Lovestruck in Los Angeles (15 page)

“I think that can be arranged.”

I let my eyes flicker down his figure in the suit. “And I want to dance with you. A lot.”

“That can
definitely
be arranged.”

I gave Sofie a loud wolf whistle when we entered the sitting room. She was dressed in a hot pink, tight slip dress with tiny little spaghetti straps. “I can see you’re enjoying being thousands of miles from your parents and your cousins,” I said.

She spun around for me. “Your brother once made me put on his suit jacket at a school dance because he thought my dress was too low cut. You better believe I am going to go all out tonight and enjoy being Medina-family free.”

“You’re not free from all of the Medinas,” I reminded her. “But this one thinks you look hot.”

Thomas had arranged for a black cab to pick us up, and the three of us crowded into the back. “So who’s going to be at this party?” I asked, huddling against Thomas. My only evening coat was way too thin for this kind of cold, and my legs were totally bare. He wrapped an arm around me, and I did the same for Sofie so she wouldn’t shiver either.

“I think it’s mostly Meghan’s crowd,” he said. “People she knows from work and school.”

“Meghan is a super fancy banking something or other in the City,” I explained to Sofie. “She wears thousand pound suits to work and makes the boys cry.”

“I can hardly wait to meet her,” Sof said, eyes wide.

“She’s awesome. You’ll like her. And her boyfriend Carter is pretty nice eye candy.”

“Hey,” Thomas said, but we ignored him.

“And Sarra is Charlie’s sister. She’s, like, the opposite of Meghan. She works for a history museum and spends half her life in mismatched socks.”

“Often in mismatched shoes, as well,” Thomas said.

“But she’s really cool, too. And Callie and Charlie will be there, of course.” I looked at Thomas. Meghan had encouraged us to invite whomever we liked. “Anyone else we know?”

He shook his head. “That ought to be about it, far as I know.”

“You didn’t invite any movie people?”

He shook his head empathetically. “Absolutely not. I’m doing nothing movie related until we touch down in L.A.”

I frowned at the thought. It was ridiculous, how much I was coming to almost dread going back. I got to live in the closest thing I’d ever see to a palace, for God’s sake. On the beach. And work within shouting distance of my own bedroom. What on earth did I have to complain about?

I looked out the window at Piccadilly Circus as the cab made it’s slow way through the traffic of the city.
Malibu’s not home
, I realized, feeling sad all of a sudden.
No matter how beautiful it is, no matter how friendly the people are, it’s just not home.

Thomas squeezed my shoulder gently, and I shook my head, trying to clear it. London wasn’t home, either, when I first moved there. And look at how much I had fallen in love with the place. It was strange, actually, the way I now felt so strongly that London was my home, in the same way I knew Detroit was. I just needed to give L.A. more time. Besides, I still had tonight. All of my friends would be gathered in one place. Not just my London friends, but Callie, too. And Sofie! This was seriously the best of both worlds. And I was going to do my best to enjoy it.

Chapter Eleven

Megahn had picked a very hip restaurant in SoHo for her soiree. I thought it fit her perfectly—the space was sleek and uncluttered, a smattering of high-top tables the only seating, an ambient bluish light permeating the otherwise dark room.

“I can barely see my own hand,” Sarra muttered. “What in the hell would inspire anyone to use that kind of lighting?”

“I like it,” Charlie said. “It’s cool.”

“Yeah, cool.” Sarra rolled her eyes. “This place is entirely
too
cool, if you know what I mean.”

“Sarra is very anti-anything that takes itself too seriously,” Thomas told Sofie.

“More like anything that requires her to wear a dress and lose the corduroy,” Meghan said, coming up behind us with a Cosmo in her hand. “I knew you’d bitch about this place.”

“I’m not bitching,” Sarra said. “I’m just saying it would be nice to look at my friends and not see a blue tinge on their faces.”

Meghan rolled her eyes, and I wondered, not for the first time, how two people so very different from each other had become such good friends. “Are the rest of you at least having fun?” she asked.

“It’s wonderful,” I said. “Not too blue at all.” I kissed her cheek. “And you look lovely, by the way.”

She did, too. Her long blond hair hung in a sleek curtain down her back, her dress a tastefully cute white silk sheath. My hips would have looked ridiculous in something like that, but Meghan made the look appear effortless.

“You too, Lizzie.” She gave me a one -armed hug, careful not to spill her drink.

“This is my cousin, Sofia,” I said, gesturing at Sof.

Meghan gave her the same hug. “I’ve heard so much about you,” she said. “Lizzie just loves you to pieces. It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

“You too,” Sofia said. “You all made Lizzie so happy and welcome here in London.”

“We’re crazy about her,” Meghan said, winking at me. “And it’s so nice to see Thomas settled.”

“I don’t know about settled.” I raised an eyebrow at him. “He’s pretty wild, you know. Just last week he ate cereal on the couch.”

Everyone laughed, and Thomas pinched my side.

“I have to mingle a little.” Meghan shot me an apologetic look. “Can we catch up soon, though? I miss you.”

“Of course.”

She sashayed off, her smooth voice calling out a hello to someone.

“I can see how she would make boys cry,” Sofie muttered in my ear. “That woman is pretty much perfect.”

I laughed. “She really is.”

“Is there any actual food in this place?” Sarra asked. “Or are we meant to subsist on neon-colored drinks consisting of God knows what.”

“Oh, quit your whinging,” Charlie said. “Of course there’s food.”

We set off in search of the buffet, and I was pleased to find that Meghan’s legendary hosting skills had not gone to waste—the food looked amazing.

“This is more like it,” Sarra said happily, loading a plate with steak kabobs, bruschetta, bacon-wrapped asparagus, and gourmet sliders. “Good old Meghan.”

I followed behind her, filling my plate as well. My mouth was practically watering by the time I’d grabbed a bit of everything that looked good.

“Let’s snag that table,” Sarra said, heading off across the room toward an empty high top. I followed her, the rest joining us once they’d filled their own plates. Sarra’s mouth was already full by the time we sat down.

“Sorry,” she said, her voice muffled by her full cheeks. “I’m really hungry.”

“Such class.” Callie laughed, picking up an egg roll. “Though I can’t really blame you. This stuff looks great.”

We all chowed down for a bit, talking only about how good the food was. Thomas’s friends loved a good meal. When I first met Meghan I was worried she was one of those women who never ate, but that couldn’t be farther from the truth. This group approached food the way they did everything else—enthusiastically and argumentatively.

“They’re not oyster mushrooms,” Sarra was saying. “They’re shitake mushrooms.”

“You’re wrong,” Thomas said. “We had shitake mushrooms at that gastro pub in Brighton, remember? The place with the drawn butter scallops?”

“No,” Charlie said. “That was the place with prawns.”

I looked at Sofie apologetically. “They’re kind of foodies. Pretty much every meal with them is like this.” I looked down at her plate. Like mine, it was pretty much cleared.

She laughed. “I guess we’re more of the philosophy that food is food and is best when eaten quickly, huh?”

I pointed at her. “Exactly.”

“You know,” Sarra said, looking at me. “I’m glad to see you still have such a good appetite, Lizzie.”

Baffled, I looked at her. “What do you mean?”

She shrugged. “I was worried you were going to succumb to the body standard issues in Hollywood.”

I felt color come to my cheeks. “Are you saying I’m too fat for Hollywood?”

She rolled her eyes. “Give me a break. Look at your waist! I’m just saying it seems like a lot of girls out there give into the idea that a woman can never be too thin. I’m glad you’re not one of them.”

Thomas’s arm around my waist drifted down to the top of my butt. “Me too.”

I rolled my eyes. “You know, you’re not the first person who’s made a comment about my eating habits and weight since I moved there.”

Thomas’s arm tightened. “Who’s talking to you about your weight?”

“Imogen.” I saw his face cloud over and hurried on before ideas of having her fired entered his head. “She was just saying she couldn’t believe I didn’t diet. Apparently I’m, like, the female equivalent of a magic unicorn, or something. She couldn’t believe I existed.”

“I hope you don’t ever diet,” he said, still looking concerned. “You’re perfect.”

I tried not to laugh at that. Sarra had a point—most of the women I came into contact with in L.A. were a heck of a lot skinnier than me—skinnier than just about anyone I had ever met. Particularly at the industry events I’d had to attend with Thomas. He could call me perfect all he wanted; their judgmental looks told a different story.

“Our family is cursed with big hips,” Sofie said, grabbing her last kabob. “There’s really no sense in fighting it. May as well enjoy your food.”

I grinned at her. “That dress is wasted on this group. We need to find you someone to flirt with.”

“Already on it.” She pointed across the room at a tall, red-headed guy in a black suit. “I’m digging the red hair. Think he’s Irish?”

“Could be,” Charlie said. “Though Englishmen have been known to have red hair too.”

“I love me an Irish accent.” She popped a strawberry from her plate into her mouth. “Well,” she said, winking at me. “Only one way to find out.”

She sauntered across the room to the man and tapped his shoulder. I couldn’t hear what she said, but from his grin I assumed it was well received.

“Confidant girl, that cousin of yours,” Thomas said, and I laughed.

“You have no idea.”

He bent down so he could whisper in my ear. “I’m going to go crazy if I can’t get my hands on you soon. Dance with me?”

I followed him happily to the dance floor, pressing myself up against him and letting him lead me. Thomas was a great dancer, as smooth and confidant on the floor as he was on screen.

“Where’d you learn to dance?” I asked. “Is it something British boys are taught at your posh public schools?”

He laughed. “My mother taught me. Paul and I both.”

“That’s sweet.”

We danced in silence for a moment, enjoying being wrapped up in each other. “You haven’t been worrying about your weight, have you?” he asked suddenly, his voice tight.

“No,” I said, surprised. “Thomas, it was just something Imogen said. I didn’t take offense from it.”

“Are you sure?” His eyes were concerned when he looked down at me. “Because I’ve been thinking that you feel thinner. And I would hate it if you were dieting, Lizzie. I really would.”

I laughed. “Thinner? Your mother spent the past week filling me with fattening foods.”

His fingers flexed on my waist. “I can feel it, Lizzie.”

I fidgeted with the back of his collar. I certainly wasn’t actively dieting, but I also was spending more time with people who made me feel self-conscious. And I rarely ate to the point of fullness in those situations. From the fiery look in his eyes, however, I didn’t want to tell him that. “Maybe it’s all the walking on the beach,” I said, which wasn’t a lie. “It has to make some kind of difference when someone goes from sitting and reading ninety-nine percent of the time to walking on the sand a few hours a day.”

He nodded, seemingly satisfied, but after a moment, he cleared his throat. “I see girls in the business hurting themselves all of the time. It’s sad, really sad. I can see the pressure they’re under. But if I thought for a second that you were feeling that pressure by living there…”

“I’m not.”

“Do you promise me that you’ll tell me if you are?”

“Thomas—”

“It’s something I take seriously, Lizzie. Will you promise me?”

I could see the sincerity in his eyes. I wondered, briefly, what kind of things he had seen desperate actresses put themselves through. “I promise.”

He visibly relaxed, pulling me closer. “Good.” After a moment, he sighed. “Look, I know L.A. isn’t exactly what you want it to be.”

“What do you mean? L.A. is fine.”

He shook his head. “Come on. We barely see each other. You’re in that house by yourself all the time, or off with Imogen instead of me. When we do see each other I’m always dragging you to this industry stuff, which I know you hate.”

“I don’t
hate
it,” I said, not entirely convincingly, and he laughed.

“Of course you do. You told me you weren’t into any of that from the very beginning of our relationship. That didn’t change over night.”

I avoided his eyes, feeling uncomfortable. “Thomas, I made a decision to be with you. I fully understood that being in a relationship might include…some things I wasn’t exactly crazy about.”

“You shouldn’t have to deal with things you aren’t crazy about,” he said, his voice tight. “I hate that you do.”

“Babe, come on. It’s not that big of a deal. All relationships have give and take.”

“I feel like you do all the giving since we got there.”

“That’s not true.” But a quiet little voice in the back of my head whispered,
What has he given up for you lately?

“You do a ton of giving,” I said, my voice fierce, wanting to silence the traitorous doubt in my mind. “You gave me a ridiculous vacation in Vegas and then flew my cousin out here, for God’s sake.”

“That was a Christmas gift. I’m talking about on a daily basis.”

I took a deep breath. “Look, I’m not going to pretend I love every little thing about our life in L.A. But it’s also not forever, Thomas. It’s okay for me to be supportive of you right now, for your career to be the focus. It doesn’t mean it will be like this every month, you know? This movie was a huge opportunity. We’re focusing on that opportunity. It really isn’t a problem.”