Damage Control

by Jae

  “Well,” Grace said. “Education is important.”

  The bodyguards, who were hovering nearby, burst out laughing, but Grace looked completely serious.

  Lauren didn’t know how she could keep a straight face. Apparently, she was used to fans who confused the real Grace with the roles she played on TV.

  “Oh, of course, dear.” The lavender-haired woman patted Grace’s hands, turned toward Lauren, and squinted at her. “Weren’t you the one who always tormented poor little Amber?” She looked ready to whack Lauren with her giant purse.

  Lauren held up both hands. “Uh, no, no. It wasn’t me, I swear.”

  Grace giggled.

  “She’s the one, isn’t she?” The woman turned to Grace for confirmation.

  Grace’s ocean-blue eyes glittered with mischief.

  For a moment, Lauren thought she would nod. She gave the security officers a beseeching look, but they just smirked and apparently had no intention of protecting her from the wrath of this little old lady.

  Finally, Grace shook her head. “No. She’s one of the good girls. Really.”

  “Oh, that’s all right, then.” The woman thrust her camera at Lauren. “Can you take a picture of us with Amber?”

  Lauren took the camera and zoomed in a little. On the digital camera’s small screen, it was easy to see that Grace was shivering in the cool night air, but she gamely wrapped one arm around the elderly lady’s shoulders and the other around the woman’s husband, smiling as if she’d just won an Oscar. Amazing. Lauren snapped a few pictures and then handed back the camera.

  The woman did a little happy dance. “Thank you, thank you. Oh, just wait until I get home and tell my friends!”

  Grace said good-bye, and they continued toward the parking garage, the bodyguards following them at a respectful distance.

  Lauren looked back over her shoulder. “What the hell was that? She was about to strangle me with her purse straps for something that somebody did to your character twenty years ago!”

  “Now do you understand why these gay rumors are so bad for my career?” Grace asked with a serious expression, talking so quietly that neither the security guys nor the tourists passing by could hear her. “A lot of people still remember me as Amber Haynes. America’s little darling can’t be one of those people.”

  Are you? Lauren still couldn’t tell. With an actress like Grace, it was hard to say what was real and what was an act. “Trust me, I get it.” If Grace had starred in action movies or had been a character actress in dramas, maybe her sexual orientation wouldn’t have mattered so much. But she had always played Ms. Perfect, the pretty girl-next-door, the one you wanted the movie’s hero to fall for. “I just didn’t think it would be that bad.” Lauren pointed over her shoulder to where the elderly lady had stopped them.

  “I thought she was pretty sweet, actually.”

  “Yeah,” Lauren grumbled, “because you weren’t the one she threatened with her monster purse.”

  Grace laughed, a gesture that didn’t seem at all rehearsed.

  “Thanks for not throwing me under the bus, by the way,” Lauren said.

  “You’re welcome.”

  Grace had expected Lauren to drive a BMW or a Lexus, but when Lauren pressed her key fob, the lights of a gray Honda Civic flashed. Most of the PR types she’d met were concerned with status symbols, but apparently, Lauren wasn’t.

  Lauren looked at her over the roof of the car. “Something wrong?”

  “No, nothing,” Grace said and quickly got in.

  Lauren settled in the driver’s seat and looked over with a slight smile. “The carriage not to your liking?”

  “It’s fine. I just…”

  “You thought I’d drive something a little more…flashy?”

  Grace nodded, embarrassed to admit it. She rubbed her goose-bump-covered arms. “Would you mind turning up the heat a little?”

  “I can do better than that.”

  Their shoulders brushed when Lauren turned and reached through the gap between their seats. “Here.” She handed Grace a red Boston University sweatshirt.

  “Thanks.” A hint of Lauren’s perfume—a fresh, citrusy scent with spicy undertones—clung to the fabric, making Grace inhale deeply as she slipped the garment over her head. Hmm. Nice.

  “So?”

  Grace looked over at Lauren. “Excuse me?”

  “I’m going to need Jill’s address.”

  “Oh. Of course.” Grace told her and tried to reach her friend again while Lauren punched the address into her GPS and started the car.

  Still no answer from Jill. Grace was really starting to worry.

  For once, there wasn’t much traffic, so they covered the eight miles to Jill’s home in Glendale in less than half an hour. The house sat on a corner lot, surrounded by an ivy-covered brick wall. Jill valued her privacy just as much as Grace did.

  They got out of the car and pressed the call button next to the gate.

  Nothing.

  “Seems she went out,” Lauren said.

  Grace peered through the iron bars toward the house. “I don’t think so. Her car is in the driveway, and the light is on in one room.”

  “Then why isn’t she answering the intercom?”

  A reason instantly popped into Grace’s head. She closed her eyes against the image, but it kept intruding. “What if she slipped and fell?”

  “Why would she slip?” Lauren asked. “Is she drinking?”

  “No.” Grace didn’t offer more of an explanation. Maybe bringing Lauren here hadn’t been such a good idea.

  Lauren stepped closer and pressed the call button again—with the same lack of response. “If you’re really worried, maybe we should call the police.”

  “No!” Jill wouldn’t like that kind of attention.

  “But don’t you want to check on her?”

  “We will.”

  Lauren eyed the brick wall surrounding the house. “You’re not suggesting we climb the wall, are you?”

  “Dressed like this?” Grace gestured to her stilettos and the sweatshirt-covered dress. “No, thanks. I have the security code, but I never used it without her knowing that I’m coming.”

  If Lauren wondered why Jill had given her access to her home, she didn’t show it. She waited patiently while Grace typed the code into the panel.

  The gate sprang open.

  “Come on.” Grace waved at Lauren to follow her, and they entered the property.

  Loud barking from the front of the house stopped them in their tracks just a few feet from the gate.

  Lauren froze. “Oh, shit. You didn’t tell me she has a dog.”

  “She didn’t the last time I was here.” Grace tried to make out the dog in the darkness, but she could see only a shadow on the porch. “Nice doggie.”

  The barking started again. It sounded like a big dog. One with sharp teeth. And the barking was coming closer.

  “Let’s get out of here!” Grace shouted.

  Lauren didn’t have to be told twice. She sprinted toward the gate.

  Nearly twisting her ankle in her stilettos, Grace followed. When she slid to a stop next to the code box, Lauren gripped her arm to steady her.

  Her heart hammering wildly, Grace entered the code, but the gate wouldn’t open. “Shit!” Hastily, she peered toward the house and thought she saw a big shape charging toward them. “Climb!”

  Next to each other, they grabbed handfuls of ivy and clambered up the wall.

  Part of the ivy pulled from the wall, almost sending Grace plummeting to the ground.

  Lauren gripped the sweatshirt and held on until Grace had grabbed hold of another handful of ivy.

  One of Grace’s feet found a brick that stuck out
of the wall, giving her a more secure hold. Her heart still slammed against her ribs as she peered down, trying to see where the barking dog was.

  “Jesus Christ,” Lauren said next to her. “I don’t think this is covered in my contract.”

  For some reason, this struck Grace as funny. She laughed hysterically, almost falling off the wall in the process. Her stilettos scraped over the wall until she found her foothold again.

  When the dog continued to bark, lights went on in the house. The door opened. A figure, backlit by the light in the house, appeared in the doorway and then stepped onto the porch. “Who’s there?”

  Was that Jill? She sounded strange somehow, but maybe it was just the blood rushing through Grace’s ears. “Jill? It’s me,” she called, “Grace.”

  “What are you doing up there?”

  “Uh, hanging on for dear life?” Grace glanced into the shadows where the dog lurked. “Can you call the dog back, please?”

  “Tramp! Come here!”

  Grace and Lauren looked at each other. “Tramp?” they mouthed at the same time.

  Lauren breathed a sigh of relief when the dog gave one last bark and then raced toward the house.

  After waiting a few seconds to make sure the dog wasn’t coming back, Lauren jumped down, congratulating herself for wearing sensible shoes. Once Grace had climbed down a little, Lauren reached up to put her hands on Grace’s hips. “I’ve got you.”

  Still gripping the ivy, Grace slowly slid down and into Lauren’s arms.

  A whiff of perfume teased Lauren’s nose, and for a moment, she wanted to pull Grace close, bury her nose in her fragrant hair, and hug her for all she was worth. Are you crazy? Grace was still a client, even though they’d just shared an adventure that seemed right out of an action movie. Quickly, she let go and stepped back.

  Grace took one step toward the house and immediately stumbled as one of the stiletto heels finally gave out and snapped.

  Lauren quickly caught her before she could fall. With their arms around each other, they tottered across the lawn toward Jill. Lauren could only imagine what a pathetic sight they must be, both of them scraped and covered with ivy and Grace with just one good shoe and wearing an old sweatshirt over her dress.

  Jill still leaned in the doorway, holding on to the dog with one hand while gripping the doorjamb with the other.

  Now that there was some light on the porch, Lauren realized that Tramp wasn’t the large, mean guard dog she’d imagined when she’d heard him bark in the dark. He was medium-sized, with a golden, curly coat that made him look like a cuddly teddy bear. Wagging his fluffy tail, he strained toward them, apparently eager to greet them and be petted.

  Lauren groaned and traded glances with Grace. “That’s the monster dog we ran from?”

  Grace shrugged with an impish grin. “It sounded like a much bigger dog.” She called over to Jill, “When did you get a dog?”

  “I went to an adoption fair when we got back from Georgia. It was love at first sight, so we adopted each other.” Jill’s voice sounded slurred. The light from the house shone on her gleaming red hair, styled in a cute pixie cut that looked a little messy. Had she already been in bed, and that was why she hadn’t answered the doorbell?

  Lauren stretched out her arm so the dog could sniff her hand. “What kind of dog is it?”

  “He’s a labradoodle,” Jill said with a proud grin. At their questioning expressions, she added, “A cross between a Labrador retriever and a poodle. But let’s go and talk inside.” When she stepped back to let them in, her legs refused to carry her and she started to fall.

  One arm still around Grace, Lauren managed to catch Jill with the other. All three of them tumbled against the doorjamb, both actresses clinging to Lauren. God, if Marlene could see me now… I think I dreamed of something like this when I was younger, but this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.

  “Jill?” Grace peered around Lauren. “Are you okay?”

  “Fine,” Jill said but sounded as if she had trouble talking.

  Was she drunk? Somehow, Lauren didn’t think so. This close to the actress, she would have smelled alcohol on her breath if that were the case.

  The dog jumped around them, barking excitedly and nearly making them topple over, until Jill told him to go lie down.

  Lauren caught a glimpse of a couch through an open door. “As pleasant as this is, ladies, I think we should go sit down.”

  “One second.” Grace let go of Lauren and knelt to take off her ruined shoes. Carrying the stilettos in one hand, she squeezed past Lauren and wrapped her arm around Jill from the other side.

  They led Jill to the couch, where she plopped down heavily. Grace and Lauren sat on either side of her.

  After several moments, Lauren remembered her manners and reached out to offer Jill her hand. “Now that we already got up close and personal, maybe I should introduce myself. Lauren Pearce, Grace’s publicist.”

  Jill gave her a friendly smile and took the offered hand. “Jill Corrigan.” She gazed at Grace. “What happened to Roberta?”

  “My mother,” Grace said.

  “Could someone please tell me what’s going on?” Lauren asked.

  “I was just about to ask the same,” Jill said. “What were you doing climbing my wall in the middle of the night?”

  Grace rubbed one knee that was covered in scratches. “It’s barely ten thirty.”

  “That’s not the point.”

  “I wanted to check on you,” Grace said. “I tried to reach you all day, and you didn’t show up at Russ’s ceremony.”

  Her gaze on Lauren, Jill said, “I’m fine.”

  Clearly, she wasn’t. She leaned heavily against the back of the couch and looked as if she was about to fall asleep sitting up. Her speech was slightly slurred and slow, as if she had to focus to form words. She didn’t seem the type to take drugs, but in Hollywood, you never knew. Whatever was going on, Jill was clearly reluctant to admit it in front of Lauren.

  “I think we can trust Lauren,” Grace said.

  “You think?” Lauren repeated. “I nearly got beaten up by an old lady and then eaten alive by Tramp the vicious labradoodle, all because I was trying to help you out. You’d think that would rate a more enthusiastic expression of trust.”

  Grace smiled. “Right. Jill,” she said, her voice firm, “I know we can trust Lauren. You should tell her.”

  Tell me what? Lauren wanted to ask but sensed that it was better to keep quiet.

  The two actresses looked at each other for several moments as if having a silent conversation. There was definitely a connection between them, but Lauren didn’t get the impression that it was anything more than the loyalty of friends who’d been through a lot together.

  Finally, Jill inhaled and exhaled loudly and looked at Lauren. “I…” Faltering, she bit her lip and sent Grace an imploring gaze.

  Grace took Jill’s hand. “Jill has MS.”

  Lauren couldn’t help staring. But she’s too young, she wanted to say but then remembered a former client of hers who’d been an athlete in her mid-twenties—Jill’s age—when she’d been diagnosed with MS.

  When Lauren said nothing, Grace added, “Multiple sclerosis.”

  “I know. I mean…I know what MS means.” All the pieces of the puzzle suddenly fit together. That was why Jill had problems talking and walking and why the paparazzi had caught them stumbling up the stairs of Jill’s trailer and going to a hotel together. Grace had probably helped her keep it quiet and covered for her whenever Jill wasn’t doing so great.

  Lauren looked from Grace to Jill. The actress’s green eyes were so vivid and full of life that it was hard to imagine that she had an incurable neurological condition. She finally decided to say exactly what was on her mind. “I don’t know wh
at to say.”

  “Say that you’ll keep it to yourself,” Jill said. “Please.”

  “I will, but why? Why not just be open about it?”

  Jill shook her head. “I don’t want to be known as the actress with MS. I want to be known for my acting skills, not for this condition.”

  “Do you really think you can manage to keep it quiet for much longer? I mean…” Lauren gestured at the actress who sat slumped against the backrest.

  “Today’s a bad day, but it’s not always like this. I’m not sure yet if it’s a relapse or just my normal symptoms acting up. When I got up this morning, my legs felt like limp noodles.” She looked at Grace. “That’s why I wasn’t at Russ’s ceremony. I was so tired that I camped out on the couch all day. I heard the phone ring a few times, but it’s upstairs, so…”

  “It’s okay,” Grace said. “I’m just glad you’re all right.”

  “What was so urgent that you had to come over here and break in?” Jill asked.

  Grace hesitated as if debating whether to burden her friend with this.

  “She needs to know,” Lauren said gently. “It could impact her career too.”

  Jill looked back and forth between them. “Could someone please tell me what’s going on? Preferably before I pass out from exhaustion.”

  “Do you want us to take you up to your bedroom first?” Grace asked.

  “So the two of you can have your way with helpless little me?” Jill shook her head and then grinned. “Not that I’d put up much of a struggle.”

  Grace slapped her leg.

  Lauren watched them interact. Was Jill just trying to lighten the mood, or was she gay after all? But surely then Grace, who was deathly afraid of being thought of as lesbian, wouldn’t keep hanging out with her. Or maybe she would. After tonight, Lauren was beginning to think there wasn’t much Grace wouldn’t do for her friends.