Damage Control (The Hollywood Series Book 2) (41 page)

When she was the last guest in the room, Lauren signaled for the check.

Instead of Grace, Jill appeared at her table.

“Where’s Grace?” Lauren asked.

“Back there.” Jill pointed at the kitchen. “Hiding from her mother.”

Lauren slapped a bundle of fifty-dollar bills into Jill’s hands and hurried toward the kitchen. A member of the regular restaurant staff tried to stop her. “I’m Ms. Durand’s publicist,” she said and pushed past him through the swing door.

Grace sat on a stool in one corner of the kitchen, looking as if she was trying to make herself invisible. Not that it would ever work for a beautiful celebrity like her.

Wordlessly, Lauren took her hand and, after a quick glance around to make sure no one was watching, pulled her around the corner and through a door labeled
storage
. “What’s wrong?” she whispered as soon as the door closed behind them. She turned on the light in the small room so she could see Grace’s face.

Her lips compressed into a line, Grace shook her head. “Nothing.”

“No acting, remember? Please, tell me. Did your mother do something?”

Grace sighed. “She saw the way you looked at me. Let’s just say she wasn’t amused.”

“I’m sorry. I tried to be inconspicuous, but I guess my acting skills suck.” Head down, she regarded the gray-tiled floor.

A soft touch to her hand made her look back up. “Don’t apologize,” Grace said. “I…I like the way you look at me.”

Warmth flowed through Lauren. “You do?” She knew she was fishing for reassurance, but she couldn’t help it.

Grace nodded. “I wish the same could be said for my mother. She’s very suspicious of your intentions toward me. God, Lauren, she will never accept this…us.” Her shoulders slumped.

“Come here.” Lauren pulled her close and immediately felt Grace bury her head against her shoulder. Her heart was beating fast against Lauren’s chest, and so was Lauren’s—not just because of having Grace’s body pressed against hers, but also because she was afraid. It would be so much easier for Grace to just ignore whatever feelings she might have for her and continue to let others perceive her as the perfectly straight star of romantic comedies.

Lauren wanted to beg her not to do that, to give them a chance, but what right did she have to ask Grace to risk her career and her relationship with her mother for her? She bit her lip and continued to hold Grace, who clutched her in a grip that felt almost desperate.

After a while of just standing there, between large plastic containers, cases of olive oil, and a shelf full of paper towels, Grace’s grip on her finally eased. “Thanks,” she whispered, but instead of letting go and moving back, she continued to hold Lauren close.

Lauren certainly wasn’t about to object.

Tentatively, Grace ran her hands along Lauren’s back, making shivers rush through her body. “I couldn’t tell you earlier, but you look nice.”

“Me? I could barely keep my eyes off you the whole evening. You look so damn sexy in this apron.”

Grace grinned. “Jill thought you’d think so. Is this a lesbian fetish I’m not aware of?”

“I don’t think so, but I just added it to my list of personal fantasies.”

Instead of an answer, Grace leaned up and kissed her, first almost shyly, then more deeply.

Lauren struggled to hold back a moan and returned the kiss. God, she could kiss Grace forever.

But all too soon, Grace pulled back. Her chest heaved as if she’d just run a marathon. “This is crazy,” she whispered.

“Kissing me?” Lauren asked, still not sure what Grace was feeling.

Grace shook her head. “Kissing you in a storage room, with people right outside.” She touched Lauren’s cheek and looked into her eyes. “But I just couldn’t resist.”

A groan wrenched from Lauren’s lips. She was a writer and a publicist, a woman who made her living with words, but for once, she was speechless.

“Come on. Time for us to”—Grace chuckled—“come out of the storage closet. Figuratively speaking, of course.”

Lauren grinned and then sobered. “You’re a wonderful woman. Don’t let your mother tell you otherwise, no matter what happens, okay?”

Every hint of her smile faded from Grace’s face. She nodded. “I’ll try.”

After one last squeeze of Grace’s apron-covered hip, Lauren moved past her. “Give me a two-minute head start, then come out.”

“Okay.”

If only she were as willing to come out of the proverbial closet too. Lauren rolled her eyes at herself. She knew she was putting the cart before the horse. Years ago, she hadn’t been ready to come out within just a few weeks of finding herself attracted to a girl for the first time either. Vowing to be patient, even if it killed her, she pushed the door open and stepped back into the kitchen.

CHAPTER 30

Grace sat with her mother, enjoying low-carb cheesecake and tea at Katherine’s home in Beverly Hills, when her cell phone rang. Okay, maybe she wasn’t enjoying the cake so much, but now that she had Lauren in her life, she needed to provide some balance to the ice cream and hot dogs that Lauren kept feeding her.

With an apologetic glance at her mother, she pulled the phone from her back pocket. It was Lauren. Just the name on her phone display made Grace’s heart beat faster.

“Hi,” Lauren said when Grace answered the phone. “I’m back safe and sound.”

God, it was good to hear her voice. Since Lauren had been out of town at a seminar, they hadn’t seen each other or spoken much this week. “Give me a second.” She couldn’t talk to Lauren while her mother listened to every word. After the celebrity waiter dinner last week, her mother was already suspicious of Lauren. With another apologetic glance, she got up from the couch and went to the patio, where her mother couldn’t hear her. “Sorry I couldn’t pick you up from the airport.”

Lauren chuckled. “It was for my own good. Can you imagine the headlines if the airport paparazzi caught us kissing each other hello?”

Grace’s stomach first got butterflies at the thought of kissing Lauren and then churned when she thought about the headlines it would cause. She quickly changed the topic. “So, how was the seminar?”

A long groan reverberated through the phone. “You could fit everything I learned in the past five days into one e-mail—and not a very long one either. But I didn’t call to talk about work.” Her voice lowered to a more intimate purr that made a shiver run through Grace.

She sat at the edge of her mother’s pool and dangled her bare legs in the water. “So there’s a special reason for the call?”

“Yeah.” Lauren sucked in an audible breath. “Well, I was wondering…if you don’t have anything else planned this weekend, would you maybe want to go on a date with me?”

Grace’s mouth went dry. She stopped moving her legs in the pool. “A date?”

“Yeah. You know, that thing where two people who like each other go to a restaurant to eat.” Lauren’s obvious nervousness was replaced with gentle teasing.

“No,” Grace said. “That’s called grabbing a bite to eat with a friend. A date is a little different, isn’t it?”

“You’re the queen of romantic movies, so I’ll bow to your superior knowledge. I’d very much like to take you out on a date, not just a bite to eat with a friend. So, what do you think?”

All sound ceased at the other end of the line, as if Lauren was holding her breath.

“I’d love to go out with you, really, but do you think that’s a good idea? I mean, out in public, we couldn’t do any of the things all the other couples do. No holding hands, no loving gazes, no kiss good night.” She felt bad for having to point it out but knew it was a reality they had to face.

Lauren sighed. “I guess it was a pretty dumb idea.”

“No,” Grace said quickly. The disappointment and dejection in Lauren’s voice hurt. “No. It wasn’t. How about we have our date up at the cottage? Just you and me. I’ll even cook.”

“Real food?” Lauren sounded suspicious. “Not that low-carb, low-taste, low-everything stuff you Hollywood stars call food?”

Grace laughed. “Real food. I might even go all out and make a dessert.”

“Ooh. Well, in that case, I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Not just because of the dessert.”

Giddiness, mixed with just a bit of nerves, rushed through Grace at the thought of having an intimate dinner with Lauren.

After a moment of silence, Lauren cleared her throat. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but should I bring my pajamas?”

Grace’s breath caught as she thought of Lauren in her pajamas—and out of them. “Uh…”

“I’m just asking because I’d rather not navigate the dirt road in the dark. I’ll sleep on the couch, of course.”

“Um, that’s where I’m sleeping while I still can’t climb up to the loft because of the cast. But you can have the bed.” Somehow, offering Lauren her bed felt intimate.

“Okay,” Lauren said, her voice a bit husky. “If you’re comfortable with that.”

“I am.” To her surprise, Grace found it was the truth.

“Thanks. So, how does tomorrow at seven sound?”

Grace didn’t have to think twice. “Sounds good. Do you want wine with dinner?”

“No,” Lauren said firmly. “I’ll have what you’re having.”

Her consideration warmed Grace’s heart. She smiled. “Sounds like that famous line from
When Harry Met Sally
.”

They both laughed.

“God, I’m dating someone who’s in showbiz,” Lauren said. “I never thought that would happen again, but I’m really glad it is.”

“Me too,” Grace said. They were both quiet for several moments, just enjoying their connection and listening to each other breathe. “Sorry, I need to get back inside. I’m at my mother’s. By now, she’s probably wondering if I fell in the pool and drowned.”

They said good-bye, and Grace padded back inside with her feet wet. If she was lucky, her mother would focus on the mess she made on the tiles in the living room instead of her phone call.

“Who was that?” her mother asked immediately, pointing at the phone that Grace was pocketing.

No such luck.
Grace resisted the urge to grimace. “Uh, just Lauren.”

Her mother’s forehead crinkled as much as it could. “What did she want?”

“Oh, just to set up an appointment. We’ll meet this weekend to go over promo events for the awards season.” They’d already done that, although her mother didn’t know. She felt bad about lying, but what choice did she have?

Her mother let out a long-suffering sigh. “I really wish you wouldn’t spend so much time with that woman. I have a bad feeling about it.”

“Mom…”

“All right, all right.” Her mother held up both hands, palms out. “You’re an adult. I trust you to take care of yourself should she…”

Grace’s hackles rose. “Should she…what?”

“Should she try anything.”

Her cheeks burning with the heat of anger, Grace put her hands on her hips and faced her mother fully. “What has Lauren ever done to make you think such a thing about her? She would never…” So far, Grace had been the one to initiate all of their kisses. Lauren had always let her take the first step, making sure it was really what Grace wanted.

“I get a strange vibe every time I see her looking at you,” her mother said. “I don’t like it.”

For one terrifying moment, Grace wanted to stop her mother’s accusations against Lauren by confessing her feelings, but her fear of the consequences was too strong. Her mother would have a nervous breakdown if she confessed to even the slightest attraction to another woman, much less that she had kissed her several times—and fantasized about doing a whole lot more.

“Mom, listen to me.” She took her mother’s hand. “Lauren is my friend. She’s also one of the most honorable, decent people I know. She would never touch me in any way without my consent.”

Her mother didn’t seem particularly reassured. Did she already suspect Grace might give her consent? “Let’s not talk about it anymore,” her mother finally said. “So, will you take care of the house while I’m in the Caymans? You know I don’t trust hired people with the house for that long.”

Every year in October, her mother spent two weeks at a luxury resort in the Cayman Islands.

“I will. But now I have to go.” She had a date to plan, after all.

Lauren couldn’t remember when she’d last taken so much time to dress for a date. Normally, she just picked something from her closet that seemed to fit well together and was ready to go within ten minutes.

Now, she agonized over what blouse would bring out the golden sparks in her eyes, what pair of slacks would make her thighs look most slender, and how many buttons on her blouse would be appropriate to leave open. She tried to tell herself it didn’t matter. After all, Grace would look beautiful to her even if she wore a burlap dress made of a potato sack, so she hoped Grace would find her attractive, no matter what she wore, too.

But her attempts to reassure herself did nothing to settle her nerves. She felt as if all the other dates in her life had merely been playacting. This one really counted.

Finally, with the clock urging her on, she decided on a pair of tailored slacks and a blouse that was a bit sexier than anything she wore at work. It had the exact color of Grace’s favorite shade of lipstick. She grabbed the bottle of nonalcoholic wine she’d bought and sprinted to her car. Just as she got behind the wheel, she realized she’d forgotten to bring her sleepwear.

God, you’re really losing it!
She hurried back inside, needed another two minutes to decide between pajamas versus boxer shorts and a T-shirt, and finally sprinted back to the car with the pair of pajamas.

Traffic was bad until she got closer to Topanga. As she crawled up the dirt road toward the cottage, she realized she was still on time.
Phew!
She’d been late on so many dates because she’d gotten held up at work, but she didn’t want to be late for this one.

When she reached the cottage’s front door, she took a moment to smooth any wrinkles out of her slacks and make sure her blouse was properly buttoned.

The door opened before she could ring the doorbell. Had Grace already been waiting, maybe because she was just as nervous?

Then she caught sight of Grace, and any halfway intelligent thought died away. Her mouth went dry as her gaze traveled up a pair of formfitting jeans and a crimson halter top that showed off Grace’s sculpted shoulders and arms. Grace wasn’t wearing any makeup as far as she could see. Lauren preferred it that way. She wanted to spend the evening with Grace, the woman she was starting to fall in love with, not the movie star.

“I…uh…hi.” Helplessly, Lauren held out the bottle of nonalcoholic wine.

Grace took it, cradling it to her chest. “Thank you.” Her gaze lingered on Lauren’s blouse before she blinked and tore her gaze away. She was wearing flat sandals, so she had to lift up a little to greet Lauren with a quick kiss on the mouth.

It was over much too fast but still left Lauren’s head spinning.

“Um, come on in.” Grace stepped back. “I’m running a little late, but dinner should be ready in about ten minutes.”

Had she taken forever to get dressed too? Well, in Lauren’s opinion, it had been worth every minute—especially when Grace turned around to lead her into the cottage. Her top was held up by just a neck strap, leaving her upper back bare. Was she even wearing a bra? If she was, it had to be a strapless one.

Stop thinking about her bra…or lack thereof!
Lauren tried to keep her gaze in a more respectable area as she followed Grace inside. “Oh, wow, something smells heavenly. Don’t tell me you can cook!”

Grace reached back and lightly pinched Lauren’s upper arm. “Don’t sound so surprised.”

“Hey, stop manhandling the hired help!” Lauren rubbed her arm but was secretly glad that Grace seemed to feel more relaxed around her, resuming the kind of playful interaction they had shared when they’d been just friends.

Grace turned. Instead of the teasing answer Lauren had expected, she regarded her with a serious expression. “You’re not here as my publicist.”

“No. I’m not.”

“For tonight, let’s just be Grace and Lauren, not an actress and her publicist. Can we do that?”

Her throat went tight, so Lauren just nodded. Finally, she managed to say, “I’d love that.” She followed Grace to the small kitchenette. Sauce simmered on the stove, but there were no dirty pots stacked in the sink, so Grace had apparently cleaned up the kitchen before Lauren arrived.

Grace moved back to the stove to stir the sauce.

Lauren stepped up behind her, peered over her shoulder, and deeply inhaled. She wasn’t sure what smelled better—the sauce or Grace. “Anything I can help with?”

A visible shiver went through Grace. She turned slowly. Her eyes glittered like the surface of the ocean on a gorgeous day. “You could go out to the patio and make yourself comfortable. You’re much too distracting to stay in the kitchen.”

“Am I?” Lauren murmured. She couldn’t look away from Grace’s eyes.

Grace nodded. Her tongue darted out, wetting her full bottom lip.

The air between them was charged with a heat that had nothing to do with the nearby stove.

“Okay. I’ll go,” Lauren said. “But how about a kiss to tide me over until din—”

Grace’s lips were on hers before she could even finish the sentence.

Something clattered to the floor. It might have been the wooden spoon Grace had been holding. Lauren didn’t care. She wrapped both arms around Grace and pulled her closer as the kiss deepened. The fingers of her one hand came to rest against Grace’s bare upper back, and she allowed them to wander just a bit, tracing the soft skin with her fingertips.

Grace gripped Lauren’s hips with both hands, even the one in the cast, as if she needed to hold on so she wouldn’t fall. Her lips and tongue moved against Lauren’s in a slow, erotic dance. Finally, she pulled back, her hands still clutching Lauren’s blouse. “There,” she said.

Lauren had never heard her voice so husky and breathless, not even in one of her more passionate movie scenes.

“Now outside with you before I burn dinner.” Grace gave her a gentle push in the direction of the sliding glass doors.

On legs that felt slightly unsteady, Lauren stumbled out of the kitchenette and toward the stone patio. She sank onto one of the chairs and looked back through the glass doors.