If the world was fair, she wouldn’t have an alcoholic mother. She wouldn’t be attracting commitment-phobic losers into her life when all she wanted was a good man who would marry her.
Rosie trembled. “I’ve worked hard, okay? I worked really hard. I’m supposed to be successful. I’m talented, I’m beautiful, I’m a great actress. I deserve to be a big star. I deserve to be noticed. But why am I not famous yet? Because losers like you keep taking away roles.”
“How childish, to blame your problems on others.” The whir of the projector faded from the background.
“You’re the problem.” Bony knuckles were protruding through Rosie’s tightly clenched fists.
“No, you are,” Bella retorted.
Rosie must have been the prettiest girl in her high school, the star of the school play, the center of her small universe. And now she expected the world to fall into her lap.
“How dare you say that? You’re so fat!” Rosie screamed, hurling a dirty tissue at her.
“That’s the best insult you can come up with? Fat?” Sucking in a breath, Bella scratched behind her ear—something she always did before she lied. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m very comfortable with my weight.”
“Losers always say that.” The ugly pout smeared Rosie’s red lipstick.
Bella squared her jaw. “Well, I’m not a loser.”
Losers didn’t have PhDs or tenured positions at prestigious universities. As long as she focused on her accomplishments and not on her appearance, she would come out of this okay.
“I’m more beautiful than you. I’m thinner. I deserve to have a better life!” Rosie continued to repeat her tantrums.
Bella waved. She was at the end of her patience. “I’m not interested in listening to this. You can continue this self-pity rant on your own. I’m going.”
Quickly grabbing her bag, Bella dashed out of the room fuming.
She’d had it. She’d had it with crazy bitches. She’d had it with being called fat. She’d had it with everything.
The entertainment industry was no place for her. If she had an iota of sense, she’d never have pushed herself into this shark tank again.
She could have been in the Bahamas, spending her Friday lazily curled up on the sand and getting a tan. Or in France, romancing her own Mr. Happily Ever After.
Why on God’s green earth had she decided that becoming an actress was a better idea than sun bathing on a tropical island?
Jamie. It was all his fault. Geminis and their sweet talking. Urgh!
Marching towards the exit, Bella wasn’t pleased when she saw Jamie’s form eagerly coming towards her. Ruffled by her encounter with Rosie, Bella didn’t trust herself to not snap around him.
“Why’re you still wearing that?” Jamie asked, hooking a hand around her shoulder.
Baring her teeth at him, Bella yanked his hand away.
“Because one of your stupid actresses ruined my clothes,” she barked out, throwing her messed up tee at him. It ballooned and fell on his face.
He plucked it away and regarded it with a wary expression. “Rosie, I’m guessing. She’s the only one who could spell stupid wrong.”
Edging a grin her way, he gave her a completely non-apologetic headshake.
That just incensed her. Was this a joke to him? She was being bullied by her co-star, and the best he could do was make fun of Rosie’s spelling?
Anger sizzled in her.
Promising herself that she wasn’t going to stay in this toxic, unsupportive environment for one more minute, she tipped her chin up to Jamie.
“I want to quit.” Her body was rigid, unmoving, just like her opinion.
Jamie inhaled a panicked breath when he caught how serious she was. “No.”
Bella inched up a shoulder blade. “Yes, yes, yes. I’m quitting. I’ve had enough of this. My co-star’s behaving like a middle school bully. I suck at acting. I’ve made no friends. I’m losing time which could be spent getting a boyfriend. It doesn’t matter how much you pay me. I can’t do this to myself.”
Jamie clapped his shoe on the ground. A loud tap sound resounded.
“I could tell you all the legal reasons that would be a bad idea.” He paused. “But maybe we should get you something dry to wear first.” He surveyed the massive dark blot on her front. “There are spare T-shirts in Cathy’s room.”
They walked her to a dressing room, where Catherine was leisurely sipping a smoothie. She didn’t mind the intrusion.
Retrieving an oversized black T-shirt for her which said ‘Born This Way,’ Jamie handed it to her. It was too goth for her liking, but she wouldn’t look too out of place amongst the college students on the subway wearing this.
Gratefully grabbing it, Bella borrowed the dressing room from Catherine and rid herself of the wet T-shirt.
When she came out, Jamie regarded her carefully.
“What’s on my face?” She slanted her lashes up.
“I was thinking that you look a lot like Adele,” he said. “The singer.”
Did he think she wouldn’t understand which Adele he was referring to?
“Are you calling me fat?”
Raising his open palms in the air, Jamie dropped an emphatic sigh. “You really need to work on your self-esteem, honey. A man can’t even pay you a compliment without tripping over your insecurity.”
Bella strutted ahead on her heels, exiting the studio. “I’m not insecure. Merely suspicious.”
Jamie guffawed. “Merely? Who even uses ‘merely’ in daily conversations?”
“Me. And a lot of other intellectuals.” Wiping away sweat from the crease of her neck, Bella swiveled in the opposite direction.
“Not that way. This is the way out.” Jamie tapped her arm, and her cheeks glowed like Rudolph’s nose.
“I could’ve figured that out on my own,” Bella muttered.
“Okay, I get it. You had a bad day. But being angry won’t change anything. How about we grab some ice cream to cool your temper down? There’s a great place ‘round the corner.”
“I don’t need the extra fat.” Nor did she need any extra time with him.
“It’s low fat,” Jamie informed. “And so delicious, you’ll forget why you were worked up.”
“Leave me alone.” This time she used a stronger voice and slung her bag over her shoulder, letting the movement lengthen the distance between them.
When she was at the other end of the corridor, Bella looked over her shoulder. He was gone. Suddenly, her surroundings felt bare.
Shaking her senseless thoughts away, she stuffed earbuds into her ears, and invited the real Adele into her world.
Chapter 5
The company picnic was the one place Grant didn’t expect to see Eve.
In the six plus years she’d been with Star Studios, she’d made it a ritual to avoid these picnics. No doubt, she saw them as a thinly-veiled excuse to kiss up to the senior management. This year, however, with the possibility of promotion looming, she wouldn’t want to miss her chance of scoring a favorable impression. Predictable, that woman. And way too ambitious.
Grant didn’t want to strike up a conversation with her. After the argument they’d had at his house, they’d mostly managed to stay out of each other’s way.
But he couldn’t say she was staying out of his mind. Day after day, his attraction to her was growing stronger. She was his obsession now, and he didn’t know if he was comfortable with being obsessed over something as old as her.
When her tawny eyes met his, he knew he was gone.
“Having a good time?” The words rolled off his lemonade-soaked tongue casually. He gave her a dispassionate, social hug.
“Yes,” Eve said, with an arm around one of her daughters. “My girls. Carla and Alana.”
Eve beamed, showing them off like a proud mama.
He’d met Carla and Alana a long time ago, at some other company event when they’d both been incredibly gawky and unsocial.
The
older one seemed to have outgrown her social awkwardness and looked pretty normal now. She had a moderately fashionable haircut, wore clothes that were age-appropriate, and could even wield makeup to her advantage.
The other one, though. Grant shook his head at her in sympathy.
Suspenders, acne, and out-of-style bangs—high school must be brutal for this kid.
“Mom, I’m gonna go get some food.” Alana broke away from their small group of four.
“You want to go, too?” Eve patted Carla’s back, who scrunched her lips and frowned at her mother.
“Better than being around you.” Carla trailed Alana, like a faithful terrier.
A little embarrassed, Eve shifted her plastic cup filled with Coke to the other hand. “They’re so difficult at this age. How did you deal with Jamie when he was this age?”
Grant chuckled, paying attention to the faint blush rising on the apples of her cheeks. “I’m the worst person to get parenting advice from.”
“Being a parent is hard,” Eve mused, pinning her daughters with an angry glance, when they hovered too close to the alcohol.
She held her glass over her mouth and Coke lapped against her lips, but she didn’t swallow.
“If you want parenting to be easy, you’ve gotta stop parenting. Just let them loose and let them clean up their own messes. They grow up real fast that way.”
Drops of Coke spilled when she tipped her glass involuntarily. “You’re right. You suck at giving parenting advice.”
The comment didn’t affect him. For a woman like her, her capability as a mother might weigh heavily on her self-esteem and how successful she considered herself as a human being, but for him, being a father was just another role he had to play. As any actor knew, roles were not worth getting attached to. They didn’t define an actor. And how he was as a father didn’t define his life or his self-worth.
“Don’t worry. They’ll be fine. They’re beautiful and intelligent, like their mom.”
Casually, Eve slugged down more Coca-Cola than she should be slugging in one go. “Keep admiring them from a distance.”
Grant smoothed over the awkward moment with a throaty laugh, only too aware of what she meant. She, along with everyone else, viewed him as a cradle-robber. That wasn’t far-off, but he had standards, too. College girls were too young, clingy and immature. He had no patience to deal with drama, so he stuck to above twenty-seven.
“Are they in high school?”
“No. Alana’s a sophomore at Dartmouth. Engineering.” Eve glowed with a proud smile. “Carla’s in her senior year of high school, though. She’s thinking of majoring in chemistry in college.”
“So they’re both going to college. That’s great.”
“I want them to have the best education they can. It’s what I work hard for.” There was a trace of longing in her voice. “I’d be happy if Carla could make it to Stanford.”
“Isn’t that where you went?”
“Best years of my life.” Her eyes glazed. “I was the President of the Feminist Society, and I made so many friends I’m still in touch with. I won’t forget my time at college.”
Grant cocked his head. “Feminist Society. Shoulda seen that coming.”
Eve started strolling towards the hotel, which was part of the beach resort the company picnic was at. Her loose dress fell over her knees, and her hair flapped about her face.
Grant followed her in.
She looked like she was searching for something in the hotel lobby.
“You never went to college.” Distractedly, she talked. “Do you wish you had?”
Grant gave an indifferent shrug. “Nah. I always knew I wasn’t the brightest crayon in the box, but at least I had a decent face.” He served her one of his charming smiles. “Figured there was no point in wasting my time in college, so I packed my bags for Hollywood instead.”
“It was a lucrative decision.” Eve dumped her plastic cup in a bin. The lemonade in his hand had lost all its chill, so Grant got rid of it, too.
“I got lucky,” he admitted.
He’d never imagined making it this big, although he’d always wanted to. In his heart, he craved attention and status the way an addict craved drugs. He always had.
“So why don’t you act anymore? I don’t remember your popularity ever dropping, but you just left and decided to run a company one day.”
“I felt like I’d reached a different stage in life. I wanted to do something different.”
Because as much he loved attention, he loved security and power more. He’d not grown up rich, and being poor again wasn’t an appealing thought. Besides, he’d been getting tired of the women in Hollywood. Moving to New York and helping his friend with the then-fledgling Star Studios had sounded like a good idea.
The hem of Eve’s dress swished about her knees. “You were a good actor. My mother liked you.”
Stunned that she’d said something good about him to his face, Grant gripped her arm when she stopped near an alcove. “You didn’t?”
“I liked your work.”
Soft orange light made her skin shimmer, snatching away the years from her face. She had a beautiful face, now that he looked at it carefully.
“Are you seeing someone?” Grant asked, startling her.
He expected her to pull one of her annoyed faces and tell him to butt out of her personal life, but she didn’t.
“Trying to. You want to recommend someone to me?”
“How about me?”
She coughed out a laugh. “Good one.”
His ego took a blow at that one. He’d never had a problem with a woman not taking him seriously. “I mean it. Against all common sense, I’m willing to give you a chance.”
Pulling her face into a severe mask, Eve said, “That’s because you’re drunk.”
“On lemonade?” he tossed. “And don’t tell me you don’t feel anything for me. Your heart’s beating as fast as a freight train.”
He smoothed a finger at the spot between her breasts, where the pulse of her heart ticked against his skin. She didn’t protest, click her tongue, or lecture him on sexual harassment. Instead, her eyes met his quietly.
“I’ve never been attracted to a misogynist before. Don’t think I want to be attracted to one now.” Saying so, she breathed hard.
“I’m not a misogynist just because I didn’t promote you,” Grant argued.
Gliding her palm up the back of his neck, Eve cupped his face, brought him in for a kiss.
Grant slid his hands under her waist. Instead of hitting bone and a butt job, he hit something soft and squishy. And it felt good. Good enough that he didn’t want to remove his hand.
Sipping her slowly, he explored the novelty of a woman who had no lip fillers. When her tongue brushed his lower lip, he gave in to her, suckling, teasing her with his tongue. Her lips parted and she let him into her mouth. Moments of sheer bliss passed, then her tongue came into his mouth, played with his tongue. The kiss grew wilder, hotter, deeper, until she jerked away.
“But I guess I’m attracted to you. You’re Grant Star, after all.” Her eyelashes opened to frame her apologetic eyes.
There was a note of sadness. He didn’t like that.
He pulled her dress up, caressed the smooth skin of her bare leg. As soon as he got Eve into bed and fucked her enough to get her out of his system, he would have his normal back. A normal where he wasn’t falling for women over fifty.
“Let’s do something with this chemistry.”
“Grant, no.” Her nails perched on his collar. “I can’t be another woman who slept with you to move up.”
“I won’t move you up, then. Be VP forever.” He leaned into her. Her bare skin was under his palm and he roamed over it in circles.
“I’m serious.” She swallowed, glancing past his shoulder. “I want to set a good example for my daughters.”
“Your daughters aren’t watching us.” His tongue trailed over her neck.
“But they’l
l know. They’ll know if I’m away for too long. It’s okay for us to kiss, but we can’t go beyond that.” She went breathless when he sunk his lips into hers.
“Don’t back out now. It’s only started getting interesting.” Plunging his hand under the back of her dress, he unclasped her bra wanting her hard, hot nipples in his mouth. Wanting to suck those tight, rosy buds.
Eve leaned away from him. “Just because a woman kisses you, doesn’t mean she did it with the intention of getting something more.”
“Nobody kisses Grant Star without wanting something more.”
From the way she hesitated, he could tell she would succumb. They all did, to the allure of Grant Star.
“That’s the part of you that I can’t stand. Why do you always assume that everybody has a weaker will than you?” Defying his expectations, she shook her hand away from him. Her eyes froze back into solid amber. “Put my bra back on.”
“Come on, baby,” he begged.
She couldn’t quit now. He was aroused as hell.
Her eyeshadow-dusted lids dropped. “I’m not looking for a one-night stand. I want a man whom my daughters can respect and I can count on. You can never be that man, Grant. And trust me, you don’t want to sleep with a woman who comes with two daughters and a lot of rules.”
He inhaled sharply when he saw her eyes twinkle. Light was playing games on him. But she looked so ethereal. A woman shouldn’t be allowed to look so magnetic when she had such a sour personality.
“Are you like this to every man who tries to get close to you?” Grant asked, hesitating before hooking her bra back.
Against his desire to remain in control, he found himself touching the tendrils of curls that flew about the nape of her neck.
Eve’s voice lost some of its edge. “I chose the wrong man once.”
Again, that regretful note in her voice.
“I can do long-term,” Grant said.
She was intriguing enough for a few nights, at the very least.
Eve bent her hands to her back. “Our way of defining long-term is a little different, I think. My definition is old-fashioned dating, developing a friendship, thinking of a future together, things like that. I wouldn’t call a one-month affair long-term.”
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