by Stacy Wise
Chapter Sixteen
I have a batch of double chocolate cupcakes sitting in my passenger seat. When I got home last night, I went straight to the kitchen, not even bothering to take off my costume. I told Shawn I’d bake him something, and last night seemed like the perfect time. Of course, now it seems like the worst thing I could’ve done, because I stayed up past one. It’s going to be a challenge to keep my eyes open and my body in an upright position today.
I pull into Jack’s driveway and slide out of my car. Shawn has a stopwatch in hand, and Jack is flipping a tire on the grass along the side of the house.
“Good morning, Jess,” Shawn says, turning to me. “How’s it going?”
“Hey.” I take my cupcakes, in all their chocolaty glory, from the car and walk over.
He looks from the pan to me. “Good God. You made these?”
“Yep. Guilty.”
He eyes me up and down, not bothering to be subtle about it. “You look like that and bake like this?”
Maybe I should feel offended, but the truth is, I’m flattered. “You can have one now, if you want. They’re yours.”
He gives me a playful grin. “I do want. Thank you.” He plucks a cupcake from the pan and licks the frosting, never taking his gaze from mine. I don’t know whether to laugh or grab the cupcake from his hand and shove my tongue down his throat. There’s no denying he’s hot. I bet he could make me forget all about last night and Jack’s kiss.
As if on cue, a sweaty Jack steps over, breathing hard. “Dude. This is your idea of training me? Hanging out eating a…” He looks at the cupcake in Shawn’s hand. “You’re eating a fucking cupcake?”
Shawn shoves the entire thing in his mouth. “You have no proof of that,” he says while chewing.
This time, I do laugh. Jack catches my eye and shakes his head. “I’m so firing his sorry ass.”
“You’re firing no one. Are we on for tomorrow first thing?”
“Yes, asshole.”
Shawn turns to me and whispers, “He wouldn’t be such a dick if he ate one of your cupcakes. I think I’m in love.” He taps a hand over his heart. “Just saying.”
I laugh. “You flatter me.”
“I try.” He turns back to Jack. “See you later, man.”
Jack throws a hand up in a wave. He waits until Shawn’s halfway down the driveway before he takes a hesitant step closer to me. “So, about last night…are we good?” His eyes have that inquisitive look, making him seem sincere.
“Yes, we’re fine.”
He nods, almost seeming contrite. But God knows he’s probably had years of practice getting out of sticky situations.
As we walk to the house, he begins talking in a voice that seems too formal, like he’s unsure if I meant what I said and he’s being extra cautious. “I have a few things I need you to take care of today. I have a premiere tonight, and I need my clothes picked up from my stylist. I’ll text you her address. But before you do that, can you order a gift for my sister? Her birthday is in a week.”
“Okay. Any suggestions?” I ask with a smile, trying to lighten his mood.
He blows out a breath. “Flowers for sure. Order them from Flowers in Bloom. Lilies are her favorite.”
“Lilies,” I repeat as I type into my phone. “Is the florist in L.A.?”
“No. Austin, Texas. That’s where she lives,” he says, sounding more like himself. “And there’s a jewelry store she likes out there. It’s called Belle and Casey. Check out their webpage and see if you can find something cool. I’m terrible at picking jewelry, so I’m trusting you on this one. Let me know when you find something, and I’ll come take a look before you order it. I need to finish reading a new scene I got last night.”
He heads down the hallway to his room with Leo pattering after him. I hunker down in front of a laptop and open the jewelry store’s homepage, looking through the necklaces first. I always love getting necklaces. I rarely buy them for myself, unless they’re cheap costume jewelry. There are so many styles to choose from. I don’t have a clue what his sister would like. This may be tough.
I continue scrolling, and come across a selection of pink gold disks encrusted with tiny diamonds in the shape of Zodiac signs. I’ve never seen anything like them. I check the price—eight hundred dollars for the charm alone. Geez. I don’t know if he intends to spend that much, but just in case, I check the calendar and see that his sister is a Scorpio. I click on the Capricorn charm, too, curious to see what my sign looks like. It’s beautiful. I wish I could afford to get it for myself.
I reduce the Capricorn page and add an eighteen-inch thin gold chain to the shopping cart to go with the charm. I’m about to text him to come look, but decide to find a less expensive alternative. There’s a simple gold necklace with an infinity sign hanging from it for two hundred dollars. Funny how two hundred dollars sounds reasonable now. I send Jack a quick text, letting him know I’m set.
Moments later, he pads in, wearing reading glasses. “That was fast.”
I try to hide the smile that sneaks onto my face. He looks really cute in glasses. He’s normally such a guy’s guy, but the glasses make him look scholarly. He sits on the bench next to me, and I turn the laptop to him, both necklaces on the screen. “What do you think?”
“I love the diamond one. What is that?”
“Her Zodiac sign. She’s a Scorpio.”
“Ah. She’s totally into that stuff. She’ll love it. I knew you’d find something cool.”
I shrug. “It’s what I would’ve gotten myself. But it’s more expensive than the other one. Like way more expensive.”
He looks at the price without batting an eye. “It’s for my sister. She means the world to me.” He clicks on the necklace, looking at all the different thumbnails of it. “Yeah, this one is perfect.” He continues to click, and shit! He opens the Capricorn charm image. Oh, hell. I wasn’t supposed to be shopping for myself.
“What’s this?”
I let out a nervous laugh. “Nothing, really. I wanted to see what my sign looks like.”
“Capricorn. Is that what you are?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“Huh. When’s your birthday?”
“December twenty-fifth.”
“No shit? A Christmas birthday.”
“Yep.”
“That’s really cool. Okay. Let me get you Janelle’s address,” he says as he pulls his phone from his pocket. “Here it is. Give them a call and ask if they’ll deliver it next Tuesday.”
“Okay.” I’m sure the store doesn’t usually deliver, but they will for Jack. Every time I do an errand for him—it doesn’t matter what it is—as soon as his name is out of my mouth, store clerks are practically tripping over themselves to help, or throwing extras my way.
He shoves his hand in his pocket and pulls out a weathered leather wallet. “Here’s my Amex.”
I sneak a glance at it. His production company’s name is on the card. Of course. No wonder he handed it over without a privacy speech.
“Have them sign the card, ‘All my love, Jack.’”
“No problem.”
He strides off, and I dial the jewelry store. When a salesgirl answers, I explain who I am and what I would like. Before I can ask, she offers to wrap it and attach a card. They’ll deliver it first thing Tuesday morning.
I finish the flower order and send Jack another text, letting him know that everything will be delivered Tuesday. He texts back, Thanks. I’ll text my stylist to let her know ur on ur way.
I grab my keys and purse off the counter and head for the door. Jack jogs down the hall toward me. “Can you make sure she includes the photos?”
“Uh, yeah, sure.” I have no idea what the photos are for, but I don’t ask.
“Cool.” He starts to head back to his room but turns. “Hey, I have a couple of passes to the premiere if you want to go with a friend. It’s Dylan Zane’s new film.” He smiles. “The guy who gave me the composter.”
Every thought in my head comes to a screeching halt. In the cartoon version of me, I’d be on a bicycle, flying down a hill, skidding to a stop mid-hill. Whoa! Did Jack actually just invite me to a freaking movie premiere? “That sounds like fun. Thank you.”
“No prob. You should show up around six. The movie starts at six thirty. I’m getting picked up around five, so you can take off then. It’s at the Bruin Westwood.”
Well that’s not ironic or anything. Collision of my old world and new world happening tonight. I wonder if I’ll see anyone from school. “I know the area. Thanks. And, um, what would one wear to a movie premiere, just out of curiosity? I haven’t been since I was a kid.”
Jack looks at me and deadpans, “Probably not a Lara Croft costume.”
I stare at him, daring him to say anything else about my stupid costume.
“It’s kind of like going to a wedding. The stars of the movie are like the bride and groom, and the guests look nice but aren’t as dressed up as the happy couple.”
“Got it.”
As soon as I step outside, I speed-dial Meg’s work number. When it rings, I start to think about how wrong it was of me to use her as my excuse to leave last night. I know Kolbi was only trying to be a good friend, but the bottom line is she doesn’t know Meg well. She doesn’t understand her sense of humor. And she certainly has no clue what her childhood was like. Meg’s like a sister to me. She practically lived at my house our senior year. And besides, she’s the only one who knows I work for Jack.
She answers just as I’m preparing to leave a message. “This is Meg.”
“Hey, I’m so glad you picked up. Are you free to see Dylan Zane’s new movie tonight?”
“Hell yeah, I’m free for Dylan Zane!” she whisper yells into the phone.
“I figured you would be. I bet Dylan Zane trumps Ethan from the elevator.”
“Not even a contest. This is amazing. Will Jack be going with us?”
I laugh. “No. He just gave me the passes. Can you meet me in Westwood at around six?”
“Done! What are you wearing? I can’t wear my work clothes. Maybe I’ll hit the Beverly Center at lunch. Are you going home first?”
I smile at her excitement. “I don’t know. It depends on when I can leave. I’m going to have to figure something out, too. If we don’t get the chance to talk before, it’s at the Bruin. Don’t be late.”
I make a right onto Robertson Boulevard and find the stylist’s address without any trouble. The door to the shop is open, and I peek in. It looks like the dance studio I went to as a little girl, but instead of ballerinas covering the polished wood floors, there are garment racks scattered across it. A voice trills, “Enter, s’il vous plait.”
I walk in, wondering if she actually speaks French or just knows a few basics. I call, “Merci, je le ferai!”
A petite woman, who appears to be in her early thirties, marches to the door, looking like she’s going to snap the heels from her pretty shoes. “May I help you?” she asks, a frustrated edge to her voice.
“Hi,” I say, smiling. “I’m Jessica. I’m here to pick up Jack McAlister’s clothing.”
“You’re his assistant?”
“Yeah.”
“Well good for him,” she says. “It’s about time. I’m Summer, by the way.” She holds out a hand.
“Jessica. Nice to meet you.” I take in her blond hair pulled back into a thick headband, and decide that she looks like a Summer, minus the sunny disposition. She’s wearing a denim shirtdress cinched at the waist with an amazing brown leather belt that fastens with a tarnished bronze buckle.
I follow her to the back of the shop, where she finds Jack’s clothing.
“Jack asked if you could please include the photos, too.”
She stops and turns to me. “Did he really say please, or did you add that?”
“Uh, now that you mention it, I don’t remember.”
“Yeah, that’s not a word I hear often. You should’ve been here ten minutes ago. You would’ve witnessed the devil incarnate. I shouldn’t say that about a client, but some people are downright rude. I usually don’t mind—it’s an industry where everyone needs everything yesterday—but this client went too far.”
“I’ve seen a bit of that myself. It really sucks. It’s not that hard to be nice, right?”
She cocks her head. “Right. I have a feeling Jack’s lucky to have you.” She rifles through a stack of manila envelopes on her desk and finds the one she’s looking for. “So the Dylan Zane film tonight, huh? It’s already getting a lot of Oscar buzz.”
“Yeah. Jack actually invited me to bring a friend to it.”
She hands me the envelope with Jack’s name written in neat letters across the top. “Well, that’s nice of him. What are you going to wear?”
I look down at my dark jeans and gray twinset. “Hopefully not this. It doesn’t exactly scream ‘movie premiere,’ does it?”
“It’s not like all the guests at premieres dress up. Some are underdressed.” She pauses. “But you know what? There’s no reason for you to show up looking less than amazing, right?”
“Yeah, I wish. Any ideas on how to transform this into something amazing?”
“Oh, I have a lot of ideas. It’s what I do,” she says with a smile. “Follow me.”
I’m not sure where she’s going with this, but I follow her like a puppy trailing a trainer with a treat.
She reaches a rack stuffed full of gorgeous designer clothing. “You’re about a four, right?”
I nod as she flips through the rack. She holds up a navy blue dress and assesses it. “Nope. Something less tailored, more romantic. Hang on.” She puts it back and glides to another rack. I can’t stop myself from leafing through the clothes in front of me. There are pieces by top designers and some that I’ve never heard of. They’re probably so exclusive that us normal folks could never dream of wearing them. Everything looks rich and well made. Even the jeans feel different.
Summer returns with a lovely winter-white dress that hangs long in back and short in the front. A mullet dress, I think. But it looks nothing like a tacky mullet. It’s stunning.
“This is by a new designer, Katie Cooper, out of L.A. She does the most amazing things with hemlines. Her dresses are so feminine and pretty. I see this with shoe boots and lots of dainty gold necklaces worn in layers. What do you think?”
“Are you kidding me? This is amazing. Are you sure?”
“Yeah. You renewed my faith in human kindness, so why not? Go try it on. You can use the dressing room over there.” She points to a door across the room.
I hold the dress like it’s made of glass as I walk to the dressing room, mentally pinching myself to prove this is really happening. I pull off my clothes and set them on the plush chair by the wall. I’m careful to open the zipper all the way down to the bottom, so I don’t rip anything. The dress slides on easily, and I pull up the zipper. I turn to look in the mirror. The neckline plunges just enough to show a hint of cleavage, and the dress tapers across my body as though it were cut especially for me. I step out of the dressing room.
“Yes! I knew this would be the perfect dress. It fits you beautifully. See how tiny your waist looks?” Summer hands me a pair of light brown shoe boots made of buttery soft suede. “Slip these on. I prefer boots rather than heels with this. It’ll give you an effortless look.”
I step into the boots and turn to see myself in the mirror. “This is amazing. I love it. I don’t know how to thank you.” My smile is so big I think my face may split in two.
“You look gorgeous.” She gives me a thorough appraisal. “Okay, go with a sleek low ponytail for your hair. Stick with warm browns for your eyes. Maybe a thin bit of black liner just at the lashes to make your eyes pop. Don’t go thick with it.”
“Okay. I can do that.” I pull my hair back to see what I’ll look like with the ponytail. I think she’s right. It’ll look good. “You’re too kind. Thank you so much.” I pause. “Um, how m
uch is this, by the way? I got so excited I didn’t even think to ask. I don’t know that I’ll be able to afford it.”
She smiles at me. “First of all, you’re welcome. Second, I get samples from designers all the time that I lend out. No cost involved. Now, let me grab you some necklaces. Follow me.”
I walk with her to a small room that holds a long table filled with accessories. They’re all organized, as if it were a jewelry store. She takes some necklaces off a jewelry stand. “Here you go.” She slips the long necklaces over my head and fastens a shorter one around my neck. “No earrings. Just these.” She places a large, stretchy-banded, gold oval ring on my right ring finger. “And this. Perfect.” She stands back to assess me again. “Yes. This is a great look for you.”
“Thank you. I never could’ve put this together myself.”
“Ah, I wish even one of my clients was as grateful as you. This was fun.”
I smile at her. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I hope Jack is happy with everything. Have him call me if he has any questions.”
“I will.” As I head back to the changing room, I ask, “Do you need this back tomorrow?”
“I only need the jewelry back. You should keep the rest.”
I can’t stop my mouth from falling open. “No way. I can’t keep all this.”
“Of course you can. I insist. I was ready to pull off the arms of my mannequin and beat someone with them before you came in, so thanks.”
After putting my regular clothes back on, I give Summer a quick hug and gather my bags, along with Jack’s things. “I don’t know how much Jack pays you, but you deserve a raise. He’s lucky to have you.”
“Tell him that, will you?” She grins. “Have fun.”
I rush to my car, adrenaline pulsing through me.
Chapter Seventeen
I arrive at the Bruin Westwood and see Meg near the corner. She crosses the street, and I’m amazed at the way she can jog in her heels. She’s wearing a super-short black dress that leaves little to the imagination.
“Hey.” I reach out to hug her. “I’m so happy you could make it.” We round the corner to the theater and take in all the people.