Just Physical (19 page)

“Crash?” Grace repeated.

“It's a nickname. She's one of the stunt performers,” Lauren said. “Actually, she's doubling for Jill.”

A knowing grin formed on Grace's lips. “Oh, so you work together very closely.”

“There's nothing going on,” Jill said.
Don't blush. Don't blush.

Grace laughed and patted Jill's leg. “Give it up. I'm an actress too, remember? I can see right through you.”

“There's nothing to see,” Jill insisted.

Lauren and Grace traded glances. “Right.”

Jill bowed her head over the box of sweet-and-sour chicken and shoveled some of it into her mouth, hoping to end the conversation.

But Grace seemed to have lost interest in her own food and was watching her instead.

Jill wanted to hurl her takeout box across the trailer and shout at them to leave her alone. Staying away from Crash was hard enough, but if her friends now started to push her toward her…

“Jill…” Grace put her hand on Jill's leg—the left one, so she felt the touch only as if through several layers of thick winter clothing. “What's going on? Talk to me. Please.”

She shoved her chopsticks into the box, nearly piercing the bottom. “I slept with her.” It was out before she could hold it back.

Silence filled the trailer for a moment.

A grin crept over Grace's face. “I knew it!” She straightened on her knees and threw her arms around Jill. “I'm so happy for you.”

Jill struggled out of the embrace. “Would you hold off on printing the wedding invitations? It was a one-time thing, nothing more.”

“Does she know that?” Grace asked softly.

“Of course,” Jill said, a little hurt that Grace would think she'd lead Crash on. “I made that clear. Very clear.”

“Hey.” Grace rubbed Jill's arm. “I'm just asking because…I never had a one-night stand bring me food.”

Jill snorted. “You never had a one-night stand, period.”

Grace tilted her head in acknowledgment. “You've got me there. But that's beside the point. I don't know Crash, but she seemed very nice, and I just thought—”

“She is nice,” Jill said. “I really like her. But as much as I'd like to, nothing is going to come out of it.” She paused and bit her lip as she mentally listened to the echo of her words.
As much as I'd like to… Goddammit, Grace! Why couldn't you leave me alone with my denial?

“Why not? You could—”

“Stop it, Grace!” She realized she was nearly shouting and lowered her voice. “This isn't up for debate. Let's just change the topic, okay?”

Grace opened her mouth, then, after a quick glance to Lauren, closed it and nodded.

Jill took several deep breaths and tried to calm her racing heart and the chaos of emotions inside of her. She took a grape from the bowl of fruit salad, then remembered that Crash had brought it for her and put it back. “So,” she said after a moment of silence, “have you decided on your next project?”

Grace stole a piece of melon from the fruit salad. “Not yet. There are three scripts that I really like. Maybe you could take a look at them when you come over for Lauren's famous hot dogs on Saturday.”

Jill blinked. “I'm coming over for hot dogs on Saturday? I wasn't aware we had decided on a day yet.”

Grace gave her the charming smile that had won her the hearts of millions of viewers. “That's because I just decided a second ago.”

Shrugging, Jill popped a piece of by-now cold chicken into her mouth and chewed. “Who am I to argue? I love Lauren's hot dogs. Besides, I could never resist a woman who offers food.”

“I noticed,” Grace said, looking at the fruit salad and the wrap Crash had brought.

“Grace…” Jill threatened her with the chopsticks.

Her friend lifted both hands. “Okay, okay. I'll shut up.”

They continued eating in silence.

Crash was sitting on the stairs of the stunt trailer with her laptop on her knees, eating her wrap and watching the pre-visualization of the fire stunt she'd have to do shortly before filming ended, when Lauren found her.

“Crash? Do you have a minute?”

She paused the 3-D animation, closed the laptop, and looked up at Lauren expectantly. “Sure.”

Lauren swept a strand of her chin-length, brown hair behind her ear, hesitated, and then perched on the step next to Crash. “Grace and I were wondering if you'd like to come over for dinner on Saturday.”

“Uh…” Crash clutched the laptop with one hand. “Come over for dinner?”

“Yeah, you know, the meal that is usually served sometime in the evening,” Lauren said with a smile.

Crash resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
Writers.
They all thought they were hilariously funny. “You're inviting me to dinner?”

“Sure, why not?”

“I don't know. It's just that Grace…Ms. Durand…”

“She's a normal, flesh-and-blood woman like you and me. Despite what the gossip rags might say, she doesn't spend her time off-set shopping in luxury boutiques or having dinner at restaurants where even the bread sticks cost more than most people make in a month.”

“I didn't think so,” Crash said. She didn't know Grace, but she had a feeling that Jill wouldn't be such close friends with her if she were one of the shallow, money-grubbing stars that were so common in Hollywood. “But why me?”

Lauren shrugged. “You're friends with Jill, so I figure you can be trusted not to lure the paparazzi to Grace's home.”

Friends with Jill… That wasn't all she wanted to be, even though she didn't yet know exactly what role she wanted to have in Jill's life.

“Besides, there aren't too many other lesbians working on the set of
Shaken to the Core
, so we thought it might be nice to get to know each other a little,” Lauren added.

Crash no longer hesitated. As far as she knew, Grace and Lauren were Jill's closest friends. Maybe she could use the get-together to ask them for help on how to break through Jill's reserve. “That sounds great. Do you want me to bring anything?”

“If you want beer, you can bring a six-pack, since we don't keep any at the cottage. It's totally casual, just hot dogs with a couple of friends.”

Did that mean she wouldn't be the only guest? Would they invite Jill too? That possibility only made her more determined. At least then Jill would have to stop avoiding her, and they might be able to talk. “Beer it is, then. So when and where?”

“How about I pick you up at home Saturday around six?” Lauren said. “The drive up to Grace's home can be a bit nerve-racking if you're not used to navigating the steep road.”

Crash chuckled. “I'm a stunt driver. I think I can manage.”

“I'm not saying you can't, but you don't have to.”

Who was she to argue with their screenwriter? “Okay. Saturday at six. I'll send my address to your studio e-mail.”

“Great. I'm looking forward to it.” Lauren stood, waved, and walked away.

Crash watched her cross the studio lot. With her tall, sturdy body, Lauren didn't look like someone who spent most of her day behind her desk.

Wow. She'd have dinner with Lauren and her superstar girlfriend. That thought wasn't what was making her heart pound, though; it was the idea of possibly having dinner with Jill and asking her for more than a one-night stand.

Blowing out a breath, she opened the laptop and pressed play on the pre-vis. An animated figure was set on fire and then ran across the screen, flames all over her body.

Crash and burn.
She hoped it wasn't a preview of what was to come on Saturday.

CHAPTER 12

The tantalizing scent of hot
dogs wafted over from the patio when Grace led Jill into the cottage.

Tramp stuck his nose in the air and let out a woof.

Jill's stomach answered with a hearty growl.

Grace laughed. “Glad to hear that your dog and your stomach approve.”

“Nothing against your hot dogs, but Tramp isn't picky when it comes to food.” Jill put the cheesecake she'd brought into the refrigerator and followed Grace to the patio, where she watched her turn the hot dogs. She shook her head with a grin. “I never thought I'd see this.”

Grace threw her a questioning glance. “See what?”

“You preparing hot dogs. Isn't junk food one of the seven deadly sins in your mother's book?”

“It's my mother's book, not mine,” Grace said with a stubborn tilt of her chin. “If she prefers not to eat hot dogs, that's fine with me, but the world won't end because I have one every once in a while.” Her lips curled into a smile. “Or two.”

Jill had never thought she'd hear that either. For a lot of years, Grace hadn't questioned her mother's advice when it came to her career, and that included what she could and couldn't eat. She walked over and gave her friend a hug. “Lauren is definitely good for you. By the way, where is Wonder Woman? I thought she's responsible for cooking the hot dogs?”

“Change of plans. She'll be back in a minute.” Grace put down the grilling tongs and headed inside, to the tiny kitchen.

Jill whistled for Tramp to follow her inside.

He hesitated, apparently reluctant to leave his place in front of the grill but then trotted after her.

“That wasn't what I asked,” Jill said.

For several moments, Grace continued to prepare the bowls of condiments as if she hadn't heard her. Finally, she turned, leaned against the counter, and examined her fingernails. “She's picking up our other guest.”

“Other guest?” Jill echoed. As far as she knew, Grace never invited anyone but Lauren and her over. The cottage up in the Santa Monica Mountains was her hideaway from the world and the paparazzi. “Who is it?”

“You'll see,” Grace said, bit into a pickle, and chewed noisily.

“Why do I have this feeling you have something evil planned?”

“Because you've worked in Hollywood for too long and became paranoid,” Grace answered. She pressed bowls of relish and onions into Jill's hands. “Here. Take this outside while I get the ketchup and the mustard.”

Jill took the bowls and whistled for Tramp to follow her back to the patio. “Come on, boy. If that other guest is someone I don't like, you can bite him or her.”

Grace laughed. “Right. The only way Tramp would ever hurt anyone is by licking them to death.”

“Hey, he can be pretty scary. Remember how you and Lauren climbed the wall surrounding my house and clung to the ivy, afraid that Tramp would get to you?” The memory of that evening made her chuckle, even though her symptoms had flared that day.

Grace groaned. “Don't remind me. I ruined my best pair of shoes. Since I made that kind of sacrifice for you, you can cope with an additional guest joining us for one night. Now get those condiments outside before I eat all the pickles.”

“All right, all right, slave driver. Tramp, come on.”

Tramp didn't have to be told twice. He followed Jill outside to where the hot dogs were.

Ugh.
Crash grabbed hold of the passenger seat. Lauren hadn't been kidding. The dirt path was bumpy, steep, and winding.

Lauren navigated it without problems, as if she had done it a thousand times before.

Just when it looked as if the dirt path would end in the middle of nowhere, the car climbed up an incline, and a lone home lay in front of them.

Instead of the luxury villa Crash had expected, it was a small, one-story house set among a grove of trees that protected it from view.

“Not what you expected?” Lauren asked with a grin.

“Uh…”

Lauren laughed. “Come on. You can admit it. I sure as hell expected something else too when Grace took me to her cottage for the first time.”

When they got out, Crash noticed that there were two cars in the driveway. One was a SUV and the other Jill's Beetle convertible.

Her steps faltered. So Jill really was here, as she had half hoped, half feared. Suddenly, she was no longer sure this had been such a good idea.

Lauren opened the door, turned toward her, and gave her a questioning look. “Is everything okay? The drive up didn't make you seasick, did it?”

“No. I'm fine. I just… Does Jill know you invited me to dinner?”

“I assume Grace told her by now.”

Which meant she hadn't known. Not a good situation. Didn't they know Jill hated being taken by surprise, leaving her vulnerable? “Lauren, I'm really not sure this is a good idea.”

“What? Having hot dogs with a bunch of movie people? Nonsense. Like I keep telling Grace, having junk food every once in a while won't kill you.”

Crash had a feeling Lauren knew she wasn't talking about the hot dogs, but she couldn't bust Lauren's innocent act without explaining what was going on between Jill and her. Even if she'd been willing to violate their privacy, she wasn't sure she could explain. No, that was for Jill and her to figure out first.

Damn.
She should have driven herself. Now she was stuck here until Lauren decided it was time to leave. Reluctantly, she followed Lauren into the cottage.

If she had expected expensive designer furniture, she would have been wrong again. A rocking chair that looked as if it had seen better days was tucked into one corner of the room. A pockmarked oak coffee table and a worn leather couch faced a wood-burning fireplace. There was no bed anywhere, but a ladder led up to a loft. A glass door offered a view of a patio surrounded by trees and bushes.

This is nice.
Crash hadn't known something like this existed just half an hour outside of LA.

Grace turned away from the fridge in the kitchenette that took up one wall of the cottage, a bottle of ketchup in her hand. “Good timing. The hot dogs should be just about ready. Welcome.”

“Thanks for having me.” Crash held out the six-pack of beer Lauren had requested, then the six-pack of nonalcoholic beer she'd brought, just in case. According to her research, most people with MS didn't do so well with alcohol. While her hostesses tried to make room in the refrigerator, Crash craned her neck. Where was Jill?

Barking came from behind the closed sliding glass door.

“Oh. You have a dog.”

Lauren shook her head. “No. It's Jill's.”

Jill has a dog?
There was still so much she didn't know about her. She hoped Jill would give her a chance to get to know much more than just her body. “Is it…a therapy dog?”

Grace shook her head. “No. I think Jill just wanted some company.”

That sounded like Jill. She had decided to live her life alone, without a human companion, so she had gotten a dog instead.

Grace pressed a bowl of shredded cheese into Crash's hands. “Why don't you take this outside and go say hello? We'll be out in a second.”

Not one to delay the inevitable, Crash marched to the glass door and peeked out.

At first, she saw neither Jill nor a dog. Then she spied a mid-sized bundle of curly, golden hair sniffing one of the old oak trees surrounding the property. If she wasn't mistaken, it was a labradoodle, a mix between a Labrador and a poodle. She had to grin at Jill's choice of pet.

Then she realized that someone was lying in the hammock tied between two oaks.

Jill.

Her eyes were closed, and she looked as relaxed as Crash had ever seen her.

Well, she looked pretty relaxed after…
Thoughts of their night in San Francisco made her smile.
Focus!
She slid back the glass door and stepped outside onto the stone patio.

The air smelled of sagebrush and hot dogs. The city noise was absent; only the chirping of crickets and bird song drifted over.

The dog cocked its head and then whirled around and rushed over. Its fluffy tail was wagging, so Crash wasn't worried.

“Tramp!” Jill called sharply. “Come here!”

The labradoodle stopped abruptly. After a longing glance toward Crash, he turned and ran to Jill's side.

Jill put one foot on the ground. She struggled for a moment to make it safely out of the hammock.

All of Crash's instincts urged her to hurry over and help her, but she held herself back, knowing Jill wouldn't want to be rescued like a turtle lying helplessly on its back.

Finally, Jill made it to her feet. “Sorry about that. He's not—” She turned toward the house and only then got a glimpse of Crash.

They stood staring at each other.

Crash clutched the bowl of shredded cheese. “I'm sorry. I thought they told you they invited me.”

“No. It seems they forgot. Apparently, I'm not the only one with an occasional lapse in memory,” Jill muttered.

“Sorry. They invited me and I—”

“I get it,” Jill said. “Any lesbian between eighteen and eighty would give her right arm to have dinner with Grace Durand, so how could you say no?”

Crash looked her in the eyes. She wanted her to know how much she meant what she was about to say, “I'm not here because of Grace. I was kinda hoping you'd be here.”

Jill tightly folded her arms across her chest, as if warding off the impact of Crash's words. “I'm here,” she said but didn't sound happy about it.

In the silence between them, the dog's whining sounded overly loud.

Well, at least someone was eager to greet her. “Do you…want me to leave?” Not that she could, even if she wanted, since she didn't have her car. But this was about so much more than just staying for hot dogs.

“No,” Jill said. “We're both adults. Just because we don't want a relationship doesn't mean we can't share a meal every now and then. I mean, we've had lunch together on the set a dozen times, so there's nothing to it, right?”

Was it really that easy for her? Or was she trying to convince herself as much as Crash? “Right,” Crash said with some hesitation.

The glass door, which Crash had closed behind her, slid open. Their hostesses joined them on the patio and put a basket of buns on the table.

Jill walked over and gripped Grace's elbow. “Let me help you get the drinks.”

“It's all right,” Grace said. “You sit and relax. Lauren can help me.”

“No. I'll help. Lauren can stay out here, get the hot dogs off the grill, and entertain your surprise guest.” Jill nearly dragged her back inside.

Tramp tried to follow, but he wasn't fast enough. The door slid closed before his nose, so he instead took the opportunity to greet Crash.

While petting him with one hand, Crash peered into the cottage. God, she would pay good money to hear what was spoken inside.

“What the hell are you doing?” Jill asked as soon as the glass door clicked shut.

Slowly, Grace turned around and gave her a doe-eyed look of innocence. “Doing?”

But Jill had been in two movies with Grace, so she knew when her friend was acting. “You know exactly what I mean.”

“I'm just having dinner with friends.”

“Friends? Since when is Crash your friend? You don't even know her!”

“That's how you get to know people and make new friends—by inviting them to dinner.”

“Cut the bullshit, Grace!” Jill realized she was shouting and snapped her mouth shut. She peeked toward the patio, hoping Crash hadn't heard her, and lowered her voice. “You really expect me to believe you invited her and me over at the same time, without any ulterior motives?”

Grace threw her hands up. “Okay. I admit it. I had an ulterior motive. I want you to be happy. Is that so wrong?”