Girls on Film (7 page)

“Dee, please don’t go all New Age on me. I’m so not in the mood.” Cammie headed back to the Polo Lounge with Dee in her wake. “What I think we should do is—wait a minute.”

“For what?” Dee asked, confused.

Cammie nodded toward the hotel front desk, where someone had just caught her eye. Someone lithe, blond, and effortlessly lovely. “Look at that. Well, well, well.”

“Anna Percy.”

“Yep.” Cammie’s venom toward Anna was palpable. Cammie wanted Ben; Anna had Ben. It was that simple. Cammie had simply never lost at love before.

“Why would Anna be checking in?” Dee wondered.

Cammie’s cat eyes gleamed and a smile curled on her lips. “Maybe there’s more to Little Miss East Coast Preppie than meets the eye.”

“Who do you think she’s with?” Dee whispered.

“Maybe it’s her girlfriend.”

Dee would never have guessed. “You think?”

“You never know,” Cammie said, chuckling.

Dee wasn’t sure if Cammie was serious or joking.

Before Dee could probe, Cammie was already walking across the lobby directly toward Anna and the mystery girl. Dee had no choice but to follow her.

“Anna!” Cammie said gaily. “How great to run into you!”

“Hi, Anna!” Dee chimed in, throwing her diminutive arms around Anna’s neck. “This is so cool! Gee, what are you doing here?”

Anna’s reaction to Cammie was impassive. So much so, Dee couldn’t tell what Anna was feeling at all. But she was sure of one thing—it definitely wasn’t joy.

“Hello, Cammie. Dee.”

“Who’s your friend?” Cammie asked slyly.

“This is my sister, Susan,” Anna said. “Susan, Cammie Sheppard and Delia Young. We go to school together.”

Dee knew it! No way was Anna a lesbian. Her energy was one hundred percent heterosexual.

“Poor you, school sucks,” Susan said cheerfully.

“Miss Percy? Here are the keys to your bungalow.” The handsome man behind the front desk handed Susan an envelope. “Will you be needing another set?”

“Yes,” Susan said. “My sister’s staying with me.”

“No, I’m not,” Anna objected, her voice low.

“Yeah, you are,” Susan said, and the desk clerk instantly handed her a second envelope, which she slapped into Anna’s palm. “So, we were just about to slip into bikinis, hang by the pool, and see who makes us drool. Care to join us?”

“You know, that is such a great idea!” Cammie said.

“Um, Cammie?” Dee began, wondering why in the world Cammie would want to spend part of the evening with a girl she despised. “Those guys are waiting for us—”

“Forget them. I’d much rather hang out with Anna and Susan.” Cammie flashed her most charming smile at Susan. “Just give us a minute. Dee and I will go downstairs to the Promenade—they’ve got some decent shops down there, and we’ll get some cute bikinis. Then we’ll meet you at the pool, okay?”

“Great,” Susan said. “Whichever one of us gets hit on the least buys dinner.”

Cammie laughed. “Anna, I really like your sister. This will be fun—a chance to get to know each other better. So, we’ll see you in a little bit.”

“Catch.” Susan tossed the two tiny pieces of a crocheted tangerine-colored bikini across the bungalow’s bedroom. They fell at Anna’s feet. “I can’t wear this one until I lose some weight. I swear, you could snort lines off my ass. But it’ll look great on you. For which I hate you, by the by.”

Anna sat on the edge of the four-poster mahogany bed, making no effort to retrieve the bikini. “Susan, listen. I really have no desire to hang out with those girls. I don’t like them. Neither will you.”

Susan was pawing through one of her valises. “Why not?”

“They’re awful, that’s why.”

“Aha!” Susan extracted a more conservative black Anika Brazil halter two-piece and held it aloft triumphantly.

“Seriously, Sooz,” Anna went on. “They’re superficial. And bitchy.”

“Sounds like half the people we grew up with,” Susan said as she stepped out of her Seven jeans.

“That’s not true and you know it.”

“Oh, come on. I mean, I realize a girl as perfect as you are has very high standards, but lighten up a little. We’re hanging out at the pool, not getting married.”

“It’s just that I worry about you, Sooz,” Anna said. “There’s a bar there.”

“I keep telling you, I’m fine. Clean and sober, walking the straight and narrow, Your Honor.”

“But if rehab helps you …”

“Hey, I’m Jane Percy’s daughter,” Susan said lightly. “I can help myself.” She gave Anna a quick hug. “Come on. Don’t be mad. You’re one of the only people in this whole messed-up world who I love, Anna.”

“Ditto,” Anna said, hugging her sister back.

“Okay, then. Enough with the love fest.” Susan slipped into the halter. “Fortunately any weight I put on above the waist went to my tits. How does this look? Great, right?”

Susan did look pretty fantastic. Too fantastic to be sequestered away from the pool by an overprotective little sister.

By the time Anna and Susan reached the pool, a crescent moon had risen high above the hotel, and a downy blanket of steam covered the heated pool itself. They found four unoccupied chaise longues—they had their pick, as the well-lit pool area was largely deserted except for the outdoor bar/restaurant against the far wall. Instantly a waiter was at their side. “Good evening. Can I bring you ladies anything?”

“Rum and Coke,” Susan ordered.

Anna paled.

“Kidding,” Susan added quickly, rolling her eyes. “Hold the rum.”

“A bottle of Evian, thanks,” Anna told the waiter

“Now, this is more like it.” Susan stretched out thankfully as the waiter went to retrieve their drinks. “No snow. No toilets to clean. No fat-ass therapist telling me how screwed up I am because of my family of origin but that it doesn’t matter because I have an opportunity now to take charge of my life.”

“Did he really say that?”

“He was a she, and hell, yes. It’s such crapola. Oh my God, Anna, look over there.” Susan nudged her chin toward the other side of the pool, where two good-looking guys chatted away on their cells. Plates of untouched sushi sat on a table between them.

“So?” Anna asked.

“What planet are you on? That’s Alex Souter and Noah Monahan.”

“Who are they?”

“Didn’t you see the Oscars? They won a best screenplay award together. And Alex, the taller one with the dark hair, just starred in a big Christmas action movie—I forget the name. But he was smoking. Noah, the blond, is turning to producing.”

It struck Anna as a significant accomplishment to have won an Academy Award for best screenplay. Not the level of a PEN/Faulkner Award for literature, but still. It would be interesting to be with a guy like that. Her best friend, Cyn, back in New York, would have already sauntered right over and introduced herself. Ten minutes later they’d probably have been making out in the Jacuzzi—all three of them.

I could be that girl
, Anna thought. The word
audacious
came to mind. Yes. She could be audacious. In control and audacious.

The waiter was at the pool bar. Anna excused herself and went to him, explained what she wanted, then returned to her chaise longue.

Susan eyed her, eyebrows raised. “What did you just do?”

“I just sent—what are their names again?”

“Those guys? Alex Souter and Noah Monahan.”

“Right.” Anna stretched out on the chaise. “I just sent them drinks.”

“Get out!” Susan said, laughing. “You did not. You’ve never done anything remotely like that in your entire life.”

“That,” Anna said, “is exactly the point of my being out here.”

Still, Anna’s stomach fluttered as she waited for the drinks to be delivered. She was keeping her eyes on the two famous guys, she hoped without being obvious about it, when Cammie and Dee entered the pool area and walked right over to them. The guys halted their conversations to take in the sight of Cammie in her white Vix bikini. Its low-cut mesh top emphasized the perfect 34D breasts she’d purchased; the minute bottom was held together by strings. Dee sported an Anna Sui blue-and-yellow gingham bikini that showed off the results of hundreds of spinning classes and yoga sessions. To Anna and Susan’s surprise, the guys put down their phones and started a conversation with Cammie and Dee.

Susan nudged Anna. “Tour friends
know
those guys?”

“They’re not my friends. And
we
had the secretary general of the UN to a dinner party in Mom’s brown-stone. I’d say that’s quite a bit more impressive.”

“I wouldn’t,” Susan said.

At that moment the waiter delivered Anna’s drinks to Noah and Alex. He set the two tall glasses garnished with mint leaves in front of them, then cocked his chin toward Anna to show they were from her.

“What did you send them?” Susan asked.

“Iced tea.”

“Long Island iced tea, I hope.”

“The nonalcoholic kind,” Anna admitted, blushing. Noah and Alex were looking over at her now. That part was fine. The problem was, so were Cammie and Dee. Cammie laughed and said something to Noah and Alex, which made them chuckle. The guys eyed Anna again and hoisted their drinks in a salute.

Smile
, she told herself.
Smile flirtatiously. Because what the hell
.

Cammie and Dee headed for Anna and Susan, Alex and Noah in tow. Which was not exactly how Anna had envisioned this encounter turning out. But then, how could she have known that Cammie and Dee knew the two writers?

“Oh my God, Alex and Noah are heading over here,” Susan hissed. She sucked in her stomach and tossed her hair over one eye. Anna didn’t do anything at all except wait and feel slightly ridiculous.

“Well, well, you two look comfy,” Cammie commented, stepping out of her strappy sandals. “We brought friends along.”

“So I see.” Susan smiled up at the famous guys. “Hi. I’m Susan.”

“Hey. I’m Alex and this is Noah,” Alex said, flashing the smile that apparently had sold millions of movie tickets. He sat on the edge of Cammie’s chaise.

“We know,” Susan said. “I loved your movie.”

“Thanks.” Noah’s gaze went to Anna. “And thanks for the drinks.”

“You’re welcome,” Anna replied. And couldn’t think of another word to say.

“Do you have a name?” Alex added playfully, squatting down next to Anna’s chaise.

“Yes. Right. Sorry.” Anna sat up. “I’m Anna Percy.” She extended her hand to shake his.

He seemed amused by her formality. “Did you like our movie, too, Anna Percy?”

“To tell you the truth, I didn’t see it,” Anna confessed.

Alex cracked up. “Trust you to find the one girl in America who didn’t see it,” Noah teased.

“So, how do you guys know each other?” Susan asked Cammie.

“My dad’s their agent,” Cammie said nonchalantly, stretching out on a chaise on the other side of Susan. “They were at our place for a barbecue the day after Christmas.”

“Where was I?” Susan mock moaned.

“If you’re around next time, I’ll invite you,” Cammie promised.

Susan beamed. “Great.”

Noah put his fist to his heart, as if Anna had just wounded him. “You know how to hurt a guy.”

“If I’d known I was going to meet you, I would have seen it,” Anna explained.

She seemed to amuse him. “About a hundred million people saw it because they
wanted
to see it.”

Anna reddened. “I don’t go to the movies all that much.”

“Gee, why not?” Dee asked.

“Most of them aren’t very good,” Anna said.

“Oh yeah, dig yourself in even deeper,” Cammie hooted.

“Well, clearly I have to do something about this,” Noah decided. He picked up the courtesy phone on the small table between the chaise longues. “Hi, this is Noah Monahan. … No, everything is fine, thanks. Listen, can you arrange to have
Piper’s Dream
set up in my bungalow? Now would be great. Thanks. Ciao.” He hung up and turned to Anna, wiggling his eyebrows in a Groucho Marx imitation while pretending to hold a cigar. “Come along, my dear. I’ve arranged a private screening.”

Anna was momentarily flustered. “Um, I—”

He dropped the Groucho thing. “Hey, you’re not really going to turn down a private screening of my movie, are you?”

Was she? And if she was, then why had she sent him drinks? It wasn’t like she was in any danger. She was at the Beverly Hills Hotel, for God’s sake. But what about Adam?

What about him?
Anna thought.
I like him. A lot. But it’s not like we’re engaged
.

“Of course not,” Anna agreed.

“Get down, sis,” Susan exclaimed, egging her on.

Noah held out a hand and hoisted Anna to her feet. Standing, she was just slightly taller than he was. He had open blue eyes, tousled blond hair, and a toothy, boyish grin. She slipped her cover-up on over her bathing suit. Noah looked down at Anna’s feet, clad in casual Chanel leather sandals. “Great sandals,” he said.

Which was odd. Because they were actually rather ordinary, albeit extremely well made. She’d had them forever. But maybe he just wanted to find a unique way to compliment her, Anna figured.

“Thanks,” she said.

“Okay, so let’s go.” He reached for her hand again.

Anna held back. “But how can they possibly find the movie and get it ready this quickly?”

He grinned at her. “Anna Percy, that’s what they do here: make us happy.”

“And now you’re going to make each other happy,” Cammie chimed, dripping insinuation.

Anna felt like making a public disclaimer: “No. I am not going to Noah Monahan’s bungalow to have sex.” But she forced herself to keep her mouth shut.

“Susan, I’ll meet you back here in—” Anna looked over at Noah. “How long is it?

“An hour fifty-two. Unless they got the director’s cut, which runs thirty minutes longer.”

The notion of leaving Susan alone with Cammie did not fill Anna with confidence. But she couldn’t very well hover over Susan like a bodyguard. Besides, she told herself, the Noah encounter was exactly the kind of thing she’d come to California for. Sort of.

“So you’re okay?” she asked her sister.

Susan waved her off. “I’m fine.”

“You two go bare your souls to each other,” Cammie said with a grin. “I’ll take really good care of your sister.”