by Lee Winter
That clinched it. Summer didn’t want to hear this story—ever. Maybe that made her soft, or lacking a sense of humor, but it felt wrong. Her gaze fell on Alex, whose expression was pinched.
Huh. So Summer wasn’t the only one who had reservations about this?
Grace’s mouth opened, her smile seductive, inviting, about to lay Elizabeth’s most embarrassing dirty laundry out for the room’s amusement.
Shut up, Summer wanted to hiss at her. A distraction would be good right about now. Well…there was one thing she could do.
Catching Amrit’s eye, Summer offered him a wide, friendly smile. He blinked and reflexively smiled in return, his dazzling white teeth on display. He angled his body toward her, and his gaze became darker and interested…which had the effect of freezing Grace mid-word.
“So tell me, Summer,” Amrit said, seizing the opening, “Are you seeing anyone? Do you have some cute boyfriend being driven wild by this subterfuge you’ve dreamt up with our Bess?”
Grace frowned and drew in a long sip of wine.
“Ooh, good question,” Alex nodded approvingly. “And I can see from Bess’s surprised look that she forgot to ask.”
“That’s why we’re here, though, isn’t it?” Summer said. “To fill in the gaps? And no, I’m not dating anyone.”
Amrit brightened enough to pass as a lighthouse beacon.
“But I have no plans to date either,” she told him. “This whole thing is complicated enough without adding a real relationship to it.”
“Ouch,” Rowan chuckled at Amrit. “Crash and burn, my friend.”
“Maybe later,” Amrit sounded unconcerned. “You are too beautiful to pass by, Summer. I can wait.”
Jesus.
Beside her, Elizabeth stiffened. Grace looked ready to crush her glass in her bare hands.
“How about you?” Summer turned to her couchmate. “Anyone real you’re dating that I should be aware of? Or avoid?”
Alex chortled. “Yes, do tell, Bess.” She leaned forward. “Inquiring minds are dying to know.”
“No, no one. As you well know.” Elizabeth gave Alex a loaded look and then rose. “Let me get the food. And I think the Q&A on me can be postponed until after the usual proceedings.”
“The usual proceedings?” Summer asked.
“She means the trivia component of our night,” Grace said with an elegant flourish of her hand. “Shakespeare. Don’t be too upset if we get all caught up with tricky questions. We don’t expect you to know all this. That’s quite all right.”
A soft snort sounded from behind Summer, courtesy of Elizabeth, on her way to the kitchen.
Summer plastered on her most innocent look. “Well, I am American, so you’ll have the cultural advantage on me.”
“We do,” Brian said, eyes kind. “So, as Grace said, please don’t worry if you don’t know the answers. We grew up with it, so we have a head start on our lad, Will.”
“Thanks. I’ll try my best. I think I’ll help Elizabeth with the food.”
She left the room, thinking about Elizabeth’s friends. They were a mixed bag. Zara warm and intriguing. Alex sharp, whip-smart, and more protective of Elizabeth than the others. There was an undertone between them that Summer couldn’t decipher. Grace, although subtle and oozing class, was a sly one. She obviously didn’t like Summer one bit. It probably had a lot to do with Amrit’s interest in her. He was as charming as the day was long, but boy, was he ever barking up the wrong tree. And peacemaker Brian and droll Rowan were adorable, funny, and well matched.
“Hey,” Summer said as she found the kitchen. Polished wood surfaces gleamed at her. She trailed her fingers across a counter. “Need a hand?”
Elizabeth glanced up. “Sure. Can you help me carry out the trays over there? Take off the plastic film, too. I just need to finish up the platter.”
“No problem.” Summer eyed the vegetable sticks and dips. “Your friends seem nice.” She couldn’t help the slightest hint of accusation that slid into her voice.
“But?” Elizabeth paused chopping carrots into sticks.
“You couldn’t have given me a head’s up about you fake-dating the guys? No wonder you’re up for repeating the game with me. You’re an old hand at it.”
“I am no such thing,” Elizabeth said in exasperation. “It’s only ever been red-carpet events. That’s it.”
“I saw the photos of you at the restaurant with Amrit after…” She trailed off. After I made an idiot of myself and tripped down some steps.
“Yes. After.” Elizabeth said. “That’s why he and I played up to the cameras. It was the first time Amrit’s ever been my date outside of an official media event. And I had to make an exception because Delvine didn’t like the optics of you swooning in my arms.”
“Hey, I wasn’t swooning, I was falling.”
“The reality doesn’t matter.”
“What happens when you want to date someone in real life? Are they just expected to put up with seeing you and Amrit all over the magazines?”
“The people I date don’t care about him.”
“They don’t?”
“No.”
“Why?”
Elizabeth pressed her lips together. A carrot met its fate with an especially loud chop. “Not relevant.”
Ouch. She was right. But still. Ouch.
“Look, while we’re on the topic, you should avoid Amrit,” Elizabeth continued. “He’s not into relationships. He’s more into the chase, and once he snares the pretty obsession of the week, he moves on.”
“Is that what happened with Grace?”
“How do you know about that?” Her expression was careful. “Did you read it somewhere?”
“No. I have eyes.”
“Oh.” Elizabeth opened the fridge and pulled out a large platter. “I suppose she’s being a little less subtle tonight. She’s normally more discreet.”
“Well, she’s not made of stone. He’s flirting his ass off right in front of her and she’s clearly in love with him.”
“Maybe.”
“She is.” That level of jealousy wasn’t a friendship kind. “You know, I’d be happy to tell her Amrit’s all hers.”
“No, don’t. It would just embarrass her. Leave it.”
And yet she doesn’t mind embarrassing you? “Okay.”
“She’s usually much more removed from all this. Besides, she’s the queen of… well, everything.” Elizabeth’s voice was so wistful.
“Everything?”
“Well, style, class, acting, beauty, you name it. But most especially the illusion. She’s normally not so…”
“Human? Obvious?”
“Something like that.”
“You sound really impressed by her.”
Elizabeth glared at Summer as if she didn’t like the sound of that. “She mentored me, years ago. She’s remarkable to watch at her craft. And she did something for me that gave me my career. I owe her this house and this life.”
“What did she do?”
“I was a complete unknown when I arrived in LA, but she wasn’t. She got Delvine to manage me. But then… then she got me an agent. Someone impossible: Rachel Cho.”
Summer knew all the industry buzz on Cho. She was famously picky with her client list and rarely took on unknowns. Being signed by her was like winning an Oscar. Which seemed fair, since she had so many Oscar winners on her books. “But how did Grace manage to do that?”
“You have to understand that when Grace first arrived, everyone thought she would take Hollywood by storm. She was being written up as the hottest property in town. Given her awards, theater background, and national prestige back home, it was a given that she’d be snapped up by one of the big-name agents. Even after some months, she hadn’t decided who’d do the snapping. Then I told her I was moving to
LA, and that’s when she made me the condition: She’d only sign with someone who took me on too.”
“She did?” That was beyond unusual.
“Yes. She’s always looked out for my career. Thanks to her actions, I soon won the starring role on Choosing Hope. So my career is down to Grace.” Her expression dared Summer to disagree.
Elizabeth claimed no credit at all for her own success? Why? It couldn’t be that she lacked self-confidence. She was talented and knew it. And yet, she thought everything was all thanks to perfect, queen-of-everything Grace?
With a nudge of finality, Elizabeth finished with her platter and straightened. “Grace’s career hasn’t been what it deserves to be. She never complains about it. But we all know the truth: She should be the star, not me. It’s almost…” she gave a pained look, “embarrassing that I’m the successful one now. Hollywood is clearly blind and stupid.” The last line dripped with venom.
Um, what? Summer had seen an awful lot of Elizabeth’s moods by now, but never this one. Embarrassed, appalled, and defensive? She seemed personally offended her mentor wasn’t appreciated.
“Well, it’s great she helped you,” Summer said cautiously. “You deserve every success, by the way. Grace or not, you’ve done really well. It’s not entirely luck.”
“Actually, it’s almost all luck, since it’s clearly not about talent,” Elizabeth countered adamantly, picking up the platter. “If talent was the criteria, Grace would be the household name, not me.”
Summer avoided that statement like a grenade and simply nodded.
“Tray,” Elizabeth reminded her, inclining her head toward the second one. “Let’s go out and shake up the Bard lovers. I admit I’ve been looking forward to this all week.” And then, as though nothing out of the ordinary had been discussed, she shot Summer a brilliant smile.
Chapter 10
“Okay,” Brian said, between bites of celery stick, “let’s get started. Same rules as always. Someone asks a question. Whoever answers correctly first gets one point and to ask the next question. If no one gets it right, the asker gets five points and to ask another question. I have my iPad to adjudicate any tricky stuff. Everyone clear?”
“And what does the winner get?” Summer asked curiously.
“Oh-ho!” Brian chortled. “Love the confidence. The winner gets…” he glanced around, “…a kiss from our lovely host. Okay?”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “How exciting for you all.”
“I’m keen.” Amrit winked.
Summer wondered if the man was born with Flirt Mode set to maximum.
“Such incentive,” Grace said with a sarcastic drawl. “All I’ve ever wanted is Bess’s kisses.”
Summer darted a look at Elizabeth. Was this some old joke between friends, or was that as mean as it sounded?
Elizabeth’s jaw worked. Her eyes fixed on her glass of spirits. No reply.
Summer turned to find Alex’s sympathetic gaze burning into Elizabeth. So, she hadn’t been imagining that undertone.
“Absolutely.” Brian supplied a cheery grin. “Who wouldn’t want a kiss from the lovely Bess?” His voice was warm and placating, taking the sting out of Grace’s acerbic line.
“Can of worms, this,” Rowan muttered, taking a deep gulp of beer. It was black and looked about as appealing as slurping tar. “But we’re all agreed on the terms?”
Everyone nodded, including Summer.
“First question,” Brian said, “an easy one as a warm-up for everyone.” His eyes drifted to Summer, and it was clear it was meant for her, to make her feel welcome.
“Where was Shakespeare born?”
There was a silence, and everyone turned to her. Subtle.
She puckered her brow and drenched her voice in doubt. “Um, Stratford-upon-Avon?”
“Well done,” Brian beamed. “Excellent. Now can you think of a question for us?”
“Hmm.” Summer scrunched up her face. “How about, which of Shakespeare’s plays was the shortest?”
A brief hubbub started as answers were debated. Rowan cocked his head. “Comedy of Errors, isn’t it?”
Summer nodded. “Yes. Although I would have also accepted Double Falsehood, which is shorter, although whether it’s truly a lost Shakespeare play is still in dispute. Personally, I think it is.”
Rowan gave her a measuring look, which prompted a soft laugh from Elizabeth.
Clearing his throat, Rowan said, “I see our American friend might know a little more about the Bard than she first let on. Next question. Name this play…” His voice suddenly filled the room, becoming a deep, authoritarian boom. “‘Let me wipe it first, it smells of mortality’.”
“King Lear.” Summer answered before anyone else had even opened their mouths. “It’s an interesting line. The King’s response to a commoner asking to shake his hand.” She didn’t wait for Rowan’s agreement because she knew she was right. “Gee, okay another one. I think maybe we should try something harder, don’t you?” Her eyebrows lifted. “How many Shakespearean plays contain a character dying solely due to grief? And I’m not counting the thirteen people killing themselves as a result of their emotional state. I mean the grief itself causing death, usually from loss of a loved one.”
And that was the moment it dawned on everyone what was going on.
“Elizabeth, you sly old cat!” Zara laughed, waving a finger at her. “You’ve brought us a ring-in.”
“I have no idea what you mean,” Elizabeth reached for a carrot stick, sticking it into the dip. “And old? Thirty-seven is hardly old. You’ve gone native—absorbed the dark souls of Hollywood.” She looked around. “Does anyone know? I’ll guess six.”
“Four,” Grace said.
“Three,” Alex tried.
“People don’t die from grief.” Rowan gave Summer a suspicious stare. “It’s a trick question. None.”
“In Shakespeare’s time they did,” Brian countered, “or playwrights thought they did. One.”
“Zara?” Summer asked.
“It can happen in real life.” Zara shook a finger at Rowan. “I’ve heard stories of old people losing their spouses of fifty or sixty years and dying a day or a week later from a broken heart. You’re far too cynical, mate. Five.”
Summer shook her head. “No, ten.”
Brian grabbed his iPad and began searching. “You’re right. Someone’s actually done their thesis on it.” His eyes brightened in challenge. “Another five points for Summer Hayes, Shakespeare Shark.”
“Next question.” Summer grinned. “When Shakespeare died, he left almost everything he owned to his daughter. But what did he leave to his wife?”
“Oh my God.” Grace stared at her in astonishment. “Where did you come from?”
Elizabeth’s answering bright, full smile filled Summer with pleasure.
Summer won, as she’d known she would. But what made it all worthwhile was how Elizabeth looked as the evening progressed. She seemed…well, proud wasn’t quite the right word, but satisfied. Summer was just relieved she hadn’t disgraced herself in front of Elizabeth’s friends.
“It wasn’t even close.” Brian shook his head, then slapped his notepad down on the table. “For the record, Summer ninety-five, Grace thirty-nine, everyone else, never mind and have another drink.”
“How much did you study for this?” Grace asked, eyes sharp, as she drummed her fingers on her chair’s arm. “Because it’s just a casual thing among friends for us.”
Irritation flashed through Summer but before she could answer, Elizabeth interrupted. “She didn’t study at all. I sprung this on her. It’s true I knew she had a Shakespeare bent, but I didn’t know it extended to Shakespeare giving his wife his second-best bed and his bedclothes.”
Summer gave a sheepish shrug. “Shakespeare trivia’s always just stuck in my brain. I couldn’t s
hake it if I tried.”
“Well, bravo,” Brian said. “It’s a change for us.”
“That an American knows Shakespeare well?”
“No,” he grinned. “That someone finally beat Grace. I’m not sure if you’re aware, but she’s England’s darling when it comes to all things Bard-ish.”
“Oh, I know. I lived there for a few years as a teenager. I saw the billboards and the buses.”
Grace’s eyes were hooded. Summer interpreted her expression as: So the American knew all along who I was and didn’t bow and scrape? The infidel.
“By the way,” Alex broke the silence, “have you forgotten the little matter of the prize?” She waved at Elizabeth.
“It’s fine,” Summer said, her heart suddenly pounding. She’d hoped everyone had forgotten by now. It had been two hours ago.
“Nonsense, dear.” Grace’s mischievous gleam was back. “If you’re to play her lover, you’d better get some practice in.”
Ah. So embarrassing Summer was her new objective? Shocker.
Elizabeth shook her head. “I’m not sure I agreed to it anyway.”
“Oh, I’m sure we know why you didn’t,” Grace purred.
And there it was again. That haughty tone with the faint, fine edge. Grace might as well have just declared: Why would anyone want to lower themselves to kiss the common American?
She glanced around, wondering who else had realized it. Brian and Amrit were both frowning. Rowan was discussing something else with Zara. And Alex was staring at Grace as if she had two heads. Elizabeth’s expression was painfully neutral.
“Grace,” she started and then stopped, sighing. “I have no problem with giving Summer her prize.” Elizabeth glanced at her. “Assuming she wants it?”
Summer could say no—she desperately wanted to, because how awkward would this be? But then Elizabeth, who was trying to save her from feeling rejected, would be the rejected one. Damn it, Grace.
“Of course,” Summer said lightly, like this wasn’t the most momentous thing and her heart wasn’t doing the fandango at triple speed. “Practice, practice, practice.” She turned to Elizabeth, who smiled, leaned forward, and dropped a kiss on Summer’s lips.