Damage Control

by Jae

  “Thank you,” Grace said. “I haven’t had anyone bring me ice cream when I came home with a boo-boo since my father died.”

  Sticky fingers and tingles be damned, Lauren covered Grace’s hand with her own and squeezed. “You’re welcome.”

  CHAPTER 18

  “I’m so, so, so sorry,” was the first thing Amanda said when she called Grace later that day.

  “Stop apologizing already.” Grace tried to fluff the sofa pillow beneath her head. “It’s not your fault. If Cody hadn’t pulled me to the side at the wrong moment…”

  Amanda sighed. “Still. I feel bad for giving you that black eye.”

  “Nothing a bit of concealer won’t cure. Besides, it wasn’t all bad.”

  “How’s that?”

  Grace closed her eyes and could almost taste the delicious ice cream melting on her tongue. “I got a double scoop of ice cream out of the deal.”

  “You? Getting ice cream?” Amanda let out a disbelieving snort.

  “No, really,” Grace said. “I did. Lauren bought it for me when she drove me home.”

  Only silence filtered through the line.

  “Amanda?” Grace looked at the display to make sure they hadn’t been disconnected. “You still there?”

  “Um, yes. I’m just a little surprised she’d do that. Maybe I need to switch publicists, because mine sure never did something like that for me.”

  “Not even when that meanie of a camel bit you?”

  “Nope,” Amanda said. “Not even then.”

  Grace didn’t know how to explain why her publicist would buy her ice cream and miss a few hours of work just to pick her up from the airport. These were just two of the many things that Lauren had done for her even though they weren’t in her contract. They were becoming friends, but she felt as if she needed to protect that growing friendship from being trampled on by everyone else. “Maybe your publicist would if you paid her better,” she finally quipped.

  “Are you sure that’s all it is? Lauren appreciating the paycheck she gets from you?”

  “Yeah, okay, I think we’re becoming friends too.”

  “That too, but I think it might be more than that.”

  At Amanda’s suspicious tone, Grace’s hackles rose. “What are you hinting at?”

  “Well, if my gaydar isn’t totally off, she’s a lesbian, so…”

  Grace sat up on the couch. “Oh, come on! Just because she’s a lesbian doesn’t mean she’d be interested in me. You of all people should know that.”

  “Yeah, why would she be interested in you, just because you’re drop-dead gorgeous, rich, and one of the nicest people in Hollywood.”

  “That’s nonsense,” she said more loudly than intended. She normally didn’t shout at people, but now it was hard to keep her voice down. “You’re really selling Lauren short. She’s more professional than most other people in Hollywood.”

  “I saw the two of you playing pinball at your birthday party, and excuse me for saying so, but that didn’t look very professional to me. She seemed to have forgotten that you’re not just her client but also a married woman.”

  The memory of Lauren’s arms around her, their bodies pressing together as Lauren bumped the pinball machine made Grace flush. She told herself it was just anger heating her cheeks. The sofa pillow sailed across the room, nearly shattering the Chinese vase. “Bullshit! You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

  “I’m sorry,” Amanda said. “I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s not my place to say things like that to you. I know we haven’t been friends for very long and haven’t gotten to know each other that well. I should have kept my mouth shut. I just feel like you’re one of the few fellow actresses I can really talk to.”

  Grace rubbed her face with her free hand and winced when she accidentally touched the tender, still-swollen area beneath her left eye. While it was true they hadn’t been friends for that long, spending up to sixteen hours a day together for a week last year and then doing the same this year had brought them closer. They both shared the same work ethic and a similar sense of humor. She did consider Amanda a friend, even though they saw each other mostly at red-carpet events and on set. “I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean to make you feel as if you couldn’t be honest with me. It’s just… Do you know how many people swarmed around me like bees to honey, pretending to care for me, just because I’m nice, rich, and…”

  “Drop-dead gorgeous,” Amanda said for her.

  “But that’s all just skin-deep. Everyone before Nick wanted just my money or my body or both, and I don’t want to think that Lauren might be one of those people.”

  “That’s not what I’m—”

  The sudden bang of the front door made Grace jump.

  Seconds later, her mother strode into the living room and dropped a stack of paper onto the coffee table.

  Not again. “Amanda? I’m sorry, but I have to go.”

  “Are we okay? I really didn’t mean to—”

  “We’re fine,” Grace said. “It’s just that my mother dropped by. There seems to be something important going on.”

  They said good-bye and ended the call.

  “Mom, you’ll give me a heart attack if you keep coming in like that.”

  “Do you see that?” Her mother waved her finger at the stack of printouts on the table, ignoring what Grace had said. “That’s why I didn’t want you to—” Her eyes widened and her mouth snapped shut as she caught sight of Grace’s shiner. She rushed toward her. “Oh my God! What happened to your eye?”

  Grace tried to fend off her mother’s hands that were fluttering all over her face. “Nothing. Just—ouch, Mom, that hurts. It was just bad timing while we were shooting one of the action scenes.”

  “How often have I told you not to do your own stunts? They have stuntwomen for that.”

  “I know. But it looks more authentic if I do it myself, and it wasn’t dangerous.”

  “Dangerous enough to give you a black eye,” her mother muttered. “I told you that nothing good would come of you doing that lesbian show, and now look…you got hurt.”

  Grace shrugged. “It could have happened on any other set too. At least it wasn’t my nose like that one time when I got hit by a champagne cork during the wedding reception scene and the director insisted on icing my nose with the entire cooler of ice.”

  They both laughed at the memory, and her mother finally let go of her face and sank onto the couch next to her.

  “So what’s this?” Grace pointed at the papers on her coffee table. They looked like printouts from websites. “Don’t tell me the gossip sites are writing nonsense about me again.”

  “No. Not the gossip sites. Some other people.”

  Grace frowned. “What other people?”

  “I don’t know. Writers, I guess. They’re writing stories about you…homosexual stories.” Her mother nearly seemed to choke on the words.

  Grace reached for the stack of paper and skimmed the first page. It was a short story written by someone using the pseudonym CPFan. The story was littered with typos and grammar mistakes but otherwise entertaining. The character Grace had portrayed in two episodes—the daughter of a casino owner—was a suspect in a murder case, and Detective Halliday was back in Vegas to investigate the case.

  In an interview room in a police station, Detective Halliday towered over the suspect, who was sitting behind a metal table. Almost nose to nose, they were shouting at each other.

  Grace turned the page.

  And then they were kissing. The chair toppled over as Grace’s character pressed the detective against the table and slid her hands under the other woman’s shirt.

  Heat crept up Grace’s chest and into her cheeks. She stopped reading and fanned herself once with the
stack of papers.

  “See what I mean? That’s porn! Lesbian porn!” Her mother paced the length of the living room. “We need to contact your lawyer right away. We’ll sue. We’ll…”

  Grace pinched the bridge of her nose, wincing when pain flared through the area around her left eye. How she wished she were back in Lauren’s car, eating ice cream, instead of dealing with this. “It’s not porn, Mom. I think it’s called fan fiction. These stories aren’t written by professional writers. They’re just fans.”

  Her mother snorted. “What fan would write something like that about you?”

  “They’re not writing about me. This is about Alexandra—my character.”

  “We need to tell the network, then. They can sue them for copyright infringement.”

  “I’m pretty sure they already know,” Grace said.

  Her mother stopped pacing and stared at her wide-eyed. “And they’re just letting them write this…this…?” She gestured as if unable to find a strong enough word.

  “I don’t think anyone officially allowed it,” Grace said. “It’s more of a don’t-ask-don’t-tell policy. But if you think about it, isn’t it a great compliment that the show and its characters inspired people to write stories about them?”

  “Maybe. But did it have to be that kind of story?” Her mother resumed her pacing.

  Grace shrugged. “I’m sure there are others too.” She stood, walked over to her mother, and gently gripped her shoulders to make her stop pacing. “These stories have nothing to do with me. They are just fiction.”

  “Just fiction,” her mother repeated as if trying to get it into her head. She inhaled and exhaled audibly. “Okay. So you don’t think we should call your lawyer?”

  Sometimes, Grace felt as if she were the mother and Katherine the child. “No,” she repeated as patiently as she could, “we definitely shouldn’t.”

  “All right. But you need to keep an eye on these crazy fans. I don’t want anyone to take them seriously.”

  “Yes, Mom. Do you want a smoothie?”

  Her mother looked at her dainty gold watch. “No, thanks. If I don’t hurry, I’ll be late for my mani-pedi.” After two air kisses and a wave, she picked up the stack of printouts, holding them between two fingers, and swept out of the house as quickly as she’d come.

  Blowing out a breath, Grace flopped onto the couch.

  Grace saved the attachment with her travel itinerary the studio had sent. Seven premieres in as many days, waking up in a different city every morning… The weeklong tour to promote Ava’s Heart would be exhausting. She took a sip of her green smoothie, for a moment wishing it were something stronger—or at least something more tasty. That made her think of the ice cream Lauren had bought her that morning, which in turn made her think of the fan fiction.

  Thinking of Lauren makes you think of fan fiction? She raised an eyebrow at herself. Well, Lauren was a lesbian, so it was only natural to jump from thoughts about her to thoughts about lesbian fiction, right?

  She opened a new tab in her browser and typed in a search for Central Precinct fan fiction. A number appeared above a list of links. “Two hundred forty-seven thousand hits? Wow.”

  A random click on one link revealed an entire archive of fan fiction. There had to be hundreds or maybe even thousands of stories. Grace’s astonishment grew as she clicked on several and read a few of the descriptions.

  Some stories took place in alternative universes in which Alexandra, her character, was a detective too. Others were crossovers that had the Central Precinct characters meet the heroes and heroines of other popular prime-time shows. Most were short; others had to be longer than some of the novels on her bookshelf.

  Several of the stories paired Alexandra with Detective Halliday’s male partner, but the majority were lesbian in nature, some about her character with one of the female leads, but most about the detective and the medical examiner.

  This apparently was a world of its own. A world she’d had no idea existed, at least not to this extent.

  She clicked on one of the Alexandra Eadington/Linda Halliday stories and started to read. Her mother had told her to keep an eye on the crazy fans and their stories, after all.

  During the first chapter or so, it felt strange to read a story about the character she portrayed on TV, but then the fast-paced plot and the three-dimensional characterization quickly drew her in. Faintly, she worried that reading this author’s interpretation of Alexandra Eadington would influence her portrayal should she be asked to guest-star in another episode, but then she pushed the thought aside and continued to read.

  Some time later, she realized the sun had set outside and she was reading just by the glare of the laptop balancing on her belly. Not setting the laptop down, she stretched out one arm as far as it would go, turned on the light, and continued to read.

  Unlike some of the stories she’d skimmed, this one was good. Really good. Better than some of the books she’d read in the past.

  She grinned as for once, it was her character who was allowed to save the day. Much better than ending up with a black eye. She followed a link to the story’s next chapter.

  Detective Linda Halliday had invited Alexandra over for dinner as a thank-you for saving her life—and now she was watching her guest devour the chocolate mousse she’d made for dessert.

  “You’ve got a little…” Linda pointed to the corner of her mouth.

  Instead of using her napkin, Alexandra flicked her tongue along her bottom lip. “Gone?”

  Linda had to clear her throat before she could answer. “Uh, no.”

  Again, Grace had to think of the ice cream they’d eaten that morning and of Lauren directing her to wipe some of it off her nose. She rolled her eyes at herself. You’re really obsessed with ice cream. Get it out of your head. It’s salad and fruit for you for the foreseeable future. She directed her attention back to the story on her laptop.

  Alexandra licked her upper lip, her tongue dancing along the curved contours. “Now?”

  Was Alexandra teasing her? Was she…flirting? Linda took a big gulp of her Coke, then another one, wishing she could fish the ice cubes out of her soda and slip them down her shirt to cool off. This had to end, or she’d do something stupid. Like walk around the table and wipe that bit of chocolate mousse off with her thumb—which she promptly did. Slowly, she put her finger into her mouth and then withdrew it.

  Now just inches apart, they stared at each other, both flushed. Heat flickered between them, like the shimmering waves above a road leading through the desert.

  Linda’s breathing quickened. “Are you teasing me?”

  “Don’t you like teasing?” Alexandra’s voice was as husky as her own.

  “I like kissing better.”

  Alexandra’s incredibly blue eyes glittered with desire. “Then what are you waiting—?”

  Before she could finish the sentence, Linda pulled her up from the chair and surged forward. At the last possible moment, she tamed her passion and gentled her touch, brushing her lips over Alex’s in a tender caress.

  When Alexandra wound her fingers through Linda’s hair, she came back for a second kiss. This time, the pressure of her lips was firmer. She nipped Alex’s full bottom lip with her teeth and slid her tongue over the wet silk of her mouth, teasing it open.

  Moaning, Alexandra parted her lips. One hand slid down Linda’s neck and dug into her back, pulling her closer, while the other came up, cradling Linda’s jaw, tilting her head so that their mouths fit together even more perfectly.

  Their hips pressed against each other; their breasts melded together.

  Linda’s entire body came alive as she let her tongue entwine with Alex’s. She kissed her slowly, unhurriedly, despite the urgent need pulsing through her body.

  Grace paused and
emptied her smoothie in one big gulp. She was as breathless as the characters. Wow. When had been the last time she’d been kissed like that? Her gaze already back at the screen, she slid her empty glass onto the table without looking.

  Linda caught Alex’s tongue between her lips and sucked. Then she circled that hot tongue with her own before pulling back to teasingly lick her bottom lip.

  Alexandra’s hands burned a path from Linda’s shoulders down to her hips and then slid lower. She tore her mouth away, kissed and nibbled a path along Linda’s neck, and nuzzled her ear.

  Shivers of delight rushed through Linda. Her eyes drifted shut and then popped open when Alexandra grabbed her ass and squeezed with both hands, pulling their hips even closer together. Her clothes felt unbearably heavy against her hot, oversensitized skin. “God, Alex. I want to see you. Feel you. All of you. Now.”

  Looking as if she was beyond speaking, Alex answered nonverbally. With hands that were trembling with desire, she started unbuttoning her blouse.

  “Let me.” Lauren brushed her hands aside and took over.

  Grace frowned. Not Lauren. Linda. It was Linda who was making quick work of Alexandra’s buttons, ripping off the last one when it refused to cooperate fast enough. The names were just too similar; that was all. With a shake of her head, she dove back into the story, not stopping to examine why she kept reading this lesbian romance. A well-written story was a well-written story, no matter if the main characters were gay or straight, right?

  Alexandra shrugged impatiently, letting the silk blouse slide off her shoulders. She reached out and pulled Linda’s sweatshirt off over her head. Both articles of clothing landed next to each other on the floor.

  “God.” Linda groaned. “You’re beautiful.”

  “So are you.”

  They came together in another heated kiss. Linda let her hands roam over the soft curves and dips of Alex’s body. She pressed kisses to her ample cleavage and let her tongue flicker over the edges of the lacy bra. After sliding her hands up Alex’s quivering belly, she teased her nipples through the material of the bra. They hardened immediately under her touch.