Falling for Grace

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Falling for Grace Page 23

by Kate O'Keeffe


  “I hadn’t realised,” Rangi comments, gazing at Tiffany.

  “Me neither,” she replies, gazing back, a goofy grin on her pretty face.

  They lean in and kiss, oblivious to anyone but each other.

  I head towards my bedroom. “That’s my cue to leave.”

  Taylor walks through the front door, drops her keys on the kitchen bench. She notices Rangi and Tiffany on the couch. They’re still kissing.

  She waves me back into the kitchen. “Can’t they do that in her room?” she whispers to me. “They’re as bad as the rams in tupping season.”

  “They’re in ‘that phase’,” I reply, rolling my eyes.

  “Ha! You can talk.”

  My mind instantly jumps back to Sam. I’ve never felt like this about a man before. When I think of him I feel at peace, a warm glow filling my heart, my belly. What does it matter if the world thinks I was some one-night-stand and he’s now back with the much-adored Vanessa Hudson? I should be happy I have him, content to be a secret for now, knowing one day we can be together out in the open for the world to see.

  I know he loves me. That should be enough.

  Why, then, does it hurt so much?

  I notice Taylor looking at me quizzically. “A penny for them?” she asks, breaking the spell.

  “What? Oh, I was just thinking about some work stuff,” I reply.

  “Work?” She laughs. “Is that what we’re calling the love of your life these days, ‘work’?”

  I force a smile. “You got me.”

  She glances over at Tiffany and Rangi on the sofa. Satisfied we’re out of earshot, she asks, “What gives? Everything okay?”

  “Yes, of course,” I reply a little too brightly.

  She doesn’t look convinced.

  I give in. “No, not really. He’s just told me he has to keep up appearances with Vanessa for a while longer.”

  “What’s ‘a while’?”

  “A couple of months.”

  A thought occurs to me. If the sequel goes ahead, they may need to keep the charade going until the movie’s not only filmed, but released too. That could be a year! Or more.

  In an instant, I can see my relationship with Sam stretching out in front of me: being kept a secret for an interminably long time, never seeing the light of day.

  I swallow hard. “Or maybe longer.”

  “That sucks. But it’s not the end of the world. For a moment there, I thought you were going to tell me you’d broken up.”

  “No, no. Nothing like that.”

  “What’s to worry about then? You’ve got a great guy who loves you and you’re about to meet up with him in one of the most romantic places in the world this side of Paris. Go with it. Enjoy the ride.”

  “You know what? You’re right, Taylor. Sam is amazing. I knew what I was getting myself in for with him. And he’s worth it.”

  “Exactly. So worth it. Forget everything else. It means nothing.”

  I head back to my bedroom, resolved I won’t let this come between us. Sam loves me and I love him.

  I block my ears to the quiet little voice whispering to me it’s not enough.

  Chapter 24

  HAWAII IS CANCELLED.

  I can barely believe it, but it’s true. Sam called me this morning to break the news.

  “I’m so sorry, Grace. Believe me. This is the last thing I wanted.”

  My heart sinks into my stomach. “Yeah, me too.”

  “At least we have my trip to New Zealand at the end of the month to look forward to. I promise, it will be spectacular.”

  “I don’t need spectacular,” I grump.

  “Of course, you do. I’ll book us into that high-end place you mentioned, on Lake Takakapo. You know, the big one in the centre of the North Island.”

  I smile, despite myself. “Lake Taupo.”

  “Taupo. Okay. We can stay there and never leave the room. It’ll be just you and me. What do you say?”

  I like the sound of ‘you and me’. It doesn’t help that sinking feeling go away, though.

  An idea pierces the fog. “How about I come up to LA to see you? I could change my flight. I already have the time off.”

  My momentary exaltation is deflated seconds later. “That would be amazing, but I’m jammed. Plus, there are so many more paparazzi here, looking for a story. It would be too risky.”

  Panic cuts into my chest. “You don’t want me there?”

  His voice softens. “Of course I do. Are you crazy? We just have to be patient. We’ll be together in good time.”

  I shake my head, trying to snap out of it. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

  “Hey, there’s nothing to feel sorry about. It’s me who’s sorry. I miss you so much. I can’t wait to be with you again, to touch you, to see that beautiful smile in the flesh.”

  My heart softens. “Me too. Roll on next month.”

  * * *

  I don’t have to wait until next month. I’m struggling to carry the clothes for a fashion shoot up the stairs to my apartment building when I hear a voice behind me.

  “Can I help you with that, Miss?”

  On hearing the distinctive, sexy Scottish accent I turn around in surprise. Sam is standing behind me, looking almost good enough to eat in a pair of jeans and a navy V-neck T-shirt, grinning from ear to ear.

  Without thinking I drop the bag of clothes on the floor and leap into his arms. “Sam!” I cover him in kisses, unable to contain my excitement. I kiss his lips, his cheeks, even his nose.

  He laughs, holding onto me tightly. “It’s so good to see you.”

  “What are you doing here?” I ask, incredulous.

  “I had something to give you.”

  He hands me a gift.

  I take it and look back at him, confused but very, very happy. “You came all this way to give me a present? What is it?”

  “Open it and you’ll see.”

  I rip the wrapping paper off and see it’s a DVD. “Bladerunner,” I read with a smile. “Thanks, Rick Deckard.”

  I put my free hand on his face and pull him in for a fresh kiss on his beautiful mouth, breathing in his familiar scent. “I can barely believe you’re here.”

  “The gift isn’t the only reason I came here.”

  I snicker. “Really?”

  His face is serious. “When I heard you so upset on the phone—although you hid it well—I had to see you.”

  So, he could tell. “If this is the result I can be upset every single phone call. How long are you here?”

  “Not long. My schedule’s jammed but . . . I had to see you.”

  My heart swells in my chest and I grin at him like some sort of love-struck loon. “We should get inside. The paparazzi might not be lurking around anymore but we still don’t want anyone to see you here.”

  He kisses me again. It’s hungry, urgent.

  My body stands to attention.

  “Good thinking.” He leans down and collects the bag of clothes up off the floor.

  We climb the stairs to my apartment. As I put the key into the lock he slips his arms around my waist, whispering in my ear, “Straight to the bedroom. We have a lot of catching up to do.”

  Possibly setting a land speed record, we’re in my room, the door closed firmly behind us, kissing and undressing, popping buttons and tearing clothes in our eagerness to touch one another again.

  Within moments he has me on the bed, naked, holding my hands above my head as he trails kisses down my body, teasing me with his lips, his tongue.

  I let out a groan as my arousal reaches fever pitch.

  “I’ve missed you—this—so much,” he breathes, sliding up my body until we’re face to face, the weight of his body on top of mine heightening my desire.

  I let out a gasp as he pushes my legs apart and eases himself inside me, grabbing hold of me with his firm grasp.

  Our need for one another is intense, our love making fast, urgent. Within what feels like only moments I cry out a
s I ride the crest of the wave, pleasure rolling through me.

  Afterwards we lie in bed, the sheets twisted around us.

  “God, I love you, Grace,” he mutters breathlessly into my hair.

  My heart clenches. “I love you too, Sam.”

  * * *

  “What time is it?” I ask, my voice groggy with sleep.

  Sam leans down and kisses me. “It’s six.”

  I breathe him in as a smile spreads across my face at the memory of last night. I tug on his top, pulling him down onto the bed next to me.

  I take his hand and slide it under the covers, enjoying its coolness against my warm flesh. He lets out a moan, heavy with desire. “This is not going to get me to the airport,” he murmurs into my ear.

  “The airport?” I sit bolt upright, knocking my head painfully against his. “Ow!”

  He rubs his head. “A little warning would have been appreciated.”

  “Sorry.” I kiss where our heads met. “Are you leaving? So soon?”

  “Grace, I told you it was a short visit.”

  “I didn’t realise short meant this short. It hasn’t even been a full day yet.”

  He sits down next to me as I wrap the covers around myself.

  “I know. It’s crap, but it’s the way it is. I’ll be back before you know it.” He pushes my ruffled hair behind my ear.

  As I look into his eyes in the weak morning light, my heart feels like it’s breaking. “I don’t want you to leave.”

  A solitary tear trickles down my cheek.

  He brushes it away with his thumb. “I know.”

  He pulls me in for a hug and we sit for some time together in silence, bathed in the morning light.

  “Hey, David has asked me to give this to you.” He reaches over to his bag, pulls out a white envelope.

  He hands it to me as he gets up to finish packing.

  “What is it?”

  “It’s a confidentiality agreement. It’s no biggie. David says they’re pretty standard in the entertainment industry.”

  “A confidentiality agreement?” My voice comes out in a whisper. “Why?”

  “Babe, it’s fine,” he reassures me. “David says it’s a safeguard against another story about us leaking to the media. He says we can’t afford for me to look like a sleazebag right now.”

  “Us being together makes you a sleazebag?” I whisper, horrified.

  “Of course not.” He gives me a kiss. “Just in the eyes of the media. You know the drill.”

  “Oh.” I look down at the envelope, sceptical. “Who do you want to sign this?”

  “Your family, for starters. Your roommates, basically anyone who knows about us and might be tempted to talk.”

  I look at him, aghast. “Don’t you trust them?”

  He sits next to me on the bed once more. “Of course I do.”

  “Then why get them to sign this?”

  “Just see it as an insurance policy, okay? Nothing more. David says people do this sort of thing in my industry all the time.”

  I must look entirely unconvinced as he adds, “Seriously, Grace. They’ll understand.”

  I nod. Perhaps he’s right. Perhaps I’m making a bigger deal of this than I ought. All the document does is ensure no one talks about him and me unless he agrees. It protects both of us from the scrutiny of the press—something I’m happy to avoid.

  I’m in Sam’s world now. I need to be clever about this.

  Why, then, do I feel like his dirty little secret?

  Chapter 25

  I ARRIVE AT MY parents’ place the following evening, the agreement burning a hole the size of a crater lake in my bag. I’ve brought Savannah, Taylor, Tiffany and Rangi with me, since they know about Sam and me. That way I can capture everyone who knows the truth in one fell swoop.

  I’m as nervous as a cat dangling over a pond by the time I’m perched on the sofa in my parent’s living room, clutching onto the agreement, a sea of faces sitting in expectation.

  “What did you want to talk about, Gracie? If I were a betting man I’d wager it’s in that envelope you’re gripping,” Dad says, smiling.

  Self-conscious, I release my grip. “It is. You got me there, Dad,” I reply, trying to sound chipper.

  Mia gurgles in Brooke’s arms and all eyes turn to her.

  “That was a funny sound,” Brooke coos, bobbing Mia gently up and down.

  Logan, balanced on the side of Brooke’s chair, gazes at his daughter, a goofy grin plastered across her face. “She’s just saying hi, aren’t you my little Mia?”

  “So? Don’t keep us in suspense? What is it?” Mum asks, grinning.

  “Well, it’s something Sam has asked you all to look over.”

  “Intriguing.” Mum looks set to burst. Perhaps she thinks it’s an invitation to a swanky Hollywood party or an offer to appear in his next movie?

  “Get on with it, Grace” Tiffany says to general agreement around the room.

  I pull the agreement out of the envelope, glance at it, and then launch into my pre-prepared speech.

  “As you’re all aware, it was very difficult for Sam when the story about our relationship broke. It wasn’t good for his image. He has to manage his career and part of that is managing the public perception of him. What that means right now, of course, is the world can’t know about him and me.”

  I glance around the room. They’re all watching me closely, nodding their heads.

  “Yep, we know that,” Tiffany says.

  I continue. “What he’s asking you all to do is sign this confidentiality agreement. It’s to ensure no one talks about our relationship. It’s all about his reputation, really. It counts for a lot in Hollywood, you see.”

  I try to sound upbeat, like this is no big deal: like my boyfriends ask my friends and family to sign confidentiality agreements every day.

  We sit in silence until finally—hallelujah!—Dad says, “Of course we’ll sign it, won’t we, everyone?

  There’s a general murmur of agreement. But it’s lacklustre to say the least.

  “If it’s important to you, we’ll sign it, won’t we?” Taylor says to Tiffany and Rangi. “Especially you, Tiffany,” she adds.

  Tiffany glares at her. “No skin off my nose.”

  Rangi nods in agreement.

  “No problem . . . sis,” Savannah says, smiling.

  I heave a sigh of relief.

  “Yes, anything for you and Sam,” Mum adds.

  I look at her. Is her smile a little less bright?

  “Hold on, you lot.” It’s hard-headed Brooke. “Let me get this straight. He’s asking us to keep him and Grace a secret. Legally.”

  “Yes, that’s right.” I smile at her, hoping she’s not going to make a fuss. My sister didn’t become a successful entrepreneur without getting to the heart of things. “It’s no big deal,” I add, echoing Sam’s words to me. “And it protects me too. Remember how horrible it was when news of our relationship broke? I found that really tough.”

  She narrows her gaze at me. “So, you’re saying you’re okay with this?”

  I glance at Brooke’s baby, sleeping in her arms. Now would be a good time to pull out one of those cute gurgles again, Mia.

  “Of course!” I trill. It’s piercing. I’m certain I hear crystal shattering in the glass cabinet down the hall. “It’s no big deal.”

  “So you said.” She studies me for a moment longer. Then, to my eternal relief she smiles and says, “If it’s important to you, Grace, we’ll sign it. Won’t we, Logan?”

  He shrugs. “Sure.”

  My face breaks into a grin. “Thank you all so much. I knew you’d understand. Sam will be so happy.” I stand up and hand the agreement to Dad.

  “I’ll have a good look through it, Gracie.”

  The room goes quiet. My palms are sweating.

  The front door slams, startling us all. A moment later Dylan shuffles into the room and dumps his school bag on the floor with a thud. He looks around at us a
ll, taking in the sober scene.

  “Who died?”

  A ripple of laughter moves around the room. It sounds forced, unnatural.

  “No-one, Dylan. Come, sit,” Mum says patting the sofa next to her.

  Dylan notices Tiffany, cozied up on the sofa next to Rangi, and his face instantly blushes.

  “Hi, Dylan,” Tiffany says, enjoying his discomfort.

  “Hey,” he manages, his head down as he slopes over to sit next to Mum.

  “Your boyfriend’s still with that actress,” he says to me.

  Mum glances at me then turns her attention back to Dylan. “Well that’s just all part of the game, isn’t it?”

  “I guess,” he replies, his tone dubious.

  “In fact, Grace has a document for us all to sign, saying we won’t talk about her and Sam to anyone.”

  Dylan shrugs. “Sure. It’s embarrassing, anyway.”

  “Embarrassing?” I ask, shaking my head.

  “Yeah. I mean, it’s cool you’re dating him and everything, but I don’t want to think about my sister . . . you know . . . doing it. It’s gross.” He turns beet red, and turns his attention to his boots.

  “Well, Dylan,” Dad says, standing up, “do what I do.”

  “What’s that?” Brooke asks.

  “Pretend that when they’re together they’re playing Scrabble. I do it with Brooke and Logan too, although there’s some evidence to the contrary.” He nods at Mia, smiling.

  Dylan grunts. It almost sounds like a laugh. “Sure, Dad.”

  “Believe me, son. It’s so much better this way.”

  I let out a breath, glad my friends and family will do what I ask of them.

  As conversation turns to other topics and Dad offers everyone cups of coffee, I let out a relieved breath. Although I’m warmed by how willing my friends and family are to help me and Sam, my heart is heavy by just how little he trusts them.

  * * *

  The following morning I’m at Capital Woman Magazine, preparing for the photo shoot. I look at the clothes Sam collected off the floor for me. His fleeting visit was just that, and part of me can barely believe he was here.

  My mind darts to the confidentiality agreement sitting in the drawer of my bedside table at home. An uncomfortable lump settles in my belly.

 

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