Hollywood Ever After (11 page)

“I don’t know. It could make everything completely different for us financially. But I’m worried about the kids. It’s not a fairy tale kind of story.” I looked out over the beach below me. “Obviously.”

“Well, they won’t be reading it for a few years. By then I imagine a lot of what you’ve written will have made itself known to them.” She paused. “Really think about this.”

“I wish you could read it. I’d like your input before I make a decision.”

“Send it to me.”

“They want an answer soon.”

“Send it. I’ll read it over and give you my two cents’ worth.”

“Some of it might be hard for you to read.” I knew that was an understatement.

“I’m a big girl, Claire. I know what happened. I know it was bad. I’m excited for you about this. And I’m proud of you, too.”

“Kiss the kids for me, please. I’m missing them.” I was, desperately. I stared out the window at the rolling surf in the sunset. I could imagine evenings here, a board game underway, shell collecting on the beach.

“They—we miss you too. I love you, Claire. Trust your instincts and believe in yourself. I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”

“Okay. I love you too, Mom.” I hung up the phone and wandered back inside.

I grabbed the contract from the table and read over it again. I hadn’t read my book since I’d written it. I’d found it when I was cleaning out the files on my old computer. Shannon wanted to read it, so I’d emailed it to her. For me, once the writing ended, the story ended. I’d been content to close it away in the hopes that it would keep all of the bad memories with it.

It hadn’t.

“What are you going to wear?” Shannon asked, sauntering into the dining room. Her phone rang, interrupting our discussion. “Sorry again.” She shot me an apologetic smile. “Hi,” she answered her phone and left the room to take the call.

I stared at the clothes piled on my bed. There was no way I was going to get all these into my suitcase. I dug through one of the shopping bags, looking for something appropriate to wear for dinner.

For the hundredth time, images of attentive hazel eyes and wayward dark blond hair appeared before me. I touched my lips absentmindedly, feeling the memory of his lips on mine. I wished…

Enough was enough. I pulled off my clothes and stepped into a blue silk dress. It was soft, draping over my curves in a very enticing way. I looked really nice. I slipped on my wedge heels, clasped on a lapis lazuli choker, and twisted my hair into a loose knot, clipping it at the base of my neck.

“You look gorgeous.” Shannon was leaning against the doorway.

“So this is appropriate attire? I have no clue.”

“You’re actually wearing more clothes than is required, but it’ll do.” She smiled, arching her brow mischievously. “We’re going to meet a few of my work friends there. Don’t worry, though, I don’t have any more surprises for you.”

“Promise?” I was only half teasing her.

“I’ve learned my lesson. Cross my heart and hope to die on this one, okay?” She came forward and hugged me. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you…”

“I know, Shannon. I do,” I said. “But I need you to talk to me before you do anything to help me next time, okay? I’m not so good with the surprises.”

She nodded. “Got it.”

“Speaking of surprises,” I mumbled, “I asked Mom to read my book and give me her input.” I clicked on my email and sent the manuscript off to Mom, sharing our conversation with Shannon while I scanned my inbox.

“Has she read it before?” Shannon asked.

“Only you. And Frank Graham, I guess.” I shot her a look. “I didn’t want her to have to go there.”

“She’ll be okay, Claire.” She had the good sense to look somewhat apologetic.

“I just don’t feel ready to make any big decisions like that. Not yet.”

She flipped off lights as we went, closing the front door behind us. “You need to smile, enjoy some good food with your best friend. Then we’ll hit some clubs.”

I smiled, my mind flitting back to Josh again. I wished I was having dinner with him.

Chapter Six

“Another one, please.” I sounded funny.
Am I slurring my words?
The club was so loud that everything sounded a little distorted.

“Uh-huh, that’s just what you need,” Shannon said.

I finished my drink, swaying to the beat of the music.
Why can’t I sit still?

“It’s her vacation. She can drink as much as she wants,” Arthur White said.

I smiled at Arthur. He was a delightful surprise. Bald and slightly round, Arthur had a witty sense of humor and a gentle face. I had the distinct impression that he might be Shannon’s boyfriend and I couldn’t be happier.

“Thank you, Arthur. I know…I mean, I think I’m drunk.” I paused, then nodded at my statement. “It’s been a long time, but this is the way I think it felt…then.” I saw Shannon’s eyebrows rise as I sputtered to a halting stop. “Don’t look at me like that. This is all
your
fault.” I stared at Shannon, eyes narrowed.

“My fault? Do tell.” She seemed to be swaying in her seat too.

Or maybe it was just me.

“The whole
new life
thing. This has been the most bizarre few days of my life. Which is saying a lot, considering how totally screwed up my life has been. Is this a mid-life crisis? Is thirty-five middle-aged?” I paused, but neither of them said anything, so I continued. “I mean, the damn book…” I pointed a wobbly finger at Shannon. “I should hate you for that. You know that, right?”

Shannon blushed and nodded. “You should. But you don’t.” I knew she felt sincerely sorry; I could see it on her face. Of course, I’d drunk most of a bottle of tequila, so I wasn’t one hundred percent about anything I was seeing at this point. “Any second you’re going to be stoked about becoming a published author. Just wait.”

“Why would anyone
want
to publish it? It’s so damn depressing.”

Shannon shook her head, watching me with arched eyebrows. “You’re going to have the mother of all hangovers tomorrow, Claire.”

I shrugged. “I’ll live. I guess I can blame you for Josh, too.”

“What about Josh?” Shannon smiled, nudging Arthur.

“Josh… Well.” Memories flashed, making my words rush out unsteadily. “If it wasn’t for you I would never have tripped or fallen or had him smile
that
smile at me. I’d probably never have seen his movie. Oh, maybe I would, since it was your movie too. But now he’s…I think…he’s really…” My throat was suddenly very dry. Josh filled my mind. “What am I
doing?
”

“Right now, you’re drinking. More than I’ve ever seen you drink.” Shannon winced as I downed the contents of my fresh drink.

“Can we dance?” I stood, wobbling.

Shannon nodded. “Let’s go.”

Arthur stayed at our table. “I’m more of a voyeur. Watching you two should be quite entertaining.” He laughed as Shannon scowled at him.

I loved dancing. At least I did tonight. I felt surrounded by the thumping bass and the energy of the other dancers on the floor. I pulled Shannon after me. When we found some space on the dance floor, I closed my eyes and let the music move my body. Occasionally someone pushed into us or bumped me, but I laughed it off. Shannon was very tolerant. Dancing was not her thing.

“You don’t have to keep me company.” I smiled brightly at her. The lights bounced off the dance floor, off dancers’ sequined shirts, as well as someone’s glittered Mohawk. I blinked, but my eyes didn’t respond and everything stayed pleasantly fuzzy around the edges.

“Claire, I’m not leaving you alone on the dance floor right now.”

I laughed at the expression on her face. “I’m just dancing. I love dancing.”

She laughed too. “So I see.”

The next song was familiar. I’d listened to it in the car with the kids, blasting it as loudly as possible. It had an awesome beat.

“I love this song!” I squealed before singing along to the chorus, loudly.

A man danced across the floor, smiling at me enthusiastically. He danced around me while I continued to sing and spin with the beat. He moved in a little bit closer, singing the chorus too. I giggled; neither one of us should ever sing. He spun me once and I twirled into him, laughing when I almost fell over. He caught me and spun me away again.

Two very large, strong hands caught me and I looked up into the most beautiful face I’d seen since last night.

“Josh?
Hi,
Josh!” I squealed, bouncing in his arms as he smiled down at me. I kept bouncing, my racing heart thumping faster than the music as his hands slid around my back. “I didn’t know you were here.” I was smiling like an idiot.

“You’re a rather focused dancer.”

“I am! Never do it…dance, I mean. But it’s fun!” The song ended and I frowned.

He laughed. “Should I make them play the song again? I will if it will make that pathetic little frown disappear.”

Another song began. It was slower, but it still had a good beat. “No, I think this will work, and I won’t sing. Even better.”

“I liked your singing.” He was looking at me…the way he always looked at me.

I felt light-headed and dizzy as I stared up at him, wobbling on unsteady feet. I knew I was drunk, but now there was more than just alcohol heating me up from the inside.

His hands were firm, guiding me closer to him. I let one hand rest on his chest as we swayed together. Between the buzzing euphoria from my many drinks and the raging hunger burning in his eyes, my every nerve was tingling. I was more than a little pleased with life at the moment.

I quivered under his touch. His fingers splayed across my lower back, fitting us closer together. We danced with the music, our movements in sync with one another.

Under the flashing colored lights, my hand looked red and then green against the white of his shirt. I felt the heat of his skin, the solid strength of his muscles through the fabric of his shirt. His scent, his touch, his presence stirred images of our night together, sharp in my otherwise foggy mind. My skin grew more sensitive and my senses flooded with him.

I was aching for him, all of him. Now. My breath grew short as I remembered how he felt buried deep inside me.

The rational side of my brain knew I was losing control, but there was too much alcohol in my system. I had no fear or inhibition. And I liked the fire raging inside of me.

My eyes slid to his mouth and I felt my tongue wet my lips. His breath hitched and he closed his eyes. When he looked at me again, there was little doubt he knew exactly what I was feeling.

The song ended and I felt myself being guided from the floor.

“Taking her home?” Shannon had apparently returned to the table. She and Arthur regarded us with interest.

There were three other people at the table now. I didn’t know them. But I didn’t really care at the moment. I wanted to kiss the pulse wildly beating in Josh’s throat. I was vaguely aware that now might not be the right time for that. I glanced at his neck. It looked very kissable.

“Unless you have other plans?” Josh looked from Shannon to me.

I was looking at him as if I were about to eat him. It wasn’t intentional; that was really what I wanted to do at the moment…because he was so damn
gorgeous
…

He looked back at Shannon, his jaw muscle noticeably rigid.

“I recommend you get her home. And make her drink some water at some point, please,” Shannon added. “Here.” She handed Josh some keys and waved at me with a smile.

Then we were heading toward the door. “Wait.” I stopped. We weren’t moving, but everything seemed to be moving around me. “You’re here with friends?”

His hands clasped my shoulders, steadying me. He smiled down at me. “Yes.”

“You shouldn’t leave them. I don’t want to mono…monopolize you.” My words trailed off as my eyes met his.

He wanted me. I could see it. His nostrils flared just a bit. His jaw clenched and unclenched. I smiled slowly. I liked that I could make him react this way.

I asked, “Don’t you want to stay?”
Say no
.

If he wanted to stay, I
might
be able to stop staring at him or thinking about how perfectly we fit together. It wasn’t completely out of the question, not yet. My eyes fell to his lips and my smile grew.

“No.” He leaned closer, whispering in my ear, “Claire, we have to leave
now
if you’re going to look at me like that.” His face reflected the hunger I felt.

My voice was husky as I whispered, “I’ll be good.”
Not a chance
.

He paused, his eyebrow rose in question. “You want to stay?”

“Nope.” My eyes fell to his mouth again.

Josh’s smile was pinched as he led me to the exit.

He stopped at the door, taking off his jacket and handing it to me. “There are photographers outside.” He smiled at the confused expression on my face as he placed his jacket over my head to hide me.

I clung to Josh’s hand, trusting him to lead me through the throng of press and enthusiastic fans. I could hear them though, and it was slightly intimidating. There were shouts of “Josh!” and “We love you!” and other things I didn’t understand. I held on tight.

Then I was in a car. Josh helped me in and shut the door firmly while I burrowed under his jacket and waited. He was in the car a minute later, starting the engine and pulling out of the parking lot. It took some time; I could hear the sound of voices, rapid clicking, and the occasional thump on the car’s hood. I pulled myself into a ball, completely covered by his coat. I imagined photographers pressed to his windshield and tugged the coat closer, remembering clips from entertainment shows. I remembered wanting to slap those photographers as they crammed themselves and their cameras into the celebrity’s personal space. That was something Josh had to contend with. It was part of his life.

He peeked under the jacket at me. “We’re off.”

“Safe?” I smiled at him.

His eyes lingered before he turned his attention back to driving. “Safe.”