Claiming Amelia

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Claiming Amelia Page 96

by Jessica Blake


  I thought about going ahead and asking her the question just to put her in her place. She was already opening that ridiculously puffy mouth again though.

  “I mean, can you stand to be seen?”

  The remark felt like a bolt of lightning. Instead of sending me crumbling to the floor, though, it had me sitting up straighter. I stared my unexpected adversary down. “I’ve got nothing to hide.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “Wow. You’re really amazing. You know, I really admire you.”

  I turned my back to her, choosing to stare at the shelf of liquor bottles while sipping my mimosa. Her last remark didn’t even deserve a response.

  “So you want to go?” Rainy asked Madi, as if the whole last minute hadn’t even happened.

  “I’ll see,” Madi casually responded. “Who else will be there?”

  “I don’t know. Ricardo has promised to get us the best booth. Oh, and I heard Leonardo DiCaprio might be coming.”

  “He’s all right,” Madi answered, though she didn’t fool anyone. If the man were standing in front of her at the moment, she would probably be licking the tops of his shoes.

  Madi went on. “Can you even afford to go out, Grace?”

  That one hit me like a whip. I spun around in my seat to face her. “Yes, I can afford to go out.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Rainy said. “We won’t have to pay for anything at Blase anyway.”

  I stared at her. Did she not see how much that dumb comment totally did not help?

  Madi giggled. “Well, that’s good. If Grace does get in a bind, she can always wash dishes in the back.”

  Rainy laughed as well. “Or mop the floor.”

  I resisted the urge to kick her in the shin. Some best friend she was being.

  “I gotta go,” Madi announced. “I’m meeting Katie and Amber.” She gave a half ass wave and walked away, weaving around the tables.

  “You’re a bitch,” I snapped as soon as Madi was out of hearing.

  Rainy looked clueless. “Huh?”

  “You’re making fun of my life here. Or did you forget this is real and not some stupid movie you’re auditioning for?”

  Rainy wrinkled her nose. “Geez. Don’t get your panties in a bunch.”

  “You were completely on her side.”

  Rainy sighed. “Okay. I’m sorry. I got carried away. This is all so... new, you know?”

  “Yeah, I know,” I dismally answered before downing the rest of my drink.

  “Are you coming tonight?”

  “I don’t think I should.”

  She tilted her head, authentically confused. “Why not?”

  “Because it will be just like the last ten minutes... except way worse. Everyone will be there.”

  I thought of Eli, and a pang ripped across my chest. What would he think of me once he found out I was poor? Would he even want to see me ever again?

  I’d heard the term social pariah before, but I’d never thought the day would come when it could be applied to me.

  “Oh my God,” I groaned. “I’m done for.”

  “Stay with me,” Rainy said. “Don’t go to North Carolina. You know my parents won’t mind.”

  I bit my lip, giving it some thought. “I can’t.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it won’t change anything. Everyone knows about what’s happening. How can I face everyone?”

  “They’re going to know whether you live in L.A. or some town no one’s ever heard of.”

  “Unless they don’t know where I went.”

  Rainy cocked her head. “You’re going to lie?”

  I squared my shoulders. “I’ll tell everyone I’m going back to NYU.”

  “You got kicked out of NYU.”

  I glared at her. “I know that. But I’m sure they make special exceptions sometimes. They’ve got to take students back.”

  Rainy looked doubtful. “I guess...”

  “It’s a great idea,” I told her. “As long as you go along with it.”

  Rainy sucked in a slow breath. “All right.”

  “Good.” I grabbed my clutch. “Let’s get out of here. This place is depressing me.”

  I threw some cash on the bar and then stomped off, leading the way to the sidewalk. At the hostess stand, we passed a few men in suits. Rainy waved to them, then stopped like she was going to start up a conversation. Snatching her hand right out of the air, I dragged her through the front door.

  “I don’t want to be here anymore,” I hissed through my teeth.

  She yanked her hand away. “God. What’s your problem? I knew that guy. He was a producer on whatever that last film was my dad did.”

  “So what?” I kept walking, heading past the valet parking stand and down the street.

  “So he’s nice. And kind of cute.” She ran to catch up with me.

  “And old.” I walked faster.

  “No, he’s not. He’s only, like, forty.”

  “He won’t give you a part in his next film.”

  “Where are you going?” she asked, still a couple steps behind me.

  “I don’t know. To drown myself in the ocean maybe.”

  She finally fell into step next to me. “You know, you brought this into your life. You used the Law of Attraction.”

  I shot her a look intended to kill. “Do not start with that bullshit.”

  She scoffed. “What? You went to the workshop with me. You know it’s real.”

  “Then how come you haven’t gotten a part in two years?” I threw back at her.

  She shut her mouth, her lips drawing into a tight line. “I’m glad you’re not coming tonight.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “Nu-uh, you said—”

  I cut her off. “I don’t care what I fucking said, Rainy! My life is falling apart here, and all you care about is whether or not you’ll get a bottle service booth tonight! You think this is all a joke! You’re supposed to be my best friend, the person who’s there for me no matter what.” I stopped walking and turned to face her. “And right now you’re anything but.”

  “That’s not all I care about,” she fiercely said.

  I scoffed. “Oh, sorry. That’s right. You care about whether or not Leonardo DiCaprio is going to be there. News flash. Even if he is, he won’t be sitting at your table.”

  She clamped a hand on a hip and opened her mouth to say something else but was interrupted yet again.

  “Hey, Grace!” someone yelled.

  We both turned to see two teenage boys standing on the curb. One of them had his cell phone pulled out and was apparently filming me.

  “You going to sell all your designer shoes?” he asked.

  Next to me, Rainy gasped. Instantly, my face started to burn.

  I turned my back to the boy. “Come on,” I told Rainy. “Let’s go.”

  I started walking, but she didn’t move. “Rainy,” I hissed at her. “Let’s go.”

  The boy with the phone came closer, getting within a few yards of us. “Say something to the world, Grace. Tell them what it’s like to fall from the top.”

  I kept my face passive, glad I was wearing sunglasses that hid my eyes so well.

  Never once had a random person on the street known who I was... and now?

  Fame truly wasn’t all it’s cracked up to be.

  “Fuck off,” Rainy told the kid.

  “Rainy,” I repeated, keeping my voice even and emotionless. An outburst was what the guy was looking for, after all. The more passive we stayed, the fewer hits the video would get on YouTube.

  Our aggressor only took a step closer, coming within inches of Rainy.

  “Hey,” he said to her. “Why don’t...?”

  Rainy reached up and knocked the phone from his hand. It crashed to the concrete and smashed into several pieces, one of which skidded underneath a car parked on the street.

  The second boy burst into laughter.

  “You bitch!” the wannabe paparazzo spat at Rainy.


  Rainy flipped him the bird. “Lick my clit.”

  She turned and stomped away, taking my hand as she passed me.

  The boys yelled behind us, shooting insults our way, but neither Rainy or I looked back.

  At the valet stand, we finally stopped walking. Rainy got busy digging her ticket from her purse. “Little dick,” she muttered.

  The valet gave her a stink eye.

  “Not you,” she told him, handing him her ticket.

  “Thank you,” I muttered to her.

  Rainy hooked her arm in mine. “Hey. I’m your best friend. Remember? I’m sorry if I was distracted by other things. I’m here for you.”

  I smiled weakly. “Even if I’m in North Carolina?”

  “Ehh,” she said, pretending to consider the issue.

  I poked her in her side. “Bitch.”

  ***

  “I’m going to go,” I announced to my dad as I stood in the doorway of his office at our house.

  He gazed up at me, not looking surprised in the slightest.

  “What?” I asked. “Aren’t you going to ask me why?”

  Sighing, he leaned forward and started messing with some papers on the desk. “I can guess why.”

  I bit my bottom lip. The phone started ringing, and he glanced at its screen. “I have to take this.”

  I turned to go.

  “By the way,” he announced. “I already got your ticket. You’re leaving tomorrow.”

  “Wh-what?” I sputtered.

  He picked up the receiver. “Go ahead,” he said into it.

  My hands balled into fists. Anger rose in me, but I wasn’t entirely sure what I was the angriest about. Was it that my dad correctly predicted that I would finally go without a fight or that he gave me only twenty-four hours, presumably, to pack my bags?

  Either way, I was furious. Or maybe depressed... I wasn’t really sure.

  All I knew was my life was getting flipped upside down, and no matter what was to come next, there was no way I could prepare for it.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Grace

  The flight attendant’s voice came over the intercom, and I lifted my sleep mask to peek at the seat in front of me. Slowly, I let the blind up. Sunlight poured through the thick window. The plane was already on the tarmac, parked in position. All around me, people unbuckled their seat belts and stood up. Somehow I’d slept through the previous announcement about arriving at our destination.

  “Ugh,” I muttered to myself, reaching underneath the seat for my purse. The trip from LAX to RDU had been my first time flying coach. Apparently my dad had been telling the truth about us being flat broke.

  I hadn’t even had enough suitcases to pack everything I wanted to bring, so I’d made my dad promise to put the rest of the stuff in storage. The way I saw it, everything was temporary. He was, after all, going to New York to sort everything out. Sooner or later things would be back to normal. Maybe he wouldn’t have to sell the Hollywood Hills house after all. Hell, maybe we’d get to move into a bigger and more expensive home. That would show Madi and the rest of the stupid pack that hung around her.

  I pushed my sunglasses on as tight as they would go and thought about Eli. He’d stopped by to see me the night before. I kept to the lie I’d already committed myself to, the one about me going back to school in New York. To keep up with appearances, I told him that, even though it was so late in the year, NYU had made an exception for me. I also let him know that I would likely be pretty busy for the next couple months, but once things got settled, I would love for him to come visit me.

  Of course, that meant working things out so I could get up to New York for a weekend. And then I’d have to find some way to keep up the facade...

  But I’d figure all of that out when the time came. The point was that the complications were worth it. After years of nothing more than heavy flirting, things were finally moving along with Eli and me, and I wasn’t about to just let him go.

  The airport was close to empty, which seemed incredibly odd for a Sunday afternoon.

  God, this really is the middle of nowhere.

  I found my way to the baggage wheels in no time at all. With only two suitcases, even though they were large ones, I’d brought not even a third of my wardrobe — and that was after setting aside the stuff to go into storage. When I asked my dad to ship the rest to me, he sighed and acted like I was being a burden. In the end — and after a little bit of guilting him — he’d agreed to get LuLu to pack my clothes up.

  Taking the two handles, I pulled the bags toward the sliding doors, looking all around for Uncle Joe. Hopefully, he would recognize me on sight because God knew I was going to have trouble finding him. If my memory served me right, he basically looked like almost every other middle aged white guy. Short dark hair. Medium height. A bit of pudge on him.

  “Grace!” came a man’s voice from the short row of cars waiting to pick up passengers.

  Yep. He really was just as I remembered him.

  I breathed a sigh of relief over him recognizing me and lugged my suitcases over to where he stood waving by a red SUV.

  “How was your flight?” he asked, opening one of the back doors and setting the suitcases on the seats.

  Lame. “Good,” I lied.

  “You must be tired. Let’s get you home.”

  I tried not to cringe at his last word. I knew I should have been grateful to Joe for letting me stay with him, but was he seriously suggesting that North Carolina was my new home?

  We climbed in the front seat, with him talking the whole time. “You’re going to love Crystal Brook. It’s a lot different from Los Angeles, but it’s a nice place. Aunt Ginger is excited to see you too. It’s been so long.”

  “Yeah,” I agreed.

  He buckled his seat belt and looked at me. “You’re exhausted. Sorry. I’ll stop talking.”

  “Thanks.” I attempted a smile. Depressed was more like it, but I would pretend I was tired if that was what it took to avoid a full blown conversation.

  The road’s four lanes merged into three and then two as we left the airport behind. Just like inside, the traffic outside of the Raleigh Durham airport was nearly opposite of that back at LAX. Joe took a right onto an interstate, and I stared out the window.

  I’d never been to Crystal Brook. With each mile we gained, my chest constricted more and more. Somehow, I didn’t think the town was going to be anything like a smaller version of Hyannis Port, the vacation spot I’d gone to at least once a year for the last decade.

  Worst case scenario, it would be a place with one stop light and greasy spoon diners decorated with questionably racist paintings.

  Uncle Joe made a bit of small talk on the ride, but not so much that it became unbearable. Mostly, he wanted to know what I’d been up to in California — spending time with friends — and whether or not I followed sports — the Lakers, exclusively.

  After taking the exit, we passed an outdoor shopping mall reminiscent of the types of places I faithfully stayed away from in L.A. The chain sandwich shops and dollar stores gave way to fast food restaurants, which gave way to more trees. All of a sudden, brick buildings popped up, squished together behind sidewalks on both sides of the road. Uncle Joe slowed down, and we drove through a square with an ancient looking courthouse in the middle of it.

  So far, not too bad. At least the place had a certain cuteness to it, even if that was the only attribute it seemed to possess. I rolled down my window and sucked in a breath of thick breeze. North Carolina was just as hot as L.A. had been but held one difference: the air was so thick that when it hit me, it felt like a layer of sweat sitting on my face.

  A family with several small children walked across the courtyard, and Uncle Joe stopped to let them cross the street. After he hit the gas again, the downtown area was gone in just a few seconds. Tall, mostly white two story houses passed by. In front of about half of them, wooden signs swung, denoting their names and the years they were built. Named afte
r birds and women, they were all picturesque, with lush flower gardens and tons of windows.

  I kept my eyes peeled, studying the few people on the sidewalks in order to get a sense of the general populace I would be working with. An elderly couple ambled down the street, two little white dogs walking on leashes at their sides. A young woman who looked barely older than me pushed a baby stroller. I cringed at the thought of having a kid at twenty-two. Was that the norm in North Carolina?

  The stroller disappeared, and another person came into view, one with two broad shoulders and a profile chiseled out of stone. I sat up straighter.

  The characteristics mentioned belonged to a tall guy with dark blond hair and chiseled forearms. He walked along the sidewalk, his face turned away from the road. I leaned forward so much my head nearly poked out of the open window. By the time we pulled up to him, though, he had pivoted to head up a walkway to a large yellow house.

  I kept watching in the rear view mirror, hoping he would turn around. The road took a curve, though, and he disappeared from sight.

  At least I know there’s one hot guy in this town, I told myself, trying desperately to look at the bright side.

  The houses became smaller and farther apart. Uncle Joe took a couple turns, and we ended up in a neighborhood that screamed stereotypical small-town America. Each yard was impeccably mowed, and the difference from one plot to the next was excruciatingly minimal.

  We pulled into a driveway next to a one story brick house. Rose bushes lined the walkway from the cars to the front door and a flag I didn’t recognize protruded from the front porch to wave in the breeze. I took a second look and saw that it was the North Carolina state flag. The front door opened, and Aunt Ginger appeared on the porch, her silver streaked brown hair in a braid. It occurred to me that it had been so long since I’d seen my aunt and uncle that I wasn’t even really sure how to address them anymore. Were ‘Aunt’ and ‘Uncle’ still okay to use after you came into adulthood?

  The uncle in question climbed out of the car and grabbed one of my suitcases. Snatching up my purse, I started for the door.

  From the stoop, Aunt Ginger smiled at me and batted her eyelashes. “Grace,” she cooed. “How was your flight?”

  I gave the answer she wanted. “Good.”

 

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