Grace Unplugged: A Novel (18 page)

Kendra sat down next to her now. “Look, Sally,” she said gently. “This girl needs a little coaching. Mind if I help out some more?”

“Not at all.” Sally made a tired sigh. “Someone needs to pump some life into it.”

So now, with Kendra at her side, and with Grace’s eyes fixed on the bouquet of roses, not Quentin, they tried it again. This time Grace made an effort to be more engaging and interesting and, thanks to Kendra’s quick wit and support, she made it through the interview with what Mossy said were “flying colors.” Unfortunately, she knew that some of the colors she’d flown with were shading the truth a bit. But, really, she gave them what they wanted, didn’t she? Who could fault her with that?

Chapter 15

G
etting ready for her second date with Jay, Grace felt much more relaxed. As before, he picked her up at her apartment, but this time he just called her from down on the street. “I don’t really like to leave my car out here.” He explained. “Not that I don’t like your neighborhood, but I do like my car.”

“No problem,” she told him. However, as she went down the stairs, she couldn’t help but feel slighted. Did he like his car more than he liked her? Yet, when she saw his brilliant smile and as he opened the door for her, pausing to compliment her dress, all reservations about Prince Charming vanished.

“Thanks for the roses,” she told him as he drove off fast. “They’re absolutely beautiful.”

He gave her a slightly bewildered look but quickly recovered. “American beauties for an American beauty.”

She stretched her arms out, catching the warm night air in her hands. “What a gorgeous evening!”

“A great end to a great week,” he added. Once again Jay gave her the lowdown of his workday. Fortunately, it seemed to have been a better one than his day on their last date. In fact, he seemed to be flying high.

They went to the same restaurant as before, and the same two valets met them, treating them like royalty, and this time they even knew who Grace was. Naturally, that made her walk tall as they went inside. She could so get used to this. Once again they were ushered off into the private lounge, and Jay simply motioned the waiter, and it seemed like less than a minute before two drinks were placed in front of them. A Cîroc-tini with three olives for her and a Black Bull for Jay.

“That’s what I call service, Bobby.” Jay winked at him as he lifted his drink to Grace. “Here’s to another great evening with the most beautiful girl in Hollywood.”

She felt her cheeks warm as she lifted her drink. And, as she took a sip, she tried not to think about the photos that were posted on Sally Benson’s blog right now or the caption insinuating that Gracie Trey was turning into a party girl. One little martini with your date did not mean you were ready for celebrity rehab. It was simply a fun way to wind down after a week of hard work. And she had worked hard this week. Between publicity appearances at radio stations and another show last night, she needed a break. Besides that, she was supposed to be working on her new song, but she did not want to think about that tonight.

As a result, when Jay waved to Bobby for another round, she didn’t even protest. Why not? She’d worked hard; she deserved to have some fun. She gazed into his handsome face and sighed. “How does it feel to be at the top of your game?” she asked him with what she knew was bordering on adoration.

He beamed back at her. “Well, I’m not sure I’m at the top of my game just yet.”

“But you’re one of the hottest TV stars, Jay. Everyone knows who you are.”

He nodded. “That’s true. But maybe I want more than TV.”

“Movies?”

He shrugged. “Sure, why not.”

“You’d be totally awesome up there on the big screen, Jay. Really, you would.” She could feel her head swirling a bit but didn’t want him to know. “I would gladly buy a theater ticket to watch you.”

He laughed. “You, my darling, would not have to buy a ticket.”

She laughed too. “Well, thank you—thank you very much.”

“Elvis fan?” he teased.

Suddenly she realized she’d actually been imitating her dad, imitating Elvis, but she simply nodded. “Yeah.” She held up her nearly empty martini glass. “Here’s to the king of rock and roll.”

He held up his glass. “And here’s to the new queen of rock and roll—Miss Gracie Trey.”

Now she felt slightly worried. “Oh, Jay, do you really think I’ll ever make it that big?” she asked.

“Sure you will. You’re already on your way. A hit single. A video coming out soon. And Sapphire begging you for an album.”

She frowned as she took a sip. Had she actually said that? That Sapphire was
begging
? Sure, they were asking her for her next song . . . but begging? No, she didn’t think so.

“But I
have
to make it,” she said urgently. “I mean I just
have
to. . . . I can’t go back.” For some unexplainable reason—unless it was the booze and an empty stomach—she felt very close to tears now. Or like she was in the midst of climbing a tall mountain but couldn’t get beyond halfway to the top.

“You will make it, Gracie. You’re a star. Everyone can see it.”

“You really think so?” She looked hopefully at him.

“No question.” He nodded to her empty glass. “Let me get you a fresh one.”

“Oh, I shouldn’t.”

“No, it’s cool.” He waved to Bobby, holding up two fingers for the next round. Then he looked back at Grace with an intensity that caught her off guard. And suddenly she felt the need to fill the air with conversation.

“You know what’s scary,” she said quietly, “is they’ve still only signed me to the single.”

He looked surprised. “I didn’t know that.”

“Yeah, and if it doesn’t
trend
, then, well, who knows.”

“But it’s on the radio all the time. Must be doing good.” Bobby set the next round in front of them, removing the empty glasses.

“It started off so great. But now my manager tells me the downloads are flat.” She picked up the fresh martini and held it up, peering at the wavy looking liquid and three green olives. “Flat. Flat. Flat.” She shook her head. “That’s all he says.”

“Really?” Jay’s brow creased with concern.

“Yeah, he tells me not to worry, but . . .” She rolled her eyes dramatically. “Oh, yeah, and then there’s my follow-up song.” She let out a loud groan.

“What’s wrong with it?”

She leaned forward now, like she was telling him a huge secret. “Okay, now you can’t tell
anyone
this. But I’m s’posed to write this follow-up song, you know, if ‘Misunderstood’ does good enough and everything. ’Cause I told them I was a writer. . . .” She waved a warning finger in front of his face, but it was all starting to look a little blurry. “But—and I’m serious—you can’t tell anyone. . . .
I lied
.” She grimly shook her head. “I
never
wrote a song in my life. Not a good one anyway.” Now she threw back her head and laughed like this was the funniest thing in the world. Jay laughed too.

“And it’s not like I don’t try,” she told him with slurred-sounding words. “I do. I try my hardest. Problem is I jus’ can’t do it.”

“Just do another one of you dad’s songs,” he suggested. “It’ll be like your own thing.”

“No!” She shook her head so hard that she saw two Jays instead of one. “That’s the
last
thing I want.”

“Why? What’s wrong with your dad?”

She just laughed. “What’s not wrong with him?” She held up a finger. “First of all, he
hates
what I’m doing.”

“Get out.”

“Well, not what I’m doing. But
how
I’m doing it . . . and everything.” She took another sip and felt the tears coming again. Why was she being such a baby about this?

“What do you mean by
everything
?” he asked with what seemed like concerned eyes, like maybe he was the only one on the whole planet who really cared for her.

“I mean . . . I get that he just wants the best for me and everything. . . . But it’s my life, you know?”

“Uh-huh.”

“It’s like his baby girl’s not a baby anymore.”

Jay nodded eagerly. “That’s for sure.”

“But in his mind I turned on him . . . and God . . . and everything. But I didn’t really . . . you know? It’s just that, well, maybe I was just never that into the God thing. Not as much as Dad thought I was.” She looked at him with tear-filled eyes, trying to explain her feelings, her inadequacies where her father is concerned. She wondered if Jay really understood the depth of what she was saying. “You know?”

He looked slightly unsure, and she knew she was making him uncomfortable with her emotional display. What was wrong with her? “I’m sorry,” she said as she used a cocktail napkin to blot her tears. “I don’ know wha’s wrong with me. I pro’bly said too much.”

Jay reached across the table and stroked her bare arm. Gently he moved his hand up and down, nodding as if he really did understand. “It’s all good,” he assured her. “All good, you know? You can tell me anything. It’s okay, Gracie.” He set some money on the table, then reached for her hand. “Hey, listen, let’s get out of here. Too many eyes watching us.”

“Oh, yeah.” She stood slowly, surprised that her legs felt slightly rubbery.

With his arm linked securely in hers, he was leading her out now. “Let’s head to my place. You can tell me more about it there. Without anyone listening in on us.”

She nodded, thinking that was a good idea. The last thing she needed was to read about this in Sally’s next blog. But after they were in the car, driving with the top down and the fresh air on her face, she realized that going home with Jay was not such a good idea. Especially considering how lightheaded she was feeling. How many martinis had she had? And what had happened to dinner?

“Uh, Jay,” she began uneasily as he stopped at a red light. “I, uh, I don’t think I should go to your place after all.”

“Why not?” He peered curiously at her. “The night’s still young.” He reached over and put his hand on her knee. “And I know you need to talk, baby. And I’m a good listener.”

She nodded. “I know. But I shouldn’t. I have to get up early . . . and . . . I’m not feeling too good, you know? I should probably just go home.”

The light changed, and he removed his hand from her knee, gunning the engine and driving too fast through the intersection. He didn’t say a word as he drove her back to her apartment. She didn’t even remember going up the stairs or getting into bed. But the next morning, she woke up in her own bed . . . alone.

Grace sat up in bed, listening to what sounded like a knock at the door, but what really got her attention was the pounding in her head. Now she heard a jingle of keys, and Kendra was calling out to her. Grace flopped back onto her pillow, holding her head with her hands in an attempt to stop the pounding.

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty.” Kendra came into her bedroom.

Grace forced herself to sit up again, still holding onto both sides of her head. “What time is it?” she asked.

“Ten o’clock. Must’ve been a fun night. But I am determined to finish today. So out of bed, sleepyhead.”

Grace groaned as she shoved her feet out of bed and planted them onto the floor. “Oh . . .” She moaned, putting a hand back to her forehead.

“Looks like someone had a little too much fun.” Kendra peered at her. “Having a little hangover, are we?”

Grace frowned. “Don’t know about you, but I’ve had better mornings.”

Kendra pointed toward the bathroom. “You get into the shower, and I’ll get something to help you.”

Grace shuffled toward the bathroom, but each step felt like someone had tied weights to her ankles. Eventually the water was pouring over her throbbing head, and it helped a little, but she still felt lousy when she got out. Why did people drink so much that they felt sick the next day? Why had she?

“Here you go,” Kendra handed a bottle of water and an aspirin through the bathroom door. “Drink the whole thing. You’re probably dehydrated. That’s what gives you a headache.”

Grace did as she was told. Then with her hair wrapped in a towel and wearing her terry robe, she came out to where Kendra was laying out some clothes. “Go get yourself some juice,” Kendra said. “Get your blood sugar up.”