Hollywood Hills (20 page)

“Oh,” Holly replied lightly. “I’m sure our table will understand if we desert them.”

Within seconds, Seamus was leading Alexa and Holly through the crowds toward a table marked
GUESS WHO’S COMING TO DINNER
? Alexa noted that Jonah wasn’t one of the groomsmen present—he was seated with the Eklundstroms and Paul’s family at a long table marked the godfather. Seamus introduced the girls to the spiky-haired Buzzkill Smith, a fellow groomsman who was a music video director, and Buzzkill’s girlfriend, Sugar, the redheaded soap opera actress who’d been Margaux’s maid of honor.

Just then, Belle Runningwater appeared tableside, looking ravishing in a long violet Bodarte gown, and excitedly greeted Holly. As the two of them caught up, Seamus got into a heated debate with Buzzkill over which comic book hero would make for the best movie adaptation, so Alexa was left to make small talk with Sugar, who seemed even flakier than Margaux.

“You know, you could almost be an actress,” Sugar was saying to Alexa as the waiters came around to serve bowls of chilled watermelon and blueberry soup. “You have that…air about you. Don’t you think? I could put you in touch with my agent.”

“Thanks, Sugar, but I’m kind of busy now,” Alexa
replied, digging into her soup and barely processing the fact that she had, in a sense, just been discovered. “I’m starting college, and to be honest, I find the moviemaking process kind of…funny sometimes.”

“Funny?” Sugar echoed, clearly confounded, and Alexa noticed Seamus, who was sitting across from her, watching her with a smile on his lips. She was wishing that he would swap places with Sugar so she and he could talk, but then there was a sudden twang of guitars from the stage.

“Check it out, it’s Blue Dog Babylon—these guys are phenomenal,” Seamus told Buzzkill, gesturing toward the stage. “Jonah and I found them on Myspace and then heard them play at a club in Silver Lake.”

Alexa glanced up to see the band: four hot young guys, decked out in tuxes but wearing battered Converses on their feet. “Hey,” the lead singer, who had curly brown hair and big brown eyes, said into the microphone. “We’re so psyched to be playing here tonight…”

Alexa set down her spoon, struck by a sense of recognition. She turned to Holly, whose face was already crimson. “Hol, isn’t that—” Alexa began as Sugar glanced from one girl to the next in confusion.

“Zach,” Holly managed, looking back at the stage in wonder. So it
had
been him she’d seen yesterday with Margaux and Jonah. Of course.
My band, Blue
Dog Babylon
, he’d told her that day on Zuma Beach. What were the chances? Holly felt a wave of shock wash over her that recalled the cool ocean waves against her skin. It seemed like it had been only moments ago that she’d pulled him from the water, but yet there he was, alive and well onstage.

First Seamus, and now Surfer Boy
, Alexa thought dazedly as Zach said something into the mike that made everyone laugh. “Are we in some freaky alternate universe?” Alexa whispered into Holly’s ear.

Holly grinned, her eyes on Zach. She remembered the feeling she’d had earlier, that she and Alexa were entering into a fairy tale. “Yes, and it’s called Hollywood,” she whispered back.

“Please give a great big welcome to Mr. and Mrs. Paul DeMille!” Zach was calling into the mike, lifting his arms above his head and grinning in a way that made Holly melt a little. “And as my grandpa would say, ‘Mazel tov!’ ” Thunderous applause greeted Margaux and Paul as they flitted onto the dance floor in a black-and-fuchsia blur, and Blue Dog Babylon struck up a raucous, punk-rock version of The Ronettes’ “Be My Baby.” Holly cupped her chin in her hands, forgetting her soup as she watched Margaux and Paul move across the floor in perfect tandem, and listened to Zach’s rich, strong vocals. His voice was
confident but not showy, with just enough scratchiness to sound badass.

When the waiters had cleared away the soup, Belle returned to the wedding-party table—she was stranded over at casablanca with Charity Durst and her cronies—to summon Holly onto the dance floor. The band had started playing a new song—something about surfing blues—and Margaux and Paul were swallowed up by a blur of beaded minidresses and black tuxes.

“I’ve seen how you can shake it,” Belle said, her black eyes flashing as she pulled Holly to her feet. Holly felt a knot of nervousness; what if Zach saw her from the stage? Would it be weird? Though she supposed she
could
try to accept his thanks and not act like a freak this time. She blew Alexa a kiss as Belle led her out onto the dance floor.

A second later, Sugar and Buzzkill got up to dance as well, and the rest of the wedding party followed suit, until only Seamus and Alexa were left at guess who’s coming to dinner?, facing each other across the black rose petals and wineglasses. Alexa could almost hear her pulse tapping in her throat.

“So.” Seamus gave her a teasing half smile. “You’ve clearly got a talent for photography, but how are your moves on the dance floor?”

Alexa tried to glare at him, but then she broke into laughter, realizing how Seamus’s compliments always gave her a little thrill. “I’m awful,” she joked. “And I’ve got on dangerous heels, so I’m a real threat.”

“I’ll take my chances.” Seamus pushed back his chair and stood, extending one hand toward Alexa. “Shall we dance?”

The old-fashioned way Seamus posed the question made Alexa’s heart flutter. She accepted his hand—which caused more fluttering—as he led her onto the crowded dance floor. It was strange; there was still the same mocking, barbed vibe between the two of them, but Alexa sensed something else simmering beneath the surface—a deeper emotion that might have been there all along, if Alexa had only opened her eyes.

Closing her eyes, Alexa rested her head against Seamus’s shoulder as he put one hand on her waist and moved with her across the floor, his steps confident. She could feel his heart beating rather quickly through his silk vest, and that made her knees go kind of wobbly. Blue Dog Babylon was playing a slow, sweet song, with lyrics about finding love where you least expect it.

“You lied,” Seamus said after a minute, and Alexa felt the vibration of his chest as he spoke. “You’re not an awful dancer at all.”

“No,
you
lied,” Alexa shot back, opening her eyes and pulling away slightly, but Seamus kept a steady hold on her waist, his eyes sparkling. “Or, at least, you kept the truth from me. How can I ever trust you again?” Her tone was light; Alexa knew she
could
trust Seamus—with everything. How had she never before noticed his insight, his thoughtfulness?

“My apologies.” Seamus leaned Alexa backward in a dip, and she couldn’t help but laugh at the dramatic gesture. When he brought Alexa back up, he grinned and added, “But fine, fair enough. Feel free to ask me anything you want about myself and my secret, evil motives.”

Alexa stared up into his hazel eyes, overcome by how much she suddenly wanted to know about Seamus Kerr.
What’s your favorite book? Are you an only child? Have you ever been to Paris? Why is that you can get a rise out of me when nobody else can?
Her tongue quivered with the desire to speak these questions, to find out about the boy she was dancing with. Alexa wasn’t sure she’d ever been so curious about another person.

“Here’s a question,” Alexa finally said, coming to her senses. “If you and Jonah are so buddy-buddy, why weren’t you at the Standard party on Tuesday night?”
And more important, did he tell you about me?
she wanted to add, but she held back.

Seamus paused in their dancing, and reached into
his jacket pocket to pull out his cell phone. Flipping it open, he revealed a picture of the most adorable baby boy Alexa had ever seen. “My nephew,” Seamus explained with a crooked grin. “My sister, who lives near my parents in La Brea, just had her first kid, so I was doing a lot of family stuff this week—even watching my nephew some nights to give my a sister a break. I was bummed to miss Jonah’s party, but, as you can see, this little guy is sort of hard to resist.”

So are you
, Alexa thought before she could stop herself. Guys who were good with kids never failed to make her melt. Alexa was about to ask Seamus more about his nephew, when someone touched her arm. Turning around, Alexa saw the petite, dark-haired Paz Ferrara, wearing her trademark thigh-high boots with a short red dress cinched in the middle with a fat satin ribbon. “Gail’s daughter,
si
?” Paz asked, grinning up at Alexa as if she hadn’t totally ditched her at Gail’s party on Monday. “I did
not
know you knew the Eklundstroms,” Paz added, her eyes wide.

Alexa brushed at her glossy new bangs, relishing her new hairdo as she returned Paz’s smile. “Oh, Margaux and I go
way
back,” she sighed, feeling Seamus’s amused gaze on her. “Her dress is to die for, by the way,” she added truthfully—that, she couldn’t deny.

“Thank you!” Paz bubbled, giving Alexa an approving once-over. “You have—how you say?—a good
eye. Your mother, she told me you are an excellent photographer and that you will be interning at
Vogue.
Would you have interest to work with the photographer who will be shooting my line?”

Alexa felt the warmth of excitement race through her. She hadn’t even dared hope for an opportunity like that this summer. “I—I’d love to,” she stammered. And what warmed Alexa even deeper than Paz’s offer was the knowledge that her mom had recommended her as a photographer. She couldn’t wait to tell Holly.

“I will talk to Anna,” Paz said, referring to
Vogue
’s famous editor-in-chief, as she walked off, waggling her fingers at Alexa. “
Ciao, querida.
”

Alexa turned back to Seamus, knowing her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were shining. Seamus’s eyes were shining, too, as he looked at her. “That’s so cool, Alexa,” he said softly, his voice full of admiration, and Alexa was suddenly grateful that he had been there to hear the news. “I
knew
you had to be a good photographer from the moment you took that picture in the car in Vegas.”

Alexa shook her head, bewildered by Seamus’s confession. “Seamus, I thought you couldn’t stand me on our road trip. I thought it was Holly you preferred.”

“I like Holly,” Seamus said, and Alexa felt his arms
draw her in closer. “But I’m not dancing with her now, am I?” Alexa was holding her breath, barely able to believe what Seamus had said, when suddenly he glanced over her shoulder and his face broke into a grin. “If it isn’t our resident Oscar winner-slash-heartthrob,” Seamus called with a wave, and Alexa’s stomach dropped.

“Shay! Haven’t seen you all night.” Jonah came forward and gave Seamus the typical boy-hug: a couple of fast slaps on the back and a vigorous handshake. “Can you believe Margaux’s old and married?”

As the two friends bantered, Alexa glanced from one boy to the other. Jonah was still outlandishly gorgeous, but he was lacking the fire—the energy—that made Seamus who he was. Now Alexa could see why Jonah didn’t give her butterflies. Seamus was neither a celebrity nor a hot French painter…he was just a New York writer-guy. But studying him now, Alexa felt an unmistakable pulsing in her belly. It was
him
she couldn’t take her eyes off—not the movie star.

Jonah was in the midst of telling Seamus something about
The Princess and the Slacker
when he glanced in Alexa’s direction—and went bug-eyed. “Alexa, I didn’t recognize you!” he exclaimed. “You changed your…” He reached out, as if to touch Alexa’s hair, then seemed to think the better of it.
From the way his brow furrowed, Alexa could tell that Jonah wasn’t loving her new cut, and for some reason, that made her want to laugh.
Of course.
Someone like Jonah
would
prefer girls who had traditionally long hair; it took a guy with more edge, and more imagination—a guy like Seamus—to see why a different style might work.

Alexa nodded at Jonah, and any tension she might have felt around him began to fade. It seemed like ages ago that they’d kissed on the rooftop and in the hot tub; so much had happened between then and now, including the haircut. Alexa knew that Jonah
had
cared for her—at least, in his actor-y way—but she sensed that he was letting go of those romantic feelings, even as they stood there together. Maybe it was her hair.

Jonah looked from Alexa to Seamus and back again. “You guys know each other?” he asked, and though there was a note of jealousy in his voice, Alexa sensed that Jonah was pleased to see his friends mingling together. He certainly wasn’t going to call Seamus a traitor, or insist that he take his hands off Alexa. As much as Alexa secretly wished she’d be the catalyst for some nineteenth-century-type duel, she had to concede that the festive, sparkling party energy was keeping everyone in good spirits.

“Yeah, we just met,” Alexa spoke, meeting Seamus’s
knowing gaze. In a way, it felt as if they had—as if tonight was the way they should have met all along.

Jonah nodded, then put his hand on Alexa’s arm; to her relief, the gesture felt more friendly than anything. “Seamus is a great guy,” he said, smiling at her, and Alexa smiled back, knowing Jonah was right, and knowing that, in his way, he’d given her his blessing.

Either that, or the actor was spacey enough to miss out on the total chemistry between Alexa and his friend.

As Jonah made his way back into the teeming crowd, Alexa watched him go, feeling a sense of closure. When Seamus took her hand and pulled her near once more, she breathed in his aftershave—a heady bay-rum scent—and they started slow-dancing again. Blue Dog Babylon was playing a fast song, but neither she nor Seamus seemed to care.

“Hmm,” Seamus said into her ear. “I didn’t know Jonah was so taken with you.”

“Not anymore,” Alexa protested, feeling the laugh build in her throat. “I don’t think he likes my hair.”

“Really?” Seamus raised one eyebrow, and then, as Alexa’s skin tingled, he ran his fingers through her bobbed locks. “I’m a fan. Very sophisticated. Then again, it’s not how you look that captivates me.”

Alexa felt her head swimming, her heart bursting.
“It’s not?” She slipped her arms around Seamus’s neck to keep herself steady.