by Fox, Ella
I did a little jig. “This is awesome!”
“You asshole—you already told her didn’t you?”
I spun on my heel and smiled as I watched Garrett approach. As soon as he was close enough he took the box I was holding. As he did, he gave Nolan a pointed look. “I can’t believe you killed my surprise, you little shit. Also, when you see a woman carrying something, offer to help,” he chided.
Nolan ducked his head, properly chastised. “Sorry, man. I got excited.”
Garrett chuckled as he nudged an elbow at him. “I’m just fucking with you. Bad news though—I finished my last shot for the day but they’re asking for you to come back to reshoot your close-ups from the green screen scene we did earlier. I told them I’d let you know.”
Nolan let out a groan. “I’m starving.”
“The sooner you get it over with the sooner you can stuff your face,” Garrett pointed out.
Once Nolan left to go back to set, Garrett and I continued the journey down to his trailer.
“We’re really going to see Pearl Jam?” I asked.
“We’re really going.” He grinned. “Harry knows someone at Epic records so he was able to score front row seats.”
I stopped dead in my tracks. “Shut. Up. Are you for real right now?”
He threw back his head as he laughed. “I’m for real.”
“I’m so excited right now I might pee my pants,” I declared.
“Maybe hold off on that,” he deadpanned as he resumed walking.
“You need to talk business to get my mind off this or I’ll be unbearable for the rest of the day,” I said.
That earned me a dry laugh. “I can do that. Is this box full of the promo stuff Alan wants me to look at?” he asked.
“It is. Some of it’s really nice, too.”
“And the rest of it?” he asked as we arrived at his trailer.
“Well, some of it doesn’t relate to the theme of the movie, which makes it a waste of money,” I murmured, making sure he was the only one who could hear me.
“When you’re thinking about future careers you might want to think about advertising. You’re good at making decisions based on fact instead of just nodding at everything the studio offers,” he said. As he spoke, he hurried forward to open the door to his trailer for me. I’d gotten used to what a gentleman he was, and I liked it a lot.
Inside the trailer, more and more signs that I spent a lot of time there—possibly more than Garrett did—were all around. My backpack was on the counter, my schoolwork was spread out on half the table, and the vanilla sugar scent of my favorite Bath & Body Works candle lingered in the air, due to the fact that I lit it whenever I was in the trailer for extended periods.
“How was class?” he asked as he set the box down on the coffee table. After taking a seat on the couch, he took off the lid, handed me the clipboard that had been on the top, and started going through the contents.
I grimaced as I sat down one cushion over and pulled a pen from where I’d slid it into my ponytail hours before. I had a habit of wearing pens like chopsticks. “I’d hoped to finish my algebra class this week but Annabeth says I’m not ready for the last test. I hate to admit it, but she’s right. Math sucks.”
“There’s no harm in waiting a few extra days,” he said. “You’re too hard on yourself. I’ve never met anyone who wanted to graduate early as much as you do.”
I snickered but said nothing. He’d never met anyone who’d been raised by Jewel Monroe before, either. That was the determining factor for me working my ass off. With me working all the time and her working and also dating Alan I saw a lot less of her. That should’ve made an enormous difference, but when we did cross paths it was worse than ever. She was annoyed that I got to take the dance classes I’d wanted to take from the very beginning, put out that I was too busy to do her bidding, and furious that I got to drive Garrett’s Jag. Things weren’t great between us.
“So, Vegas,” he said. “Will I get to meet your grandmother while we’re there?”
“Of course! I can’t wait to introduce you—I really think you’ll like her. She’s a riot.”
He smiled as he lifted a travel umbrella adorned with the logo for the movie out of the box. “The way you talk about her tells me everything I need to know. I’m looking forward to meeting her so I can put a face to the stories,” he said as he turned the umbrella over in his hand.
He shook his head as he set the umbrella between us. “You thought this was dumb, right?”
I nodded. “I’m not sure what the umbrella has to do with a western movie.”
“The same could be said about the Frisbee but I know the PR team will insist on it since it’s cheap and easy. Mark a yes next to the Frisbee and a no to the umbrella.”
I did as instructed. “I think the wanted posters, boleros, and belt buckles are on brand for this movie,” I offered. “The notepad and the cactus pen are good, too.”
“The toilet paper, though…” he grumbled.
I’d known he would hate it. I did, too. “I’d rather they went with the umbrella than that,” I said. “I get that they’re trying to capitalize on the catchphrase being we’re in deep shit but… toilet paper is a bridge too far. At least to me.”
“I agree—it’s tacky. Put me down as a hard no for the TP but put a check mark next to the poncho windbreaker. I’ve learned that it’s a give and take. They’ll let me veto some things but not everything.”
I smiled as I took care of filling out the remainder of the form. I hadn’t been looking for a job with Garrett but I loved it. As much as I enjoyed the five-hundred-dollar-a-week paychecks, what I loved more was getting to work with him on the business stuff. It was never boring. I liked working with Harry and I even thought Alan was great, which in a way was not a good thing.
The more time I spent with him the more I realized that he was far too good a person to be stuck dealing with Jewel’s bullshit. Whenever he said nice things about her in front of me or told me some sweet story about her, I wanted to vomit. I held it in and said nothing—but deep down I wasn’t sure how long I could keep doing that.
* * *
Jewel had been furious about the Pearl Jam concert, but other than being an extra big asshole to me whenever we crossed paths there’d been nothing she could do about it. Alan thought it was a great idea—particularly since it was giving me a chance to visit my grandmother—so Jewel had no choice but to pretend she was happy for me in front of him. Alan loved Garrett, which meant Jewel had to watch herself. If she gave Garrett a glimpse of the asshole she really was she’d have been fucked and she knew it. There was also the fact that Alan liked me. A lot. When Jewel set out to create a “mother of the year” persona, she’d painted herself into one hell of a corner. I confess to feeling a little smug about the fact that she lost more control of me by the week. I’d seen her as we left the set with Nolan and I’d had to bite the inside of my cheek to stop me from laughing in her face. The good thing was that I forgot about her as soon as Garrett, Nolan, and I got into the limo to go to the airport.
I’d never flown in a private jet before—and hadn’t ever imagined for even a moment that I’d get the chance. My stomach was full of nervous excitement as I walked up the fold-down stairs of the Cessna Citation. When I stepped inside, that excitement morphed into panic. Although it was beautifully appointed, the interior of the jet felt microscopic. I had to bend at the waist and crouch a little to make my way to one of the eight seats. At nearly five foot eight I wasn’t used to feeling like the Jolly Green Giant. I’d also never experienced full-on claustrophobia before, but I swear it felt like I’d taken a wrong turn into the trash compactor scene in Star Wars and the walls were starting to close in.
I took a deep breath when Garrett set his hand on my back in a soothing way. “It’s okay,” he said calmly. “I promise, you get used to it.”
I think I answered, but in reality I probably grunted or spoke in tongues like a whacked-out weirdo. T
he need to run out of the plane and back onto the tarmac grew more extreme by the second. My breathing was a mess, so much so that I was about thirty seconds away from hyperventilating and passing out.
“I can’t do this,” I announced in a strangled voice. I was seriously considering turning around and running right off that goddamn death trap.
“Shit, man, is she okay?” Nolan asked.
“No. Listen, give me five minutes with her alone, okay?”
I heard Nolan agree, and felt the plane move as he walked back down the steps. The movement made me nauseous, and I swayed on my feet. Garrett wrapped his arm around my middle in order to guide me to a seat at the rear of the plane. I blew out a breath as I dropped into a wide leather seat. Closing my eyes, I leaned back and tried to tell myself I wasn’t going to die in a jet the size of a tin can.
“Look at me, baby,” he commanded huskily.
I’d only have opened them faster if someone had shoved a rocket up my ass. Holy shit—he’d called me baby. My body was a riot of conflicting emotions. Part of me wanted to jump up and start dancing, while another part remained entirely focused on not dying in the sky a la Buddy Holly.
My skin felt both hot and cold as Garrett stared into my eyes. Taking my left hand in his he pulled me up from the seat. I blinked in confusion as he sat down in it and then forgot to think at all when he pulled me onto his lap and wrapped his arms around me. Instinct had me settling my head against the space between his shoulder and neck. That close I felt enveloped by his warm and sensual scent. My internal freak-out about the plane warred with my desire to snuggle into him. I wanted to calm the hell down but my body was in a vicious fight-or-flight cycle.
“I’ve flown on one of these easily a hundred times and, as you can see, I’m alive and well,” he said. “I’d never, ever, put you in an unsafe situation. I promise you, this is going to be okay. In an hour we’ll be in Vegas and this will all be a memory.”
The knowledge that it would be over in an hour calmed me down a bit, but it was what happened next that broke the panic chain. My eyes widened as I felt the vibration of his voice beneath my cheek when he began singing The Beatles’ Here Comes the Sun. My eyes went wide with shock. Not only was he singing, he was damn good at it. The surprise of it short-circuited what was happening in my body, and my panic faded away as my heart turned to mush.
When the song was over and I tilted my head back to look up at him, he smiled down at me. “Feeling better?”
As I nodded, my free hand shot up and smacked his shoulder. “Erm,” I groaned as I sat up, “sorry, didn’t mean to do that. But holy crap, Garrett! I had no idea you could sing. I can’t believe you’ve been holding out on me.”
He looked away bashfully. “I don’t normally sing in front of people,” he murmured. “This was an extraordinary situation that called for outside-of-the-box thinking.”
“So you’re saying I should freak out more often if I want to hear more?”
He shook his head as he ran his hand up and down my back in a soothing motion. “If it’s all the same to you I’d rather not see you upset,” he answered.
The tenderness in his eyes right then made my belly flutter. We both froze at the feeling of Nolan climbing the stairs to the plane again. Sitting up, Garrett helped me stand before he himself stood. “You okay now?”
I nodded as I dropped back down into the seat, my knees not quite strong enough to hold me up. I was still scared, but Garrett’s singing had calmed the out-of-control feeling I’d been experiencing. I’d felt myself falling for him a bit more each day, but when he sang to me on the plane, I knew for sure that he was feeling something, too.
I wasn’t sure what, exactly, to do about that, but I was determined to figure something out.
Chapter Twelve
July 1998
I never truly settled into the flight but I did manage to hold it together. Talking to Garrett and Nolan helped, but it was seeing the Vegas valley coming into view as we began the descent that perked me up. Knowing that I was getting closer and closer to seeing Goldie was exciting. I hadn’t seen her since Christmas, which felt like an eternity. I was so happy when we landed that I almost cheered and it wasn’t only because I’d survived the trip. No matter where I went or what I did in life, a part of me would always think of Vegas as home.
“There’s that smile I like to see,” Garrett murmured.
I ducked my head but smiled even wider as I unbuckled and stood up.
“He’s right,” Nolan said as he stood from the seat across from me. “You went so pale when we boarded I really thought you were going to pass out. It wasn’t so bad, right?”
I held my hand up and rocked it side to side in a so/so motion. “Once we were in the air it was fine but holy crap, I had no idea that it would be so tiny in here. I don’t know that I could handle it on a longer flight,” I admitted.
Garrett laughed as he picked up my backpack from the space between our seats. When I reached out to take it from him, he frowned and shook his head before he slung it over his shoulder. Another thing I never had to worry about when he was around was carrying stuff. I’d talked to his parents on the phone a few times and I was dying to meet them face-to-face, because the way they’d raised their son told me they were kind and down-to-earth. Garrett had been famous from a young age, which meant he could’ve been an ignorant and entitled prick, but he wasn’t like that at all. That made him a good influence on the other people around him, especially Nolan, who saw on a daily basis that fame didn’t mean a person had to be a dickhead.
Exiting the plane, I took a deep breath of desert air before I hurried down the small steps. When I stepped off, I raised my arms and did a quick pirouette. Garrett and Nolan both laughed as they came down behind me. “I couldn’t have done that on the plane,” I joked. “Solid ground has never felt so good.”
Garrett shook his head as he looked around. “Harry was supposed to be here when we landed,” he said. “I hope everything is okay.”
So did I, because Las Vegas in July was not for the faint of heart. I’d lived there for the majority of my life and even still, being out in the heat zapped my strength. It had been eighty-nine degrees in Moab when we left, which seemed hot, but it was at least one hundred and fifteen degrees in Vegas when we deplaned. It wasn’t just hot—it was “Wicked Witch of the West screeching I’m melting, I’m melting” hot.
Just then, a black limo came around a corner. “That’ll be Harry,” Garrett said. “And not a minute too soon because I swear to God I can feel all the water in my body evaporating.”
When the super stretch limo came to a halt, the rear door opened and a man stepped out. I talked to Harry multiple times a week, generally at least once a day, but this was the first time we were meeting face-to-face. He was tall, blond, adorably handsome, and he looked to be the same age as Garrett. He made a beeline for me and I went right for him, too.
“You really exist!” I teased as I hugged him.
“I was just thinking the same thing,” he laughed. When we separated, he looked me over before a big grin that I couldn’t decipher spread across his face. “I have to say, putting a face to the voice wraps it all up in a pretty bow. I was right—you’re beautiful. I knew you would be.”
I knew I was blushing as I looked away. “Oh hush.”
Garrett cleared his throat. “How about we break this little love fest up so we can finish the introductions and get into the car where there’s water? By the way, it was nice of you to remember to pick us up,” he said dryly.
“You landed seven minutes ahead of schedule,” Harry countered. “So really, I’m here right on time.”
Once those two finished poking at each other and Garrett introduced Harry to Nolan, we set about getting on the road. It didn’t take long to get our luggage into the limo. I breathed a sigh of sweet relief as I got into the limo and the air-conditioning skated across my skin. Las Vegas without ice and cool, indoor air would be unbearable.
; Since the airport was located within spitting distance of the strip it took us less than ten minutes to get to the hotel. Harry had already checked in so we were able to bypass that entire process and go right to the suite, although the manager and a bellhop raced over to welcome Garrett, take our bags, and guide us to the floor where our rooms were. That was a good thing because a few people in the lobby had noticed Garrett. It was strange to see the way they’d do a double take like they weren’t sure it was really him. If he noticed the extra attention he didn’t let on.
I’d offered to stay with Goldie but Garrett promised it would be more fun if I stayed at the hotel and she came over and spent all of Saturday with me at the spa. I’d never been to a spa before and didn’t feel like I had to go at all but he was adamant that his assistant had earned some downtime. I could hardly say no when he informed me that it was his treat and Harry had already booked it.
Harry was already checked in, so he peeled off and went into his suite while we went to the next door and dropped Nolan off. When we got to my suite my eyes widened as the bellhop held open the door for me to enter. The space was way too lavish for one person but I loved it. I spun and grinned at Garrett as the bellhop put my lone bag on a mahogany luggage rack. “Thank you for this.”
He grinned back. “My pleasure. I’ll call you in a little while so we can make a dinner plan.”
I saluted him. “You’re the boss, boss.”
He gave me a wry look before he rolled his eyes and turned to leave. As soon as the door closed behind him I ran to the bed, held my arms out and fell backward. I moaned in delight as the softest mattress I’d ever had the pleasure of lying on welcomed me. After I adjusted myself so my head was on a pillow, I thought about the looks and murmurs Garrett had gotten as we walked through the lobby. I was used to the people in Moab who ignored him for the most part. In a lot of ways, I’d forgotten how famous he was myself, but the whispers in the lobby were a reminder that he wasn’t an average guy.