Jane Austen Goes to Hollywood (13 page)

Grace snorted. Hallie shot her a warning look.

“Hey.” Dakota leaned down to kiss her cheek — the L.A. way, as Hallie was learning — and then presented her with a small posy of flowers. “I picked these. And for you, too,” Dakota added, passing another posy to Grace.

Grace’s expression softened in surprise. “Oh. Thanks.”

“Grace can’t stay,” Hallie said quickly, sending her a pleading look. “She’s busy, right?”

Grace glanced back and forth between Hallie and Dakota, before finally giving Hallie a begrudging smile. “Right.” She got up. “But thanks for these.”

“That was sweet,” Hallie told him as Grace headed back into the guesthouse. “I bet she’s never gotten flowers before.”

“I know they’re not fancy or anything . . .” Dakota trailed off, eyes going to the excessive display of orchids Brandon had brought over earlier, perched in a cut-glass bowl in the middle of the table.

“No, I love them!” Hallie exclaimed. “Wild flowers are better than stuffy florist bouquets, they’re so pretty. Natural.” She yanked Brandon’s flowers out of the water and tossed them aside, arranging Dakota’s posy in their place. “There.”

Dakota folded himself onto the lounger next to hers and picked up Hallie’s book. “He’s one of my favorites,” Hallie explained quickly. She’d almost picked out Kerouac, but figured Dakota would be more of a modern, edgy guy.

She was right. Dakota’s smile got wider. “Me too!” He flipped through the dog-eared pages. “I read this years ago, but I lost my copy.” He passed it back to her. “Maybe I could borrow it when you’re done?”

“Take it now,” Hallie insisted. “I’ve read it tons of times.”

“You sure?”

“Absolutely.” Hallie pushed it into his hands. “Then you can tell me what you think.”

“Our own private book club,” Dakota suggested with another heart-stopping grin, and Hallie had to stifle a sigh.

He was still perfect.

She’d known he would be, of course she had, but in the two hours she’d been waiting there, a tiny niggle of doubt had crept into Hallie’s mind. What if she’d been suffering some post-traumatic stress episode brought on via saltwater inhalation — built him up in her mind to unfathomable heights — and in the cold harsh light of day he turned out to be nothing more than a wannabe rock star with a taste for dirty denim?

But he was there, beside her now, just as magnificent as she’d remembered. More so, even, because her memory couldn’t contain the intensity that radiated from him, or the dark mischief in his eyes. . . .

“Yooo-hooo!” Amber’s high-pitched voice echoed across the lawn. She was on the back patio, phone to her ear. “Don’t you two move,” she called. “I’ll be right out!” She waved, then disappeared back inside.

Hallie gulped. “You know, I’m feeling kind of restless.” She turned to Dakota. “And I should really take the dogs out.” He didn’t miss a beat.

“How about a walk?” he suggested, a knowing smile tugging the edge of his lips.

They strolled the leafy streets for hours: Marilyn and Monroe scampering at their heels, Hallie’s hand tucked in the crook of Dakota’s arm like they were an old-fashioned couple. They talked about everything she could think of — words tumbling out in an excited stream. She couldn’t help herself, she needed to know everything about him.

“High school,” Hallie demanded.

Dakota made a face. “Endless. Frustrating. Limited. Done.”

She laughed. “Me too.”

“No way,” he told her. “You were the most popular girl in school, I can tell. Homecoming queen. Most likely to succeed, all that stuff.”

“No!” Hallie protested. He gave her a dubious look. “Well, OK, maybe I was popular,” she admitted, “but that didn’t mean it mattered to me. I always felt . . . different. Like the things I wanted, they’d never understand.”

“Like what?” Dakota turned.

She exhaled. “To . . . matter. To have people know my name. To leave a mark on the world!” She stopped, self-conscious. “It sounds, conceited, I know, but it’s not like that. I just mean, we’re all so
small,
and life is so fleeting; I don’t want to just be gone, and have there be nothing left of me, you know?”

“I do.” Dakota smiled slowly. “It’s why I write. So somebody out there can know I exist. So I can reach them.”

“I mean, imagine twenty years from now, someone watching a movie with me in it, or listening to one of your songs. Not even here,” Hallie added excitedly, “but in England, or China, or somewhere. That they would know who we are, that we existed! Instead of just . . .”

“Fading away,” Dakota finished. “My parents think it’s crazy, to just move out here and try to be, what, a rock star?”

“But it’s not!” Hallie insisted. “I think it’s crazy to just sit around, and not try to make your dreams happen. Think about spending your whole life wondering,
What if?
”

“They don’t get it!” he agreed. “My dad works a factory gig, just slaving away ten hours a day, and for what? A paycheck that’s gone by the end of the month? I want more than that.”

“You
are
more than that,” Hallie told him, breathless. He understood. He understood
her.
“We both are.”

He stopped walking, and with a flash of disappointment, Hallie realized they were back outside Uncle Auggie’s mansion. The dogs yapped, impatient. “I’m really glad I met you,” Dakota said, almost shyly. “Not that you nearly drowned,” he added quickly. “But, you know.”

Hallie nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

“Me and the guys are playing a gig Friday night, over in Hollywood.” Dakota looked hopeful. “I can put you on the list if you feel up to coming?”

“I’d love to!” Hallie exclaimed. “But . . .”

Dakota waited. “What?”

“It’s just . . . Friday is a long way away.” She felt her cheeks flush. But she couldn’t help it! The thought of a whole week passing before she could see him again? Unfathomable!

Dakota must have agreed, because he grinned. “You’ll need to build your strength back up, like the doctor said. How about another walk? Tomorrow?”

“Perfect.” Hallie sighed with happiness. And he was.

Dakota came to visit the next day, and every day that week, bringing Hallie a new gift each afternoon. A copy of his last demo CD; a ripe peach; a single blush-pink peony. Hallie lined them up on her bedroom windowsill like trophies — evidence that their time together was real, that
he
was real, and not conjured out of her imagination after a lifetime of idle daydreaming and sheer longing.

Because he was so right for her. Sensitive, thoughtful, artistic, intense . . . Since the night he pulled her from the cruel ocean — so brave! so heroic! — she’d been in a constant state of nervous anticipation, adrenaline jittering through her system at the mere thought of him. And when they were together . . . Hallie would have sworn that the world disappeared. This was what love felt like, she was sure of it.

“Hallie!” Grace yelled from downstairs. “Brandon’s here!”

“Just a minute!” Hallie called back. It was Friday night, the band’s big show, and Hallie was venturing up into Hollywood to go see him play. Without a driver’s license, or money for a cab, she’d found the perfect solution: Brandon, and his Jeep. Hallie quickly pulled on her boots and Dakota’s leather jacket, then smudged on another layer of dark eyeliner. Grace’s footsteps thundered on the staircase, and a moment later, she was in the doorway.

“What do you think?” Hallie twirled around, breathless. “Will he like it?”

“Brandon?”

“Ugh, no! Dakota!”

Grace rolled her eyes. “You look fine. You always look fine — when you’re not dolled up like you traveled here from nineteen fifty-two, I mean.”

Hallie gave her a look, collecting a tiny cross-body bag and her lip balm. “I just want to be perfect for him.”

Grace bit her lip.

“What?” Hallie sighed.

“Nothing,” Grace said, still reluctant. “It’s just . . . You shouldn’t rush into anything. I mean, you’ve only known him four days.”

“Five,” Hallie corrected quickly. “And time doesn’t matter. We transcend time!”

Grace didn’t seem impressed. “Just . . . don’t rush into anything. You haven’t seen a single other person since we got here: all you do is sit around waiting on him, and go on those walks.”

“Because I’ve been in recovery, after my near-death experience, or are you forgetting that?” Hallie protested. “And, hello, you aren’t exactly a social butterfly either!” She didn’t add that her friend requests and super-casual texts to Ana Lucia and Meredith had gone unanswered; their breezy party friendship failing to materialize into anything more solid. “I know plenty about him,” she argued, focusing on the real thing that mattered. The only thing. “We have talked, you know. What else do you think we’ve been doing all this time?”

There was a pause. Grace looked awkward. “But, you will be
careful,
right?”

It took Hallie a moment to realize what she meant. “Grace!”

Her sister looked equally disturbed. “He’s older, OK! And you’ve been glued together all week. I’m just saying . . .”

“Well, don’t!” Hallie pushed past her. “Never say anything about my sex life ever again!”

Hallie hurried downstairs. She’d never admit it to her sister, but the truth was, she and Dakota hadn’t even kissed, let alone . . . anything else. They’d talked for hours, exchanged a lifetime’s worth of deep, intense looks, and even, on one occasion, his hand had brushed against hers and stayed touching for a full three seconds. But beyond that? Nothing.

It was romantic. It was courtly. It was driving Hallie insane. And she was determined for it to end, tonight.

Brandon found parking along Sunset Boulevard, and walked with Hallie toward the club entrance, already marked with a snaking line of insouciant hipsters in plaid shirts and gaggles of eager teenage girls. “Thanks for the ride, but are you sure you want to stay?” Hallie checked. He’d been his usual introverted self on the drive over — all awkward abrupt statements, and nervous tapping — and somehow, he didn’t strike her as the über-cool rock-show type.

“I can check out a couple of songs.” Brandon jammed his hands into the pockets of his bulky khaki jacket. His Unabomber jacket, Hallie had secretly christened it. “Anyway, won’t you need a ride home after?”

“Dakota will take me,” Hallie told him, smoothing back her hair. “He would have given me the ride here too, but he had to be here early to do the sound check, and set up with the guys.”

“Oh.” Brandon paused. “I mean, sure, that makes sense. Listen”— he paused again —“I was thinking . . .”

“Uh-huh?” Hallie was already distracted, scanning the crowd. The club was tucked away between a neon-fronted hotel and a grimy liquor store, the lights glowing all the way down the block.

“You were talking earlier about trying to be an actress —”

“I
am
an actress,” Hallie corrected.

“Right, anyway, I was thinking you’ll need new headshots, and all of that stuff, and, well, I’ve been doing some photography . . .” Brandon trailed off. “I could help you out. If you want.”

Hallie turned and assessed him quickly. He didn’t look like a star photographer, but who knew — perhaps there was a visual genius lurking beneath that scraggly beard. “Maybe. Drop by with a portfolio or something, and I’ll take a look.”

“Great, I could come by tomorrow, or —”

“Ana Lucia!” Hallie called, spotting a familiar cascade of dark hair. She turned to Brandon. “See you later!” she told him quickly, then hurried over to where Ana Lucia was waiting with Meredith and Brie, the trio outfitted in an array of skinny denim and perfectly draped tank tops. “Hey!” she cried, excited to see familiar faces. “How are you guys?”

“Don’t even ask.” Ana Lucia scowled. She crossed her arms, metallic bracelets jangling against her chest.

“They’re saying the show’s sold out,” Meredith added, giving Hallie air-kisses on each cheek. Brie looked up from her phone, flickered a wave in Hallie’s direction, then resumed her tapping.

“The idiot on the door won’t even call the manager to get me in!” Ana Lucia exclaimed. “And I promised Reed I’d come. He’ll think I blew him off!” She craned her neck to see ahead of them in line, standing on the tiptoes of her dangerous-looking studded boots.

“Why don’t you guys just come in with me?” Hallie suggested. “I’m on the list.”

Three heads whipped around in unison. “What? You? How?” Ana Lucia exclaimed. “Sorry, I mean, I thought you just got into town?”

“I met Dakota at that party last week,” Hallie replied. “And, well . . .” She couldn’t keep the smile from spreading across her face. Ana Lucia gasped.

“No!”

“Yes.” Hallie gave a shrug, the perfect kind of nonchalant “sure, I’m dating the gorgeous rock star, no big deal” shrug that she figured this kind of situation demanded.

“You don’t wait around!” Meredith grinned, and even Brie looked up from her phone again to offer Hallie a nod of approval.

“This is perfect!” Ana Lucia linked arms with Hallie and marched them toward the head of the line. “I was going to call you to hang out anyway, but now we can get to know each other some more. You with Dakota, and me with Reed!” Ana Lucia’s face suddenly brightened with a new thought. “You can get us backstage, right?”