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Authors: Sara Celi

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Hollywood Nights (14 page)

BOOK: Hollywood Nights
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“I’m a silent partner in the place. This is my family’s winery,” he said, after he opened the driver’s side door.

I cocked my head. “It is?”

“We’ve owned it for a few years.” He stepped out of the car. “You don’t know everything about me, Brynn, no matter how much you think you found out by snooping around my house the other day.”

My cheeks heated. “You know about that?”

He braced his hand on the top of the car and leaned halfway back inside. “I have cameras all over my house as part of the security system. So yes, I know about it.”

“I guess this means I should replace the diamond Rolex.” One of my eyebrows crept upward.

“I don’t own any Rolexes. Prefer Omegas.” He tapped the top of the car. “Come on. Let me give you a tour.”

The main building at Avalon featured a large dining room, tasting room and gift shop, with a small bed and breakfast in the back. When we walked in the front door, a loud exclamation came from behind the reception desk, and seconds later, a short redheaded woman in a maroon polo shirt ran up to Tanner.

“Ohmygod! What are you doing here?” she said in a high-pitched voice as she wrapped Tanner in a large bear hug. “You didn’t tell us you were coming!”

“Well, it would be more fun to surprise you,” he said, laughing as they hugged. “Did it work?”

“Yes,” she said into his shoulder. “But I’m still pissed we haven’t seen you for almost a year.”

Tanner pulled away from her. “I know. My fault.”

“Are you guys staying the night? You have to stay. We have a new chef and he makes amazing waffles.”

Tanner gave me a sideways glance. “We’re staying.”

“Good. You know, Mom’s been worried,” the woman said. “Especially ever since—”

“Do we have to talk about this right now?” Tanner raised his eyebrow at the woman and then turned to me. “Brynn Price, this is Grace. My sister.”

We greeted each other, and when she took my hand, her eyes locked with mine. “So you’re the new girl in his life? How long has this been going on? Do you like him? How did you two meet? Are you an actress? You look like an actress.” Her brow furrowed. “Or maybe TV. Are you a TV news anchor?”

I glanced at Tanner. Was this part of the act? Did he want to me to revert into some canned answers? I didn’t know because we hadn’t discussed it on the car ride up to Avalon. “Well, I’m—”

“Grace, come on,” Tanner said. “Good grief, she’s my guest. You don’t have to pepper her with twenty questions in the first five minutes.”

“It’s okay,” I said to both of them, then focused back on Grace. “Yes, I’m the new girl. The new girlfriend, if you want to call me that. And I’m an actress. Sometimes. When I get work.”

“I knew you resembled the woman I saw the other day on
Gratify
’s website,” she said. “But you’re prettier in person.” She motioned at both of us. “Come on, I’ll give you a tour.”

Avalon had 150 acres of vines and orchards, an expansive view of the valley, and an award-winning Chardonnay
Wine Spectator
had called the best in California. As we wound our way through the property, Grace shared the family history: Their paternal grandfather’s family had a vineyard in northern California they lost during the economic downturn of the early 1970s, and then some of the family had moved to Solvang and central California for better opportunities. Tanner’s parents saved for years to buy another vineyard, but never could cobble together enough money.

Then Tanner moved to Hollywood and landed the starring role on
Regent
within his first month of living in Los Angeles.

“It didn’t pay much the first season, but when my agent negotiated the contract my second year, I tripled my salary,” Tanner said, as we walked into the main tasting room. A few patrons stood at a long mahogany counter sampling wines, and a few of them glanced in our direction, telltale expressions of recognition on their faces. “It was enough to make up the rest of the down payment.”

“Mom and Dad still want to pay you back. They said something about it a few weeks back,” Grace said. “And they’re going to be
devastated
you came to visit the weekend they were on their Alaskan cruise.”

“Sometimes, you need to get away.” Tanner shrugged one shoulder. “You don’t live in LA. If you did, you’d get it.”

“It can be stifling,” I said, taking a step closer to Tanner. “A lot of sunshine and fresh air, but everything can seem so stale.”

“You know you can move here whenever you want to,” Grace said to Tanner. “We have more than enough room.”

“But who would I be if—” Tanner broke off. “Never mind.” His face brightened. “Anyway, the place looks good. Glad to see it.”

“We’ve done well here,” Grace said to me. “Can’t complain.” She walked to the opposite side of the counter. “Would you like to sample something? We have a new Chardonnay you have to try.”

I requested a glass of it, and when she turned her attention to Tanner, he waved her away.

“Nothing for me,” he said and then turned back to me. “See? I was serious about what I said this morning. No more drinking.”

“It’s not the drinking that’s the problem—it’s your self-control.” I studied him. “But I’m impressed.”

“Good. Consider this a new way of thinking, thanks to better people in my life.”

My stomach flipped as our eyes locked. He had to mean me. Of all people—me. Some nobody from nowhere Ohio. A girl who’d been on the edge of desperation a few days before.

“I can’t believe you’re part owner of a winery,” I said under my breath as Grace strode away.

“Because you didn’t read that little tidbit about me in
Chat
?” One side of his mouth turned up and his opposite eyebrow raised. “Parts of me are still private, believe it or not.”

“I like those parts,” I said. “The things no one sees.”

His gaze floated down to the pockmarked wood of the counter. “There’s not much left, I’m afraid. That’s the thing about fame. It brings you a lot, but everything has a cost. More than most people realize.”

I started to answer, but then Grace arrived with my tasting glass. “Here you are.” She placed it in front of me. “And if you like it, then we’ll make sure you head home with a few bottles.”

Tanner got a sideways glance from me. “I guess it pays to know the owner, doesn’t it?”

The Chardonnay had a crisp, fruity, clear taste with hints of honey and pear. It slid down my throat, and when I put the glass down on the counter, I had to agree with Grace and Tanner. It would satisfy the pickiest palate.

“This is amazing,” I said. “What’s it called?”

“The label doesn’t have a name yet,” Tanner said, after staring at me in silence for a long time. “We haven’t found one that fits.”

“You haven’t?”

“No,” he said. “But I’m hoping that will change soon.”

 

 

 

“H
ere you go,” I said as I led Brynn down the wide hallway of the lodge. “Room 236. All yours.” I swiped the key through the lock and opened the door to a large room with a king-sized bed, light blue décor, a huge Tyler Shields original photograph on the wall behind the headboard, and a sweeping view of the vineyard, which looked like a painting thanks to the setting afternoon sun. Behind me, Brynn gasped.

“This is…”—she swallowed—“the nicest hotel I have ever stayed in.”

“The lodge has fifteen rooms,” I said. “Most of them are the same as this one. Breakfast is tomorrow from seven to nine. I figure we’ll leave around eight?”

Brynn filed into the room behind me and placed her black purse on the bed, one I was pretty sure she’d purchased during her trip to Barneys. I looked one more time at the bag’s heavy hardware and crisp black leather. I would have bought her ten of them if it made her happy, and the realization made me shiver.

Keep it business… keep it business…

“You should have everything you need.” I turned away and busied myself, opening the closed door to show her the bathrobe, flipping on the light in the bathroom, and telling her where to find towels and how to call the front desk if she wanted anything overnight. “We have room service until midnight if you need something after dinner, and all you need to do is call—”

Her laughter made me stop talking.

“What?” I turned my head and hung up the house phone’s handset.

“You’re nervous, aren’t you?” Brynn leaned against the TV console. “Why?”

“I’m not nervous.”

She jerked her chin in the direction of my hand. “Your hands are shaking.”

Goddamn it.
I shoved my hands in the back pockets of my jeans. “Just want to make sure you’re comfortable here tonight.”

Her hand made a sweeping gesture. “How could I not be?”

“The thing is…” I cleared my throat. What did I want to tell her? How the light from the window danced through her hair and made it look like it was on fire? That she had somehow become more gorgeous in one day? That I already wanted to change the contract—I didn’t care about it anymore?

“I have an idea.” She crossed her arms and one side of her mouth turned upward. “Tell me your most embarrassing moment from your childhood, Tanner.”

“Excuse me?”

“You can’t be all perfect, Mr. Big Time.” She still smiled. “You heard me. Tell me your most embarrassing moment. Now.”

Brynn crossed the room and sat down on the overstuffed armchair in front of the window. The light streaked through the soft tendrils of her hair further, and I sat down on the bed.

“We did this in an acting class I took once, back when I first got out to LA,” she said. “It’s supposed to make people feel more at ease with each other. Make us more
real.
” A shrug. “So, I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

“I’m listening,” I said, managing to ignore my hard-on, which tightened with every second we sat in this room together. “You go first.”

“This is a pretty easy one.” Brynn’s gaze drifted away to a spot the cream wall for a moment. “When I was a sophomore in high school, I was a pretty huge klutz. Always breaking things. I was also one of those drama geeks.” She turned back to me, and I saw a hint of blush cross her cheeks. “Always in the plays at Griffin High. Always wanting the main parts. Never got one.” She waved her hand. “So we’re doing
Anything Goes
, and I’m one of the chorus girls. Three days or so before opening night, I cross the stage in these heels during rehearsal.” She laughed to herself and looked down at her hands. “And I tripped on a cord for the lights. It was supposed to be taped down across the whole stage, but it wasn’t in that area.” A pause. “I ended up breaking half of the set.”

“The whole thing?”

A nod. “It all came crashing down when my foot yanked the cord. The lights, the scaffolding, everything. Right in front of the director, and the seniors, and everyone else. Maybe a hundred people.” She smiled. “I was mortified. Totally. They never let me live that down. Ever.” She laughed, and I took it as permission to laugh, too.

“I’m getting this vision of this happening,” I said. “Like one of those bad sitcoms. Maybe you should have gone into comedy?”

Her laugh grew a little louder, and I loved it. I wanted to hear more of the round, full sound. This woman should never be unhappy. Never. She should always be at ease, and always laughing. Always.

“They never expected I would make it out here,” she said. “All my classmates told me I was crazy. I wasn’t a good actress back then, I promise. Totally overdramatic. The only person who encouraged me to follow my Hollywood dream was my dad. He might have been a drunk, but at least he believed in me.”

“Did you believe in yourself?”

“I did before I got out here. Stubborn enough to think I could prove them all wrong.” She crossed her legs and changed positions in the chair. “But it’s gotten harder and harder as the months have gone by.”

I nodded, and we fell silent for a long time.

“Anyway,” she finally said, and clapped her hands. “I’ve told you mine, so you have to tell me yours.”

“It’s not nearly as good as your story.” My eyebrow arched. “Yours puts mine to shame, Miss Hollywood.”

“Miss Hollywood? My new nickname?”

I nodded. “If I get a nickname, then you do, too. So Miss Hollywood it is. You like it?”

BOOK: Hollywood Nights
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