by Joachim Jean
“Merry Christmas, Gracie.” Jake turned and headed for the elevator, humming “Jingle Bells.”
Chapter Five
Black Magic should be titled No Magic. Yes, another time-waster. Mistaken identity and paranormal elements left me yawning. The dialogue was the worst I’ve seen since…oh, yes, last week!
Gracie wrote another nasty write-up. Tiffany put it first among her reviews.
Research showed forty percent of readers were heading straight for the column. Her agreement with Tiffany kept her from posting each opinion on her blog, but she didn’t care. She was getting paid, and the reviews were getting raves.
But the nasty comments were getting harder and harder to write as she began to feel very guilty about ruining sales for others in the same industry. How would I feel if someone wrote something like this about my movie? I’d be crushed. She tried to soften her sharp remarks but Tiffany rejected those columns and refused to pay her.
By New Year’s, she had decided to cancel her arrangement with Tiffany. But she was the only person who knew the secret identity of the Movie Maven. Grace was afraid the cold-hearted editor would expose her. It was a dilemma.
She decided not to think about it on New Year’s. She left the theater early to play a board game with Sarah before the child went to bed. Grant was getting ready for the party. Grace had made a few delicacies earlier in the day to share with Jake.
After reading Sarah a bedtime story, Grace set out a platter with cold jumbo shrimp and cocktail sauce, egg rolls from her favorite Chinese restaurant, stuffed mushrooms, and bacon-wrapped concoctions from a secret family recipe. Another dish held giant strawberries dipped in chocolate, cannoli, and mini napoleons from the French bakery down the street along with her own homemade chocolate chip cookies.
Grace’s mouth watered while she arranged the food artfully. Grant entered the kitchen. “It’s black tie tonight, and Cara said you tie a mean bowtie. Would you mind? Hey, what’s all this?”
“No problem,” Grace said reaching up. “A little something for Jake and me after the show.”
“I think maybe I’m going to the wrong party. This looks great.”
“Help yourself, I have tons.” He nabbed an egg roll while Grace expertly wound the tie into a perfect bow.
“Jake’s a lucky guy.” He picked up a shrimp and carefully dipped it in cocktail sauce.
“He’s got a good appetite.”
“I mean, dating you.”
She smiled with pleasure at his compliment. “Think so?”
“Sure do. You’re one in a million, Grace. And that’s not just because you’re Cara’s sister.”
“Although that doesn’t hurt, eh?”
“You two broke the mold.”
“Done!” She pulled the bow tight. Grant took another shrimp and popped it in his mouth as he sought out the mirror in the dining room. “Cara was right. This is perfect. Thanks.”
After a quick shower, Grace slipped into a turquoise velour, scooped-neck top and matching pants. Leaving her hair loose, she applied light makeup and her lilac cologne. She was ready for Jake, who’d be arriving with Cara any time now. Grant paced in the living room, checking his watch frequently. He looked up when she joined him. “It’s ten forty-five. We need to get there before midnight.”
“They should be here soon.”
“Times Square will be a madhouse. I hope it doesn’t stop traffic on Fifty-Third Street.”
Before Gracie could reply, the door opened and Cara breezed in with Jake right behind her. “I’m so sorry, darling. Traffic was abominable. Bobby’s waiting for us downstairs. I’ve got to change. Only be a minute.” She stopped to kiss him before she disappeared into the bedroom. Grant joined her.
Jake handed Gracie a bag with a bottle of cold champagne in it, pink roses, a generous box of Fleur de Lis chocolates, the most expensive French confections in all of Manhattan—plus a copy of the romantic movie, New Year’s Eve. He brushed her lips with his.
“Happy New Year, Gracie,” he said, while taking off his down jacket and hanging it on the coat tree. She took the bag into the kitchen and brought out the platters she had prepared, placing them on the coffee table.
“What’s all this?” he asked.
“Just some nibbles while we watch the movie.” His eyes lit up as he sampled the shrimp then the stuffed mushrooms.
“Did you make these?”
She nodded. “I bet they taste as good as they look,” she said, her eyes twinkling.
Jake sputtered and coughed, choking on a morsel of food. Grace pounded him on the back while she laughed. His face turned red and finally his throat cleared.
“That wasn’t funny,” he wheezed.
“I thought it was. Should have timed it after you’d finished.”
“Ya think?” A smile crossed his lips.
“Can’t forget a great line like that.”
“I wish you would.”
“I bet you do.” Her eyes teased him.
“You’re an amazing woman.” Jake said as he followed her into the kitchen. They brought out the chocolates and champagne. Jake popped the cork and poured, while she set up the movie.
Before long, Cara came out dressed to kill in a low-cut, floor-length black velvet dress with long sleeves. She wore the diamonds Grant had given her for Christmas. The two couples bid each other Happy New Year, and then Grace and Jake were alone. They settled comfortably on the sofa with a hand-crocheted red, orange, gold and black afghan spread over their knees.
Gracie burrowed into his shoulder as he draped his arm around her. Jake’s attention wandered during the movie. He focused on Grace, instead. Playing with her hair, planting kisses on her hand, then moving higher until he’d captured her full attention. She paused the movie when his lips sought hers, giving her mouth up to his. Jake appeared to be in no hurry, slowly exploring her with his tongue.
As the kissing got intense, he eased her back down until he was on top of her. Grace wound her arms around his neck then slid her hands into his hair. When he released her mouth, he began his gentle assault on her neck. Tiny kisses from her earlobe to her shoulder made her shiver. Her breath became ragged. He slipped his hand under her top and up her ribcage.
“You’re not gonna slug me, are you?” He whispered in her ear as he closed his fingers around her breast.
“Uh uh,” she mumbled as his touch sent fire sizzling through her. He wasn’t grabby like he had been the night of the premiere, but gentle and loving instead. He massaged her, taking his time seeking her peak through her bra. Gracie relaxed, allowing the sensations he was creating in her body to take over, shutting down her mind. He kissed her more aggressively.
As he lay atop her, his arousal evident, she arched up into him. He nuzzled her neck, moaning her name. Grasping his shoulders, she hooked her leg around his waist. His fingers closed around her thigh and started to slide up when a cold breeze and a quiet gasp let them know they were no longer alone. Grant and Cara had returned.
The lovers separated in the blink of an eye. Grace smoothed her clothing and straightened her hair with her hands. Jake sat back against the sofa, pulling the afghan across his lap to hide his erection. The would-be lovers wiped their mouths. A snickering chuckle from Grant carried through the hall where the discreet couple waited for a few moments.
Cara coughed and lowered her eyes as she entered the living room. “Sorry. Didn’t occur to me to call when we left the party,” she said.
“It’s okay. No harm, no foul.” Grace tossed her hair.
Jake cleared his throat and took a sip of his champagne. “We have champagne left if you’d like to join us.”
“Thanks, Jake, but it’s already one thirty, and we have a show tomorrow. Goodnight.” Cara and Grant went into their bedroom and closed the door.
“Oh. Right.” He pushed to his feet. Grace followed. Alone in the hall, he pulled her up against him. “Did we almost make love?” he asked.
“A make-out session. Nothing to get bent out
of shape about.” She avoided his stare.
“I see,” he said, nodding, but the gleam in his eye gave off a different message.
“Consider yourself lucky,” she said, sliding her hands up his chest.
He pulled her closer with one arm while his lips kissed her right below her ear. “I do. Very lucky. I have a premiere next month in L.A. Come with me,” he whispered.
“I do need to check on the house. You can stay in our guest room.” She moved toward the front door.
“Guest room?”
“Is that a problem?” She cocked her head.
“Rather stay with you, but the guest room is my second choice.”
“Don’t push your luck,” she said, grinning.
“I’m trying not to.” He shrugged into his jacket while she opened the door.
“Thank you for the roses and chocolates.”
“And thank you for the great food and…whatever.” He tossed her a wicked grin.
“Happy New Year, Jake,” Grace said, leaning in to kiss him. They indulged in a long embrace before separating. After the elevator scooped him up, Gracie returned to her room. Slipping between the sheets and pulling the down quilt up to her chin, she closed her eyes and dreamt about Jake for only a few seconds before she was asleep.
* * * *
The Liberty Connection is a disconnection. The plot is contrived, and the acting is wooden. They lost me in the first ten minutes, as the basic premise was so ridiculous.
I thought the movie was a comedy, a spoof of spy movies. Imagine how disappointed I was to learn the movie was the real thing…or tried to be.
Reviews kept getting shorter and harder to write. Tiffany pushed her to do more, and Grace resisted. Exasperated, Tiffany threatened to expose Grace if she didn’t comply. So the nasty columns, no matter how hard they became, continued, and Grace regretted the day she sought revenge and made a deal with Celebs ’R Us.
Several days passed before she had time to stop and chat with Jake at the theater. She knocked on his dressing room door. When he opened up, she lazed in the doorway, shy about approaching him. He turned on the electric razor he held in one hand while motioning her in with the other.
Bare-chested, clad only in jeans, Jake moved to the mirror and continued shaving. Grace moved closer, fascinated. like a moth drawn to a flame. What a sexy thing to do. She wanted to run her finger down his cheek, following the path he was making.
“What’s up?” he asked, making a face to pull his skin taut so the razor could do its job.
“Culture…” Her mouth went dry as her gaze slid down his body.
“What about it?” He shifted his grimace to shave his upper lip. Grace stared, her eyes riveted to his face.
“Museums…where there’s culture. Wanna do a few museums?”
“Museums?” He ran his hand over his cheek.
I’ll do that. She swallowed.
“Yeah, you know, the big ones, like the Met and the Modern. Then when someone brings it up in conversation, you’ll…we’ll know what they’re talking about.”
“Oh, like at the premiere? I’d like to forget that whole night.”
“Makes two of us. Still, we should know about this stuff.”
“Can’t hurt.” He turned to look at her. “Something wrong? You look…funny. Am I bleeding or something?”
Grace realized the heat she’d been sensing had become a blush, exposing her feelings. “I’m fine.”
“You look like you’re going to pass out,” he said, pulling a chair close to her. “Sit down.”
Gracie sank into it and took a deep breath. “Fine, really.”
“Sure?” She nodded. “Start tomorrow?” She asked.
“Start tomorrow what?”
“The museum!” He nodded.
“Perfect. Pick me up at eleven.” She pushed to her feet. He dropped a quick kiss on the tip of her nose and let loose his electrifying grin. It lit up the whole dressing room and the hallway outside, to boot. Gracie backed down the hall. Jake lounged in the doorway, filling it with his hunky, lanky frame. They stared at each other until Grace’s ringtone broke the spell. It was her dancer friend, Dorrie. Jake went into his room and closed the door.
“Hey, Dorrie, what’s up?”
“I’m in New York!”
“You are? Fabulous!”
“A friend who runs a dance studio sprained her ankle and asked me to fill in for her. So I’m teaching a ballroom dance class…and I’m begging you to come and sign up.”
“Ballroom dance? Jazz is more my style.”
“I know, but I need to fill this class. We’re going to have a contest at the end. It’s just for a few weeks.”
“Do I need a partner?”
“Don’t tell me a hot chick like you doesn’t have a guy in New York?”
“Well, I sort of do, but I don’t think he’s a dancer.”
“Bring him along. We’ll teach him. It’s going to be fun. Pleeaassee…”
“Okay, okay. I suppose an hour of exercise once a week wouldn’t hurt.”
“It’s every day, starting next week. Intense. I’ll email you the stuff.”
“Okay. I’ll see what he says.”
“It’ll be good to see you. How’s that hamstring?”
“All better.”
“Good, now I can give it a workout. Can’t wait to meet your guy.”
“He’s not really my guy…sort of a friend.”
“With benefits?”
“Just a friend.”
“Oh. Too bad. See you next week.” Grace joined Cara in time to fix her hair. “I’m going to take a ballroom dance class with Dorrie.”
“She’s here?” Cara applied lipstick.
“Yep.”
“Partner?”
“Gonna ask Jake. Think that’s a good idea?”
Cara turned to face her. “That’s a great idea. He needs to know how to sing and dance. He’s got the singing down, now the dancing!”
“Dorrie’ll teach him.”
“You’ll teach him, Pookie.” Grace finished combing out Cara and scurried into the wings to take her seat and watch the play for what seemed like the millionth time. Never get tired of watching her act and getting a ton of applause. Not so bad watching Jake, either. He’s really good. She sat back in her folding chair with her bottle of water and turned her gaze to the stage.
When the show was over, Grace hung back, waiting to talk to Jake. As he came down the hall, she grabbed his arm. “Hey…”
“Hey.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Something that can’t wait until tomorrow?”
“Uh, yeah. Sort of. A friend of mine is teaching ballroom dancing here for a few weeks and wants me to take the class. I used to dance. And I need a partner…how about you?” The words came out in a rush.
“Wait a minute. You want me to take dance lessons with your friend?””
“Not ballet or anything. Ballroom.”
“You want me to be your partner in a ballroom dance class?”
“Yep. Cara says if you want to be a good actor, you have to know how to sing and dance. Since you already have the singing nailed…”
A slow grin spread over his face. “Hmm, getting close to you for an hour? Count me in.”
She jumped up and down. “Great! Dorrie will be thrilled.” Are you the nicest man on Earth?
“See you tomorrow at eleven.” He leaned over for a quick kiss goodbye and was gone in a flash.
Cara peeked out. “Well?”
“He said ‘yes’!”
The Brewster sisters linked arms and laughed their way down the hall and into Bobby’s waiting limousine.
* * * *
It was unusually warm for a day in January as Grace and Jake strolled through Central Park on their way to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Grace read from some pages she had printed out. “Where do you want to start, paintings, sculpture, armor, Egyptian mummy stuff, furniture?”
“You pick.”
“I don’t know what
you’re interested in.”
“’Bout time you found out…” He grinned at her, and her insides melted. Why do I like him so much?
He laced his fingers with hers. “Let’s just wander around.”
“Okay.” His grip was strong, warming her small gloveless hand. The sun brightened up the bare, gray tree limbs whose color matched the gray path winding through the park. It wasn’t long before they spotted the back of the museum, rising majestically on the Fifth Avenue side. The huge, slanting wall of glass was unmistakable.
“Holy crap! That’s one big museum,” Jake said. He stopped and pulled her in close as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders.
After entering and obtaining two maps of the imposing structure, they spent most of the morning trying to find their way around and getting lost repeatedly. A quick game of hide ’n seek among the tombs of Egypt had Grace giggling and the other patrons shooting them nasty looks.
Jake treated Gracie to lunch in the cafeteria then they returned to the West Side. As they wended their way home on the twisty path, Grace brought out a small bag of peanuts in shells and stopped a few times to feed hungry gray squirrels. Jake rifled a few to the more timid squirrels, who hung back in the safety of large tree trunks.
As they neared the entrance to Central Park West, he drew her to him and planted a kiss on her lips. “Thank you for today.”
“But we spent most of the time getting lost and didn’t see much.”
“Yeah, but now we know where some stuff is and can come back.”
“Tomorrow morning the dancing begins.”
“Then let’s come back the day after…oops, no, I have a matinée. Thursday?”
“You’re on.”
He walked her to her building, bowed a discreet goodbye, and proceeded to his own small apartment. Grace couldn’t stop smiling. Best date in years…maybe ever. She was humming as she entered.
Cara stopped to stare. “You’re in a good mood.”
“Fun at the Met.”
“Oh, right. Date with Jake. See? Told you he’d be good for you.”
“Know-it-all!” Gracie tossed a throw pillow at her sister.