Foundation because she wanted to meet you, Ms. Durand.”

Grace waved at the TV crew following her around, asking them to stay back. She stepped up to the girl and pulled up her dress a little so she could go down on one knee to be at eye level with her, ignoring what it might do to her dress.

Lauren watched them with a big lump in her throat.

After a while, the woman with the clipboard tapped her wristwatch, signaling that it was time to move on. The entire red-carpet event was planned out down to the last second, with nothing left to chance.

“Give them a minute,” Lauren said, knowing that every second with Grace would mean the world to Emily.

Grace hugged the girl and whispered something in her ear that made Emily beam. When she got back up, her eyes were damp.

Two men removed a section of the metal barriers.

After an encouraging nod from Grace, Emily maneuvered her motorized wheelchair onto the red carpet. Grace joined her, walking next to her and letting her experience how it felt to be treated like a Hollywood star, complete with having your picture taken and fans screaming.

When clipboard woman pointed over to the press area, indicating that they needed to go, Grace squeezed the girl’s shoulder and smiled down at her. “I have to go, but I’ll see you inside later.”

Emily nodded eagerly.

Grace joined the rest of the group. She clutched Lauren’s arm. “She’s just twelve and in a wheelchair already,” she whispered to Lauren. “Do you know how meaningless and stupid all of this,” she indicated the red carpet and the paparazzi surrounding it, “feels compared to what that girl is going through?”

“I know,” Lauren murmured. She wanted to pull Grace into her arms and hold her but knew she couldn’t, especially with all the paparazzi around.

“Well, at least she’s not giving up on her dream.” Grace turned toward Jill and made eye contact with her. “She wants to be an actress one day.”

The group was silent as clipboard woman ushered them over to the press area. Even Mrs. Duvenbeck stopped telling Grace to smile.

Jill and Grace posed for more pictures and were interviewed by a camera team. They answered all the usual questions about the movie and their choice of dresses with aplomb.

Just when Lauren was beginning to think they had made it through the press gauntlet, the reporter asked, “I notice you’re here with your mother, Ms. Durand. Why isn’t Nick escorting you today?”

Damn.
Of course the media had noticed Grace’s lack of male escort.

“He would have loved to be here, but he’s busy crashing cars and blowing things up,” Grace said, garnering a few laughs. “Seriously, he’s in the middle of shooting his own movie, but he’ll join us for the premiere in Los Angeles.”

Then Russ moved up behind them and posed for more photographs with his co-stars before they finally made their way inside.

This was it—the moment of truth. In about one hundred and twenty minutes, she’d get her first real feedback about the movie that might make or break her career after her last one had tanked at the box office. Not that she’d get an honest opinion from most of the people crowding the theater’s foyer. They would just put on their Hollywood smiles and tell her what they thought she wanted to hear, no matter whether they’d really liked the movie and her performance.

Not Lauren, though. She knew she could count on Lauren to give her honest feedback. In search of her publicist, she looked around the crowded lobby. It wasn’t hard to find Lauren. In her black pantsuit, she stuck out of the mass of dress-wearing women and men in tuxedos. She stood holding a glass of champagne but didn’t drink from it while she chatted with two British actresses.

The ushers started showing everyone to their seats, and Grace realized with disappointment that Lauren wouldn’t sit anywhere near her. She would have liked to see her reaction while the movie played on the big screen.

Jill appeared at her elbow. “Are you okay? This is your big night, so why are you frowning?”

“It’s nothing,” Grace said, not sure how to explain what had been going through her mind. “I’m just beat.”

“Oh, God, me too. Do you think anyone will notice if we sleep through the movie?”

Grace chuckled. “Probably. Come on. Let’s take our seats. The ushers are getting antsy.” With a quick glance back at Lauren, she led Jill toward the front and took her seat between her mother and Jill.