Perfectly Scripted (23 page)

I killed the call, and focused my attention back to Heather. Once she’d anchored herself to the wall, she slid down until she fell on her ass. Drawing her knees up to her chest, she groaned and then buried her face.

Sighing, I called Blake and asked him to bring me some black coffee from the café downstairs. After I’d hung up, I heard Heather crying.
Shit.

I froze as my mind reeled back to my conversation with Ronan. I didn’t want to get involved, but at this point, it seemed unavoidable. Blowing out a breath, I walked over and sat beside her. A few staffers walked by, giving us forced smiles or nods.

I pulled a tissue out of my handbag and waved it in front of her. “Here you go.”

She shot me a confused look.

“Go on. Take it,” I insisted.

“Thanks,” she mumbled through her sobs.

Feeling terribly uncomfortable there, I sat with Heather Young, listening to her sniffle and blow her nose. After the way she’d treated Ronan, I didn’t want to be nice to her, much less give a damn. After several minutes, and extreme self-control on my part, the sound of whistling drew my attention toward the end of the hallway. Blake had shown up with the coffee. Offering the cup, I urged her to take a drink. To my surprise, she didn’t resist or dump it on me.

After clearing his throat, he asked, “Should I stick around?”

I took him aside and said, “Yeah. Could you wait for me inside the suite?” I handed him the keycard. “I shouldn’t be too much longer. If her boyfriend can’t make it, will you take her home?”

He nodded and let himself into the room. I looked at my watch and realized I only had an hour before I had to be in Charlotte’s room to have my hair done. Ten minutes later, Heather stood up and set the coffee cup on the credenza in the hallway.

“Feeling any better?” I asked.

“A little bit,” she replied, shoving her hands into the pockets of her coat. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

“Trust me, I don’t want to be.”

She cocked an eyebrow at me and laughed softly. Then I received a text from Grady saying that he was there and wanting to know where to go. Feeling relieved, I sent him the suite number.

“Your boyfriend is here to pick you up.”

She sighed deeply. “Great. Can you not tell him about the drinking?”

“It’s not my responsibility to tell, but you should let him help you.”

She rolled her eyes and scooped up her handbag. “Fine. I’ll talk to him. Just remember what I said. Grady is off-limits to you.”

I held my hands up in surrender. “I’ve got no problem with that.”

As the last word left my mouth, Grady appeared, and Heather walked towards him. He looked my way, but I didn’t know what to say or do. Wave? Smile? Nod? Shrug? I wasn’t “allowed” to do any of those things.

They started to argue, so I tapped on the door and Blake let me in. Closing it behind me, I shook my head.

“That looked pretty intense with you and the blonde,” Blake said before grabbing the remote to turn the television off.

I ran my hands through my hair. “Yeah. It wasn’t how I wanted to spend the last hour.”

“You want me to get you a drink from the bar?” he asked.

“You know me well, Blake. Thanks. That would be amazing.”

The clapping was deafening, but Charlotte had earned every single round of applause. The runway presentation had gone off with only a few minor backstage hiccups. There was no sign of Melina— or any talk of her alleged accusations. Charlotte had been nervous most of the day, but her lawyer had assured her that any rumblings would be dealt with swiftly. Any time she’d felt uneasy, I’d drawn her attention elsewhere in an effort to keep her sane. The only thing Charlotte had to do now was to wait for the incoming orders and show reviews and, more importantly, relax.

Before the show, Ronan had texted me, sending best wishes and much love. He’d managed to surprise Char and me with two dozen red and white roses for good luck. The next day, he would travel to Berlin, the day after that Milan, and finally in London that Friday, where his parents and younger sister, Ella, would be attending the premiere. Last time we’d spoken, he’d told me how excited he was to see his family. He hadn’t been London since last November.

“Congratulations, girlie!” Tinley appeared in the doorway, making her way through the crowd backstage.

I hugged her and handed her a glass of champagne. “Thanks so much for being here. What did you think of the collection?”

Before she could answer, the photographer from
Belle Magazine
shouted, “Tinley! Holliday! Over here! Give us a smile for the cameras!”

It didn’t take long before we were surrounded by more magazine photographers. They were polite, gathering a few quotes from us, and after ten minutes, they were gone.

“Back to your question—everything was beautiful.” She waved her hand in the air. “I especially loved the evening gowns and the handbags. I
need
one in every single color and style.”

“I think we can make that happen,” I replied, bumping her shoulder with my own.

We walked into the ballroom to escape the backstage chaos. All the clothes were being packed up in garment bags, and the accessories were boxed carefully.

“Isn’t that your ex-boyfriend standing by the bar?” Tinley asked without making it obvious where to direct my gaze.

What the hell is he doing back here?
With all the paparazzi around, I couldn’t risk having another photo of Grady and me surface in the tabloids.

“Oh, do I have a story for you, but I cannot tell you here,” I said in a hushed voice, looking over my shoulder. “Let me go check on Charlotte, and then we’ll get out of here.”

She nodded. “Juicy gossip?”

I shook my head, and I went off to find my sister. Five minutes later, I bumped into her while she was talking with one of the buyers from Saks. Once they’d finished their conversation, I said hello and made small talk about the show and the collection. Then I asked Maya to escort the Saks buyer, Veronica, up to the suites. Another buyer approached Charlotte as my phone vibrated.

GRADY
:
I need to talk to you.

ME: No. Chaos, remember? I’m not trying to be rude. Sorry.

GRADY: It will only take a few minutes. I promise.

Before responding, I looked around for Tinley. She was near the runway, talking to Gavin Lacourt, the famous fashion photographer. I sent a message to her asking to meet me up in my suite when she was finished.

ME: Fine. Meet me in room 635. Do not follow me. Wait five minutes after I leave.

Well, I was juggling a lot of balls in the air tonight. I would be glad when this day was over so that I could sleep. I wished Ronan were there and that I was going home to him.

Home.
I sighed at the thought. The place where we would curl up by the fire with a bottle of wine and share stories about our days.
Shit.
That thought made me wonder if I should even tell Ronan about the Heather incident.

I should tell him.

I would tell him.

The buyer stepped away, and I faced my sister. “How are you doing?”

“Wonderful,” she hummed. “How’s it going backstage?”

“Good. Jesse and his crew have everything under control. I’m going up to the VIP suites with Tinley. Also, Grady showed up and he wants to talk to me.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Really?”

Nodding, I replied, “I assume it has to do with Heather.”

A server walked by and Charlotte grabbed a glass of champagne. Earlier, when we had been getting our hair and makeup done, I’d told her all about the Heather Young drama. She’d been impressed with the way I’d handled things and told me to stay far away from those two. I’d agreed.

But he had shown up, and that didn’t seem to help matters.

“Well, go talk to Grady. I have a few more interviews, but keep your phone close.” She winked and brushed past me. “It might be an early night for me.”

Turning on my heel, I looked over her shoulder and saw Lucan. He took her in his arms and gave her an utterly romantic kiss.

Across the room, I spied Blake. I walked over to him to let him know where I was going. I was beginning to be okay with the idea of having a bodyguard twenty-four-seven. Not that I needed the protection, but today, having Blake around had been both helpful and comforting. And as a bonus, he was beginning to loosen up. He actually called me Holliday the other day instead of Miss Prescott.

Exiting the ballroom, I turned the corner, making my way to the bank of elevators. I pressed the button, and stepped into the car. On the ride up, I checked my phone for any new videos or photographs of Ronan on the red carpet.
Score!
There was an article with new pictures on Tinsel and Hollywood dot com. Ronan looked so handsome in his black suit. His hair was tamed back in relaxed waves. Standing taller than his petite co-star, he oozed confidence and mass sex appeal.

He’s about to become a huge star.

The doors parted and I walked towards my room. Once inside, I kicked my heels off, grateful for a moment to take a breather. A few minutes later, right on time, Grady knocked on the door. He sidestepped me to stand near the bar and helped himself to a drink.

“The show was cool,” he remarked.

“Yes. We’re quite pleased with how it all came together.”

He finished his drink and poured another. Further delaying our conversation, he stepped onto the balcony. The chilly breezed whipped through the room, sending a shiver up my back.

“Okay, close the door and tell me what this is all about. I have guests to entertain.” As I drew in a breath, my irritation flared.

He shuffled back into the room and took a seat in the armchair.

I smoothed my palms down the back of my dress and took a seat across from Grady.

“I took Heather to a rehab facility today,” he confessed. “As it was painfully obvious, she’s using again.” He pushed to his feet, shoving a hand through his hair. “She claims Ronan came on to her.”

My shoulders tensed as I prepped for a verbal battle. But I began to speak, Grady cut me off.

He shook his head. “I don’t believe Heather. For a number of reasons.”

Relaxing into the chair, I replied, “Good. I’m glad to hear that. But why come and tell me this news in person?”

“I’m to blame for why she came looking for you today.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“I was on the phone with my assistant, giving her details on a trip I wanted to book—a getaway for Heather and me while she was on break from filming. When I hung up, she cornered me, asking me what it was I was up to. To avoid spilling the secret, I told her you called me.”

“Why would you do that? This is a much bigger problem than some surprise potentially being ruined.”

“I know. I know it was stupid.” He threw his hands up. “I just blurted out your name.”

I rolled my eyes. “Why?”

He let out a deep sigh. “My assistant wanted to see if I could get her tickets to Charlotte’s show. That’s what we were discussing before the travel plans. I guess you were on my mind.”

I padded to the bar. Then I grabbed the bottle of wine and poured myself over half a glass. “I’m sure Heather grilled you about why I allegedly called you. So, what did you say?” I asked before taking a long drink.

“She didn’t ask me anything. She said, ‘Oh, that’s nice,’ and never brought it up again.”

“That was a real bonehead move, Grady.”

“I know, and I am sorry.”

“If anything like this should come up in the future, do me a favor and tell your girlfriend you have a surprise for her
and
that you won’t be revealing any details.”

His smiled broadened. “Deal.”

“Before this incident, did you know Heather was using again?”

“I had my suspicions, only because there had been an excess amount of gum and mints around her place lately.” His gaze shifted away from mine. “And she’s overstocked on mouthwash,” he added. “I found several empty bottles in the recycling bin a few days ago.”