“Let’s walk together. We can take the extra lap.”
“There’s an extra lap I don’t know about? Is that studio-speak?”
“Yep. Don’t tell anyone.” Taylor gathered her belongings and leashed up Raisin, who raised a sleepy gaze to her and snuggled back into the couch. “Okay, maybe a lap first, then I come back for you.” She placed a kiss on his head and set the leash on her desk.
The night was a nice one but came with a September chill. Taylor rubbed her arms as they exited the building. Instead of taking a right, which would have led them to the parking lot, Taylor took a left. She walked them past Stages 20 and 21, telling Isabel little bits of history about each one. At least, as much as she knew. “And this”—she pointed to a little courtyard they happened upon—“is my favorite place on the lot. During the day, you can hear children playing from the daycare center behind us.”
Isabel glanced around and moved farther into the space. “I’ve heard them playing when I’ve walked through here on the way to the Coffee Bean, but wasn’t quite sure where the sound was coming from.”
Taylor pointed at the series of doors across the courtyard, illuminated now by a quaint street lamp. “These were the original DesiLu Productions offices. That one belonged to Lucille Ball, and over there, that was Desi’s office.”
Isabel stared in awe. “Wow, that’s…I don’t even…I have no words right now.”
“I suspected you might appreciate the history, being that you’re a fellow TV buff.”
Isabel walked over to a handsome little tree. “You have no idea how awe inspiring this is. Working on such a historic lot has to be the coolest part of this job. I’ve been meaning to take the official tour on a day off.”
“In that case, let’s walk around a little more. I like this place at night.”
Isabel turned around and faced her. “You don’t mind? You’ve got to be exhausted.”
“Maybe I want to.”
She smiled. “Then, who am I to say no?”
They walked on. She showed Isabel the spot where several drunk cast members from Cheers had written their names in what had been wet cement. She walked her through the New York City backlot, complete with stairs resembling a subway entrance that descended to nowhere.
“Movie magic makes my head explode,” Isabel said, pretending to jet down the steps in a hurry. “I will never grow tired of it.”
Taylor laughed. “Then you’re in the right business.”
Tonight felt different, Taylor noted, as they walked the streets of the lot. The energy between them was lighter, and the electricity that much more on display. They looked at each other a lot. Glances turned to stares. Quick touches extended into longer ones. They were being downright flirtatious. For whatever reason, the magic of the mostly empty studio seemed to have granted them a sort of permission to just be…them.
“And here we are at Stage 5. You may or may not know this, but this was where they shot—”
“Holy hell. The Brady Bunch, right?” Isabel moved to the building as if hypnotized. She touched its exterior. “It all happened behind these walls. Do you understand that? Hallowed ground. Marcia got hit with a football just feet away.”
Taylor laughed. “She did.”
“Alice made dinner right through there,” Isabel said, pointing at the now locked door, and dipped her head to the side. “Right there. Just through that little door.”
“Quite true.”
She righted herself and smiled. “I’m geeking out and not really sorry about it.”
“I was hoping to meet your inner geek at one point, so mission accomplished.”
Isabel chattered away blissfully. “Thank you for bringing me here. I mean, if we’re being honest, it was on my list to seek out, but you’ve hit me with the element of surprise, and that’s got me a little gaga. Ignore me. I’m a lost cause. But if loving the Brady Bunch is wrong, then I don’t wanna be right!”
“Your cause is noble. But I can’t ignore you, you’re my entire tour. Shall we walk on or do you need a moment of silence?”
Isabel took a last glance up at the building and nodded. “I’m ready. But don’t think I won’t be back,” she said more to the building than to Taylor.
“I’ll alert security later. Follow me.”
As they walked, they ran into a working set and watched from afar at the shooting of an exterior scene. Isabel looked like a kid at Disneyland, and that only made Taylor want to show her more.
“Evening, Ms. Andrews,” said a security guard on a golf cart. “Late night for you?”
“It’s turning into one, Clint. We’re decompressing with a walk.”
He nodded. “Not too bad a night for one.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
They ended their walk at the Forrest Gump bench and took a seat. Isabel ran her hand across the commemorative plaque, beaming. She was, simply put, luminous. Her dark hair was halfway pulled back tonight and the rest fell down her back, her eyes danced, and her mouth was full and formed into an exuberant smile. Taylor could sit right there and watch her forever.
“I’ve seen this movie upward of a hundred times,” Isabel said.
“Well, I have you beat at well over two hundred.”
“You’re competitive.”
“The most. I do a really good Forrest.”
Isabel straightened, preparing. “I’m so ready.”
Taylor nodded and ran a hand across her face to wipe away any emotion that wasn’t straight from Forrest himself. She turned to Isabel in character. “Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you’re going to ge-at.”
Isabel studied her. “Mmm-hmm. Okay. I see.”
“Come on. That was killer.”
She reached over and covered Taylor’s hand. “You should be proud of the effort you put in.”
That pulled a gasp from Taylor because she’d always been told her impression was flawless. Dammit, and it was. She was type A. She did things right. “I don’t care what you say. People love my Forrest.”
“Do they?” Isabel asked knowingly.
“I’m keeping it.”
“Yes. You should keep it. Tucked away.”
Another horrified gasp, and Taylor shoulder-checked Isabel, who didn’t budge. In surprise, she turned, which left them face-to-face, only a whisper apart. Neither looked away. Neither pulled back, stunned by their proximity. Instead, they gazed at each other on that lonely studio block.
“Taylor.” Isabel had whispered the word, and it sent a wonderful chill through Taylor. “Am I crazy, or is there maybe something at play here?” Isabel gestured between them. And there it was, a blatant question, an out-loud acknowledgment of whatever had them following after each other, stealing moments or opportunities just to have a conversation or squeeze the other’s hand. Taylor could dodge the question, but she knew it would only come back around again later.
Taylor shook her head. “You’re not crazy.” She stared at the sky as she tried to find the right way to phrase it. “I haven’t had a great run of luck when getting involved with people at work.”
“No, I guess not.”
Taylor dropped her gaze to her lap. “And there is the fact that, even though it’s Hollywood, I’m still your boss.”
“Another hard-to-ignore point.” A pause. Isabel dropped her gaze to the ground and then back up. “I guess that takes us into conflict-of-interest territory. What do we do about that? About us?”
Taylor sighed, not liking the answer. For once, she needed to do the smart thing when it came to her love life. “As much as I hate to say this, I’ve found that when you’re not sure what to do, it’s usually best to do nothing at all.” She waited for several long moments for Isabel to respond.
“Wise words,” she said quietly, but they were still sitting so very close on that bench. It would be so easy to just close the distance and put an end to the whole thing, and what a delicious ending it would be. “Doesn’t mean I don’t have fun with you.�
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“I have fun with you, too. A lot.”
Isabel met her gaze. “Even if it’s fleeting, it’s nice to be close to you without having to pretend I’m not trying to be close to you.”
“Do you know how hard it’s going to be now, knowing that you want to be?”
Isabel lifted a shoulder. “Consolation prize for me. It would be worse if I were the crazy new staff writer, taken with her boss in a one-sided crush both embarrassing and desperate.”
“That version has the word ‘pilot’ written all over it,” Taylor said and looked up. It seemed the sky had spared not a single star, and they all twinkled down on a moment that could have been so very different. She turned her chin to Isabel and smiled ruefully. “You make this really difficult, you know that?”
Isabel chuckled. “Well, at least there’s that.” Her smile faded, causing something in Taylor to dim as well. “Maybe we should head back. It’s pretty late.”
She nodded as a wave of regret for what would never be washed over her.
They walked quietly back through the faux version of Manhattan that shifted from modern to historical as they went. Gone was the flirtation. A pallor had settled over the evening, and Taylor hated it.
As they traveled the darkened streets of 1930s Brooklyn, Isabel turned to her. “Something else you don’t know about me is that I can be reckless. I once stole the keys to my dad’s car and ran it into a ditch.”
“Your teenage rebellious years?”
“Something like that. But it never fully went away, that rebellious streak. When I know I should pump the brakes, I tend to floor the gas.”
“So, when you’re feelin—” But she didn’t get to finish that sentence because Isabel kissed her. Wrapped her damn arm around Taylor’s waist, held her in place, and kissed her expertly, authoritatively, and had Taylor’s pulse surging hard and fast.
What in the world kind of kiss is this?
Her head swam and her libido raced. And then there was Isabel’s mouth, which, dear God, was doing wonderful things to hers. She slid a hand behind Isabel’s neck, into her thick, soft hair and held on until the amazing experience was over, leaving her reeling on that sidewalk.
“See what I mean?” Isabel said through shallow breaths. “Reckless. It’s always been a problem.”
Taylor nodded, still searching for air. “I think I get it now.”
“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”
Taylor nodded again, touching her swollen lips and trying to keep up. “Me too. Deeply.” She glanced around, because, where were they exactly? Had that kiss transported them back in time? Cognizant thought floated back to her and she realized that no, they were simply making out on the studio backlot in the dark of night. No need to be alarmed, except that her body was. In fact, it was on five-alarm status and in desperate need of a continuation of that decadent encounter. Except that they’d agreed to circumvent whatever it was between them in the name of workplace integrity. Whose stupid idea was that? Who cared about workplace integrity at a time like this? All she really wanted to do was take Isabel home right now and take her sweet time.
“What do we do now?” Isabel asked.
“I think I pick up my dog and we walk back to our cars. And tomorrow, we come back here and do our jobs.” She hated those words. Hated them.
“Right. I can do that. And the other part? What should we do about that?” She had the sexiest look in her eyes, and if Taylor didn’t watch herself, there’d be some fireworks on one of these fake fire escapes.
“Let’s table that for now.”
“As in, on a table or…?” Isabel grinned like the smart-ass that she was, and the tension melted away.
“I like you,” Taylor said, with a great deal of confidence. That kiss had given her the courage to say so. “I really like you, Ms. Chase.”
“I like you, too.”
“Shall we return to the world?”
“The one in which you’re my boss?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
Isabel nodded her acquiescence. “Back to the harshness of reality we go.”
Only, when Taylor drove home that night, it felt nothing like the reality she’d known. She was altered after that stolen moment and carried it with her as she snaked her way up the hillside to her home. Raisin, fully awake now, rode with his paws on the passenger door, watching the world go by. “She’s so different, Raze. She makes me feel so different. What’s one to do about that, huh?” Raisin glanced over at her, wagging his tail, but left her to solve the problem that was Isabel Chase on her own.
Chapter Fourteen
The morning traffic that came through the Cat’s Pajamas on this particular Tuesday seemed to have hit a lull as Isabel slid into what was now her customary chair.
“I have news,” Autumn said with a sigh. She came around the counter and placed a carafe of coffee on the table inhabited by herself, Hadley, and Gia. Meeting for a cup of joe and pastry before heading to work was turning into a regular occurrence, and one she looked forward to each day.
“Well, hit us with it already,” Gia said. “I don’t do well with suspense. It’s like a jack-in-the-box, but with words.”
Hadley turned to her slowly. “You’re a competitive surfer, weirdo. You have nerves of steel. Is this Colombian?” Autumn nodded proudly and brought over a tray of warm pastries that left Isabel drooling.
Gia waved off the comment. “Nope. Totally different. That’s something I have control over. If Autumn has news, what if it’s bad news?” She motioned to her stomach. “See? My muscles are already tight.”
Isabel pointed at her. “You’re an empathetic person who is worried for her friend.”
Autumn patted Gia’s head. “A softy with killer abs. I appreciate you, Gia-Pet.”
Isabel smiled at the nickname. “So, what’s the news?” She took a sip of the divine coffee and sat back in her chair as goodness rushed over her.
Autumn threw a glance to the counter to make sure Steve, the barista, had it covered and then took a seat with her friends. “My ex is engaged. It was all over Facebook last night. Ring shots, posed kissing. A total punch in the gut.”
Hadley sat up. “Someone’s agreed to marry Olivia?”
Autumn smiled at the comment, but it was the tiniest of smiles, and that said something.
“What’s this Olivia like?” Isabel asked. She seemed to be the only one who didn’t know her.
“She sucks,” Gia said.
Hadley jumped on and tried to explain in gentler terms. “If Cruella de Vil was from Calabasas and blond, you’d be somewhere in the right neighborhood. She was amazing to Autumn in the beginning, until she wasn’t anymore. Then she turned just plain awful when she started working out at this elite gym, which we sort of realized was more of a cult than a gym. Olivia quickly rose in their ranks and became awful and vapid. We don’t miss her.”
Gia shook her head emphatically. “We don’t. Because she sucks.”
“I miss the nice Olivia from the good part of our relationship,” Autumn said sadly, staring into her mug. “She wasn’t always awful.”
Isabel felt for her as the new vulnerability on display was so unlike the badass, outspoken Autumn she’d come to know. It was clear this Olivia had done quite a number on her.
Gia slid Autumn a croissant from the center of the table.
“No, thanks. I don’t have much of an appetite. Besides, I put those out for Had. She loves bread.”
Hadley held up a hand. “While I appreciate the looking-out, get thee back, Satan. I’ve been killing myself to fit into a dress designed to fit no reasonable living female, but it’s beautiful, so I have no choice.”
“I’m not sure I could do that for any dress ever,” Isabel said, reflecting. “No,” she added, snagging a croissant. “I’m sure. There would be no way. I’m obsessed with food.”
“What’s the dress for?” Gia asked.
“The store’s having a gala for our designers. It’s all very
upper crust and Beverly Hills. Thereby, I need to fit into a memorable dress I can work like Tina Turner on a Proud Mary tour. I’d show you my legs, but as I said, they’re a work in progress.”
Isabel made a show of taking a big bite of a flaky croissant. “I don’t know, Had. I’m not sure any dress, designer or not, is worth missing out on one of these warm bad boys. It melts in your mouth. How do you get it to do that?” she asked Autumn.
Autumn shook her head. “Pajamas secret. Can’t tell you that.”
Isabel nodded in overly interested mode. “See, Had? They’re secret recipe pastries. Better get on it.”
Hadley blinked at her and then at the tray. Back to Isabel enjoying the croissant and then again to the tray. It was a Sophie’s Choice moment for the pastry books. “Hand me half of one.”
Autumn smiled and tore a croissant for Hadley. “You’re gorgeous already, by the way, dress or no dress.”
“Aww, you’re a very sweet enabler.” Hadley made a gesture as if to push it all aside. “Back to Olivia, queen of the solo orgasm.” She turned in happy greeting to her half croissant.
“Does that mean what I think it means?” Isabel asked. “The solo orgasm?”
“She could be selfish in bed,” Autumn said. “Or just overly sleepy. It was hard to tell.”
Gia leaned in. “She accepted what was given to her and moved the hell on, adding to her suckage.”
Isabel’s jaw fell. “I see why you broke up with her.”
The look on Autumn’s face dimmed. “I didn’t. She dumped me for the woman who owns the gym. And now they’re getting married, something I will never do,” she said with very little inflection in her voice. “I’ll probably die old and alone, standing behind that counter right there, begging people to buy coffee from the old coffee lady.”
They all followed Autumn’s gaze to the spot in question, prompting Steve, who stood there, to wave happily. Of course, they all waved back at him.
Isabel shook her head. “You’re too awesome to die alone, Old Coffee Lady. I’ll die with you. Fuck it. We can be spinsters united in dreary.”
Gia shook her head. “I don’t really think you’re gonna be alone either, Iz. Not the way your pal Taylor was cruising you the other night on the beach. I needed a fire extinguisher.”
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