Lovestruck in Los Angeles

by Schurig, Rachel

  She set a file folder on my desk. “I need those calls to be made by lunchtime. And there’s the magazine shoot to finalize.”

  “I’m on it,” I said, turning my computer on.

  “Great, dear. Thank you.” She stood and headed out toward the glass doors. “Imogen,” she practically barked over her shoulder. “That fax.”

  “On it,” Imogen cried, scurrying back to her desk. I scowled. Like that. There was no way Heidi would ever use that tone with me. Not that I wanted her to, of course, but that kind of thing didn’t help my insecurities about riding Thomas’s coat tails.

  “If you have time, you could start packing,” Heidi said before she slipped through the door. “I’ll be in meetings for most of the morning. Call if anything comes up.”

  The moment she was gone, Imogen took a deep breath. “She’s grouchy when she’s stressed.”

  “Do you think she’s stressed?” I asked, surprised. Heidi always seemed supremely put together to me.

  Imogen nodded. “I overheard her on the phone to that boyfriend of hers.” She made a face as if picturing Heidi’s long-term boyfriend, Walter. “She said all this change was about to do her head in.”

  “Wow.” I knew a lot was going on for Heidi professionally. She’d made a name for herself at a major London talent agency before jumping ship to start her own, rather small, agency. She seemed to enjoy working with just a few select clients, including Thomas. But once his career broke out, she’d gotten overwhelmed pretty quickly. She pretty much worked constantly on his behalf—I couldn’t count the number of times she had called this period of his career critical. “This is make-it-or-break-it time,” she would say. “The decisions we make and the work we do now could very well determine the trajectory of his entire career.” But that single-minded determination was wearing on her. She had finally agreed to a partial merger with the same large agency she’d left years earlier—she’d retain her autonomy, but she’d get more help.

  Our leaving for Los Angeles would also signify our leaving this space; when we returned, we’d be relocating to the agency’s huge modern office building right on the South Bank. Imogen had toured it with Heidi and was beside herself with excitement (“They have a cappuccino machine, Lizzie! And views of the river!”), but I knew I would miss this little place in a forgotten corner of the West End.

  “They’re all big changes,” Imogen said, nodding. “I’m feeling a bit stressed myself.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “You? I thought you were excited!”

  “Oh, I am.” Her eyes widened. “But there’s so much to consider.” She lifted a foot in my direction, showing off her shoe. “Do they still wear wedges in California? Or have they moved onto something different? I’m so sure I’m going to pack all the wrong things and stick out like a sore thumb in L.A.!”

  I turned back to my computer, trying hard not to roll my eyes. Just like Imogen, to be worried about something like that when she was about to travel more than five thousand miles away.

  “We should probably get some work done before she gets back,” I pointed out.

  “Right,” Imogen muttered. “This bloody fax…”

  After she left, I tried to concentrate on the list of calls I was supposed to be making, but I was having trouble keeping my mind from wandering. Imogen was right, silly shoe talk aside—they were all big changes. And it had already been a year of big changes for me. I’d spent most of my life with everything being the same—painfully, entirely unchanging. But in a little over a year I’d moved to London, fallen in love, tried to move back home, decided to come back to London, and was now about to embark on an adventure thousands of miles away. Where I would know very few people. Surely L.A. was nothing like Detroit. Or London, for that matter. How was I going to cope?

  My phone beeped in my bag, and I pulled it out to find a text from Thomas. Want me to pick you up for lunch?

  I grinned, texted back my agreement, and suddenly felt silly for my doubts. Who cared where I was going or how different it was? Thomas would be there with me. Everything was going to be just fine.

  Chapter Three

  I stood in the kitchen of my flat, frowning at the vase in front of me. “I cannot get these flowers right.” I grabbed a peony and tossed it to the counter with a sigh.

  “They look fine to me,” Thomas said, not even looking up from his newspaper. I threw the peony at him, and laughed when it bounced off his face. He finally looked up at me, scowling slightly. “That was mean. There’s no call for violence.”

  “How can you be so calm? Aren’t you at all excited?”

  “I’m exceedingly excited,” he said, his voice dry and flat. “In fact, I can hardly contain my excitement.”

  “You haven’t seen Charlie in months! And they’ll be back in, like, minutes. This is a big deal, Thomas!”

  He set the paper on the counter next to the mess of flower petals and stems. “I am excited to see him. I always miss Charlie when we don’t get to see each other for a while. But there’s no need to get so worked up. You’ve been cleaning and decorating for hours.”

  “I want the flat to be tidy for him when he gets back.” I glanced around the loft. Maybe I had been obsessing a bit about getting things in order for him. But I wanted to thank him for letting me stay in his place, particularly since I was pretty sure the rent I was paying was far under market value. He was probably relieved Thomas and I were heading out to L.A. so he’d be able to get a proper renter.

  “You’re a very sweet girl,” Thomas said, drawing my attention away from my appraisal of the flat. I looked over at him to see that he was smiling, his face softened. “Really, Lizzie. It’s very nice of you to go to so much effort for your friends.”

  I shrugged, looking back at the flowers. “It means a lot to me. His letting me stay here was such a big deal, you know? I wouldn’t have been able to come back otherwise.”

  He took my hand and pulled me over to his side. “You could have just moved in with me.”

  “I think that would have been pushing it.” I wrapped an arm around his shoulder, leaning into him a little. “It was hard enough to get my mom on board without having to tell her I’d be shacking up with my boyfriend.”

  “You do realize we’ll be shacking up in Malibu, don’t you?”

  “I wouldn’t use any derivative of the word ‘shack’ when it comes to that place.”

  He chuckled. “Good point. But seriously—does your mom know about your future living arrangements?”

  I shook my head. “I was a little vague when I told her about L.A. And she didn’t ask, so maybe she wanted to keep it that way.”

  He watched me closely for a minute, but didn’t say anything else on the topic. I knew it bothered Thomas that I didn’t feel like I could be open with my family about our relationship. His parents were thrilled to hear that we were moving in together when we got to L.A.—they considered it a positive step in our relationship. I tried to imagine my own family reacting in such a progressive way, but it was laughable. It just wasn’t who they were.

  “Not having second thoughts, are you?” Thomas asked, his voice soft.

  “Of course not.” I leaned down to kiss him. “I’m really excited to move in with you. I wouldn’t have agreed to if I wasn’t.”

  He grinned briefly before his face turned serious. “I should warn you, I leave dirty towels lying around in the bathroom.”

  I made a face at him. “I’m actually well acquainted with your terrible hygiene habits. I plan to put a stop to it immediately.”

  He groaned, and then the downstairs buzzer went off. “Oh my gosh,” I gasped, pulling away from him. “What if that’s them?”

  I ran to the buzzer and pressed the button. “Hello?”

  “Lizzie?” Callie’s voice was annoyed. “It’s freezing down here. Let us in.”

  “Hi, Lizzie!” I heard Charlie call.

  “Get in here,” I cried, buzzing them in. I spun around to survey the apartment, catching sight
of the disaster on the counter. “Crap, the flowers.”

  “I’ve got it,” Thomas assured me, brushing the mess of stems and leaves into the bin. He held up the vase. “Where do you want these?”

  “The entry table. Thanks.”

  I took one last quick look around the room. I’d packed up all of my books and magazines to be taken to Thomas’s flat. The bedroom and master were similarly cleared out, all traces of my weeks living there gone. Candles burned on the mantel, the furniture had been straightened, and the hard wood floors gleamed. I’d even arranged a comfy throw on Charlie’s brown leather couch. Everything was just about perfect.

  The front door banged open. “Hello!” Charlie called out cheerily.

  “Charlie!” I threw my arms around him, making him laugh.

  “Hello, Lizzie my love.” He kissed my cheek. “How are you? Ready to soak up the sun, you lucky old slag?”

  I laughed, releasing him. “Absolutely.”

  Callie pushed past him into the room. “Not only did he leave me with all of the luggage, he got to hug my best friend first,” she muttered, grabbing me in a hug.

  “I missed you.” I squeezed her tight. “Come to L.A. with us.”

  “Sure,” she said. “I’ll be Thomas’s hair dresser.”

  “Not bloody likely.” Thomas waited until I had released Callie before swooping down to kiss her check. “You look fab, Cal. New York agrees with you.”

  After he’d greeted Callie he turned to his best friend. “Good to see you, mate.” I loved that Charlie embraced him—no silly macho behavior between them.

  “What have you done to this place?” Callie asked, staring around the room. I felt a flash of panic—had I misplaced something? “It’s so…clean.”

  Thomas laughed. “She wanted to make it nice for Charlie’s return. I kept telling her it would be more familiar with a few more coats of dust and grime.”

  “Blimey,” Charlie said, leaning down to smell the flowers in the vase. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a plant in the house before.”

  “Is it too much?” I asked, trying to slide a scented candle out of sight without anyone noticing.

  “It’s lovely.” Charlie slung an arm around my shoulder and steered me toward the kitchen, Callie and Thomas following. “I will thoroughly enjoy living in such splendor for the next week.”

  “Did your preparations include chilling some wine?” Callie asked. “We had a bitch of a flight.”

  “There’s wine in the fridge,” Thomas assured her. “But we thought we’d take you two out to lunch.”

  “Excellent.” Charlie slapped Thomas on the back. “I’m skint. I forgot to change my money to pounds.”

  Thomas rolled his eyes, but I only laughed. I loved Charlie and all of his scatterbrained, day-dreaming ways.

  “How bout you bring our bags into the bedroom before you go sponging of our friends,” Callie said.

  “Come on, mate, I’ll help you,” Thomas said and the two disappeared back to the entryway. A moment later, Charlie called out, “Holy crap, Callie, she made my bed.”

  Callie and I laughed, perching ourselves on bar stools in the kitchen. “Was the flight really bad?” I asked.

  “God, yes. I hate overnight flights. I can never sleep.”

  I made a sympathetic face. “Our flight from L.A. was absolutely insane. I think I’m still jet-lagged.”

  “And in a week you get to do it all over again,” she said happily. “It will be nice, you know. Having you back on the same continent.”

  I grinned. “Funny, that’s what I’ve been saying about you ever since I found out you were coming to London.”

  “Are you being sappy?” Thomas asked from the doorway. “Lizzie, you promised me no sappiness.”

  “I promised no such thing,” I said, grabbing Callie’s hand and squeezing. “You might not care much about being reunited with your best friend, but I happen to love mine very much.”

  “You’re not excited to see me?” Charlie asked, joining us in the kitchen. He frowned at Thomas. “Way to make a bloke feel loved, Thomas.”

  Thomas sighed, but I could tell he was trying not to smile. “You’re all quite ridiculous.” I stuck out my tongue at him, and he laughed. “That rather proves my point, miss.”

  “Did someone say something about lunch?” Charlie asked hopefully, rubbing his stomach.

  “Yeah, let’s get lunch.” I hopped off the bar stool, still holding Callie’s hand. “I’m starving.”

  “I want fish and chips,” Charlie said, heading to the door.

  “We’re not eating fish and chips,” Thomas said. “We’re going to have a proper grown-ups lunch with menus and a waiter.”

  “But I’ve been away from my homeland for months.” Charlie crossed his arms. “Do you know how hard it is to find proper fish and chips in the States?”

  “Charlie, we have girls with us, mate,” Thomas said. “We’ve discussed this. When you take a girl out, you go to a place with table cloths.”

  “God, they bicker like an old married couple,” Callie muttered, but I was grinning widely. This was what I had been missing. My lovely friends together again, teasing and arguing just like the old days. We’d spent plenty of time with Sarra, Mark, Meghan, and Carter since I’d moved back, but it wasn’t the same without Callie and Charlie. Having the old group back together made me almost giddy.

  Thomas must have caught sight of my face as he helped me with my coat, because he brushed a kiss across my forehead. “You’re cute, you know.”

  “I’m happy.”

  He smiled. “That’s what I meant.”

  ***

  I couldn’t have asked for better weather for the night of our party. It was clear and cool, but not so cold as to prevent us from utilizing the outdoor patio at Mr. Idoni’s Italian restaurant in Kentish Town. Callie and I had rented the flat above the restaurant when we lived in London, and it remained one of my favorite places to eat and hang out anywhere in the city.

  We’d rented the entire dining room of the restaurant, and it was packed full of friends, family, and co-workers. Enough of Thomas’s Darkness cast had joined us to keep Imogen occupied with star gazing for the entirety of the party.

  “So, Lizzie,” Jackson Coles said, handing me a glass of champagne. The star of the Darkness franchise grinned at me before taking a sip from his own glass. “How are you set for next week? All ready to go?”

  “Thanks,” I said, tilting the glass toward him. “Yeah, I think we’re mostly ready. Most of my things were packed up anyhow since I’ve kind of been in transit the last few months.”

  “He couldn’t convince you to move in with him, eh?” He waggled his eyebrows at me in that cocky, dangerous-movie-star way of his. Jackson was the star of the Darkness series and one of the most sought-after celebrities in the world. I’d been incredibly nervous the first time I met him face to face, but he had grown on me over the months. I knew his current expression was custom designed to make women my age swoon. I merely smiled.

  “I’m a pretty cautious girl, Jackson.”

  He laughed. “Oh, I have no doubt of that.” His eyes flicked down my figure, and I did my best not to make a face. He was such a hopeless flirt. “Not that I blame you. Isn’t he still in that pokey little place in Bayswater?”

  “I adore Thomas’s flat,” I said, my voice hardening slightly.

  The laughter faded from his face a little, though he didn’t seem embarrassed or ashamed. Thoughtful, maybe. “I bet you do,” he said, his voice soft. “He’s a lucky man, you know that?”

  I felt slightly flustered. I was immune to Jackson’s charms, but it was hard to be completely stoic in the face of his intensity. “I think we’re both lucky.”

  He nodded, still searching my face. Just when I was about to make an excuse to get away, Thomas slipped his arm around my waist.

  “I’ve barely seen you,” he said softly, nuzzling my neck. A shiver ran down my back at the contact. Thomas held out his hand.
“Jackson, mate, glad you could make it.”

  “I wouldn’t miss it,” Jackson said, shaking his hand. “Have to see the two of you off properly, don’t we?”

  “Has Lizzie been asking for advice about L.A.? She’s been a bit worried about finding her way.”

  “You’ll love L.A.,” Jackson said enthusiastically, and I realized he had probably spent a lot of time there. Jackson had been a huge star since long before anyone had ever heard of Thomas. “It’s great, really. Lots to do no matter what you’re into. The shopping and nightlife are fantastic, of course, but there’s so much more to it than that. Great food, really fantastic, and amazing places to hike or climb or ride your bike, whatever you like. The beaches, obviously, are beautiful.”

  I smiled at my boyfriend. “I think Thomas is mostly excited to go to Disneyland. He won’t shut up about it.”

  Jackson laughed. “Well, that’s fun too. Did I hear you were living in Malibu?”

  I nodded. “We found a place right on the beach.”

  “Brilliant. You know, you should give surfing a try. I got really into it last time I was there, and Malibu is a great place for it.”

  I wished that Jackson could be like this all the time. In the year since I had met him, I’d had the chance to get to know him a bit, and he was by far at his best when he was natural and easy, rather than the teasing, flirtatious party boy he pretended to be with most people.

  “Really?” Thomas asked, clearly intrigued. “You know, I always thought it looked so hard.”

  “Nah, man,” Jackson said. “You could totally handle it. Don’t you ski?”

  “A bit.”

  “It’s similar. All in the core strength and balance.”

  “That disqualifies me,” I muttered. “Balance is not my strong suit.”

  Thomas chuckled and tweaked my side. “I bet you could do it if you wanted to.”

  Of course, Lola Fischer had to choose that moment to join us. It was like she had a sixth sense for knowing when I was having fun or something.