Her Texas Rescue Doctor (11 page)

Sophia could have phrased her request a little differently.
Hey, Gracie, when you're done eating, could you do me a favor and bring me my iPad?
Grace probably still would've gotten her the iPad immediately, but at least she wouldn't have looked like she was...inferior.

Subservient. Inferior.

She couldn't eat another bite.

“Martina will be here in a minute,” Sophia said without taking her eyes off her screen. “Do we have any vodka?”

That snapped Grace out of her funk. She pulled her phone out of the back pocket of her jeans to check for messages from the publicist. “Martina's in town? She didn't call me to set up a meeting. What's this about?”

“Deezee. She'll make him straighten up.”

Grace was stunned into silence. The publicist could spin a lot of mistakes, but not this. Deezee had been caught in a hotel with another woman. The damage had been done.

Grace knelt down to her sister's level. “Why?”

“She's coming because I called her.”

Sophia had to know that wasn't what she'd been asking, but Grace didn't know how to start a real conversation with her anymore. At any rate, it would be wise to have Martina write some kind of statement for the press announcing that Sophia and Deezee were no longer a couple. But...

“Did Martina know he was going to be caught? Did she arrange it?”

“Are you crazy? This makes Deezee look bad. This makes me look bad.”

“How else could she get here so soon from California?”

“She's in town for that South-by thing. There's a lot of people here.”

Grace knew that
people
meant people who had power in the entertainment industry.
I told you it was a big event, but you didn't believe me.

“So do we have vodka or what?”

Grace didn't look at Alex. She knew her cheeks were hot with embarrassment. “I don't know, Sophia. This isn't our house. Don't you think we ought to meet Martina at a restaurant or something?”

“No.” Sophia was indignant, but at least she looked up from her screen. “For the amount of money we're paying her, she ought to come to me.”

“Yes, but you can't host someone in a house that doesn't belong to you. Alex might want to use his own house for something this morning. We might be in his way.”

“I've got a cast on, for God's sake. I'm not going anywhere. I don't want to be photographed like this.” She looked up from her phone to fix teary eyes on Grace. “Besides, it really hurts to walk, even with the boot on.”

It was no use. Sophia had too many points to back up her obstinacy, and it was Grace who had to be flexible. She turned to Alex, forced to apologize for Sophia. “I'm so sorry about this. It's just one woman coming to talk business with Sophia, and she's already on her way. We'll try to keep it short. I didn't mean to invade your house on your day off.”

Alex looked at her with those blue eyes for a long moment. “I know you didn't.”

“Vodka,” Sophia said.

I cannot believe I'm having to ask this.

“And do you happen to have any vodka on hand?”

Alex walked right past her and stood over Sophia. “I'm not serving you vodka. You're on pain medicine and antibiotics. Neither one goes well with alcohol.”

Sophia tossed her hair back and looked up at him. “It's not for me. It's for my publicist. That's her trademark. She always has a vodka and tonic when she takes a meeting. And yes, before you say it, I know it's only nine in the morning. That's what makes it a memorable trademark.”

Alex ran his hand over his bearded jaw in a move that looked like he was trying to restrain himself. Grace held her breath, afraid of the showdown that was surely coming.

Sophia capitulated. “You know what? We're not in public, so it's not like anyone will see her. Don't worry about the vodka.”

“Thanks.”

Grace could taste the sarcasm dripping from that one word. Alex turned his back on Sophia. Grace thought he was headed for her, but he only passed her on the way to the master bedroom.

“I'll be in the shower,” he muttered.

The bedroom door slammed before she could offer to clear her things out of his way. Quickly, she pictured how she'd left the bedroom. She'd left it neat enough, only her white pajamas lying across the bed. That shouldn't aggravate him any more than he already was.

Her tote bag was under the coffee table. She retrieved her notepad just as the doorbell rang.

“Get that.”

Grace straightened abruptly.
Did you think I expected you to jump off the couch and hobble over there yourself?

But she swallowed the sarcastic question. Maybe Alex could get away with it, but she never could. There was no sense in confronting Sophia, anyway. Once the Deezee effect wore off, her sister would stop being so rude and bossy.

The phase was over. It just didn't feel like it yet. But if Sophia didn't change her attitude soon, there would no longer be a question of whether or not Alex had a chance with her. Judging by this morning's exchange, it was Sophia who wouldn't have a chance with Alex.

What kind of sister would feel so hopeful about that?

Chapter Eleven

“W
hat do you mean, he isn't going to apologize? He has to apologize.”

Sophia's tantrum was directed at her publicist, but it was loud enough that Grace feared Alex could hear it through the walls and over the sound of running water in his shower.

“Don't yell at Martina.” The words were out before Grace thought. Of course, Sophia would now do the opposite. It was rapidly becoming clear that Sophia was acting more like Deezee than ever, now that he'd cheated on her. Grace was baffled.

On cue, Sophia shouted, “I'll speak however I goddamned please.”

Martina pointed at Sophia with her stylus. “Not when you are anywhere that anyone could possibly hit the record button on their cell phone. Your boyfriend could never get that through his thick head, and I'm washing my hands of him. You, I expect more from.”

“You're firing Deezee?” Sophia was so aghast, she only seemed to have enough air to whisper.

“I fired him this morning. I don't keep clients that refuse my advice.”

Sophia sat up a little straighter and set her phone aside.

Grace tried to keep a neutral expression on her face, a poker face like Alex, hoping no one could see how irritated she was with Martina's tactics. The publicist's ability to intimidate Sophia was useful, in its way. She'd kept Sophia from completely committing career suicide several times during the past three months, but Grace still didn't trust Martina.

Martina was the reason that Sophia had met Deezee this winter. Sophia and Grace had taken a week off in Telluride, a ski resort centered on a tiny Colorado mining town that was a haven for billionaires and A-list celebrities, one of whom had hired DJ Deezee Kalm to set up a rave in an old warehouse. Grace hadn't been enthralled by the neon lights and electronic dance music, so she'd stayed off the dance floor. So had Martina.

Within half an hour, Martina had found out for whom Grace was a personal assistant. The rest was history. Martina had introduced Sophia to the DJ that night, while he was in all his glory, standing on a stage and controlling a crowd with music. Martina had arranged for them to have an intimate lunch for two the next day in an excruciatingly expensive man-made snow cave. It had been money well spent. Now Martina was Sophia Jackson's publicist, as well.

That was Hollywood. Considering the way Grace had been befriended for an introduction and Deezee had practically been prostituted in order to achieve that goal, being Hollywood was awfully close to being Machiavellian.

“Couldn't you have released his apology before you fired him?” Sophia asked.

“Darling, when I fire a man, I refuse to spend another moment on him.”

Grace wanted to set the record straight. As his publicist, Martina couldn't have fired Deezee: she was his employee. Martina might have decided not to work for him anymore, but that was
quitting
, and she'd quit when her client needed her most.

The
firing
verbiage worked on Sophia, though. She was blinded by the way Martina conducted herself, unable to see that it was Sophia's money, therefore it was Sophia's power. That was Hollywood, too.

“So what are we going to do?” When she didn't know she was the boss, Sophia pouted and whined like a child to get her way. “I don't wanna look like a loser. Everyone is laughing at me.”

Thank goodness Alex wasn't in the room to hear this. Whiney Sophia wasn't necessarily preferable to Bossy Sophia.

“We will do nothing,” Martina said. “Rumors die more quickly when you don't respond.”

“I have to say nothing?” Sophia sounded like a kid saying
I have to eat broccoli?
“It's not a rumor when there are photos.”

The sound of water running in the shower stopped. If they didn't get a plan together and conclude this meeting, Alex was going to witness everything. Despite the modern feel of his house, the 1930s floor plan had been preserved, and houses hadn't been built very large in the 1930s. The kitchen was separated from them by a wall, but there was a pass-through to the little dining area, which connected to this living room. He'd have to share this space with them, unless he stayed in the bathroom for a very, very long while.

Sophia took up the entire couch to keep her cast boot elevated, of course. Martina had enthroned herself in the large armchair. That left Grace to use one of the little dinette chairs. She'd carried it over to the couch, so she could sit next to Sophia. She ought to bring one over for Alex soon. She didn't think he was a man who'd hide in his own bedroom.

“We have to come up with something for me to say,” Sophia said. “Have you read the comments on the photos? Everyone is wondering how bad I must be in bed if Deezee would cheat on someone who looks like me with someone who looks like her. Fix this.”

Martina, her dark red lips forming a displeased line at receiving an order, clipped her stylus to her tablet.

Sophia froze, not even daring to cough, clearly afraid Martina was about to fire her. Grace held her breath, too, but she felt something closer to hope than fear. Sophia didn't seem to be actually sad about losing Deezee, and if they could lose Martina, as well...

“After all, you're the best publicist in the industry.” Sophia spoke the hyperbole meekly, then lapsed into her anxious silence.

With her audience suitably subdued, Martina spoke. “We can release a statement. You'll say that of course you've seen the photos, but they don't concern you. It was never serious between you and Deezee.”

Grace's patience ran out. She didn't want to be abusing Alex's hospitality with this meeting. She didn't want Alex to hear her sister whining. Most of all, she didn't want to stay silent while Martina gave her sister bad advice in return for good money.

“No one will believe it was never serious,” Grace said. “Sophia and Deezee were photographed kissing at the beach the day before yesterday. You made sure of it.”

Sophia looked at her like she was a table lamp that had suddenly offered an opinion.

Remember when you used to ask my opinion on everything, Sophia?

Sophia reached for Grace's arm. “Remind me. Which outlets showed those beach photos?”

Grace kept a list on her own tablet device, of course, along with screen shots whenever she spotted her sister on gossip blogs and entertainment media. With Martina glaring daggers at her, Grace dropped her gaze to her tote bag, which was still sitting under the coffee table. She'd have to literally bow down before Sophia and Martina to reach it and retrieve her tablet.

She heard the bedroom door open. Alex would walk in as she was crawling.
Subservient. Inferior.

She made no move toward her tote bag. Instead, she looked back at Martina, and hoped her poker face wasn't as nonexistent as Alex had said it was. “Let's look at your list of the media outlets you were successful with.”

After a long moment, Martina unclipped her stylus once more. “Of course. This is what I'm here for.”

This is what we pay you for.

Sophia gave Grace a little pat, then slowly rolled her booted foot from left to right as she listened to Martina's list. Grace watched the motion with pleasure; that pat had felt like sisterly approval.

Alex must have passed behind her on his way to the kitchen, for she heard the sound of a drawer opening, the rattle of silverware. She guessed he was putting away the breakfast dishes.

“Obviously, then, everyone knows we were serious. Pretending we weren't won't fix this.” Sophia sounded more like the pre-Deezee version of herself. No whining, thank goodness.

“I'll come up with a way for you to get the most mileage out of this bad publicity.” Martina tapped her stylus on her tablet at the same rapid pace that she tapped her spiked heel on the polished concrete floor.

We didn't need anyone to handle bad publicity until you brought bad publicity into our lives.

The kitchen sounds had stopped. Grace peeked over her shoulder. Alex was sitting down at the dinette table with his back to them, intent on a newspaper. He was being so polite, giving them a sense of privacy, but he had to be able to hear every word.

Martina's stylus and her heel both went still. “The mystery is this trip to Texas. You're dropping out of the public eye for a week. Why? We can spin it so that you left Hollywood to visit a hot new lover in Texas. You abandoned Deezee, you see. You left first. If you'd already found another man
before
last night, then this girl becomes nothing more than his rebound girl. She's a consolation prize, or a woman Deezee was only using to assuage the pain of
his
broken heart.”

“And she's so hideous, the fact that he went from someone like me to someone like her will make him look desperate.”

Grace cringed. When she and Alex had talked on that bench yesterday, she'd bragged about her sister's lack of snobbery.

“What do you think, Grace?”

Her sister was actually asking for her input. It felt like it had been years instead of months since she'd been treated like a part of her sister's team instead of her sister's errand girl.

Martina steamrolled over Grace's chance to offer her opinion. “It's the best option. You stay hidden, and I'll let it be known that you are not to be expected to attend any South-by events, because you're on something of a honeymoon with your new man.”

Grace glanced at Alex's back again. Had he heard Sophia ask for her advice? She wanted him to believe what she'd told him yesterday, that her sister was a good person and a hard worker who deserved her success—and who deserved Grace's loyalty.

“I think a fake boyfriend is a dangerous idea.” Grace scooted her chair so that she was facing Sophia more squarely. “You know what they say. If there's no photo, it didn't happen. Eventually, when no photos of a mystery man in Texas surface, you'll end up looking desperate, so desperate that you made up a fake boyfriend. Don't risk it. Your reputation always was that you're smart and mature.”

“Was?” Only Sophia could put so many nuances of emotion in that one syllable.

“That's why it caused a sensation when you started dating Deezee. He wasn't the kind of guy people expected Sophia Jackson to date.”

“It was a brilliant move,” Martina said. “It got you tons of exposure.”

It was time for Grace to do some steamrolling herself. “Dating him changed your public image, but not for the better. If the industry is already less confident that you are the smart and mature actress they thought you were, then imagine what will happen to you if word gets out that you made up a whole fake boyfriend scenario. Professionally, it could be a disaster.”

Sophia looked from her to Martina. “Grace is right.”

Grace is right.

Grace's hands were shaking again. Thanks to Alex's pancakes, she knew it wasn't low blood sugar. It was sheer relief. She'd just fought for her sister's career against an experienced publicist, and she'd won. She sat back, sagging in relief as much as she could in a hard chair.

Martina stood and began pacing. “Then we need to arrange for you to be seen. That hideous boot comes off in a week, correct?”

“I'll still have to wear an ankle wrap.” Sophia shot a look at Alex's back. “And the doctor says no high heels for two more weeks after that.”

Martina checked her tablet without slowing her steps. “There's a black-tie event put on by a few oh-so-worthy causes toward the end of South-by. A charity gala. Tell your stylist you need one of those hems that puddles on the ground, so no one will see you're wearing flats.”

Grace picked up her trusty notebook. It was time to make a list and get this meeting adjourned, so Alex wouldn't have to politely ignore people in his own house any longer.

“I'll contact the stylist,” she said. “The messaging is everything. We need a gown that a smart and mature woman would wear who wasn't pining after a cheating boyfriend. It shouldn't look desperate, like she's trying too hard. Something that says she's confident being out in public alone.”

“Alone?” Sophia and Martina both looked at her like she was a bizarre talking table lamp again.

“She needs to be seen with a new man, so it's not just a rumor,” Martina said. “She'll be a surprise celebrity at the event, and she'll have a surprise boyfriend on her arm. This will solve the mystery of why she's disappeared in Texas. The press will eat it up.”

“What man do you have in mind?” Sophia asked. “Is there anyone still in the closet who'd like to appear devoted to me?”

Grace didn't dare turn around to see Alex's reaction to that. She spoke as quietly as she could to her sister. “I thought you said I was right about avoiding the fake boyfriend?”

“You were right that rumors about a fake boyfriend weren't enough. We need an actual man for photos, someone who is here in Texas to justify why I flew down in the first place,
before
Deezee cheated on me.”

Martina gestured toward the flat-screen television, as if she could bring its black, powered-off screen to life with a dramatic flourish of her hands. “I can see the gossip shows now. ‘Sophia Jackson has a secret rendezvous in Austin.' A classy gown, a handsome mystery man. It will sink Deezee and his tawdry hotel girl. Sink him.”

She was totally focused on defeating the man who'd once been her most famous client. He'd only been a stepping stone to Sophia.

Grace gave up trying to look bold. “Deezee is going to be angry. He's unpredictable when he's angry.”

Sophia dropped her head back on the couch, looking tired. “Well, then, we need someone brave enough to weather his crap. Better yet, we need someone who won't care if Deezee goes on a rant about him.”

Grace doodled in a corner of her notebook. “Someone with no reputation left to save? I don't think you should be paired with another loose cannon.”