Damage Control

by Jae

  “And now you have to give up your own life in return?”

  “Who says that’s what I’m doing?”

  Lauren raised her chin and looked into her eyes, challenging her. “When was the last time you ordered dessert without earning a dirty look from your mother or feeling guilty?”

  Grace opened her mouth to say something, but Lauren just kept talking.

  “When was the last time you did something, anything, just because you felt like it, without wondering what your mother or anyone else would think?”

  “I do that all the time,” Grace said. Goddammit, Lauren was making her sound like a child who couldn’t even decide what clothes to put on in the morning without her mother’s approval! She shoved her chair back from the table and marched to the edge of the patio, staring down at Topanga Canyon without really seeing it.

  Lauren’s chair scraped over the stone floor as she got up and stormed after her. “No, you don’t. Even now when you’re spitting mad at me, you walk away and avoid any conflict instead of saying what you’re really thinking.”

  Hands clenched into fists, Grace whirled around and found herself almost nose to nose with Lauren. Her perfume mingled with the canyon’s sage scent and teased Grace’s flared nostrils. The fine hairs on her arms prickled with the tension between them.

  “You’re acting and pretending all the time. Why don’t you turn off the stage instructions in your head for once and show some real emotion?”

  Blood roared through Grace’s ears. The urge to slap Lauren or do something, anything, to make her stop talking gripped her. “You want emotion?” she ground out through gritted teeth. “How about this?” She grabbed Lauren by the lapels of her leather blazer and roughly pulled her forward.

  Their bodies collided; then Grace’s lips were on Lauren’s.

  She’d meant for it to be hard, punishing, but at the touch of soft lips against hers, something ignited inside her. The kiss gentled. It lasted for only a couple of thudding heartbeats, not long enough for Lauren to push her away—or kiss her back.

  Heat zinged through Grace. She pulled back with a gasp.

  In the sudden silence between them, Lauren’s sharp intake of breath sounded overly loud. She reached up and touched her lips. Her fingers trembled. She stared at Grace with wide eyes, her pupils so large that only hazel rings remained of her irises.

  Grace pressed her hand to her own mouth, where the kiss still seemed to sear through her. “Oh God. I’m so sorry. I didn’t…”

  Lauren reached for her, but Grace quickly stumbled back, almost afraid of what would happen if she let Lauren touch her now.

  “Grace, please. Talk to me.”

  She roughly shook her head. “I can’t. Not now.” Her brain was on overload, and she struggled to form even one halfway clear thought. “Please. Can you…? I need some time alone.”

  Still breathing heavily, Lauren searched her face or maybe searched for something to say. Finally, she just nodded. “Once you can talk about it, please call me.”

  Her lips pressed together, Grace made a vague sound of agreement.

  Lauren lifted one hand as if to touch Grace’s arm before seeming to change her mind and making it a short wave. Then she was gone. The sliding door clicked shut behind her.

  Grace collapsed onto one of the patio chairs and let her head drop onto the red file folder Lauren had left behind.

  CHAPTER 27

  Lauren hid in the small kitchen, preparing the dressing for the salad and trying to ignore her parents’ arguing in the living area. For once, it was easy to do since her mind wasn’t on what was going on in her apartment anyway.

  In between adding vinegar, olive oil, and salt, her hand kept returning to her lips. She could still feel Grace’s mouth on hers, even after two days, seven hours, and about twenty minutes. To say that the kiss had thrown her for a loop was an understatement. It hadn’t been just the kiss itself, that all-too-short contact of their lips, but the fact that Grace had chosen that way to end their argument.

  What did it mean? If the kiss was supposed to prove that Grace wasn’t always acting, did it indicate that Grace felt something for her too? Or had it just been Hollywood’s age-old method of manipulation, an attempt to win the discussion by whatever means available?

  Lauren shook her head. She couldn’t make herself believe that Grace would manipulate her like that and use Lauren’s feelings against her. Besides, Grace had appeared just as shaken by her actions as Lauren. Confusion and panic had been obvious in her widened eyes, forcing Lauren to back off and leave.

  Even if Grace felt something more than friendship for her, the chances that she would ever act on her feelings again were slim to none. Doing so would seriously affect her career. And yours too. Getting involved with a client—and not just any client… Marlene wouldn’t tolerate it. No matter how she looked at it, there just wasn’t any future for her and Grace. Lauren slumped against the kitchen counter.

  “Can the salad go on the table?” her mother asked right next to her.

  Lauren jumped and dropped the spoon she’d been holding. She quickly poured the dressing over the salad and tossed it. “All ready.”

  They settled at the dining table and started to eat. Her parents discussed upcoming red-carpet events they would attend together, as usual giving the impression of a happily married couple. Lauren knew that they’d fight in the limo, up until the moment they stepped into the spotlight. It was a reminder not to get involved with an actress. Nothing was real in Hollywood.

  That brief kiss, the heat of Grace’s body against hers, and then the confusion in Grace’s eyes had felt real, though.

  Lauren pushed her food from one side of the plate to the other, making herself crazy with what-ifs. She listened to their conversation with one ear while half her attention remained on her cell phone, in case Grace called.

  Her father let out a gasp, reached for his glass, and gulped down the wine. When they stared at him, he waved at his plate with flushed cheeks. “What the hell did you put in that salad?”

  “The usual.” Lauren carefully tried a bit of the salad—and nearly spat it back out. The dressing tasted as if she’d used an entire bottle of vinegar. “I’m sorry. I must have lost track of how much vinegar I put in.” More like you’ve lost your mind.

  The ringing of her cell phone made her jump. Her knee hit the table, making the plates rattle. Grace! With trembling fingers, she pulled out her phone. When she saw that it was Jill, relief and disappointment warred within her.

  Her parents had always found it perfectly normal to answer business calls during dinner, so she lifted the phone to her ear. “Hi, Jill,” she said, trying to sound cheerful, as if she hadn’t been moping around for the last two days. “What can I do for my favorite client?”

  Jill let out an unladylike snort. “Don’t bother. I know who your favorite client is, and it’s not me.”

  Was she that obvious? Shit. None of her clients had ever been privy to her personal feelings, and now not one but two clients had breached that barrier. The thing that had always been most important to Lauren—absolute professionalism—had gone out the window the moment she’d met Grace.

  “Lauren? Is everything all right?” Jill asked when Lauren remained silent.

  “Yeah. Everything’s fine. It’s just… I have guests over for dinner.”

  “Oh. Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Jill said quickly. “I just wanted to talk to you about a fundraiser I thought Grace and I could do. I’ll run it by Grace first and then get back to you.”

  It was crazy, but just the mention of Grace’s name made Lauren’s heart beat faster. She even found herself a little jealous. Jill could call Grace while she had to wait for Grace to contact her. She suppressed a sigh. “Sounds good.”

  When they ended the call,
she considered turning off the phone before returning to her dinner. Her finger hovered over the power button. No. She couldn’t do it. Reason might tell her to stay away from Grace, but her heart said something else. Besides, one of her other clients—or even Grace, if she had a media emergency—might try to reach her, so she couldn’t just turn off the phone. Whatever happened, she had to be as professional as possible. She put the phone on the table, where she could see it while she continued to poke at her now nearly cold food.

  Grace had probably lost a few pounds pacing the cottage in the last three days. She couldn’t sleep. She couldn’t eat. All she could do was replay that moment out on the patio over and over again. Sometimes, her tired mind showed her alternative endings to the encounter—once or twice, imaginary Lauren pushed her away, but most often, she wrapped her arms around Grace and kissed her back with a passion that made Grace’s head spin.

  At night, when she lay on the sleeper sofa and stared at the dark ceiling, her amazingly clear memory of the softness of Lauren’s lips, the smoothness of her skin, the heat of her body mingled with scenes from that damn fan fiction story she’d read.

  Had that been why she’d reacted so strongly to the lesbian love scene in that story? Was she attracted to women—to Lauren?

  Impossible. She had spent her life around beautiful women. If she were gay or bisexual, she would have noticed by now. There’d been nothing more than fleeting glances and professional admiration for other actresses who knew how to make the most out of what they had. That was perfectly normal, even for straight women, right?

  But that kiss… Straight women didn’t do that. They didn’t feel what she’d felt when they touched the lips of another woman with her own—if they’d ever do such a thing.

  Grace groaned. Maybe a soak in the hot tub, with her cast carefully wrapped in a plastic bag, would help her clear her head. But when she pushed open the sliding doors and stepped onto the patio, her gaze landed on the spot where she’d kissed Lauren.

  The ringing of her phone interrupted another replay.

  Her heartbeat sped up at the thought that it might be Lauren. God, I’m not ready for that conversation. She pulled the phone out of her pocket and walked to the corner of the patio with the best reception before answering the phone.

  “Hi, stranger,” Jill’s voice came from the other end of the line. “I haven’t heard from you in a while. How are you doing?”

  “I’m fine,” Grace said before she could even think about her answer. God, Lauren was right. She was acting a lot, even when she talked to her best friend.

  “So, what’s new with you?” Jill asked.

  Everything. Nothing seemed to be the same anymore. Even things she’d always taken for granted were now called into question. “Not much,” she answered and wondered whether that sounded as lame to Jill as it did to her. “I decided not to go out with Todd anymore.”

  “Good,” Jill said. “I never understood why you thought going out with him just for appearance’s sake was a good PR strategy. I bet Lauren didn’t like it either.”

  “No, she didn’t.” Before Jill could delve into the reason Lauren didn’t like her dating Todd, Grace said, “Enough about me. What have you been up to?”

  Jill blew out a noisy breath. “Not much. My career seems to be in a lull at the moment.”

  A bitter taste flooded Grace’s mouth. “Do you think that’s because you came out?” One more reason why she had to get these crazy thoughts about Lauren and their kiss out of her mind. Her career had been the focus of her life for thirty years. She couldn’t risk that now.

  “Hard to tell. Whatever it is, I’m not going to sit around and feel sorry for myself while I wait for the rest of Hollywood to get their heads out of their asses.”

  The way I do. Despite the MS that sometimes weakened her body, Jill was so much stronger than she was. “Have I ever told you how much I admire you?”

  “Enough to wait tables with me?” Jill asked.

  Grace frowned. “Uh, things aren’t that bad financially, are they? Because you know I could always lend you—”

  Jill’s laughter interrupted her. “No. That’s not what I meant. There’ll be a benefit dinner in two weeks where celebrities will wait tables. The money raised goes to unemployed actors and their families.”

  Grace had been lucky. Unlike many of her colleagues, she’d never had to work in a restaurant or at any job other than acting. “That sounds like a good thing. Count me in. Maybe we can even get Amanda to join us.”

  “I already asked her, but with her shooting schedule, she can’t make it. But we should get Lauren to beat the big advertisement drum so we’ll get some big tippers at the tables.”

  Just when Grace had stopped thinking about her for a second, Jill had to mention her name again.

  “Knowing you, you’ll talk to Lauren before I do,” Jill said. “Can you let her know? I tried to call her yesterday, but she had someone over for dinner and couldn’t talk.”

  Lauren had had dinner with someone? Grace immediately started wondering whether it had been a woman. Oh, come on. You’re not jealous, are you?

  “Earth to Grace? You’ll ask her, won’t you?”

  “Um, can’t you do it?”

  Jill was silent for a moment. “Did you and Lauren have a fight or something?”

  “Or something,” Grace muttered.

  “What happened?”

  Grace couldn’t talk about it yet, not even to her best friend. Not when she barely understood it herself. “Nothing.”

  “You don’t expect me to believe that, do you? I know you better than that. You usually go out of your way to avoid conflicts, so if you and Lauren got into a fight, something must have happened.”

  Her friend wouldn’t let it go. Grace knew that. “Lauren said something she probably shouldn’t have said. And then I did something I definitely shouldn’t have done.”

  “Did you slap her?” Jill asked.

  “What? No!”

  “Then it couldn’t have been that bad.”

  Grace sighed. “You have no idea.”

  “I don’t. Because you won’t tell me anything.” A bit of hurt vibrated in Jill’s tone.

  “It’s not that I don’t want to. I just… I can’t.”

  “Then at least go and talk to Lauren. She sounded a little off when I talked to her. Whatever happened affected her too. You need to clear the air.”

  Jill was right; Grace knew that. She had kissed Lauren out of the blue, in the middle of an argument, and then sent her away. Poor Lauren was probably just as confused as Grace was. She had to face her sooner or later. Her stomach tightened at the mere thought. “I will.”

  “Good. And if you need someone to talk to—someone other than Lauren, I mean—let me know.”

  “Thank you,” Grace said around the big lump in her throat.

  When they ended the call, she stood on the patio and stared at the phone in her hand. Should she call Lauren? But what would she say?

  Finally, after ten minutes of internal debate, she decided to drive to Brentwood and see if Lauren was home. What if she doesn’t want to see me? She hesitated, then decided to try anyway. Anything was better than sitting around in the cottage, driving herself crazy for three more days. At least the drive to Brentwood would give her forty more minutes to think about what to say—or to change her mind and turn back around.

  For the first time in her life, Lauren couldn’t focus on work, so she left the office on time for a change. At home, she tried to write a little and revise her script, but all it did was remind her of Grace, who’d been the one to suggest the rewrite.

  Groaning, she pushed the laptop away and ran both hands through her hair. It seemed Grace had finally succeeded in stopping her from being such a workaholic—just by kissing he
r. That single touch of Grace’s lips had turned her life upside down in a way nothing else ever had.

  The doorbell rang.

  Her heart beat a rapid staccato against her ribcage as she walked to the intercom. Calm down. That’s probably just Mrs. Tuckerman needing to borrow a cup of sugar or something. But that internal reprimand didn’t stop her from half-hoping, half-fearing that it might be Grace. Every phone call or new e-mail she had received during the last three days had started that wild rush of emotions. Each time, it had been someone else, though.

  “Yes?”

  Only silence answered.

  She peered through the peephole. The corridor in front of the apartment was empty, so it couldn’t be her neighbor.

  Just when she was about to put it off as some prank from the neighborhood kids and return to the couch, the intercom crackled to life.

  “It’s me. Grace.”

  Lauren stood at the door, frozen. Now that Grace had finally contacted her, she didn’t know what to say, afraid to scare her away.

  “Lauren?”

  “Uh, yeah,” Lauren said into the speaker. “Sorry. Come on up.” She pressed the buzzer to let her in. Her gaze darted from the dishes in the drain board to the papers strewn across the coffee table. Too late to clean it all up. Grace would be here in a minute. She glanced down at her T-shirt and shorts, making sure there were no stains. Christ, calm down. I doubt Grace cares about what you’re wearing or what the apartment looks like.

  A light rap sounded on the door.

  Lauren wiped her damp palms on her shorts and opened it.

  After not seeing her or speaking to her for three days, being in Grace’s presence again was electrifying. Lauren drank her in—the tousled hair, the makeup-free face, the dark circles around her eyes. She was beautiful, but it was easy to see that Grace hadn’t been sleeping either. What did it mean?