Jane Austen Goes to Hollywood

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Jane Austen Goes to Hollywood Page 18

by Abby McDonald


  “Oh.”

  Her heart sank as she spied the boy sitting in front of the fire. Messy brown hair instead of Dakota’s dark curls; a preppy parka and khakis where skinny jeans and leather should be.

  “It’s you,” she said, disappointment in every syllable.

  Theo turned at the sound of her voice. “Hallie, hey!” He got up to greet her, then paused, noticing her expression. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” Hallie sighed. “I just thought you were someone else.”

  “Sorry.” Theo gave her an awkward hug.

  “What are you even doing out here?” Hallie asked. She could hear the petulant note in her tone, but she didn’t care. Everyone was showing up except the one person she wanted more than anything!

  “We’re spending the holidays with my grandma here in the city,” Theo explained. “There’s a holiday party, tomorrow night. I thought maybe you’d want to come. Both of you,” he added, looking around hopefully.

  “I’m going to Dakota’s show,” Hallie told him. “But I guess Grace could come. Why don’t you ask her?” she added as Grace reached them, Lucy following behind. “Look who came to visit,” Hallie told Grace meaningfully. “Isn’t that great?”

  Grace didn’t speak. Instead, it was Lucy who lit up. “Teddy!” she cried. “Oh, my God. I didn’t think you were coming until next week!”

  Hallie looked back and forth between them. “Wait, how do you two know each other?”

  Theo flushed. “I . . . um . . . we . . .”

  “They met over the summer,” Grace said, her voice dull. “In the Hamptons.”

  “Huh. Small world.” Hallie shrugged. Theo was still frozen, turning redder by the second. “Anyway, his folks are throwing some party tomorrow, he came to see if you’d come.”

  “I’d love to!” Lucy piped up. Hallie was about to point out that he hadn’t actually meant her, when Grace backed away, knocking into an antique side table.

  “I need to go,” Grace said, looking strained. “Headache. I have to lie down.”

  “But Theo came to see you.” Hallie stared at her, confused. Was Grace completely oblivious? This was her one true love in front of her, with that puppy-dog look and everything! “You should have a coffee. Catch up!”

  “I can’t. But, thanks.” Grace gave Theo a weak smile and then took off across the lobby, almost at a run. Hallie watched her go, frowning. That had been downright impolite, and her sister, no matter what, was never rude. Even when creepy homeless guys accosted her on the subway, Grace would always smile and tell them she was sorry, but she didn’t have any change.

  “I better go too,” Hallie told them. “Make sure she’s OK.”

  “Right,” Theo said, looking downcast.

  “That’s OK!” Lucy trilled happily. “I’ll keep him company.”

  Hallie caught up with Grace by the elevators. “Are you crazy?” she asked. “Why did you blow him off? He came to see you, anyone could tell.”

  Grace just shook her head, but when the doors closed behind them, Hallie heard a muffled sob. She looked over. Grace was crying.

  Crying!

  Hallie gasped. “What’s wrong?” She couldn’t remember Grace crying since . . . since never. Not even at their father’s funeral!

  “He’s with Lucy,” Grace told her, lips trembling. “They hooked up over the summer. She’s been visiting him at college. They’re in love.” Her voice twisted on the last word.

  “No . . .” Hallie breathed, remembering Lucy’s smug comments about lingerie and secret rendezvous. “That bitch!”

  “It’s not her fault.” Grace sniffed, clearly miserable. “It’s mine, for ever even thinking . . .” The elevator doors opened. Grace slumped miserably down the hall to their suite; swiping uselessly with her key card until Hallie took it from her and let them in.

  “Look at me,” Grace sniffled. “I can’t even open a door.”

  Hallie shook her head. Doors weren’t the problem here, no, their problem was five six, with freckles and a snooty British accent. She knew there was something off about the girl. Nobody was that nice to small children without hiding some dark, twisted heart.

  “How do you know all this?” Hallie demanded. “Wait, did she tell you?”

  Grace threw herself on the couch. “Why wouldn’t she? She thinks I’m her friend. She doesn’t know . . .”

  Hallie wasn’t so sure.

  “And Theo?” she asked. “What does he say?”

  “He didn’t.” Grace sat up, eyes puffy. “He didn’t say a thing. Not that he’d met someone, or that they were still together. It’s probably the real reason he was he in L.A., that time he came to visit. He came to see her.”

  She gave Hallie a dejected look, so defeated that it took Hallie’s breath away. She sank on the couch beside Grace, guilt suddenly blossoming in her chest. All this time, she’d figured Grace’s feelings were a childish crush; something to tease her about. But this wasn’t the end of something light and silly, this was real heartbreak on her sister’s face.

  “How long have you known?” she asked gently.

  “Since October.” Her sister curled up. “It was this big secret, she swore I couldn’t tell.”

  “So all this time . . . ?” Hallie remembered their fight — how she’d accused Grace of being a coward, when, really, she’d been suffering just the same as Hallie: pining for a boy who was out of reach. “Oh, Grace . . .” She reached out and stroked her sister’s hair.

  “It’s my own fault.” Grace sighed. “I shouldn’t have thought we could . . . That he felt . . .”

  “But he did. He does!” Hallie insisted. “Everyone can see.”

  Grace shook her head. “No, he’s just a friend. He was being nice to me, that’s all, after Dad died. I was the one who wanted it to be something more.”

  Hallie tried to smile. “At least you finally admit it.” Grace stared back blankly. “Your feelings,” Hallie explained. “That’s the first time you’ve ever come out and said you like him.”

  Grace laughed, hollow. “Right. Because that helps me now.”

  They sat in silence for a moment. “Sorry,” Hallie offered at last. “For being so, you know . . .”

  “Oblivious and self-involved?” Grace suggested, but there was a ghost of a smile on her lips all the same.

  Hallie grinned, relieved. “I was going more for single-minded, but sure.”

  “It wouldn’t have made a difference”— Grace sighed —“even if you had known.”

  “But we could have been in it together: losing them.”

  Grace looked at her, plaintive. Resigned. “No. You were right. He was never even mine to lose. You at least had Dakota.”

  “Have,” Hallie corrected quickly. “Or, at least I will, come Monday.”

  Grace rested her head against Hallie’s shoulder, snuggling closer, the way they used to do as kids, bundled up in the den watching Disney movies. “I hope so,” she said. “I really do. Because nobody should have to feel like this. Not even you.”

  “Thanks!”

  “You know what I mean.”

  Hallie wanted to skip the Coates Family’s Christmas Nightmare altogether, but Grace insisted they at least drop by. “Theo will know something’s wrong, otherwise,” she said forlornly.

  “So?” Hallie blotted her lipstick, already breathless with excitement for Dakota’s show. “It is!”

  “But I can’t have him know that. Please, Hallie,” Grace added, “I mean it. The one thing that would make all of this worse is if he knows I’m upset about Lucy. It would ruin everything!”

  To Hallie, it seemed like Theo had done all the ruining himself, but Grace was insistent, and so early Monday evening found the sisters outside the penthouse of a snooty doorman building on the Upper East Side. “Another penthouse.” Grace sighed, stamping her feet on the rug.

  “It’s because they like looking down on people,” Hallie replied, before the door swung open.

  “Girls!” Portia cr
ied, blinking at them. She was wearing a severe white dress with diamonds twinkling at her throat — not so much the merry widow, Hallie noted, as the positively glowing one. “What are you . . . ? I mean, welcome!”

  Hallie smirked. Ruffling Portia’s precious feathers? That was worth coming for all on its own.

  Grace exhaled. “Didn’t Theo say he invited us?”

  “No, no, it must have slipped his mind.” Portia gave them a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Anyway, come on in. The more the merrier!” She waved them inside.

  The girls followed her in. It was one of those echoing, old-style apartments: tall windows and bare floorboards, cluttered with antique furniture and tight little groups of stiff-backed guests in cocktail outfits sipping wine. Only the tree in the corner, and the faint sound of carols on the stereo, gave any hint that it was a holiday party. “Help yourself to a drink.” Portia waved at the circulating waiters. “Juice, of course. Dash is in the playroom, but I’m sure he’d love to see you.”

  “Thanks.” Grace smiled politely. There was a pause.

  “Well, then . . .” Portia blinked. “Lovely to see you. We’ll catch up!” She turned on her perilously high heels and quickly disappeared into the crowd.

  “These people sure could use some Christmas spirit,” Hallie murmured, looking around. “They look more like Scrooges in here.”

  “Shh,” Grace hissed. “They’re family.”

  Hallie rolled her eyes. As far as she was concerned, family was something you chose, not got lumbered with because of your father’s brief lapse in sanity. These people may be tied to her by marriage and law, but they were clearly no relation. Just look at all this tweed!

  “We only stay an hour, max,” Hallie reminded her. “I don’t want to be late for the show.”

  “We’re not even going in,” Grace argued. “It’s sold out. And I’m not going to freeze on the sidewalk for hours when —”

  They were interrupted by a burst of laughter. Lucy was in the corner, wearing a demure pale-pink dress and chatting happily with a trio of white-haired old ladies in pearls. Hallie felt Grace tense beside her. “Pink?” Hallie snorted quietly. “With her hair? Please.”

  Grace gave a weak smile, then took a deep breath, as if bracing herself. “We better circulate. Go say hi to everyone.”

  “Make it loud,” Hallie added. “So the old folks can all hear.”

  After explaining for the fifth time that, yes, they really were related to little Dash — and wasn’t that just amazing? — Hallie was ready to bail.

  “I’ll pay you a hundred bucks to leave right now,” she offered, gulping the grape juice that all the children had been relegated to. Hallie supposed she should just be happy they hadn’t offered it in a sippy cup.

  “You don’t have a hundred bucks,” Grace pointed out. “I bet you don’t even have ten after buying that dress.”

  Hallie grinned, giving a little twirl. “Worth it, though, right? Anyway, I’ll owe you.”

  Grace shook her head.

  “Pretty please?” Hallie begged. “Seriously, one of those old men just asked where I went on vacation to get so tan.”

  Grace sighed. “We can’t go yet, it would be rude.”

  “And he wasn’t?”

  “Grace!” Lucy’s breathless cry made them turn; the British girl descended, lavishing air-kisses on both of their cheeks in turn. “Isn’t this party the best? I chatted with Theo’s grandmother for half an hour. I don’t know what he was so worried about, the woman’s a doll!”

  Grace’s smile was thin. “That’s great.”

  “Isn’t it?” Lucy’s eyes were wide, but now that she knew what to look for, Hallie could see the steel behind them. “Now that I’m getting to know them all, there’s no reason for us to keep our relationship a secret anymore. Theo will be so relieved.”

  “Will he?” Hallie asked. Lucy blinked at her.

  “Of course. It’s been so hard on him, not being able to tell anyone.”

  “Right.” Hallie kept a smile fixed on her face. “Except usually, if a guy really likes you, he wants to tell the whole world. Unless, it’s like some dirty little secret.” Grace’s elbow dug into her side, but Hallie couldn’t resist finishing. “You know, a mistake, that he’s ashamed about.”

  Lucy’s smile dissolved so fast it could have set a record. “Theo and me are in love,” she said, practically hissing.

  There! Hallie knew that whole Mary Poppins routine was an act!

  “I,” she corrected, not able to resist a tiny dig. Lucy frowned. “It’s Theo and I,” Hallie explained, smirking. “I thought you Brits were sticklers for grammar.”

  Grace coughed. “Ooh, look, cookies!” She tried to drag Hallie away. Hallie stood fast.

  “If you’re so in love, why aren’t you over there with him now?” She fluttered a wave across the room at Theo. He saw them all, froze, and then promptly turned and headed in the other direction.

  Sure, like that was a boy in the grips of a secret wild passion.

  “Whoops,” Hallie said, sarcastic. “He must not have seen you.”

  “He saw me.” Lucy pulled herself up to her full height, giving Hallie a smug look. “We just agreed not to go public tonight. Agreed it last night. Which we spent together. At his place.”

  Hallie heard Grace’s pained intake of breath and snapped. She lurched forward, spilling red grape juice all down the front of Lucy’s dress.

  “Oh, no!” Hallie cried. “I’m so clumsy. You better go wash that out before it stains!”

  Lucy glared at her, openmouthed, but no sound came out. Finally, she spun on her heel and fled toward the bathroom.

  “Hallie!” Grace dragged her into the empty kitchen, countertops full of hors d’oeuvre platters and empty wine glasses. Grace shut the door behind them and turned on Hallie. “I can’t believe you did that!”

  “It was for you!” Hallie protested. “I was helping!”

  “I don’t want your help,” Grace told her. “It was mean, and immature, and . . . and . . .” A tiny smile bubbled to her lips. “Did you see her face?”

  Hallie grinned. “Priceless. Now, the stain should keep her busy for a while, so you go get back out there with Theo and fight.”

  “But I don’t want to.” Grace sagged against the kitchen cabinets. “I don’t want to fight. It shouldn’t be a competition. Either he likes me or he doesn’t, and, well . . . clearly he doesn’t.”

  “There’s no clearly about it,” Hallie insisted. “Did you hear her story? Something’s not right. I bet you she’s lied about everything.”

  “But why?” Grace countered. “Why go through all the trouble pretending, when we could easily find out just by asking Theo?”

  “So why don’t you?” Hallie asked.

  Grace looked away.

  There was a noise in the doorway. “Hey, you two, champagne’s running thin.”

  They both turned. It was the Ivy League guy from Bergdorf’s, Hallie realized: floppy blond hair and an expensive watch. He looked at them impatiently. “The trays. We need fresh bottles out there.”

  Hallie blinked, confused, but Grace snorted under her breath. “He thinks we’re the help,” she explained to Hallie, voice brittle. “I can’t imagine why.”

  They exchanged a look.

  “Who are you exactly?” Hallie asked him.

  Ivy League looked thrown. “Rex Coates. This is my family’s party.”

  “And we’re part of the family.” Hallie gave him a deadly smile. “Your step-sisters.”

  There was a beat, but Rex didn’t even have the decency to apologize. He frowned again, processing the information, then shrugged. “If you do see the real staff, tell them about the champagne, OK?” He turned to go. “Oh, and happy holidays.”

  The kitchen door closed behind him. Hallie shook her head in disbelief. “This family! They are all freaking insane,” she declared.

  “Except Theo,” Grace said quietly.

  “Keep telling yo
urself that.” Hallie wasn’t so sure. “You still care if these people think you’re polite or not?”

  Grace wavered, then shook her head. Finally! Some sense. Hallie linked her arm through Grace’s. “Then let’s get the hell out of here.”

  Hallie didn’t have tickets for the sold-out show — or the money to spend two hundred bucks on scalped passes from the seedy guys lurking around outside the club — so she figured the backstage entrance was her best bet. Simply wait by the stage door once the show was over, intercept Dakota on his way out, and voilà! The reunion she’d been dreaming about. Sure, the back alley was strewn with garbage instead of rose petals, but the setting didn’t matter; once she and Dakota were together again, they could retire back to the Waldorf-Astoria to catch up; the important part was that she was finally — finally! — going to see him again.

  “You’re sure it’s not too late to talk you out of this?” Grace asked, following Hallie around to the back of the club. There were two dozen fans waiting there already, and the line out front of the show had stretched around the block, easily their biggest audience to date. Hallie couldn’t help feeling a glow of pride on Dakota’s behalf. They were doing it: the band was really breaking out!

  “We could go back to the hotel and splurge on room service,” Grace continued, bundled up and blowing on her hands like she was deep in Arctic Russia. “The warm, toasty hotel. With heated towels and an adjustable thermostat.”

  “Don’t be such a baby,” Hallie told her. She was shaking too, but her tremors were from pure nervous excitement. “A little cold never hurt anyone!”

  “Except for all those people who die from hypothermia!”

  Hallie ignored her protests, cutting ruthlessly right to the front of the crowd. She quickly scoped out her competition for the band’s attention. Underage fangirls, she decided: clutching posters for the band to sign, their cameras at the ready. Dakota wouldn’t give them a second glance.

  Grace ducked in behind her, apologizing as she went. “What are you going to do if this doesn’t work out?”

 

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