Damage Control (The Hollywood Series Book 2) (38 page)

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 her. 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?

“Um, hi,” Grace said.

“Hi.”

When Grace shifted her weight, Lauren realized they were still facing each other across the doorway. “Oh. Please, come on in.”

Grace entered and looked around as if she’d never seen Lauren’s apartment before. Or maybe she was just trying to avoid looking at Lauren.

“Why don’t we…?” Lauren pointed at the couch.

They sat at opposite ends of the sofa, the still-open laptop between them.

Lauren peered over at her, wishing Grace would say something, but at the same time afraid of what it would be. “Do you…do you want something to drink? Coffee or water or…I’m not sure what else I have, but I can take a look.” She leaned forward to get up.

Grace reached over and clasped her sleeve, holding her in place, and then quickly pulled her hand back. “No. I…I just want to get this over with.”

Lauren’s entire body went cold. That didn’t sound promising. “O-okay.” She sank back against the couch cushions. Half turning, she stared at Grace and waited for what she would say.
Breathe, you idiot, or the only thing she’ll say is that your lips are turning blue.

After endless seconds of just staring straight ahead, tugging at the frayed gauze on the edge of her cast, Grace finally looked at her. Her blue eyes had darkened to the color of the ocean during a storm. “Maybe I shouldn’t have come. I don’t know if I can talk about this. Not in a way that makes sense.”

Lauren gripped the armrest. She didn’t want Grace to leave, damning her to stay in that perpetual loop of hope and fear. “Please. Try.”

Grace nodded. She pulled Betty from the back of the couch and buried her face against the lynx’s soft fur.

It hurt to see her struggle like this. Lauren nudged the laptop toward Grace. “Do you think this would help?”

Grace lifted her head and glanced at the screen, where Lauren’s script was still open. Her brow furrowed, and she sent Lauren a questioning gaze. “Your script? How’s that supposed to help?”

“Not the script. Writing. If you can’t talk about it, maybe writing will be easier. It always helps me think more clearly.” Lauren took the laptop, opened a new document, and typed a couple of lines before handing it back.

LAUREN

See? This is what I mean. Talk to me. Please.

A slow smile chased away some of the tension on Grace’s face. “You’re such a geek.”

The warm affection in her voice gave Lauren hope. “Is that a good thing?”

“I think so.” Grace pulled the laptop closer and let her fingers hover over the keyboard. They were trembling.

Lauren wanted to place her hand over Grace’s fingers and give them an encouraging squeeze, but she forced herself to sit still and wait.

Slowly, using only her good hand, Grace started typing. She hesitated often as if fighting with every word. Finally, she paused and turned the laptop a little.

Lauren slid closer so she could read what Grace had written. Since she was wearing shorts, she could feel the warmth of Grace’s leg against hers.
Focus.
She drew a deep breath and then looked at the screen.

GRACE

I really need to apologize for ambushing you like that. I didn’t… I don’t know what I was thinking. I just wanted you to stop talking.

Lauren pulled the laptop over so she could type her reply.

LAUREN

Yeah, that certainly shut me up. But was that really all there was to it?

She handed the laptop back to Grace, who sat staring at the screen and gnawing on her lip for several seconds before slowly starting to type.

Lauren waited with bated breath until she could finally read Grace’s answer.

GRACE

At that moment, I didn’t think so. But now…I just don’t know. God, I can’t believe I just kissed you.

Too impatient to keep passing the laptop back and forth, Lauren cleared her throat and asked, “Do you regret it?”

GRACE

Yes. No. I don’t know up from down right now, Lauren. I’ve never been attracted to another woman before.

Never before…
Lauren latched on to those words with the desperate hope of a drowning woman grasping a lifeline. “And now?” she asked. “Are you…do you think you could be attracted to me?”

With fingers that were visibly trembling, Grace typed three words.

GRACE

(whispering)

Yes.

She closed the laptop with a soft click and looked up at Lauren. “I don’t know what this is or where it’ll go. I don’t know if it can go anywhere. I mean, the two of us just spent the last three months denying to the press and the world that I’m gay, and now…”

Lauren reached out and gently laid one finger against Grace’s mouth, interrupting her. As her fingertip touched the soft lips, she had to stop herself from stroking them. “Let’s not think that far ahead. For now, this is between you and me. No press. No world. Can you do that?”

Grace’s shuddery exhale brushed her finger, and she pulled it back so Grace could answer. “I think so.” She closed her eyes for a moment as if letting what she’d just said sink in. When she opened them again, her expression was so vulnerable that Lauren wanted to hug her close. “Right now, I’m not sure of much, not even of my own feelings. But I know one thing for sure: I don’t want to end up hurting you or our friendship.”

“Me neither.”

Their hands found each other, and both squeezed softly.

If Lauren forced herself to be realistic for a second, she knew the chances that they would ever be more than friends were slim. Even if Grace was attracted to her, she might run, scared of her own feelings and their consequences; her boss might fire her; Grace’s career might suffer. There were a thousand reasons why she shouldn’t even think about pursuing anything more than friendship with Grace. It was crazy, really, but for now, she didn’t want to think about any of that. All she wanted was to focus on the way it felt to hold Grace’s hand and let herself imagine that this little bit of intimacy was just the beginning. “I don’t want to pressure you into anything you don’t want. If this,” she pointed back and forth between them with her free hand, “isn’t right for you, then I’ll deal with it and be your friend. But I’d really like to see where things are going, if you’re willing to do that.”

Grace looked at her for a while. Lauren had no idea what answers she was seeking and if she found them. Eventually, Grace whispered, “Okay.”

Joy flowed through Lauren. She felt like jumping up and doing a jig through her apartment, but she knew it was much too soon for any sort of celebration. Grace still looked tense. Time to lighten the mood. “Good. Now that we’ve got that settled…” Lauren gave her an exaggerated leer and a wink. “Want to make out?”

The tension in the room broke when Grace burst out laughing. She let go of Lauren’s hand, grabbed Betty the lynx, and hit Lauren with the stuffed animal. “You!”

“What!” Lauren warded off the playful attack with both hands. “It’s what the characters in love stories always do after heartfelt discussions like the one we just had, isn’t it?”

“I thought you don’t write love stories?”

Lauren’s lips curved up into a soft smile. “I’m thinking about changing that.”

“Yeah?”

Lauren nodded. Inadvertently, her gaze was drawn down, to Grace’s mouth. God, she wanted so much to lean over and kiss her, but she knew she had to let Grace take that step. She forced her gaze away from those tempting lips.

Grace placed the laptop on the coffee table and got up. “I think I should go. It’s getting dark and I’m pretty tired. You look like you could use some sleep too.”

Truth be told, Lauren was exhausted, but she still didn’t want Grace to go. She also didn’t like the thought of her making the drive up the canyon alone. “I know you love staying at the cottage, but I really don’t like the thought of you driving up the dirt road at night.”

“I told you I’ve done it a thousand times before.”

“Yeah, but you look like you haven’t slept in days.” Images of Grace falling asleep at the wheel and crashing darted through her mind.

Grace rubbed her eyes. “I haven’t.”

“Me neither.”

With a wry grin, Grace shook her head. “We’re quite the pair, aren’t we?”

“I think we could be,” Lauren said quietly.

Their gazes met. Something sparked between them; then Grace looked away. “I could stay with Jill tonight, if that would make you feel better.”

“Or you could sleep here, with me,” Lauren said.

“Uh…” Grace stared at her.

Lauren laughed. “Get your mind out of the gutter, superstar. I’m talking about a perfectly innocent sleepover, nothing else. We wouldn’t even sleep in the same room.”

Grace blushed a lovely shade of fuchsia, making Lauren smile.

“So,” Lauren said, deciding to go easy on Grace and not tease her any further, “what do you think? Would you like to stay?”

Wordlessly, Grace nodded.

“Come on, then. Let’s get you settled in the bedroom. I’m sleeping on the couch.”

Grace stared into the darkness. The bedroom surrounding her was as unfamiliar as the feelings coursing through her.
God, what am I doing?
A part of her wanted to rush out into the living room, shake Lauren awake, and tell her that this was crazy and they could never be anything but friends.

But was that really what she wanted—or was that just her fear talking? If there were no cameras, no pressure from her fans, the media, and the studio, no mother with high expectations of her only offspring, what would she, Grace, want for herself?

She realized that she had never before allowed herself to think about it. When she’d found out about Jill’s diagnosis, she had thought about her regrets and the things she
didn’t
want in her life—being married to a man she was fond of but didn’t love with all her heart—but she had never wondered what it was she wanted instead.

For close to thirty years, a successful career as an actress had been all she’d wanted. At least she had thought so.
Okay, so maybe you want more from life, but…a woman? Really?

She buried her face in the pillow, as if that would help drown out her racing thoughts. All it did was make her inhale a whiff of Lauren’s scent, which clung to the pillowcase. It was soothing and exciting at the same time.

Grunting, she turned onto her back. She was exhausted but still couldn’t sleep. Her brain bombarded her with all kinds of thoughts and questions. What would her mother say when she found out where she’d spent the night? What would happen to her career if she did get involved with Lauren? What would it feel like to kiss her again?

Whoa. Sleep. You need sleep.

The bedroom door creaked open, and Lauren tiptoed inside.

Grace sat up in bed. “Lauren? What are you doing up?”

“Oh. Sorry. I didn’t want to wake you. I just need the bathroom.” Her bare feet padded closer. The light on the bedside table flared on, and they both blinked into the sudden brightness. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I just couldn’t sleep.”

“Me neither.” Lauren shuffled her feet and coughed once. Without her glasses, in just a T-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts, she looked young and vulnerable.

Adorable.
Grace couldn’t help smiling.