Damage Control (The Hollywood Series Book 2) (6 page)

“He says you paid with a credit card registered to your birth name,” Lauren added and watched Grace’s face for any kind of reaction.

Grace stared out over the city without saying anything. After a few moments, she got up and walked toward the edge of the pool. She dipped the toes of one sandaled foot into the water as if to buy herself time to think. “What do we do now?”

Lauren followed her and stood next to her so that she could see her face. “The first thing you need to do is to stop lying to me. You can’t be caught lying. Not to the media and certainly not to me.”

“I’m not lying,” Grace said, still staring down into the rippling water.

The impulse to shove Grace into the pool gripped Lauren. Maybe that would wake her up. But, of course, she couldn’t do that. “You sure as hell didn’t tell me the truth either. What happened with Jill Corrigan? It was Jill with you in that hotel, wasn’t it?”

Stan hadn’t mentioned the other actress’s name, but he’d implied that the
Tinseltown Talk
article was true.

“That’s none of your business,” Grace said, her voice carefully controlled, no anger leaking through.

“None of my business?” Lauren shook her head. “Your public image is my responsibility. If you don’t give me the information I need to do my job, I can’t keep working with you.”

Slowly, Grace turned toward her. “You want to drop me as a client?”

“No. I don’t want to.” God knows, Marlene would kill her if she did. “But I will if you constantly keep me in the dark. We’ve been broadsided by this because you didn’t trust me.”

“How can I trust you? I hardly know you.” Grace’s Hollywood mask wavered a little. Her eyes, bluer than the water of the pool, reflected so much vulnerability that Lauren was speechless for a few moments.

Lauren understood. There were no friends and no secrets in the showbiz jungle. If you trusted someone with your secrets, it was entirely possible that you could read about it in the tabloids the very next day. “I know you don’t. But you know my reputation. I want to make partner or even run my own PR firm one day. What do you think would happen if I broke the confidentiality clause in my contract?”

“No one would ever hire you again,” Grace said.

“Exactly. I might not be an actress, but image is everything in my profession too. If I did anything that harmed my reputation, it’d be game over for me. So it’s in my own best interest to protect your secrets.”

Grace sighed. “I believe you, but…it’s not my secret to tell.”

Lauren studied her.
She’s protecting someone.
One person came to mind immediately.
Jill Corrigan.
“Is Jill gay?”

“I can’t tell you.”

Her stubborn refusal to tell her the truth made Lauren grit her teeth, but at the same time, she couldn’t help admiring her loyalty. In Hollywood, that was rarer than a fifty-carat diamond. “Grace, I need the facts so I can put together a strategy for how to deal with the media.”

“No, I mean, I can’t tell you because I don’t know. I don’t think she is, but we never talked about it. All you and everyone else need to know is that we’re not having an affair.” Grace turned abruptly and walked back to the patio table.

Again, Lauren followed her, sensing there was something Grace wasn’t telling her. They sat facing each other.

“That won’t be enough for the media,” Lauren said. “We have to give them something, or they’ll keep digging. If you don’t talk, they will find someone who will. They’ll bribe your housekeeper, your assistant, your gardener…”

“I don’t have an assistant, and my cleaning service and the company that keeps my yard up come in when I’m not here,” Grace said.

So she’d been right. Grace kept no employees around, probably because she didn’t want strangers leaking intimate details of her life to the press. Once again, Lauren wondered if there was a reason why Grace was so private. Was she hiding something? “Doesn’t matter,” she said. “They’ll snoop through your private life until they find something.”

Grace gulped audibly. She raked her fingers through her long, blonde hair.

“There is something to find, isn’t there?” There always was. Lauren had found that out early on in her life. Nothing was ever as it seemed in Hollywood. Still, she’d hoped that it would be different with Grace. She liked her, no matter how often she told herself not to be fooled by her warm, friendly facade. It was probably just that—a facade.

“Yes,” Grace whispered.

Lauren said nothing, not pressuring her. She sensed that Grace needed to say this in her own time.

“Nick and I…” Grace rubbed both hands over her mouth as if part of her wanted to hold back the words. But then she dropped her hands and looked into Lauren’s eyes. “We’re getting a divorce.”

Lauren sank against the back of her chair. She wasn’t sure what she had expected Grace to say, but certainly not that. She cursed under her breath. “And you’re only telling me this now? Christ, Grace, I need time to prepare a strategy. You can’t just spring this on me out of the blue and expect me to adjust!”

Grace lowered her gaze to the stone patio. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “I’m not trying to make things difficult for you, but like I said…”

“You don’t trust me.” Lauren sighed. Thoughts and media strategies ricocheted through her mind. “Their golden couple separating… Your fans won’t be happy. I bet they didn’t see this coming.” She sure hadn’t. Grace and Nick’s relationship had seemed to be one of the few stable ones in Hollywood. “There were never any jealousy dramas, ugly fights, or separation rumors.”

“No,” Grace said. “And there won’t be any in the future either. It’ll be an amicable divorce. No breaking dishes, no screaming, no tears.”

No passion?
Lauren wondered. “So if everything is so harmonic between you, why get divorced?”

“It’s not because either of us is having an affair, if that’s what you’re asking.” A hint of defensiveness crept into Grace’s tone.

“It’s not,” Lauren said. “I’m not trying to be nosy. But that’s the first thing the press will want to know.”

Grace curled one leg under herself on the patio chair and tugged on the hole in one knee of her jeans, making it larger. She pulled a few of the threads free and watched them being blown away by the breeze. “With both of us constantly gone, shooting three movies a year, we didn’t get to spend a lot of time together,” she said after a while. “Let’s face it, actors make lousy spouses.”

Oh yeah.
If there was one thing Lauren had learned growing up, it was this. “So there are no other people involved?”

Grace hesitated but then said, “Nick has a new girlfriend. They got together three weeks after we separated, but he swears he never cheated on me. I believe him.”

Lauren wasn’t sure she did. Sometimes, cheating seemed to be a popular hobby for celebrities. Lauren herself wasn’t exactly a by-the-book girlfriend, but she had never, ever cheated, and she would never tolerate it from a partner. She’d had to endure the sham her parents called a marriage for too long to want that kind of relationship. “The press will still call it an affair. If they find out that Nick and his flame got together while he was still married to you—”

“I don’t want the press to tear him to shreds as a cheating bastard.” Grace’s eyes glittered with determination.

“Let’s focus on you and your career and let Nick’s publicist worry about his, okay?”

Grace clearly didn’t like it, but she nodded.

“So, what about you? Is there someone new in your life too?” Lauren asked. Maybe Grace had found someone else too, and that was why she was so forgiving.

Grace shook her head. “There’s no one else.”

Either she was telling the truth, or she was an even better actress than Lauren gave her credit for. “Okay, but if there’s ever someone new in your life, I need to know before you even tell your mother or your best friend. I don’t want to be blindsided again. No more surprises. If there’s ever anything, call me immediately.”

“You’ll be the first to know,” Grace said.

Lauren couldn’t tell if she was being sincere or if there was a hint of sarcasm in her voice. She wondered if Grace ever stopped acting and was just herself. She glanced at her watch and realized it was noon already. Just twenty-four more hours until she had to give Stan something. “This couldn’t come at a worse time.”

“I know. Which is why I’m trying to keep it a secret until after the release of
Ava’s Heart
.”

Lauren nodded. It wouldn’t help promote a film with strong Christian undertones if the public found out the lead actress was getting divorced from her movie-star husband. “That’s the best strategy for now. But we still have to give
Hollywood Affairs
something.”

“Do they know who the other actress in Macon was?” Grace asked.

“Stan—the blogger—didn’t name names, but I’m sure he knows. If he thinks he can out someone, he’s like a bloodhound.”

A flush of annoyance crept into Grace’s cheeks, and Lauren realized that she again wasn’t wearing makeup. She was by far the most low-maintenance actress Lauren had ever met.

“What gives him the right to make that decision for someone?” Grace asked, a bit of heat in her voice now.

“The constitution,” Lauren said.

“Freedom of the press.” Grace’s lips compressed into a thin line. “What about my freedom? Or Jill’s?”

Lauren answered with a helpless shrug. “I know it’s not fair. I don’t like it either, but that’s the way it is, and we…you have to deal with it.”

Grace sighed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to take it out on you.” After one last tug on the by-now frayed hole in her jeans, she uncurled her long legs, shoved her chair back from the table, and got up. “I’ll talk to Jill and then get back to you with something we can tell this Stan.”

We.
For the first time, Lauren felt as if they were really working together as a team. She nodded and got up too. “I need something before noon tomorrow.”

Grace accompanied her to the door. “I’ll try my best.”

They could only hope that it would be enough. Lauren reached for the doorknob. “I’ll see you tonight, then.”

“Uh, tonight?”

“You’re still going to Russ Vinson’s handprint ceremony, aren’t you?”

Grace raised one perfect eyebrow. “You know my schedule?”

“I’m your publicist,” Lauren answered.

“So you plan to attend all of my public appearances with me from now on?”

“Wouldn’t be a bad idea. But I’d be there tonight anyway. Until then.” Lauren walked away with a short wave. Her private and her professional lives were about to collide, and—as always when that happened—she didn’t like it one bit.

CHAPTER 6

The limousine the studio had sent turned onto Hollywood Boulevard, making its way past souvenir shops and tourists strolling over the star-cemented Walk of Fame.

Frowning, Grace leaned forward and pressed the button to lower the privacy screen that separated the rear of the limo from its front. “Excuse me,” she said to the driver. “Aren’t we picking up Ms. Corrigan?” She’d tried to reach Jill all day—to no avail so far, but since she knew she would see her at Russ’s handprint ceremony, she hadn’t been too worried.

The driver looked at her in the rearview mirror. “She was on my list, but then they told me at the last minute not to drive by her house. Apparently, she won’t be able to make it.”

How weird. Jill was as focused on her career as the rest of them. She wouldn’t just skip this event, knowing the studio expected her to be there and show her support for her cast mate.

“Looks like you’ll have to make do with us,” Russ said, grinning at her and at Nick, who lounged next to Grace on the leather backseat.

The driver pulled the limo to a halt alongside the curb in front of the TCL Chinese Theatre. Paparazzi and fans instantly crowded the limo, trying to see through the dark-tinted windows to find out who had arrived. The security team struggled to keep them back but barely stood a chance against the excited crowd.

“Ready to face the hordes?” Russ asked.

Grace snapped open her compact and checked her hair and makeup.

“Don’t worry,” Nick whispered in her ear. “You look beautiful.”

No longer sure if it was a sincere compliment or just what he thought she wanted to hear, Grace simply said, “Thanks,” and nodded at Russ.

The driver got out and opened the door for them.

Nick climbed out first and reached back to offer Grace his hand.

Grace took one last deep breath and put on her screen-goddess persona everyone expected to see before she took his hand and stepped out of the limo.

Cameras clicked and flashes erupted around them, blinding Grace for a moment as the paparazzi snapped picture after picture. Dozens of voices called out her name.

“Grace! Grace, turn this way!”

“Give us a smile, Grace!”

“Look this way!”

“Over here, Grace!”

Grace turned this way and that, posing for the cameras the way they wanted, and kept smiling through it all, even though her face was starting to hurt and her strappy stilettos were already making her feet ache.

“How does it feel to have to watch Russ being immortalized this way instead of leaving your own set of handprints on Hollywood Boulevard?” one of the reporters shouted.

“It feels wonderful, thanks for asking,” she answered with the biggest smile she could manage. “I’m very proud of Russ.”

“We all are,” Nick added.

She held on to Nick’s arm with one hand and wrapped her other arm around Russ. Together, the three of them made their way toward the roped-off area in the theater’s forecourt, where hundreds of famous actors and actresses had already left their handprints and footprints in cement.

“Remind me again why we put up with this,” Nick whispered out of the corner of his mouth.

“Because we’re crazy,” Grace whispered back.

“Yeah, we established that this morning.”

They grinned at each other, and for a moment, Grace wondered why they were going through with the divorce. He was her best friend and, with the exception of Jill and her mother, the only person she trusted in this crazy town.
Because that’s not enough. He deserves more—and so do you.

Russ went ahead to where the block of wet cement was waiting for him.

“Wait up, Russ!” Nick called and followed him. “I’d better join you in case you get stuck and need me to pull you out.”

Grace stayed back, glad that she wasn’t the center of attention for once. She waved at the fans behind the barricades, who were holding up their camera phones, busily snapping away. For a moment, she didn’t pay attention to where she was stepping. Her high heel caught on something, making her stumble.

A strong hand closed around her forearm, catching her and holding on until she’d regained her balance.

Grace thought it was one of the security guards, but when she looked up, she gazed into Lauren’s eyes, which glittered like gold in the sunlight.

“Careful,” Lauren said. “I don’t want to deal with headlines like ‘Grace Durand breaks her foot on red carpet’ tomorrow morning.”

A grin formed on Grace’s lips. She marveled at how different it felt from the trained Hollywood smiles she’d given the paparazzi. “Thanks for the heartfelt concern.”

Lauren doffed a nonexistent hat.

Compared to all the actresses and celebrities around, she should have looked average at best, but to Grace, she stood out in a pleasant way. Lauren was wearing tailored trousers, sensible leather shoes, and a short-sleeved blouse that revealed toned arms. Her sunglasses were shoved up on top of her head, keeping her wind-tousled hair from being blown into her face.

Grace envied her a bit for being able to dress comfortably instead of wearing what was expected of her.

The crowd started cheering, making Grace look away from Lauren and toward Russ.

He knelt on a red velvet cushion and pressed his hands into the wet cement. Flashes went off when he stood and stepped onto the cement, leaving his footprints as well. Finally, he signed his name and the date in the corner of the concrete block.

Someone—Grace wasn’t sure whether it was one of the organizers of the event or a studio lackey—ushered her over to Russ and Nick so more photos could be taken of them posing in front of the cement block.

Russ leaned close, pretending to grab her ass with his cement-smeared hands.

Grace smiled even though she wanted to slap his hands away. She just hoped that they had more chemistry on-screen than off-screen and tried not to think about how their romantic movie,
Ava’s Heart
, would do at the box office come August. Her gaze swept the crowd in search of Lauren, and when she found her, she sent her a secret get-me-out-of-here gaze.

Lauren just shrugged and grinned.

After what felt like hours, the cement was covered to cure, and the stars and their guests relocated to the theater’s lobby for a party. By now, Grace’s feet were killing her, but she circulated through the room with an ever-present smile, exchanging chitchat with the movers and shakers of the entertainment industry. It was part of her job—not a part that she liked, but a necessary one. Being nice to the top producers and directors might pay off when it was time for them to pick the actors for their next blockbuster.

From time to time, she saw Lauren doing the rounds too. Her publicist clearly knew how to work a crowd. She shook hands and talked to all the important power players in the room.

Eventually, they both ended up in the same corner of the room. When Grace walked past Lauren to greet the director of
Ava’s Heart
at the other end of the room, she overheard a bit of Lauren’s conversation.

“What did you have to pay them to let Russ leave his prints?” Lauren asked a woman who was old enough to be her mother.

Grace blinked and stopped midstep. She didn’t disagree—there were many actors who would have deserved to have their prints on Hollywood Boulevard before Russ—but she couldn’t believe that Lauren would talk so openly to someone who clearly stood above her in the Hollywood food chain.

Then the woman shifted a little, allowing Grace to see her face more clearly.

Isn’t that Olivia Pearce?
She’d met the successful producer once at a charity fundraiser, back when Mrs. Pearce had been the president of production at Universal Pictures, one of few women to head a film studio in Hollywood.
Wait a moment! Pearce?
The woman wasn’t just old enough to be Lauren’s mother; she probably
was
her mother.

They didn’t look anything alike—Lauren had a more solid frame compared to her almost fragile-looking mother—but they both had that intense gaze.

Grace realized that Mrs. Pearce had caught her looking and turned toward her. “Good evening. It’s nice to see you again, Mrs. Pearce.”

“Olivia, please.” The producer pointed to the man next to her. “Have you met my husband, Leonard?”

Grace hadn’t yet met Leonard, but she’d heard of him, of course. He’d given up acting for the most part and had drifted into directing, but he was still very handsome. His tan looked as if he spent more time on California’s beaches than in the director’s chair.

They shook hands.

“Nice to meet you,” Leonard said. His gaze swept down, away from her eyes.

Had he just checked out her cleavage with his wife right there, watching him? Grace pulled back her hand as fast as she could without being impolite.

His wife either hadn’t noticed or didn’t care. “And this is my…our daughter, Lauren.”

“We know each other, Mom,” Lauren said. “Grace is one of my clients.”

“Lucky you,” Olivia said to Grace. “Lauren is the best publicist in the business.”

Lauren groaned. “Mom…”

Grace watched with amusement as the normally confident woman blushed.

“What? It’s true, isn’t it, Leonard? She really should go into producing.”

As much fun as it was to see Lauren squirm, Grace decided to step in before they could embarrass Lauren even more. “I hear we’ll work together next month,” she said to the director.

“We will?” Leonard blinked.

Grace nodded. “I’m guest-starring in one of the
Central Precinct
episodes you’re directing.”

“Oh, wonderful, wonderful.” He launched into a discussion of camera angles he thought worked best for a fast-paced TV show like
Central Precinct
.

Lauren and Grace peered at each other.

“You’ll have to excuse us now,” Lauren said after a minute. “Grace and I have a lot to discuss.” She gripped Grace’s elbow and led her away before either of her parents could protest.

One of the waiters circulating the room walked up to them with a tray of champagne glasses.

“Thanks.” Lauren took two of the glasses and handed one to Grace before taking a long swig. When she lowered the champagne flute, it was half empty.

Grace took the offered glass because she knew it was expected of her but just held it in her hand without drinking.

“Sorry,” Lauren said, gesturing in the direction of her parents.

Grace smiled. “No need to apologize. They’re proud of you. That’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I guess.” Lauren took another sip of champagne, not gulping it down this time. She craned her neck and scanned the crowded room. “I thought Jill Corrigan was supposed to be here.”

“I thought so too, but the studio’s driver said she couldn’t make it.”

“Missing this shindig isn’t going to earn her any points with the studio. She has to know that. What’s going on with her?”

Grace rolled the stem of the champagne flute between her fingers. “I have no idea. I couldn’t reach her all day.”

“Want me to take that for you?” Lauren asked.

Grace looked up, startled. “Uh…what?”

Lauren gestured at the glass. “Everyone else around is on their third glass, and you haven’t even taken a sip. You obviously don’t like champagne.”

I liked it a little too much.
At the last moment, Grace held herself back from saying it.
Christ, what’s wrong with you?
Just because she’d told Lauren about the divorce didn’t mean she had to spill all her secrets. “I’m just not thirsty.” She put her untouched glass on the tray of another waiter and breathed a sigh of relief as he carried it off.

Lauren looked from the bubbles in her own glass to Grace’s face. “How long has it been?”

Grace stared. She couldn’t be asking what she thought she was asking, could she?

“Since you last had a drink,” Lauren said, her voice so low that no one else around could hear.

Only years of practice kept Grace’s smile from faltering.
Damn.
Was it that obvious, or was her new publicist just too observant for her own good?

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” Lauren looked around. “Want to get out of here and see if we can reach Jill?”

Grace nodded.

It took them fifteen minutes to make it to the door because people kept stopping one or both of them to talk.

Grace detoured toward Nick, who was demonstrating what was either a dance move or a stunt choreography to a captive audience.

When he saw her coming, he stopped and wrapped his arms around her, drawing her near so no one could overhear them. “You okay?”

“Yes. I’m leaving.”

Nick’s brows bunched together. “Already? It’s barely ten.”

“I know. I want to look in on Jill.”

“You think something’s wrong with her?” Nick asked.

Grace hesitated but then said, “No, I’m sure she’s fine.” She leaned up on her tiptoes and kissed him good-bye, wondering when the butterflies had stopped swarming and her body had stopped reacting to his closeness. All she felt was warm affection.

She waved at Russ and then returned to Lauren’s side.

“You’re a good actress,” Lauren whispered as they reached the door. “That was very convincing.”

For a moment, Grace looked at her, not sure what Lauren was talking about. Then she understood. “That wasn’t an act. I really love Nick.”

“You’re just not in love with him,” Lauren said quietly.

Grace didn’t answer. Followed by Lauren, she left the building.

It had gotten dark outside, and the temperature had dropped, so it was a little chilly now.

Genius.
Grace realized she’d brought neither a jacket nor a car.

Camera flashes lit up the night sky around her.

Grace was tempted to try to escape or at least turn away, but she knew it wouldn’t do her any good. They would just keep following her. If she posed and smiled for them, letting them get the shots they wanted, they’d leave her in peace afterward. At least she hoped they would.

“Why are you leaving alone?” one of the reporters shouted. “Where’s Nick?”

Of course the paparazzi had noticed. As casually as possible, Grace pointed over her shoulder. “Still inside. Boy talk with Russ. But for me, business is calling. I have some things to go over with my publicist.” She pointed at Lauren. It couldn’t hurt to let them know who Lauren was. Otherwise, they might run a photo of them with the caption: Grace Durand leaving the party with an unidentified woman.

Fans hurried over, handing her autograph books, postcards, scraps of paper, and even napkins to sign.

Two studio bodyguards rushed forward, trying to stop the fans from approaching Grace, but she waved them away. Even though she was impatient to finally get away and check on Jill, she tried to smile while she signed her name over and over until her hand started to cramp.