Movie Lovers (4 page)

“Oh. When I first met you. Yeah. I was
kinda
dumb, wasn’t I? I’m sorry. No hard feelings.”

Bobby put the car in gear and pulled
out of the driveway.

“Let’s kiss and make up.” Jake
pulled her to him roughly and planted his lips on hers. Grace froze, letting
Jake explore her mouth.
Even drunk, he
can kiss.
In a minute, she regained her senses and pushed away, hugging the
other side of the car.

“See. There you go. Not liking me
again.” He slapped his leg.

“I let you kiss me. What more do you
want?”

He laughed. “You’re kidding, right?
You…in that dress? And you ask me what more do I want? I want it all, baby. I
want you.”

Grace noticed Bobby glancing at them
in the rearview mirror. She was comforted by his presence.
Thank God he sees what’s going on.

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to
attack you. Hell, I’ve wanted plenty of women I couldn’t have. No biggie.”

She let out a breath and relaxed
back against the seat. “Best news I’ve had all night.”

“Ouch! You sure know how to hurt a
guy.”

“And you’re still attracted to me?”

“Baby, you’ve no idea.” They sat in
silence, both staring out their own windows for fifteen minutes, until Grace sensed
the heat of his stare and turned to face him.

“You’re lovely, really…lovely.” His
eyes looked like pools of melted caramel. His gaze traveled over her body,
lingering on her chest. “Who wouldn’t want to make love to you?” He whispered.

He inched closer to her on the seat.
She was drawn to the warm look in his eyes. He reached out to cup her cheek
with his hand. “You were upset. Something bad happened to you tonight. But you
won’t tell me. Why won’t you tell me?”

The softness of his tone wreaked
havoc with the thick wall she had built around herself. Gracie wanted nothing
more than to get lost in the arms of a caring man and cry about what happened.
She longed to confess her mistake and humiliation, to mourn the rejection of
her script. But Jake had had too much to drink. And he had put her down before
he saw her dressed up. Wounded her, perhaps unintentionally, but even an error
in judgment still hurt.

She remembered how it stung when he
treated her like the ugly duckling. Always second to her amazing sister, his
put down was magnified by years of being only second best. And the attentions
of a drunken man, to be forgotten the next day…or worse,
rued
the next day, only made her wary. She didn’t believe he wanted
her. He wanted a woman, and she was there.

Jake was right up against her,
nibbling her neck. Grace took a deep breath, bracing her hands against his
strong chest. “You’re so beautiful.” He raised his palm to her breast and
closed his fingers around the soft flesh. “I bet these taste as good as they
look.” He lowered his head.

“Keep your hands to yourself.” Grace
pushed him away so hard he fell back against the door on the other side.
Stunned, he could only stare at her.

“Grace? Are you all right?” Bobby
asked, his concerned frown reflected in the rearview mirror.

“Fine. Thanks, Bobby. I’m fine.”

The questioning look in Jake’s eyes
made her want to laugh. “Don’t get turned down much, do you?”

Bobby eased the vehicle off the
Westside Highway and onto 79
^th
Street. When he pulled up in front of
her building, Jake insisted on getting out and holding the door for her. By now,
the ride home had worked on Jake’s belly, filled only with alcohol. She saw his
face pale.

“Excuse me,” he said, rushing over
to the hedges on the side of The Stanford and bending over. The sound of him
retching made her stomach turn. Jake stood up and wiped his mouth with his
handkerchief.

“I’m sorry, Grace.”

“I’ll bet. The perfect ending to a
perfect date.” She gave a little laugh then a courtesy. Spike, the night doorman,
scowling at Jake, held the door open.

“Can I call you?”

“Why don’t you save yourself the
trouble?” Gracie hurried into the elevator as the tears she’d been holding back
broke through her defenses. When she arrived at the apartment, she went in
quietly and headed straight to her room.

“Just a minute,
Pookie
,”
Cara appeared from the darkness. “How was the premiere, and your date with
Jake?”

“Total bust,” she said, shortly.
“I’m tired. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Was it that bad?” Cara’s brow
furrowed.

“I said I don’t want to talk about
it.” Grace went into her room, and turned the lock.
She’s not responsible.

“Goodnight to you, too,” Cara called
in through the closed door.

Grace toed off her shoes, unzipped
her dress, and threw herself down on the bed, sobbing. In a few minutes, she
dragged herself up to finish undressing. Turning out the light, she slipped
between the sheets and pulled up the down quilt against the chilly air. She
couldn’t get Gunther, Elsa, and Jake out of her mind.

Don’t
get mad, get even.
As she waited for drowsiness to knock her out, a plan
hatched. With a smile on her lips, Gracie drifted off to sleep.

Chapter Three

Before the sun was up, her dry mouth
begged for water, waking Grace early with a huge thirst. The slight headache
pounding at her temples told her she’d had a touch too much to drink at the
party.
At least I wasn’t wasted, like
Jake.
She padded into the kitchen for a tall glass of water then put up a
pot of coffee.
Guess I’m awake.

Opening her laptop on the kitchen
table, she created a new blog under the name
Movie Maven.
After filling a mug and taking a few healthy sips, she
sat back to think. A grim smile crossed her lips as she started typing.
Payback time, Mr. Quill.

Just
in Time
should be retitled Don’t Waste Your
Time. The new Gunther Quill romantic comedy is neither romantic nor a comedy. More
like a comedy of errors—errors in writing, acting, and storyline.

Jake Matthews plays Donnie, a goofy guy in
love with the large-chested model next door…where have we heard that before?
Only everywhere! I nominate, Mr. Matthews for the most-wooden-performance-of-the-year
award. I wanted to take his pulse to see if he was still alive. As a romantic
lead he has the sex appeal of a slug. His performance put me to sleep.

Rhonda Dowling’s I.Q. must be smaller than
her bra size. But she’s not to blame. The script lacks humor, decent dialogue,
and an original, believable plot…but who am I to be so picky?

Shame on you, Mr. Quill. After producing the
fabulous Joe Martin series with that wonderful actor and gorgeous hunk, Quinn Roberts,
what possessed you to produce this cliché-ridden clunker?
Just In Time
stinks more than a rotten egg in a henhouse
in August. Hey, Mr. Quill, I hear they’re looking for baristas at the Starbucks
on Hollywood and Vine.

Save your money, moviegoers, watching paint
dry is more interesting than viewing
Just In Time
.

The Movie Maven

Gracie clicked
publish
. Then she went to
Facebook
and
Twitter
.

I just read the
funniest movie review!

She posted those words plus a link
to her Movie Maven blog everywhere she could think of.
I may be small potatoes, Gunther Quill, but I will keep a few people
away from your movie.
After refilling her cup, she closed her computer and
opened her
Nook
. She selected a new
romance book and settled down on the couch.

A nagging discomfort about her trashing
Jake preyed upon her mind until she remembered his line, “bet those taste as
good as they look” and the way he pawed her. Surprisingly, taking aim at
Gunther and Jake didn’t make her feel better.

Gunther still had succeeded in
humiliating her and Jake had made her feel ugly then cheap. She did have to
acknowledge that Jake had tried to make up for it before he barfed in the
bushes. She snickered at the memory of how embarrassed he was. Unexpected sympathy
for his pathetic drunkenness entered her heart.
So what? No one will see that blog. It’s new. No followers. So I’ve
dissed him to about a dozen people. Big whoop.

After reading for a bit, Grace fell
asleep. Sarah woke her up at eleven o’clock, chattering away while Grace prepared
a bowl of cereal for her niece. She joined her with Cheerios and opened her laptop.
Might as well see how few people came to
read my hatchet job.
She opened up the blog and checked the stats. Five
thousand hits in four hours.
Wow!
Then
she scrolled down to see the comments.
Oh
my God, two hundred and fifty!

Thanks for the heads
up. You saved me ten bucks.

Funniest review ever!

Love your review.

Comment after comment applauded her
scathing words. Occasionally, there would be a couple of people chastising her
for such harshness, but mostly the comments were positive. She read them all.
Huh. Imagine that!

She sat back a little dazed and
surprised. When she clicked on the stats again, half an hour later, five
thousand had become fifteen thousand.
Hot
damn! It’s going viral.

Scrolling through the comments, she
noticed one from Tiffany Cowles, giving her an email address with an offer.

Wish to publish this review
in
Celebs R Us
. Will pay fifteen
hundred dollars. Call this number to talk about writing a regular review column
for us.

Grace wrote down the phone number
and the email. She dashed off a response accepting Tiffany’s offer and sending
her a copy.
Yes, Ms. Cowles, I’d love to
do a weekly column. What’s the pay?

Grace hit “send” and sat back,
feeling proud of herself.
Viral?
Thousands? In
Celeb ‘R Us
I’ll reach
millions. Hah! Take that Gunther Quill!

* * * *

Down the street from The Stanford on
a high floor in the Wellington Arms, Jake Matthews dragged himself out of bed.
His mouth was as dry as cotton. He was as thirsty as if he’d been in the desert
for months. His head ached and his stomach was growling, but the idea of food
made him retch.

How
much did I drink last night?
He groaned and slipped on his bathrobe. Jake
had crashed at Quinn and Susanna Roberts’ apartment. He had been much too drunk
to go home so Bobby had called Quinn, who gave the go-ahead to drop Jake there.

Jake cracked the door open then
shuddered as the sound reverberated through his body. The brilliant winter sun
pouring through the living room windows stabbed Jake in the eyes. He padded to
the private guest bathroom to wash up.

When he finally emerged, Quinn and
Susanna were sitting on the sofa, coffee mugs on the table in front of them.
Susanna was reading the paper while Quinn surfed the Net on his laptop. When
Quinn’s gaze met Jake’s, he knew something was up. Quinn looked as if someone
had died.

“It’s just a hangover, Quinn. I’ll
be all right by performance time.”

“What happened last night?”

Jake went to the kitchen for coffee.
Need about a gallon of this.
He
popped two Ibuprofens into his mouth then washed them down. “I don’t remember
everything.”

“Bobby said you were bombed out of
your skull.”

He sat down slowly. “Maybe I had one
too many.”

“Maybe?”

“Okay, okay…I was a little…drunk.”

“How’d it go with Grace?”

All of a sudden, memories of the
fiasco date came flooding back. Jake put his head in his hands. “Oh my God.”

“Doesn’t sound good,” Quinn said.
Susanna put down the newspaper.

“Terrible. Horrible. I was a
Neanderthal. What did I do?”

“I
dunno
,
Jake, what did you do?” Quinn chuckled.

“This is no laughing matter. I
screwed up big time. Do you have the number of a florist?

“Why?”

“I
gotta
send flowers, a dozen roses… no, maybe two dozen.”

Susanna smiled. “Quinn has a florist
on speed dial.”

“Hey, I don’t mess up that often,”
Quinn protested.

“Often enough,” she said, glancing
at the vase of fresh pink roses on the sideboard in the dining room before picking
up the paper again.

Quinn wrote down the number for Jake,
who called immediately. “That’s right, The Stanford. Message? Hmm. How about
‘I’m so sorry about last night. You deserved better.’?”

Quinn nodded.

“That’s it, then. When’ll they be
delivered? Can’t you get them over there today? I really need them there today.
What? Okay, charge me the rush fee. Yeah.”

“So what exactly did you do, Jake?
If you don’t mind me asking,” Susanna said.

“Yeah. Spill it.”

Jake outlined most of the evening,
but stopped at the car ride home.

“Come on, Jake. That isn’t a dozen
roses evening. What else? Give!”

Jake took a deep breath and rubbed
his stubbly face. “Yeah, well, there was one other thing…”

“Come on, Jake. I’m on pins and
needles here.” Susanna turned her attention away from the news to look directly
at him.

“I
kinda
…
sorta
…attacked her?”

“You attacked her?” Quinn’s eyes grew
wide and Susanna gasped.

“Not really attacked. I got a little
carried away and went right to…ah…second base.”

“What did she do?”

“She shoved me against the car
door.”

“Good for her. What were you
thinking?” Susanna straightened up.

“He was thinking what he’d like to
do to her, right?” Quinn snickered.

“Guess so. I don’t remember much. I
said something, too. Something that really pissed her off.”

“What?” They both asked together.

Jake could feel heat travel up to
his face. He shook his head.

“You tell us, or I’m throwing you
out on your ass, buddy,” Quinn said, pushing to his feet.

Jake hid his face in his hands. “Bet
they taste as good as they look,” he muttered.

Quinn gave a low whistle while
Susanna burst out laughing. “If you had said that to me, you’d be limping right
now.”

“You’ve got balls, Jake. Maybe you
should’ve sent two dozen roses.”

“I can’t believe I said it either.
It’s like anything in my head just came right out of my mouth. Hey, I
mighta
thought that, but I’ve never said anything like it
to a woman…not on the first date! Geez.” He shuddered. “Oh, one other thing…”

“Yeah?”

“I barfed in her bushes.”

Quinn and Susanna cracked up. Then Susanna
stood up. “Come on, time for food. You need to put something in your stomach.”

“I don’t feel hungry.”

“Force yourself. It’ll make you feel
better.”

“I couldn’t feel worse…”

“Yeah? You could be facing her
instead of us.”

Jake cringed. “Oh, God. I can’t face
her until those flowers arrive.”

Susanna left them for the kitchen.

“So she was hot, eh?” Quinn glanced
at Jake.

“Hot? Beyond
smokin
’.
That dress…if it had been any lower, she would’ve been arrested. After what I
said to her…thought she was the maid. Oh boy. I’m amazed she went out with me.”
Jake was greeted by silence. He looked up at Quinn, who was frowning. His eyes were
darting along a page on his computer screen, his frown deepening. “Quinn?”

“Oh, buddy. Your day has just gone
from bad to worse. A whole lot worse.”

“What?” Jake leaned forward.

“
Just
In Time should be retitled, Waste of Time…”
Quinn read.

* * * *

Grace played
Monopoly
with Sarah on the dining room table. Her laptop was open,
and every half hour or so, she’d check it to see how the traffic on her Movie
Maven blog was doing. The numbers leapt up by the thousands then the tens of
thousands. After five hundred comments, she didn’t even bother to read them.
Once the hits topped one hundred thousand, she was giddy, almost lightheaded.
I never thought anyone would pay attention.
Never expected anything like this.

Cara joined them for a few moments
before she left for the theater. “I hope your date last night wasn’t too bad
because I’ve invited Jake to come for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day with us.
He’ll be bunking on the sofa.”

“What?” Gracie straightened up.

“We’re doing a matinée on Christmas
Eve and a performance on Christmas Day, so Jake can’t make it home to his
family.”

“Do we have to have him here?” Grace
chewed her lip.
Damn. Hoping I didn’t
have to face him.

“He’s my friend and colleague…” Before
Cara could finish, the doorman buzzed. “Let him up, Rex.” A minute later the
doorbell rang. Cara brought in a dozen perfect red roses in a vase. She put them
on the dining room table and tipped the delivery man.

“Roses!” Sarah squealed. “From a
fan, Mommy?”

“They’re for Aunt Gracie.” Cara
handed the card to Grace.

After reading the message, she
muttered to herself, “Damn right.”

“Uh oh. Aunt Gracie said a bad
word,” Sarah commented.

“I’m afraid Aunt Gracie does use bad
words from time to time…” Cara said.

“Who’s using bad words?” Grant piped
up. Wearing jeans and a flannel shirt, he joined them in the dining room.

“Me. Bad training. Blame Carol
Anne,” Gracie said.

“That was mom’s job to teach you not
to use bad words.” Cara moved over to give Grant a hug. He leaned down and
kissed her.

“Guess she failed then,” Gracie
laughed. Cara reached over and snatched the card away from Grace and took off.

“Hey! Give that back.” Grace chased
Cara, who was one step ahead, reading the message while running around the
house with her sister in hot pursuit. “It’s personal!”

Cara stopped. Her expression became
serious as she handed the note back to Gracie. “What happened last night?”

“Nothing.”

“This isn’t the place…but I want to
know. Are you all right?”

“Perfectly.” Grace picked up the
vase and placed it on the coffee table.

“But it says—”

“I know.” She cut her sister off.
“And that’s private. No explanations.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t have invited
him…”

“It’s fine! Cara, please! Butt out,
okay!” Grace raised her voice, grabbed her laptop, and then sped to her room,
slamming the door shut. She read it again.
Damn
right I deserved better.
But she was mollified.
At least he apologized.