Taylor had to laugh. “Right. That did happen.”
“I’ve had friends here or there, acquaintances, but my life in LA is already so much bigger than it was back home. I’m…grateful. For the new friends, for my job. For…you.”
“You’re sweet when you want to be,” Taylor said, watching her.
“Don’t tell people that. I have a rep.”
“Your rep is safe with me. Honestly though, Iz, you should be proud of yourself. You’ve only been here a handful of months and you’ve already accomplished a lot.”
“Including falling into bed with my idol, who also happens to be an amazing person, lo and behold.”
Taylor paused. “I’m your idol?” That was new information.
“Pshhh.” Isabel dug into her pancakes, her cheeks flashing pink. “You know you are. You’ve already accomplished everything I’ve been dreaming about for years.”
Taylor was aware of the fast-track career she’d led. In fact, she prided herself on it. Yet hearing Isabel compliment her hit from a whole new angle. She felt herself inflate. “I didn’t know you felt that way. Thank you. But if you keep working, churning out those ideas and executing the way you have, you could easily do the same. It’s only a matter of time.”
Isabel sat back in her chair and shook her head. “There’s nothing I want more. Except maybe to eat tons of these pancakes in the future.”
“You like them? It’s my one culinary gift handed down from my Grandpa Joe.”
“Well, Grandpa Joe was no slouch.”
“He’d be happy to know you think so. Grabbed life by the horns kind of a guy. And I don’t mean to get off topic, but you have peanut butter sauce on the side of your mouth right now.” Taylor smiled at the look of horror that crisscrossed Isabel’s face mid-bite.
“See?” Isabel said, sinking. She set down her fork and grabbed her napkin. “Again, beyond awkward, even when I think I’m being suave.” She took several quick passes at her cheek, which only smeared the sauce.
Taylor smiled because Isabel really was endearing, and funny, and captivating.
“No? I didn’t get it?”
“No.”
“What a disaster. Of course I didn’t.” A sigh. “I’ll be right back.”
Taylor held up a hand. “No, no, no. I can help.” She leaned into Isabel’s space and very lightly licked the sauce from Isabel’s cheek. Without missing a beat, Isabel picked up a glob from her plate and wiped it on the other side of her face.
“Oh, you’re bad,” Taylor said, leaning in happily to repeat the action. Just as she pulled away, however, Isabel caught her mouth with a kiss, and an incredibly sensual one, too. She sank into it automatically, all parts of her vibrating. She had things to do that day. Calls to make, scripts to read, and budgets to review, but that kiss had her willing to postpone every part of her life for more time with Isabel. She smiled against Isabel’s mouth as she felt a firm tug on the belt of her robe. Apparently, she wasn’t alone in that sentiment.
Thank God, she thought as the robe parted.
*****
It turned out that Taylor’s bedroom was grayish blue in its color scheme, spacious, with a vaulted ceiling and skylight. Isabel knew this because she stared up at it from flat on her back on Taylor’s bed. She’d just been led, once again, on a field trip to Orgasm Nation and wasn’t sure she ever wanted to leave this place.
“We’re good together in bed,” Taylor mused, coming down from her own little excursion. “Or maybe it’s just you.”
“It’s us,” Isabel said, blinking to clear her head from all the powerful sensations that still accosted her body. She tickled Taylor’s shoulder as she took in her surroundings. “You have huge windows,” she said, still breathless. Taylor followed her gaze from her spot alongside Isabel.
“The views are what sold me on this house.”
Isabel pushed herself up on her elbow and stared. “You’re looking down on all of Los Angeles. As in, all of it. I’m pretty sure you own Hollywood from this spot.”
Taylor smiled lazily and slid her thigh between Isabel’s. “The way you just owned me?”
Isabel liked the sound of that. “Exactly. Yes. That’s what I’m known for, owning exceptionally good-looking women on the daily.” She paused, reflecting on the lunacy of that statement. “I’m out of my league here, you know that?”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“You are. I’m just a girl from small-town New Hampshire.” She kissed Taylor. “But for fuck’s sake, I really like you.”
Taylor chuckled. “Well, for fuck’s sake, I really like you back.”
“And right now,” Isabel said, “I don’t care about your league. I’ll punch your league in the face and run away with you forever.”
“Do you know what I want?” Taylor asked. “I want to know more about you. Everything. I’m glad there’s time for that.” She trailed several fingers across Isabel’s skin, tickling her stomach. “How is anyone’s skin this soft?”
“No sun up north. We hibernate like bears to escape the snow, leaving our skin white and untouched.” She placed their arms next to each other. “Notice the difference. I’ve been here months and I still don’t have anything close to a tan.” Taylor, however, glowed healthily. “It’s that forever pool you have out there.”
Taylor quirked an eyebrow. “Do you mean the infinity pool?”
“That one.”
“I like to read alongside it for work.”
“See right there? That’s really glamorous. I don’t know what you’re doing with me. You should kick me out. Right away. Call your doorman.”
“I don’t have one.”
“Well, that’s an outrage,” Isabel said, getting louder. “Every infinity pool should come with a damn doorman.”
“I’ll make a note.” Taylor kissed her deeply and murmured one word. “Shower.”
“Fine. Okay,” Isabel said grumpily. “I guess I could join you in the detailed marble shower. But then I gotta jet. I have important scripts to write.”
Another kiss. “Because you’re going to be a famous screenwriter.”
“And get my own doorman-pool guy. You can come over.”
“Deal.” Taylor pulled herself away and in glorious naked form walked to the bathroom with the kind of confidence Isabel would kill for. Well, if she had a body like that, she wouldn’t have to. Taylor turned around and crooked her finger in a come-hither that had Isabel’s blood running hot once again.
Two memorable hours later, and Isabel really did have to go. Not only did she not want to overstay her welcome, but things between her and Taylor were still new and uncharted, and as such, required a delicate hand. In other words, she was careful to give Taylor space just in case she had any second thoughts or doubts.
“Will I see you tomorrow?” Isabel asked from the entryway. Post-sex good-byes had always been awkward in Isabel’s experience, but this time felt entirely different. She and Taylor grinned easily at each other and the mood was light. Dare she say, hopeful? They’d packed her clothes from the night before in a small backpack, and she borrowed shorts and a shirt to wear home.
“You will see me tomorrow. I should be around in the afternoon after a production meeting over at Sister Dale. Maybe we can steal a late lunch?”
“You’re on. But don’t expect me to eat any wimpy salad.”
“I wouldn’t dream of offending your respect for greasy diner food.”
Isabel stared at her serious-faced. “We’re gonna get along just fine.”
“What’s this?” a voice asked from down the walk. They turned to see Aspen making her way toward them, her blue Porsche parked low on the driveway. She pulled her sunglasses from her face and glanced from Taylor to Isabel, her eyes hard and her lips pursed tight.
“Isabel was heading home,” Taylor said calmly. “What can I do for you? I thought we talked about calling first.”
“I would have if I hadn’t left my handbag here last night. The one containing
my phone. But I see I’ve interrupted your sad little morning after. Your standards aren’t what they used to be, Tay. But then again, people change.”
Isabel felt about two feet tall but held her composure. “I’ll see you soon,” she said evenly to Taylor, who squeezed her hand.
“Don’t let me stop you,” Aspen said innocently and made a sweeping gesture with her hand to the sidewalk. “Walk of shame is that way.”
Okay, so that’s how it was going to be. Isabel swallowed, her defenses flaring. Yet no good would come of a confrontation with this woman. She could squash Isabel like a bug at any given point. No. Best to maneuver this as gracefully as possible. “I’ll call you,” she told Taylor, who nodded solemnly back. Oh, that was not an encouraging sign.
“Of course you will,” she heard Aspen say, in a patronizing tone, behind her. So, the friendly pretense was effectively gone. She could handle that. Wouldn’t make work at all weird or difficult. She deflated in the realization that this thing with Taylor came with more angles than even she realized. Didn’t matter, she decided as she slid into her boring and basic Honda. She wouldn’t let Aspen ruin her high from the past twenty-four hours. Everything would be all right. She glanced up the drive to the two beautiful and successful women who seemed involved in a deep and important conversation. Her stomach turned uncomfortably.
As she drove back to Venice, Isabel tried not to imagine all the ways Aspen would slam her to Taylor, make her look like a child who’d stumbled into the big kids’ playground. She refused to believe that she was a rebound or a subplot to the larger relationship in Taylor’s life: Aspen. But then again, she’d seen this story play out a hundred times in popular narratives. The main couple fought like cats and dogs, proclaimed the relationship unhealthy and over, only to fall madly back in love with each other, the tumultuous ride a big part of their dynamic. Some couples longed for drama and conflict. It’s what got them going. Maybe that was Taylor and Aspen.
Nope. She wouldn’t let herself go there. She would not be the cliché. Isabel placed a hand briefly over her heart and allowed herself to wonder just how long it would be until it was broken in two over Taylor Andrews.
Chapter Seventeen
Isabel and Hadley sat in the courtyard two evenings later, enjoying the last of the warm temperatures before winter would creep in. The night sky overhead looked cobalt and calm, which juxtaposed nicely with the swirling complications of Isabel’s heart and mind. She utilized the serenity of the evening as a much-needed decompression from a week riddled with debilitating panic attacks. She did her best to understand their source and what, exactly, had her crouched in closets, restrooms, and her car waiting for the terror to pass. The best she could come up with was the night she’d spent with Taylor and how fantastic it had been. For the first time in as long as she could remember, there was someone in her life who she could truly see herself falling for.
It was exciting and scary and wonderful and awful at the exact same time because she wasn’t quite sure how to manage the risk. If the new job had brought the first wave of attacks, she’d say her relationship with Taylor had taken them to a whole new level.
It had her concerned, to say the least.
In addition to her own problems, her work week hadn’t been so hot either. Scruffy had argued against every suggestion anyone had for him, making the process a lengthy one. While Isabel adored her, Kathleen didn’t have the courage to go head-to-head with Scruffy, leaving them sorely lacking in the leadership department.
Hadley, similarly, had worked a full day at Silhouette doing inventory, a task she apparently hated more than rain on weekends. She had her foot resting flat on the edge of the couch and did her toenails in a striking bright blue while they chatted.
“Your outfit the other night, was it a hit?” Hadley asked. “Since I couldn’t be there, you owe me at least a few details in payback.”
Isabel smiled as she realized once again how very important fashion was to Hadley Cooper. “The dress. The look. It was all well received. It turns out, your sense of style was not oversold.”
“What did they say? Tell me what they said.”
“Well, the nod to old-school Hollywood was lost on no one.” She chose to omit the snarky comment from Aspen and spare Had’s feelings, as it had more to do with taking a cheap shot at Isabel than the dress itself.
“What did Taylor think? I think our target audience carries the most weight.”
Isabel looked skyward and concentrated on hiding the blush she felt threatening. Damn it, she was losing that battle handily. “I believe the word ‘beautiful’ was used more than once.”
Hadley placed a hand over her heart. “Well, of course it was. She’s so into you, Iz. I could tell on the beach, and this is just further confirmation.”
Maybe it was because Hadley had already become such a great friend in a short amount of time, but the words fell from her lips before she’d even decided to say them. “I stayed over.”
Hadley stared at her for several long moments and slowly placed the bottle of nail polish on the table. “I’m sorry. Did you just say that you stayed at Taylor’s house that night? With her? You slept with Taylor? Had,” she glanced around and then whispered, “sex?”
“Aww, you’re cute. You can’t say the word.”
Hadley balked. “Can too. Sex.” Only she whispered it again. “Damn it.”
Isabel laughed. “I’ve never met anyone who couldn’t say ‘sex.’ I have to write this into a character somewhere.” She typed a quick note into her phone.
“That’s fine,” Hadley said. “But it won’t be based on me because sex happens to be one of my favorite things next to bunnies and salted caramel. There.”
Isabel wagged her finger. “No. You whispered it again.”
“I didn’t!”
“I’m afraid so.”
“Man.” Hadley wiggled her body into the couch in annoyance as Isabel grinned. “Anyway, we shouldn’t be talking about me anyway. I want to get back to you and your forbidden office romance. When’s the wedding? I would be thrilled to help design. I’m already envisioning colors. I hear you’re a huge fan of the Southwestern motif.”
“Funny, very funny. First of all, no wedding. Second of all, I don’t even know that you can categorize what’s happening between us as a romance. I was hopeful you could. I still am, but…it’s complicated.”
Hadley sat forward. “I’m good at helping people work through things.”
Isabel nodded. “I’m starting to think that I’m the obstacle between the real romance, her and her ex.”
“Aspen Wakefield.”
“Right.”
“You realize that sounds more like the TV show you write for than real life?” Hadley asked.
“Where do you think writers draw inspiration from for those kinds of things?”
Hadley studied her. “Good point.”
“And how am I supposed to compete with someone like Aspen anyway?” Isabel asked, getting riled up just thinking about it. “The woman is God’s gift to lesbians everywhere, provided no one has to actually interact with her for too many days in a row.”
“That part’s true,” Hadley said, nodding too emphatically. “She’s dreamy. And sometimes the right brand of crazy can be hot.”
“That’s the problem. She’s dreamy and crazy. Don’t get me started on her boobs. I’m guessing they’re fake but still. You should see them.”
“What? I’m sorry. You’ve seen her boobs and this is the first you’re mentioning it?” Hadley looked around the courtyard as if to see to whom she could report this injustice. “Why didn’t you start with that? Why didn’t you knock on my door the moment it happened?”
Isabel shook her head. “The boobs are fabulous, trust me. But the incident in which I encountered them wasn’t. Honestly, it was a creepy moment to walk in on. She surprised Taylor in her office, the door wasn’t locked, and there I was in the middle of it.” She shuddered. “Bottom line, she makes me feel li
ke a dusty Honda in a sea of Porsches, and that’s not even a euphemism. It’s literally my truth.”
“That’s lunacy.” Hadley’s eyes were kind when she said it, her tone soft. “I’ve met Taylor. She seems down-to-earth and solid. If I had to guess, I’d say Aspen has nothing on you.”
“And now I know you’re not only one of the nicest people I’ve ever met but also a liar.”
Hadley pushed on. “You honestly don’t get how great you are, do you? I’ve known you for going on three months and I can say that easily. You’re a catch, Iz, and you should know it.”
The words took root and blossomed as she sat there. Isabel had never been more grateful for a pep talk in her life. While Hadley was a very nice person, she also wasn’t a ridiculous one and wouldn’t fill her head with nonsense just to do so. Knowing that she saw something, well…worthy in Isabel had her glowing. She wondered if it showed.
“What’s going on down there?” a voice from above asked. They lifted their heads to see Gia leaning over the railing.
“Where have you been?” Hadley asked. “You’re missing so much.”
Gia shook her head in regret. “I fell asleep. Waves were all over the place today and I got beat to hell. What’s the dish?”
“Iz saw Aspen Wakefield’s boobs. They’re apparently amazing.”
Gia’s face fell. “Now I’m sore and intrigued. I hate missing stuff. Especially celebrity boob sightings.”
“We can catch you up at breakfast,” Hadley said. “You need anything?”
“Elle Britton’s retirement announcement,” Gia said dully. “Can you make that happen?”
Isabel looked to Hadley. “And who exactly is Elle Britton?”
“Number one in the world,” Hadley told her. “Gia’s been chasing her ranking for years and is not a fan.”
“No can do, champ,” Hadley called back up. “But we can make fun of her perky princess persona together.”
“That might be fun,” Gia said glumly, thinking this over. “Maybe tomorrow morning at Pajamas when I get the boob story. Gonna jump in an ice bath now.”
Eyes Like Those Page 21