by Stacy Wise
“This is awesome. Do we have passes to go to the front? The line looks insane.”
“I’m not sure. Jack said to find an usher, and he would tell us where to go.”
She looks from the line to my clothing, a critical expression on her face. “I’ve never seen that before. Did you go shopping?”
“No. I didn’t have time. Jack’s stylist put this together for me. She was super sweet.”
She scans me up and down. “So how does that work? Did you have to pay for it, or did you put it on Jack’s tab?”
“Neither. She gave it all to me. Can you believe it?”
“No. I really can’t.” She raises an eyebrow. “Well, it’s the perfect dress for you. I couldn’t pull it off because my boobs would burst out of it, but it’s cute on you.”
“Thanks.”
Kolbi’s words blare like an alarm in my head: jealous, jealous, warped. I’m distracted from my thoughts when cheers and applause erupt through the cool night. Jack emerges from a black SUV. He steps onto the red carpet, his hand held up in a wave.
“There’s your boss. Think he’ll acknowledge you?”
I roll my eyes. “No.”
Jack makes his way up the red carpet. He looks handsome. Summer selected a beautiful gray suit with a pale blue dress shirt and slim gray tie. I try to notice what’s different between the picture she gave me and the real live version of Jack. My eyes fall to his shoes, and I smile to myself. He ditched the dress shoes and chose his Converse All Stars. It’s actually kind of charming. Effortless, as Summer said. I’m startled when I see that he’s looking at me. Or maybe it’s not me. He looks like he’s mesmerized by something. I turn my head, expecting to see someone gorgeous, like Amanda Seyfried, standing behind me, but there’s only a mob of fans. I look back to him. He holds up his hand in a slight wave, his eyes never leaving mine.
“He did not just do that, did he?”
“What? You mean wave?” I ask, trying to hide the fact that his gaze just dissolved my insides.
“Yes. He totally waved to you.”
“I guess so.”
“You said he wouldn’t acknowledge you.”
“Well, I assumed he wouldn’t. I didn’t think he’d notice me with all these people here.” I shrug it off, but my heart is beating at a dangerous rate.
“Hmm. I guess so. Are you going to introduce me tonight since he seems all chummy?”
“Sure. If we see him at the end, I’ll introduce you. Don’t hold your breath, though. He may be swarmed by reporters or something.”
“I’m sure he’ll take a second to say hi. He just did.”
“Come on. We need to go in.” I take Meg’s hand and lead her toward the first usher I see.
He glances at our passes and waves us through. I hide my surprise, not wanting to appear uncool. We avoid the line that snakes onto the sidewalk, and walk right in. Another usher inside leads us to a set of seats that are marked off by masking tape. He pulls it up and lets us step in. Wow. Jack must’ve given us some super VIP passes. As much as I don’t want to show it, I’m giddy. This really is cool. I silently thank Summer for making sure I didn’t show up looking like a dork.
“Look!” Meg whispers. “There’s Corinne Dahl. She’s right there.” She covers her mouth with her hand. “Check it out! Is that Jack with her? Did they come together?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“He seems like a player. I thought he was dating that other actress.”
Meg’s curiosity bugs me. I know she’s asking just because she wants to be in the know. I, on the other hand, wonder, well, because he’s my boss. My boss who kissed me last night.
Meg cranes her neck to look up the aisle and then shoves her elbow in my ribs. “Look! It’s Dylan Zane. Oh, man. Look. At. Him.” She sighs. “Who do you think is hotter? Jack or Dylan?”
“I’m not sure.” Jack.
“You’re no fun. I think Dylan is prettier. Jack is fucking hot. That strong jaw combined with his sexy smile… And those freaking eyes. He’s delish. Do you think he’ll leave with Corinne Dahl?”
“I have no idea. Maybe.”
“Did he say anything about a date?”
“God no. I told you. He barely talks to me. He’s not going to start telling me about his love life.”
“Aren’t you at all curious?” She eyes me like I’m from another planet.
“Not really.”
“I find it fascinating.”
“You seem way too fixated on his dating life. Maybe you should ask him.”
“Maybe I will.” She settles into her chair, looking satisfied with herself.
The theater fills up, and the director stands to give a short speech. Meg isn’t really watching the director. Her eyes are fixed on the back of Jack’s head. I guess she wasn’t joking when she said she thinks he’s fucking hot. It shouldn’t bug me, but it does.
“I’m going to run to the bathroom since he’s wrapping up,” I whisper to her.
“Go for it.”
I squeeze out of the row and head to the bathroom. When I reach the lobby, I realize my purse is still under my seat. Oh, well. I’m sure my makeup is fine. The bathroom is crowded with women who look like they jumped from the pages of fashion magazines. A tall woman with garish red lips exits a stall and eyes me with a dismissive glance. When she leaves, I peek in the bathroom mirror, checking for smudged makeup or a visible bra strap, but all is in place. Maybe it’s her signature stare to make everyone around her feel inadequate. It strikes me that Meg has a similar look. When I return to my seat, the theater darkens, and I’m happy to slip into an imaginary world for a little while.
An hour and a half into the movie, Meg rises and whispers, “Bathroom.” I shift my legs to the side so she can pass. If I were her, I’d wait until the end. It’s the most exciting part of the movie. I settle back into my seat and refocus on the screen, but a few rows ahead of me, Jack stands and eases to the aisle. Heads turn, watching him. His jaw is tight, the way it gets when he’s worried. I wonder what’s bothering him. Maybe Corinne said something to upset him.
I glance down the aisle, checking for Meg, but it’s empty. Worry slithers through me. She’s been gone too long. A nagging feeling creeps up my spine. Maybe she’s suddenly sick or something. I sit for another minute, hoping she’ll return. When I can’t stand it any longer, I crouch across the row and duck up the aisle.
I push through the double doors, and as soon as I’m in the lobby, I see her. Talking to Jack. My body tenses. Did she bump into him on her way out of the bathroom and decide to introduce herself? God, I hope she isn’t quizzing him on his dating life.
The doors close silently behind me, and I inch forward. “Meg?”
She startles and spins to face me. “Jess! Hi…”
I cut her off. “You’ve been gone for a while so I thought I should check on you. Everything okay?”
Anger flashes in Jack’s eyes. “What the hell kind of game is this? Why did you text me?”
“I didn’t text you! What are you talking about?”
He practically shoves the screen of his phone in my face. “It’s from you. ‘Urgent. Meet me in lobby.’”
Try as I might, I can’t make my brain speed up. I feel like I’m slogging through mud. “But I didn’t send that.”
Meg laughs and steps forward. “Maybe she meant to send it to me. It’s hard to see in the dark. We should go back. We don’t want to miss the climax.” She sashays through the door, her exotic perfume leaving ghostly tendrils behind.
Jack steps close to me. Too close. His intense stare sends chills down my spine. “I can’t believe this. We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”
What?
Before shoving past me, he pauses. “You got it right tonight. You look like an angel.” His tone oozes with loathing, and my brain swims to align it with his sweet words. Before I can, he hisses, “Too bad looks are deceiving.”
I shift my gaze to the ground, unable to take the intens
ity of his eyes and the harshness of his words. The feel of his mouth so close to my ear makes me shiver.
His body brushes against mine as he slips into the theater. I stagger back against the door, leaning on the heavy barrier separating me from Jack, ignoring the curious looks from an usher. He averts his eyes and resumes sweeping tiny bits of popcorn from the ornate carpet. I want to yank the sweeper from his hand and demand that he confirm it’s clear I wasn’t lying. It’s obvious, right? Jack has to know. I press my hands to my eyes.
Whatever happened tonight, Meg was behind it. That much is certain. I have no desire to go back inside, but my purse is there. Just as I’m about to steal in to retrieve it, the usher wheels his sweeper in my direction. “Excuse me, ma’am. I can’t let you back in. The movie’s ending in a minute, and I need the doorway clear.” His apologetic tone feels like a kick in the shins.
All I can do is stand to the side and wait. Jack’s voice storms through my head. You look like an angel. I wish he would’ve stopped there. The rest of his words cut right through me.
Throngs of chatty people exit the doors, passing me by as though I’m just any girl, not the person who caused Jack McAlister unnecessary grief tonight. These people aren’t the paparazzi; they’re his peers. If they knew what happened, they’d probably demand my arrest. Or at least demand that I’m permanently removed from Hollywood. Meg paces through the door, my purse clutched in her hand as though it’s a huge encumbrance. She thrusts it at me. “Here you go. Your phone’s in there, too,” she says. “I took it when you went to the bathroom before the movie started.”
As we reach the sidewalk, I grab her arm, forcing her to stop. “You stole my phone? Are you kidding me?”
She huffs an annoyed sigh. “Don’t be dramatic. I borrowed it so I could text Jack. I don’t have his number, obviously. And if I used my phone, he wouldn’t have responded. I pretended I was you for one measly text so I could get him alone.” She smirks at my reaction. “Don’t look so surprised. I told you I wanted to meet him. You weren’t going to make it happen, so I took matters into my own hands. Anyway, I was about to fess up to him when you walked in like a little chaperone.”
My mouth drops open. “Don’t blame this on me! You crossed a line tonight.”
“Calm down. I didn’t do any harm. Jack was actually very sweet with me. He seemed flattered.”
“If that’s what you think flattered looks like, you’ve got a distorted sense of reality. He was furious. Rightly so. I hope you enjoyed your first and last movie premiere.”
“Seriously, Jess? Don’t be such a bitch. He was totally cool before you walked up. Where’s your sense of fun?” She has the nerve to look disappointed, like I’ve ruined her game. She picks up her pace, flipping her curls as she walks. “Maybe you stress him out.”
“Of course. That must be it.” The sarcasm slithers out, and I don’t have the will to control it. “Since he was totally cool with you, why don’t you wait for him? You guys can grab a beer together.” I flash a condescending smile. “On second thought, you can’t. He’s a top level and you’re not, so that’s out.”
“Touché.” Her tone softens, and she reaches for my hand. “Come on, Jess. Let it go. We’ll laugh about this tomorrow. You’re making too big a deal out of this.”
I stop walking. “Making too big a deal out of this? I could lose my job because of you, and you can’t even apologize.”
“He won’t fire you. Anyway, we’re like sisters. We let stuff roll off us.”
“Not this, Meg. It’s not rolling off me. I need this job.”
“Okay. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t do it again. I’ll chop your hand off in your sleep. They do that to thieves in certain countries, you know.”
“I won’t. I just wanted to meet Jack. I have now.” She tucks a loose curl behind her ear. “I seriously doubt I’ll be tempted to do anything like that again. Do you want me to call him and tell him it was all my idea?”
“Hell, no! I’m not joking about chopping off your hand. I have lots of kitchen tools that can get the job done. And I swear, if he fires me, you’re paying my rent for the next three months.”
She laughs. “Fine. You made your point.”
As I walk to my car, I try to make sense of Meg’s actions but can’t. A real friend never would’ve done that. My mind slinks back to the look on Jack’s face in the lobby. I bet that’s how he looked before punching the photographer in the face.
My heart beats double time. He’s going to fire me. I just wish we could’ve hashed it out tonight. Waiting until tomorrow is going to be torture.
Chapter Eighteen
I’m startled to see someone running up Jack’s driveway. Then I realize it’s him with a punching bag thrown over his shoulder. It must weigh at least fifty pounds. Scared I’ll hit him with my car, I leave a wide berth. God knows my spatial perception can’t be trusted after my sleepless night. I creep to a stop at the top of the driveway and watch him run back down as I step from my car. Shawn stands across the driveway. “Faster! Pick up your feet, slacker!”
I jog over to Shawn. He turns to me, wearing a conspiratorial grin. “Can you believe this guy?”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s a machine. I can push him harder than any of my clients.”
“Is he in a good mood today? He was scary pissed last night.”
He chuckles. “Yeah, I heard.”
My face burns. “What’d he say? Did it sound like he’s going to fire me?”
“Nah. I’m sure you’ll talk this morning.” Jack reaches the top of the driveway again, and Shawn claps with encouragement. “You got this, man. Two more times!”
Once he’s out of earshot, I whisper, “The thought of talking to him is making my stomach hurt.”
“Don’t worry about it. You’re a cool girl. He knows that.”
I shade my eyes from the sun and gaze at him. “Thanks. That’s nice of you to say.”
“I call it like I see it. I liked you the second I met you.”
Jack returns, huffy and sweaty, and slams the bag to the ground. “Are we done?”
“We’re done. Good work.”
Jack leans forward and slaps his hands onto his knees, catching his breath. Without warning, he rips off his shirt, wiping the sweat from his face. Holy hell. His beautiful ripped stomach grabs my attention. It looks even tighter than when I saw him in his bright orange swim trunks. I turn away before he realizes I’m staring.
“Hi, Jessica.” His voice is tight, and my pulse quickens.
“Hi. Looks like Shawn killed you today,” I say, trying for casual.
“I needed it.” He takes a swig of water from his Sigg and dumps what’s left over his head. That would make a hot ad for Sigg water bottles. He turns to Shawn. “You outta here?”
“Yep. Now I’ve gotta go deal with a pop star who whines like a young girl. Oh yeah, she is a young girl.”
“Good luck, man. See you later.” He shakes water from his head and mops it with his shirt, easing next to me like a lion toying with his prey. I avoid looking at him. It’s like he knows his body will distract me. Maybe that’s his go-to—he parades his insane body in front of women before he dumps them. Or fires them, in my case.
He rolls his shirt and drapes it around his neck as we walk to the house. I want to grab it and forcefully shove it over his head.
“Last night sucked.” He eyes me, waiting for a response.
“Yeah. I agree.” My words come in a rush as I scurry in behind him. “You know I didn’t give her your number, right? She stole my phone—took it right out of my purse.”
“That’s quite a story.”
“It’s the truth. I wouldn’t do that.”
He grabs a fresh T-shirt that’s folded on the back of the sofa and slips it on, keeping his eyes trained on me. “She’s your roommate, right?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t give her permission to take my phone.” Once we reach the kitchen, I set my purse
on the counter with too much force. Leo snorts from where he’s sacked out on the tile floor, gets up, and patters over to Jack. “I hate to say this, but it wouldn’t shock me if she kept your phone number. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if she sold it to a tabloid. I mean, I hope she wouldn’t, but at this point, I have no idea what she’d do. You might want to consider changing your number. I can list you under a different name in my contacts if you change it.” I realize I’m rambling and stop. I cross my arms in front of me, feeling so many emotions, I can’t pick out which one is strongest.
He offers up a half grin. “Interesting. What name would you choose? I’m curious.”
“I don’t know. Vern?” I bite my lip. Sarcasm isn’t the way to go, but when I’m under pressure, I say stupid things. My witty response to my high school Spanish teacher who assigned us an entire chapter to translate earned me time in detention.
“Vern? Don’t you think she’d be suspicious of a Vern in your contact list?”
The fight seeps out of me. It’d be easier if he would just end this slow torture.
“I don’t plan on letting her steal my phone again. But fine. How about Helen Smith? She’d never guess that I have you listed as a girl.”
“Helen? She sounds like she wears clogs.”
“Fine. Angelica Somerset? That’s a great female name. She sounds sexy.”
“More like a porn star.” He laughs and starts dumping ingredients for a smoothie into the blender. “Pick your name. I already changed my number. Here’s why.” He slides his phone to me. “She sent me this late last night.”
Oh my God! I’m face-to-phone-screen with Meg’s hand cupping her boobs, as if they’re wares she’s offering at an open-air market. I look to Jack, unable to cover my shock. “She sent this to you?”
“Yep. Along with a few others.”
“What the hell is wrong with her?” How could she do that…especially knowing I was in the room next to hers? I pass the phone back to him. “I can’t look.”
He pockets his phone. “I thought about telling her to stop texting me, but starting any communication with her would’ve only fueled her fire. I’ve come across her type too many times, which is why I changed my number. I’ve done it before, and I’m sure I’ll have to do it again. At least you can do it online now. They’ve made it easy.”