by Lucy Score
The car pulled up in front of a Spanish style duplex and they got out. “I was expecting a store,” Joey said, skeptically studying the broad expanse of white garage door. “Am I just pawing through some stranger’s closet?”
It was Jax’s turn to grin. “Something like that,” he said and rang the bell next to the bland brown front door.
* * *
The door burst open and they were greeted by a little yappy dog and a woman with dyed pewter hair that matched the stud in her nose. She wore violet contact lenses and scarred motorcycle boots under seriously distressed jeans decorated with safety pins.
“Jax!” She threw her lean arms around his neck and gave him a smacking kiss on the mouth.
Before Joey had the chance to decide whether or not she wanted to knock Brigid’s block off, the woman turned and grabbed Joey’s hand. “It’s cool. I’m a lesbian,” she said with a quick grin. “You must be Joey. I’m Brigid. Damn, Jax. You weren’t kidding, she is gorgeous.”
Joey shot a bemused look at him and Jax smiled innocently.
“Come on in,” Brigid said, stooping to pick up the tan ball of fluff that had yet to stop barking. She waved them into a narrow ceramic tiled hallway and opened the first door on the right.
Brigid had converted her garage into a design studio. Fabrics in every shade of the rainbow and textures sumptuous enough to wrap up in cascaded from tables, racks, and shelves. Three rolling racks held dresses in varying stages of completion on the far wall. Two counter height tables held matching industrial-looking sewing machines. There were colorful displays of threads, dishes of sparkle, and a three-way mirror in front of a curtained off corner.
“Welcome to my lair,” Brigid said, setting the little dog down on the floor and bowing with a flourish.
“Wow,” Joey said. It looked to Joey as if a rainbow and a craft store had an orgy.
“Okay, so I have a head’s up on what the trend for tonight is. A lot of black and white, as if we haven’t done that to death. So I pulled two pieces that I think would make a statement without pushing you too far outside your comfort zone,” she chattered on.
“Uh, you’re looking at my comfort zone,” Joey said raising her arms and looking down at her long sleeve t-shirt and jeans.
Brigid eyed her up and down. “Sequins are definitely out,” she said to Jax. “But I think I have the absolutely perfect thing. Come with me.”
She gave Joey no room to disagree and herded her toward the curtained corner. Joey nervously clutched her coffee and flopped down on a padded ottoman behind the gray drapes.
“I’ll be right back,” Brigid announced and disappeared.
She reappeared in seconds with a garment bag slung over her arm. “Okay, this is my number one pick and if you hate it you’re going to crush my artistic spirit and I’ll hate you forever.”
“Don’t hate the dress. Got it,” Joey nodded.
Brigid hung the bag from a hook and unzipped it revealing layers of dusky rose tulle.
“Uhh…”
“Don’t freak out yet. In fact, don’t even look until I get it on you. Strip,” Brigid ordered.
Not usually one to take off her clothes in front of a stranger, Joey decided when in L.A. she might as well do as the Angelinos do. She peeled her t-shirt and jeans off and tossed them on the ottoman.
“Okay, just step in,” Brigid said, pooling the dress on the rug.
Joey did as she was told and let Brigid stuff her into the dress. The top was an ivory tank in some kind of silky material with just the slightest shimmer to it. The skirt was a fantasy of rosy tulle layered that fell from a cinched waist.
“How’s that for comfortable?” Brigid asked, eyeing the fit.
Joey’s hands traveled down over the full skirt and discovered pockets sewn into soft jersey lining under the tulle.
“Pockets? Awesome,” Joey said.
“Yep. You can stash your phone in there and some lip gloss and be good to go. How does it feel?”
Joey swayed her hips from side to side, letting the tulle bell out. She moved to the ottoman and sat. Nothing embarrassing popped out and she didn’t feel like she was being strangled by anything.
“It feels pretty good,” Joey said suspiciously, waiting for something to poke her or the material to rip in two.
“Let’s see how it looks.” Brigid led the way out of the dressing area and pushed Joey in front of the three-way mirror.
She looked…good. Great, actually. Joey turned from one side to the other.
“Oh yeah,” Brigid nodded. “How tall are you?”
“Five-nine?”
“Perfect. I don’t even have to hem the length. I can take it in here and here,” she said gesturing to the waist. “And the straps need to be shortened just a hair, but other than that it’s perfect. What do you think, Jax?”
Joey looked at him in the reflection and was pleasantly surprised to see a dumbfounded expression on his face.
“You okay?” Joey asked him.
Jax snapped back and walked over. “You look…just wow.” He told her to spin with a circle of his finger.
Joey obliged with a sassy pirouette, enjoying the feel of the full skirt as the tulle billowed out.
Brigid was grinning. “I freaking rock.”
“You sure do,” Jax said, still not taking his eyes off of Joey.
“You’ll wear your hair down like it is now,” Brigid instructed. “Maybe add some loose curls. Keep it kind of fanciful. Really dewy makeup. Yeah, you’re going to be the hit of the red carpet.”
While Brigid chattered on, Joey’s gaze stayed locked on Jax. There was something new flaming to life in those cool gray eyes and though she couldn’t read it, its significance was palpable. He looked at her, into her, his expression both dark and loving.
“So what do you think?” Brigid asked.
“Perfection,” Jax answered.
“And who am I wearing?” Joey asked, running her palms over the tulle.
“Brigid Winston. Don’t you forget it,” she said through a mouthful of pins as she tucked and tweaked the shape of the dress.
The dress was like nothing she’d ever worn before. She stuck with jeans whenever possible and on the rare occasion that dressing up was required, she had two dresses in her closet. A black sheath and a navy wrap. Both serviceable and classic. She’d never have an occasion to wear this romantic dream of a dress again, but oh, she wanted it.
“How much?” Joey asked.
“It’s already paid for,” Jax cut in.
Joey whirled, her skirt swirling with her. “Oh, no. First the bacon and then the dog and the horses. You’re not getting the dress, too.”
“Bacon? Nice,” Brigid said approvingly. “And you can quit arguing because the dress is on me.”
“The hell it is,” Jax and Joey said in unison.
“Look, I need to get this business off the ground so I can stop fixing on-set wardrobe malfunctions for model-slash-actresses who lie about their measurements. And if you wear this dress on that carpet tonight, people are going to notice. And if you blubber about how deeply talented and exclusive this no-name designer is, I’ll have five publicists knocking on my door tomorrow morning.”
Joey shared a look with Jax.
“So you’re not paying for it, but you will gush,” Brigid instructed her.
“I can gush,” Joey nodded at her reflection.
Jax was circling her, taking her in from all angles. “You look incredible,” he said finally.
“Thanks,” Joey and Brigid said in unison.
26
With her dress securely stowed in the garment bag and a tasty lunch in her stomach, Joey was almost cheerful about the prospect of attending the premiere. She waltzed into their hotel room ahead of Jax and tossed her sunglasses on the marble topped entryway table.
Jax hauled her dress and a few other bags from their impromptu shopping spree inside and tossed everything over a chair. He reached for her, pulling her in.
“You know, we have some time before you have to start getting ready,” he hinted.
“Is that so?” Joey said twining her arms around his neck. “I think I have a few ideas of how we could pass the time.”
Her mouth was a breath away from his when the knock sounded on the door.
“Yoo hoo!”
“Oh, my God. I forgot about Didi,” Joey whispered.
“Just keep quiet and maybe she’ll go away,” Jax suggested.
“Nice try.” Joey extricated herself from his arms and opened the door.
Didi, in all her platinum blonde glory, sashayed inside followed by a parade of people carrying boxes, bags, and what looked like colorful tackle boxes.
Didi whistled as she peeked around the room over her sunglasses. “Not bad, Jax. Not bad. Now which way to the bathroom?”
Jax pointed the way and Didi clamped a hand on Joey’s wrist and tugged her along. “We’d better get started! You don’t even have your nails done yet.”
Joey looked over her shoulder and mouthed “help me” to Jax. But he just grinned and wandered toward the suite’s bar. “I’ll bring you ladies a drink,” he called.
In a matter of seconds, Joey found herself seated on a tufted ottoman in front of the mirror while some guy named Soloman in a muscle shirt sprayed stuff in her hair and Sylvia with the pink highlights furiously filed her nails. Didi chattered on as rock star thin Becca started smearing colors on her face in a pattern that looked like war paint.
“Are you excited for tonight?” Didi asked.
“I am. I’ve never seen one of Jax’s movies before.”
Didi gasped and the hair and makeup team froze. “Never ever?”
Joey shook her head. “I don’t have time to watch a lot of movies and I kind of hated him for a few years.”
“Well, that makes sense. He’s really good. Like really good. There’s talent there under all those sexy smoldering looks.”
Joey felt weird talking about Jax with a woman who’d also shared his bed.
Didi must have picked up on the awkward vibe. “Sorry! I mean that in the most respectful way possible. We dated very briefly and it was never anything close to serious. Now, you two? Well that looks like a very different story.”
“I guess,” Joey said, watching as Sylvia pulled out a bottle of lavender polish and started slicking it on her newly shaped nails.
“Puh-lease,” Didi snickered, puckering up for another layer of paint on her high cheekbones. “I think Jax has been pining over you since forever. In fact, after meeting you, I can see bits and pieces of you that he’s used in his leading ladies.”
Now that was enough to make a girl feel strange. Just what qualities of hers had he lent his characters? Hard headedness? A mean, unforgiving streak?
Joey decided when she got back she was going to have a Jackson Pierce Moviethon all by herself so she could pick apart the leads and see the parts of her that he decided to share with the world.
That squishy feeling was back in her stomach so Joey changed the subject asking about Didi’s date.
Two hours later, Joey had been plucked, painted, and curled into a higher standard of beauty. She leaned forward in the mirror, turning her head this way and that trying to identify with the reflection. The old Joey Greer was still there, but more polished, she decided.
Didi, leaned in next to her and snapped a selfie in the mirror. “Damn, we look good.”
“You look like a bombshell,” Joey told her.
Didi had poured herself into a white sequined gown that put her most noticeable assets on display. Her short blonde hair was done up Marilyn Monroe style. Red nails and lips pushed the needle into Old Hollywood glam.
She flashed a million dollar smile at Joey. “Okay, now we have just enough time to practice standing.”
“I know how to stand,” Joey told her.
“No, you know how to hold yourself upright. I’m going to show you how to pose on the red carpet.”
She moved to the far end of the bathroom and pause, one hand on her hip, one foot kicked out. “Now, Jax is a writer, so you aren’t going to have to do the whole big press line. But you’ll still be getting your picture taken and when you do, this is the way to stand.”
Didi moved toward Joey with the prance and attitude of a thoroughbred. “See, if you give your feet a little kick with every step, you move the skirt of your dress out of the way and you won’t be as likely to trip.”
Joey hadn’t thought about falling. She hadn’t thought to worry about walking. She decided she wasn’t going to let go of Jax’s arm. If she went down, she was going to take him down with her.
“So it’s like a kick stomp?” Joey asked.
“Exactly. You give it a try.”
Joey mechanically kick stomped her way across the marble, glad she’d chosen sparkly flat sandals rather than those icicle thin stilettos at the store.
Didi watched her intently. “I think you need to loosen up your hips more. You look like you’re marching into battle.”
Joey gave a little shimmy to warm up her hip flexors and tried again.
Didi nodded her approval. “Okay, now when you stop I want you to think boobs out, tailbone in, hand on hip, and foot point.” She demonstrated and instantly looked half her size.
Joey frowned. “Boobs. Butt. Hand…and what?”
“Foot.”
“Okay, foot. I feel completely unnatural.”
“Then you’re doing it right,” Didi smiled. “Do the walk again and then plant in this pose.”
Joey tried it a half dozen times before Didi was satisfied. “You’re going to look like a natural when they shove those cameras in your face.”
“Uh, yay?”
A knock sounded at the door. “Five minute warning, ladies,” Jax said through the door.
“Yikes! I’d better call my car,” Didi said. “I’m going to go out first and you wait a minute so you can make your entrance.”
“My mom isn’t on the other side of that door with a camera, is she?” Joey asked.
“Trust me, the entrance is the most memorable part.”
Didi slipped through the door and Joey could hear her chit-chatting with Jax and the rest of the crew. She took one last look at herself in the mirror. She looked pretty freaking great. The makeup was all soft hues that played up her features without making her look like a drag queen or a reality TV star. And the dress, oh the dress.
She felt beautiful, maybe even a little stunning.
Joey counted to ten and took a few deep breaths before opening the bathroom door. Jax had his back to her, but she could tell the second he sensed her presence. That tingle of awareness at the back of his neck. He turned to her, a glass of scotch in his hands. The smile slid right off his face as his mouth fell open. He set the glass down on the edge of the table with a snap almost missing it completely.
In his crisp suit, he looked every bit the leading man. He’d gone with a skinny tie instead of a bowtie and he left his jacket unbuttoned. He looked debonair and dashing with that hint of rebel just beneath the slick surface.
“Wow,” she said.
Jax moved to her, his hands reaching for her and she took them. They stood at arm’s length studying each other for a moment until Joey heard the click of a camera phone. Didi grinned at them from across the room. “Don’t worry, I’m texting it to y’all.”
Joey turned her attention back to the still speechless Jax.
“So what do you think?” Joey asked him, nerves fluttering in her belly.
“I think you look like a goddess,” he said, bringing the knuckles of her hand to his lips. “I’m still not sure I deserve you.”
Joey gave an unladylike snort. “Maybe you should stop trying to deserve me and just start enjoying me.”
“Maybe I should,” he agreed, reeling her in.
“Oh, no you don’t!” Didi cried rushing over. She put her hands between them. “Don’t you dare mess up her hair and make up. She looks a
bsolutely perfect and if you put your big ol’ paws on her she’s going to get to the premiere looking like a wilted flower.”
Jax’s eyes glinted, a hunter reluctant to give up his prey.
“Okay, posse, let’s head out,” Didi announced to her entourage. “Joey, you look stunning. Don’t let him wreck you until after the red carpet. Got it?”
Joey threw a mock salute. “Got it.” She surprised herself by wrapping Didi in a hug. “Thank you for everything, Didi.”
“Awh, aren’t you a sweetie. This one’s a keeper, Jax,” Didi announced as she made her way to the door with her team. “I’ll see you at the theater!”
Joey said her thanks and good-byes to the rest of the crew and then they were alone.
“You know, we could just skip this whole thing,” Jax began.
“No freaking way, Ace. I think the world deserves to see me in this dress.”
“But I’m the one who gets to take you out of it,” he told her.
* * *
When they settled into the backseat of the car Al sent for them, Jax pulled Joey against him. She looked like a vision, one that he would never get out of his mind. When he saw her standing there in front of him in the hotel, all he could think of was how much he wanted this woman to be his wife. He could see her, standing in a meadow wearing that dress and saying the vows he’d longed to hear. How much longer would he have to wait before she was ready for that?
“Jax?”
“Hmm?”
“Didi said something that I was curious about.”
“You didn’t ask her about her boobs, did you?”
“No, but I saw her change. They’re totally real. She’s a freak of nature.”
He smiled, brushing his lips against her hair. “What did she say?”
“She said that you put pieces of me into your characters. Is it true?”
“It is. You’ve always been a muse to me.”
“What pieces did you use? I mean, are the women…hard or mean or—”
He laughed, but weighed his words. “Is that what you think I see in you?”
“I’m not exactly the warm and fuzzy type.”