by Susannah Nix
“I can’t bring you as my date without telling people we’re together.”
“So?”
Griffin grimaced at the challenge in her tone. “So the more people who know about us, the greater the risk that it will get out.”
“So we can just never go out anywhere together or tell anyone we know about us?”
“Not never.”
“For how long, then?”
Good question. Sabrina hadn’t been specific, and Griffin hadn’t asked for clarification on that point. Alice hadn’t been a consideration when he’d initially agreed to all this, so he’d assumed he’d go along with it for as long as Sabrina wanted him to. But Prepare for War wouldn’t come out for another year. Surely he wasn’t expected to keep up this charade all that time. Was he?
A few months ought to be long enough to build up some buzz for the film. Once the momentum kicked in, he could propose they orchestrate a diplomatic breakup with Kimberleigh. Hopefully.
“I don’t know how long,” he told Alice honestly. “But it won’t be forever. I swear.”
She twisted away and sank back into the couch, leaving at least a foot of space between them. Her shoulders curled in on themselves as she crossed her arms across her chest.
He hated seeing her like this and knowing it was his fault. He hated this whole fucking Kimbergriff situation and wished there was a way out of it. But he’d made a professional commitment. People were counting on him to hold up his end—not to mention the fact that his own career was at stake. He couldn’t just bail because it had become inconvenient.
“Hey.” He scooted closer, draping his arm around Alice’s shoulders. “You know if it was up to me, I’d tell the whole world about us?”
Her eyes shifted in his direction, full of doubt. “Would you?”
There were those trust issues again. It was like she was always half expecting him to disappoint her. She just couldn’t seem to believe he wanted to stick around.
“Of course I would.” He turned her face toward his, stroking his fingers across her cheekbone.
Her lips compressed into a thin line. “I guess you could take Kimberleigh to the party.”
He sighed and dropped his hand to the couch. “I wouldn’t do that. I don’t want to have to lie to my friends about her.”
Alice nodded glumly.
He leaned over to brush a kiss against her temple. “I’d rather stay home than go somewhere without you.”
“Don’t you ever get tired of staying home and hiding?”
Never. Griffin loved staying home, because he could be himself at home, away from the privacy-invading stares and cellphone cameras that waited for him everywhere he went. Maybe if he could run out for a coffee or a package of toilet paper without constantly feeling everyone’s eyes on him, he’d enjoy going out more. But he’d lost that ability years ago.
“Do you?” he asked Alice.
“Sometimes.” Her finger traced and retraced a figure eight pattern in the couch cushion. “I can’t be seen with you anywhere in public, I have to be careful what pictures I post on social media, and I don’t even have anyone I can talk to about all of this—the good parts or the bad parts.”
He captured her hand to stop its nervous fidgeting and ran his thumb over her knuckles. “You can talk to me.”
“No, I can’t. If I complain or act unhappy, you get that pitiful, guilty look that just makes me feel bad for making you feel bad.”
He drew back, stung by her words. “I do feel bad for making you feel bad.”
“I’m sorry.” She buried her face in her hands, letting out a long, ragged sigh. “I know you hate this as much as I do. I’m just feeling sorry for myself.”
Griffin slid an arm under Alice’s knees and swung her into his lap. Cradling her against his chest, he stroked his hand down the back of her neck. “It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.”
She turned her face into his chest and nodded.
His fingers kneaded her neck and shoulders, trying to work away some of the tension. “Is there something else wrong? Is it your dissertation?” He felt her tense up again.
“It’s fine.” The white-knuckled fists she had clenched in his shirt said otherwise.
His hand smoothed over her hair. “It seems like you’ve been having some trouble focusing.”
“It’s just harder than I thought it would be. All this time, I told myself it was Gilchrist keeping me from making progress. Only it turns out, it wasn’t just him. It was me.” She unclenched her fists and plucked at the bottom of Griffin’s T-shirt. “Even with him out of the picture, I’m not sure I can do it.”
“You’ll get it done.”
“Sure.”
He gave her a little shake. “You will. I believe in you.”
“I’m glad someone does.”
“Hey.” He studied her troubled features, trying to think of some way to cheer her up. “What if…” She lifted hopeful eyes to his. God, he was such a sucker for her, he’d do anything if she batted those big blue eyes at him. “Maybe we could go to Alfie’s party together.”
“Really? Are you sure?”
“Yeah. It’s probably fine.” Chances were good he was just being overly paranoid. No one invited to Alfie’s house was going to go telling tales out of school. He needed to relax and stop worrying so much.
Alice rewarded him with a smile, and he brushed his thumb over her bottom lip. When she caught it between her teeth and sucked it into her mouth, he exhaled sharply, letting out a small growl in the back of his throat. Tipping her head back, he claimed her mouth with possessive strokes of his tongue as he swept a hand up the inside of her thigh, once more appreciating the easy access provided by her cutoff shorts. Her legs parted for him, and her teeth bit down playfully on his lower lip.
By the time she’d worked his pants open, Griffin had forgotten all about the churn of unease in the pit of his stomach.
The second Alice stepped inside Alfie Crosby’s Mediterranean-style Malibu home, she realized she’d made a mistake wanting to come. A quick scan of the room confirmed her worst fears: everyone else there was either famous, beautiful, rich, or some combination of the three. They weren’t quite all actors—at least half the guests were writers, directors, producers, and other Hollywood heavy hitters—but it sure seemed that way.
Feeling mousy and out of place in her three-year-old off-the-rack cocktail dress, Alice hung back as Louis Blanchard, the former showrunner of Las Vegas General, greeted Griffin. Blanchard had never deigned to notice Alice before, and apparently had no intention of breaking that streak now, as he proceeded to chat with Griffin about his next show, utterly ignoring her presence.
“It was good catching up with you,” Griffin said, extracting himself from the conversation after a few minutes. “We’d better go pay our respects to the birthday boy.”
He rested his hand at the small of Alice’s back as he guided her deeper into the house. “Sorry. That guy’s a real gasbag.”
After elbowing their way past an Oscar nominee, two Emmy winners, and a Broadway actress well on her way to a coveted EGOT, they found Alfie in the kitchen playing bartender. He returned Griffin’s hug with enthusiasm before turning a quizzical eye on Alice.
“You remember Alice, of course,” Griffin supplied. “She worked as an extra on the show.”
“Right,” Alfie said with a nod of recognition. “You’re the one who threw all those scalpels at that other kid.”
Since Alfie was notorious for forgetting people’s names—there was a story going around that he’d once failed to recognize his ex-daughter-in-law at an industry event—Alice decided to put this in the win column.
“You have a lovely home,” she told him. She’d never been to Malibu before, and the Pacific views from the back of the house were stunning, although the interior was surprisingly modest and down-to-earth with its floral couches and rough-hewn wood furniture.
“Thank you,” Alfie replied genially. “I had nothing whatsoever to d
o with it.”
“He’s lying,” said a strikingly beautiful woman who’d just come into the kitchen with a bag of ice. “He picked all the furniture himself. Agonized over it for months until it was just right.”
Alfie shook an affectionately chiding finger at her. “Don’t give away my embarrassing secrets, woman.”
The woman set the ice down and turned to greet Griffin. “We’re so glad you were able to come.”
He gave her a kiss on the cheek before making the introductions. “Alice, meet Alfie’s wife, Lynn.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Alice said, taking Lynn’s perfectly manicured hand. Alfie’s wife looked at least thirty years his junior, but according to the Vanity Fair profile Alice had read last year, their actual age difference was closer to ten years. Whoever her plastic surgeon was, he was a wizard.
“Alice worked on the show,” Alfie added. “As an extra.”
Lynn turned to Griffin with a raised eyebrow. “Are you two…?” She wagged a finger between him and Alice.
Since that was the million-dollar question, Alice looked at Griffin to see what he would say.
“Yeah,” he said, after only a brief hesitation. “We are.” He curled his arm around Alice’s waist, tugging her closer, and she exhaled some of her tension.
“How lovely.” Lynn smiled and turned to Alfie. “Isn’t that lovely?”
“Mmm,” he grunted, as if he couldn’t care less who was dating who, and nodded at Alice. “What can I get you to drink, my dear?”
“Red wine would be great,” she said, choosing the closest, easiest thing at hand.
“What about you, kiddo?” Alfie asked Griffin as he poured Alice’s wine.
“Just water for me,” Griffin said, patting his stomach. “I’m on another diet.”
“Course you are.” Alfie handed Alice her glass of wine and cocked his head toward the back door. “There’s a cooler full of sparkling water outside on the deck. Go crazy.”
Alfie was drinking a La Croix himself. His battle with alcoholism and subsequent recovery twenty years ago was a well-documented chapter of his bio, so Alice wasn’t surprised to see that he wasn’t imbibing the drinks he was serving.
She and Griffin bid Alfie and his wife goodbye and headed outside in search of the aforementioned cooler. Once Griffin had equipped himself with his favorite flavor of La Croix, they joined a group of Las Vegas General cast members who had congregated by the pool. Griffin was greeted with enthusiasm, and Alice with unspoken curiosity and a few raised eyebrows. She attempted small talk for the next twenty minutes, but wound up mostly standing silently at Griffin’s side, until Alexandra Shaw addressed her with an over-wide smile. “What are you up to these days, Alice? Have you moved on to another background job?”
“Um.” Alice switched her now-empty wineglass from one hand to the other. “No. Actually—”
“She’s finishing her PhD,” Griffin supplied for her.
“Really?” Alexandra looked impressed. “In what?”
“Sociology.”
“How thrilling!”
It wasn’t exactly the word Alice would have chosen, but she smiled her agreement, prepared to explain the subject of her dissertation research.
No one asked about Alice’s research, however. Instead, Alexandra turned back to Griffin, her eyes narrowing slightly. “And what’s all this I’ve been reading lately about you and Kimberleigh Cress?”
Alice squeezed her wineglass, desperately wishing she had some left to gulp down.
Griffin shrugged. “Don’t believe everything you read.”
“But you two did just finish shooting that Jerry Duncan movie together?” Alexandra persisted.
Belatedly, Alice remembered that Alexandra was one of the women Griffin was rumored to have slept with, then immediately wished she hadn’t remembered that particular fact.
“That’s right.” Griffin took a swig of his cherry lime La Croix, seemingly unfazed.
“Let me guess—the studio put you up to it for the publicity.”
“Something like that.”
“But you’re with Alice now?” Alexandra’s smile had a tinge of disbelief to it.
“What was it like working with Jerry Duncan?” piped up Brendan Parrish, who’d played one of the other doctors on the show. Alice breathed a silent sigh of relief as the conversation turned away from her and her relationship with Griffin.
A few minutes later, she excused herself to get a refill on her wine.
“Grab me another La Croix?” Griffin requested cheerfully.
Alice headed inside and topped off her glass from one of the open bottles in the kitchen, which was full of people she didn’t know. On her way back outside to the cooler of sparkling water, she was waylaid by Janie, one of the makeup artists on the show.
“Oh my god, Alice! I didn’t expect to see you here!”
Alice was just as surprised to see Janie, until she remembered that Janie was Alfie’s niece. Nepotism got you a long way in Hollywood.
“Janie, hi!” Alice tried not to spill her wine as Janie gave her an enthusiastic hug. “Yeah. I came with Griffin.”
Janie’s eyes widened. “Griffin Beach?”
Shit. Of course Janie was one of the makeup artists Griffin had slept with. And she had that same look of disbelief Alice had seen on Alexandra’s face a few minutes ago. How many of his exes were here, exactly?
“Yeah. That’s right.” Alice gulped down a mouthful of wine.
Janie’s eyes skated in Griffin’s direction. “What about all that Kimbergriff stuff?”
“Oh. Um. It’s complicated.”
“Ha! I knew it!” Janie said. “I knew it was too good to be true. I said there’s no way Griffin Beach had settled down. Guys like him don’t change.”
Alice tried to laugh like she was in on the joke. “Ha ha. Yeah.”
“Don’t get me wrong. He’s a sweetie—but I don’t have to tell you that. I had fun while it lasted, you know?”
Alice nodded, feeling queasy. “Can I ask…how long were you guys…?”
“Oh, just like a month or two.”
“Two months…wow.” She swallowed another mouthful of wine.
“He wanted to keep it all hush-hush. He said it was because we worked together, but I think he was more concerned about his privacy, to be honest. Plus, the fewer people who knew, the easier it was for him to extract himself when he was done.”
Alice tried to swallow around the dryness in her throat. “Is that what he did? Just end it?”
Janie shrugged. “I mean, there wasn’t all that much to end. It’s not like we were dating, if you know what I mean. We never went anywhere together—I didn’t even get an invite to his house. He’d just text me a couple times a week and ask if he could come over.”
“Wow.” At least Alice had access to Griffin’s house. That was something, right? It paid to be the domestic help.
“It was fine.” Janie shrugged again and her eyes traveled to where Griffin was standing. “I knew exactly who he was when it started, and I went into it with both eyes open. And like I said, it was fun while it lasted.” She looked at Alice and grinned. “I’m sure you know what I’m talking about.”
Before Alice could come up with a response, they were joined by one of Janie’s cousins, who turned out to be Alfie’s eldest son. While the two of them talked about Janie’s new job on an indie film, Alice excused herself and wandered away.
Why had she ever thought she wanted to come to this party? What exactly about being judged and found wanting by all of Griffin’s industry friends and ex-lovers had sounded like fun to her? All of them wondering why she was here, what Griffin was doing with her, when he’d get tired of her like he got tired of everyone else.
“There you are!” Griffin said, coming up behind her and squeezing the back of her neck. “I was about to send a search party.”
Alice forced a smile as she turned toward him. “I was talking to Janie.”
“Ah.”
She tried to read his reaction, but he didn’t seem to have one. He was his usual pleasantly blank slate.
He gestured at her glass, which was nearly empty again. “Did you get more wine?”
“Yeah.” She looked down at what was left of her wine, then back up at him. “I’m ready to go whenever you want.”
His forehead crinkled. “So soon? Aren’t you having a good time?”
“Not particularly. But if you’re having a good time we can stay.”
He leaned toward her, his hand stroking down her arm. “Did Janie say something to you?”
“No.” Nothing she hadn’t already known—or should have known. “I just didn’t think about how many women you’ve slept with that would be here.” Griffin winced, and she reached up to touch his face. “It’s okay, I just feel out of my element.”
“Why?”
“Everyone here is on this whole other strata. It feels like they’re all wondering why someone like you is with someone like me.”
“Hey! What’s wrong with someone like you?”
“I’m just a regular mortal who’s not in the entertainment business—and even when I was, I was at the very bottom of the food chain.”
“Alfie’s wife isn’t in the business. Neither are a lot of the plus-ones here.”
“But they’ve all assimilated with the beautiful people and learned to walk the walk. Meanwhile, I’m over here like a dandelion in a rose garden.”
He pushed her hair out of her face and touched his lips to hers. “Listen to me. You are by far the most beautiful woman here. You’re more like a wild orchid surrounded by cheap plastic daisies. And you’re about to be a doctor, so you’re almost definitely the most brilliant person here. You have no reason to feel intimidated by anyone.”
Alice couldn’t help smiling. He was just so…sweet. And hot. And lovable. And he loved her, over everyone else. How had she gotten so lucky?
Griffin’s hand skimmed down her arm, soothing and warming with his touch. “But we can go whenever you want. These industry parties are always boring as shit.”
She rose up to kiss his cheek, and her lips lingered near his ear. “Take me to bed or lose me forever.”