Movie Lovers (13 page)

“We have to.” Grace tugged the bedclothes
down. Jake covered his face with his hands before grabbing the sheet. The two naked
lovers tussled in a game of tug of war, laughing and giggling. Jake won as he
yanked all the coverings completely off the bed and rolled over on top of
Grace.

He placed a hard kiss on her mouth. “I
win! Winner gets to choose next activity.”

“Like I don’t know what you’ll
pick?” She cocked an eyebrow at him.

“If you guessed making love, you’d
be right.” By ten thirty, they were entering the empty dance studio.
Dorrie
greeted them with a frown. “Hey, I expected you guys
an hour ago.” She rested her hand on her hip. Grace lowered her gaze as she
sensed heat in her cheeks.

“Oh. I get it. Something else was
more…
pressing
?” She giggled. Grace
glanced at Jake, whose face was red as a
beet
.

“Start the music!” She raced over to
the player and put in their Strauss CD.

“Waltz? I thought you’d mastered
that. How’s the samba coming?”
Dorrie
turned her
attention back to the dance.

Jake pulled Grace into position
before he answered, “We’ve nailed samba. Now, waltz.” He twirled Gracie around
the room in perfect sync to the music. After an hour, they took a break.

“You two are naturals. You’re such
perfect partners, I’d swear you’re sleeping together,” she chuckled. Grace
checked her phone and found seven messages from Tiffany Cowles. Excusing
herself, Grace fled to the ladies room to view the texts. Leaning against the
cool white tile wall, she cringed as each one got angrier and more hostile than
the one before.

A nice review? What are
you thinking?

This stinks. It’s so
sweet it’s attracting ants.

I’m not publishing this
crap. You can do better.

If you don’t stop
sending this garbage, there will be consequences.

My eyes hurt from all
the sweet crap in your review.

This is unprofessional.
I’m not publishing it.

Lauding your
boyfriend’s performance isn’t very professional. Stop this nonsense and send me
what I want. How would your BF feel if he found out who Movie Maven really is?

At the last message, Grace gave out
a little gasp.
She wouldn’t, would she?

“What’s the matter?”
Dorrie
stood in the doorway, looking concerned.

“Nothing, nothing.” Grace quickly closed
her phone.

“Then finish up. I’ve got a class
coming in fifteen minutes.” Gracie nodded and returned to Jake. But her pulse
was beating wildly, and her palms were sweating. She wiped her hands on her
leotard before clasping Jake’s.

“Are you okay? You look pale.”

“I’m fine. Let’s go. Only fifteen
minutes then we have to leave.”
Dorrie
flipped on the
music, and the pair whirled around the dance floor, executing the perfect
Viennese Waltz. Grace found it hard to focus at first as fear coursed through
her veins.
Tiffany would never do that.
She’s bluffing.
Certain in her belief that Tiffany Cowles had a heart,
Grace relaxed, focusing her attention on Jake, their dance steps, and the beat.

The day passed quickly. Again that
evening during the performance, Grace slipped into Cara’s dressing room and
posted her glowing review of
Driving
Force
on Movie Maven’s blog. Though she only managed a post a week there,
she had a big following.

A grin stole across her face as she
exercised her own power to post this rave in spite of Tiffany.
She doesn’t own me. Fine. Don’t publish it.
I’ll publish it myself. Not as many people will see it, but enough.
Checking
her watch, she scurried back to her place in the wings.
Must get back before Jake misses me.

She slid into her seat a few seconds
before Jake’s exit. His warm smile was her reward for being quick. “Good house
tonight. Real good,” he muttered to her as he squeezed her shoulder and turned,
waiting for his cue to return to the stage.

On their way home from the theater,
they decided to stop at Grant’s favorite Italian restaurant,
Trieste,
for pasta
.
After a glass of wine, Jake took Grace’s hand. “I passed your
script on to Quinn. I hope you don’t mind.”

“You did? Why?”

“Because I thought it was great.
Really good. His wife is a close friend of Max Webster. Anyway, wanted to get
his opinion.”

“The show’s producer? Quinn’s too busy
to read it…”

“He said he’d start it on Monday.”

“Oh. God. Hope he likes it.” She put
her head in her hands.

“He will. You’re good.” The waiter
brought a platter of rigatoni with a tomato sauce and big chunks of sausage and
placed it between them. They dug into the food like they hadn’t eaten in years.
Grace concentrated on Jake’s new stories about Willow Falls and pushed the
nagging fear that Tiffany would act on her threat out of her mind.
I deserve to enjoy my time with Jake. Not to
worry all the time.

Jake’s phone rang. “It’s Quinn.
Better take it.” He put down his fork. After a brief conversation he hung up,
smiling.

“What?” She asked, taking another
forkful from the platter.

“Seems as if I finally did something
right.”

“And what would that be?”

“
Driving
Force.
The Movie Maven gave it a rave review. Quinn read her comments about
me. Maybe you’d better look out. I could love a woman who said those things.”
He chuckled.

You
already do.
Grace leaned over and kissed him. “I’m glad you got a good
review.”

“My ego could use a little stroking
after the beating I took from her.”

“I’d love to read it. Like to know
my competition,” she joked.

“No competition for you, baby,” he
whispered and returned her kiss.

* * * *

Grace loved Monday the most because
it was Jake’s day off. They lingered in bed—no rehearsal, no show. The day was
spent being together, shopping, exploring the museum, and trying out new
restaurants. Jake was generous, taking her to expensive shops and tony eateries,
always picking up the tab.

She was embarrassed when he spent
money on her, but he seemed to enjoy it. Life resembled her version of a
fairytale. While she expected Cara to end up with the perfect marriage and an
adoring husband, she never thought she’d have a relationship that could
compare.

Their couple-
dom
did not go unnoticed. Once Tiffany Cowles was on their trail, so was every
other paparazzi in town. They were photographed dining out, shopping, strolling
down Central Park West to Cara’s and almost every place else, including leaving
Dorrie’s
dance studio.

While Jake was accustomed to
photographers and understood how important publicity was for his career, shy
Gracie had yet to adjust. Red spots appeared in front of her eyes for hours after
flashes went off in her face. She didn’t know how to anticipate the photos and
was often caught in an unflattering pose or expression.

Jake laughed about her naiveté and
tried to smooth her ruffled feathers, so she determined to become as adept at
he was at handling unexpected photo-ops. They bought the newspapers and had a
contest to see who could find their pictures first in each one.

On this Saturday evening after the
show, as they were leaving their building to grab a Sunday Times newspaper,
they were surprised by four photographers all from different papers. Jake took
Grace’s hand and smiled at the cameras.

“Smile, Gracie,” he hissed between
clenched teeth. Before she could change her expression, Mark from
Celebs ’R Us
stepped forward, turned to
her and, in a loud voice, said, “Hey, look. It’s the Movie Maven!”

“Where?” Jake asked, turning his
head to the left then back again.

Grace froze for a second. Ice
surrounded her heart. She tightened her grip on Jake’s hand and started to run.
“
Psst
, Jake, this way,” she whispered.

“Don’t run from me, Movie Maven. Let
me get a nice shot of you and your boyfriend…the one you slammed in my paper,
Celebs ’R Us?
” He took a picture, the
flash temporarily blinding Grace.

Jake halted in his tracks. He pulled
Grace to him. “You’re not? You can’t be? Please tell me he’s joking!” The
pleading look in Jake’s eyes tore out her heart. She had no breath for an
answer.

“Jake Matthews meet Grace Brewster,
A.K.A. the Movie Maven,” the reporter said.

“No, no, it can’t be. Say it isn’t
true, Gracie,” Jake begged her as he gripped her arms hard. Grace’s pulse beat wildly.
Her mouth went dry as she searched her mind for a way out. The photographer
stood by, waiting to take his next photo.

“Do you mind? I’d like to have a
private conversation with my girl,” Jake snapped.

“Hey, this is a public street,
buddy. If you want private, go somewhere else.” Jake made a fist and took a
threatening step toward the photographer, who raised his hands. “Hey, I just
take pictures. It’s her you want to sock.”

Grace pulled on his arm. Pain
squeezed her heart. She couldn’t let Jake get into a fist fight over her.
“Stop, Jake. Please. I can explain,” she said in a quiet voice. The look of
shock on his face crushed her courage. Mark snapped several photos while the
couple froze in their positions. Jakes eyes searched hers. She blinked back
tears and took a shaky breath. “I…”

“You’ve been the Movie Maven all
this time?”

She nodded once. “But I can
explain.”

He continued as if he hadn’t heard
her, “And you didn’t tell me?” The flashes kept flashing. Jake finally turned
to the crowd and chased them halfway down the block. When he returned, fury
shot from his eyes, his expression stormy.

“Grace Brewster, how could you?” He
came at her aggressively, his voice seething, his anger barely controlled.

She backed away in fear, her eyes
wide. “Please…it was meant for Gunther…”

“I’m not talking about what you
wrote…but you didn’t tell me. Kept this secret…a damn big secret…from me.”

“I thought you’d be upset…and see, I
was right.” He grabbed her arms and gripped her tight. “
Ow
,
you’re hurting me.” The fury on his face calmed for a second as he loosened his
grip slightly.

“We’re living together…almost
engaged, and you don’t tell me something this big? How can I trust you? What
else are you keeping from me? Maybe a marriage or two? Do you have any
other
secret identities?”

She shook her head vigorously. “No
secrets, no marriages, no identities.”

“How can I believe you?”

“You can, Jake, I didn’t mean to
hurt you, I…”

“A scathing review aimed right at me,
and you don’t tell me you wrote it. You didn’t mean to hurt me? You expect me
to believe that?”

“I do, I do. Please.” Tears could no
longer be controlled as she watched his expression turn from white-hot rage to ice.

“I think you’d better stay at Cara’s
tonight.”

“Won’t you let me explain?”

“There’s nothing to explain. You
wanted to hurt Gunther and me. And you did. And you lied to me…”

“I didn’t lie. I never said I
wasn’t…”

“Don’t play word games with me,
Grace. You lied by not coming clean. Now I can’t trust you. And what a vengeful
thing to do over…I don’t know. I don’t know you. Thought I did, thought you
were a kind, caring, sweet woman…but I was wrong.”

Jake dropped his hands and shoved
them in the pockets of his pants. As he backed away from her, she saw the cold expression
on his face melt away only to be replaced by a look of hurt. “I trusted you.
You betrayed that trust.”

Grace wiped her tears. “Please give
me a chance.”

He shook his head slowly before
turning his back on her and walking toward his apartment. Grace stood alone on
the dark street, sobs wracking her body. She lifted a shaking arm to flag down
a taxi on Broadway. Fumbling in her purse, she finally located a clean tissue.
As she was wiping her face, a cab stopped. She got in and gave Cara’s address.

As the car sped up Broadway, Grace
turned to look for Jake. They passed him, allowing Grace one last glimpse of
him for the night. Her heart shattered.
I
had it all, my own fairytale, and I wrecked it.

Chapter Nine

She sat back in the cab, staring
with unseeing eyes out the window. The lights of New York at night blurred into
one long, yellow brilliance splitting the darkness as the taxi shot up the
avenue. Emotional pain mixed with physical pain until she ached all over. Clutching
her purse to her bosom as if it were a lover, she tried to keep her breathing
steady to calm herself.
Wait until you
get to Cara’s. Just wait.

The vehicle screeched to a halt in
front of The Stanford, Rex, the doorman, greeted her. Grace’s hearing had shut
down, but she saw his lips move, so she nodded to him. After stuffing a small
wad of bills into the tiny payment compartment, she slid across the seat. Later
she wouldn’t remember the ride home, paying the driver, or even coming
upstairs.

Her hand shook as she aimed the key in
the right direction, but didn’t connect. Finally able to steady one with her
other, she jammed the key in the lock and turned. Grant was right behind the
door when she opened it. “Gracie, it’s you. I thought someone was trying to
break in.”

Grace looked up at him and tears
began to form again, but words wouldn’t come. Grant stepped back to let her in
the house. “Grant! Who’s at the door?” Cara called from the living room.

“It’s Gracie.” Grace stood frozen,
watching Cara enter the hall. At the sight of her sister, Grace’s defenses fell
away. She let out a cry as the floodgates opened up, burying her face in her
hands. Cara’s arms were around her in a heartbeat.

“
Pookie
!
Darling, what’s wrong? What is it? Did something happen to Jake? Talk to me?”

Grace couldn’t hear what her sister
was saying, because she had lost control. Sobbing, she began to sink to the
floor. Grant grabbed her around the waist, and he and Cara slowly moved her to
her small room. Once inside, they eased her down on the bed. Grace stopped to
gasp for air.

Grant whipped out a handkerchief and
handed it to her. She cleaned up her face and steadied her breathing.

“Take your time,
Pookie
.”
Grace gave a small smile at the endearment. “What happened?”

“Jake broke up with me.”

“What? Why?”

“Tonight we met some…he found out…” She
stopped to take a deep breath. “I’m the Movie Maven…and tonight, Jake found
out.”

Cara gasped as her hand flew to her
mouth. “Gracie, you’re not. Tell me you’re not.”

“Who’s the Movie Maven?” Grant seemed
confused.

“A woman who wrote horrible,
scathing reviews of Gunther’s movies…everybody’s movies for
Celebs ‘R Us,”
Cara said.

“I am, Cara. I am.” Grace hung her
head.

“Why?”

“Because of what Gunther did.”

“But Jake?”

“Never mind. It doesn’t matter. The
things he did were jerky but didn’t deserve that.”

“Then why?”

“I was angry…furious…at Gunther, at
myself. I’d been betrayed, and I wanted revenge.”

“Oh, baby. If only you’d come to
me…”

“What could you have done, Cara?
What? Nothing!” Grace bounded off the bed. “You can’t fix everything, Carol
Anne. You can’t. I know you want my life to be perfect…me to be perfect, but
I’m not. And this time I made the biggest mistake ever. I didn’t tell Jake. I
should have. He trusted me. Then he finds out I have this other…persona,
identity, whatever. A big secret.”

Cara and Grant were silent.

“He’s right, you know. He’s right. I
blew it, destroyed what we had.”

“You told him about Gunther, why
couldn’t you tell him about this?” Cara asked.

“Because I was afraid…afraid he’d be
mad at me for slamming him. I was pretty nasty. I knew he’d be hurt. I was
afraid I’d lose him. And I was right.”

“So what happened?”

Grace explained about Tiffany’s
threat when she’d stopped the bad reviews. Grant and Cara were sympathetic.
Cara hugged her and rose to leave.

“Oh my God,” Gracie moaned.

Cara turned at the door. “What?”

“Wait until Gunther finds out.” She shuddered
as she sank down on her bed, her head in her hands.

“Gunther Quill is not a man to
trifle with, Gracie.”

“Figured.” Fear shot through her
veins. “What do you think he’ll do?”

“Let’s hope he’ll consider you small
potatoes and do nothing,” Cara said as she left the room.

Something
tells me he’s not a man to sit by and not retaliate when attacked.
She
turned out the light and buried her head under her pillow, as if she could hide
from the wrath of the powerful Mr. Quill.

Unable to sleep, Grace paced, drank
coffee, tried to write a note to Jake at least three times, and then paced some
more. By six o’clock she was completely exhausted and fell asleep. She awoke at
eleven to a silent house. Sarah was at school, Grant at work, and Cara on her
way to the theater.

Matinée
day! Jake will be at the theater soon, too.
She showered and dressed in
jeans and a sweater. By one she left the apartment, heading to Jake’s. She let
herself in quietly then called his name twice to make certain he wasn’t home.
Matinée starts at two. He can’t still be
here.

Quickly she packed her things and
put her keys on the kitchen counter. She read the letter she wrote one more
time.

You’re right. I should
have told you. I love you, but I understand why we can’t be together anymore.
I’m so sorry I wrecked everything between us. I didn’t mean to.

Grace

She folded the paper, kissed it, and
placed it beside the keys. She managed to get the heavy suitcases out the door
and into a taxi. With a deep sigh, she watched Jake’s building disappear as the
cab rode north.

Unpacking was the hardest thing
she’d ever done. With every garment she placed in the bureau or closet, she
envisioned how happy she had been with Jake. Only a week of living with him,
but night after night being together at the theater, watching him perform,
making love with him, dancing, eating pizza, telling jokes…there were so many
things about their time together she loved and nothing she hated.

Hanging up her lavender silk dress,
she shrank back in horror.
Damn!
Her
sexy outfit for dancing the samba hung there, innocently mocking her.
The dance contest is tonight!
A soft
pink chiffon dress to wear for the waltz hung next to the fiery samba ensemble.
No, no, no. Not dancing tonight. No way.
If I go and he doesn’t show up, I’ll die. I’m not going. Jake’s not going to be
there. He couldn’t even look me in the eye, let alone dance with me.

A new heaviness entered her heart.
Something else she wanted she wouldn’t have. She sank down on the bed and
heaved a long sigh. Lying back, she pulled the quilt around her. Suddenly,
exhaustion trumped being upset, and she fell asleep.

At three o’clock she awoke.
The show’s over.
She turned off her cell
phone and put on her coat, heading to
The
Blue Heron
bar on Eighth Avenue. She and Jake went in there from time to
time. They knew the bartender.

“Hi, Barry.”

“Hey, Grace. What can I do for you?”

“How about a margarita, straight up,
and some chicken fingers?”

“Coming right up.” She took a table
in the corner and took a swig of her drink. The alcohol was cold and soothing
going down.
I need to stop the pain.
Grace
sat back and watched the old
reliables
file in. As a
writer, she enjoyed watching people and trained her quiet gaze on the men and
women who chose this tavern to ice their troubles in.

She finished her margarita and
ordered another. A quick glance at the clock told her it was four o’clock.
Dance contest is at eight.
Gotta
a lot of time to kill here.
She nibbled on the
chicken fingers and listened in on conversations.

* * * *

At the theater, Jake rushed into
Cara’s dressing room right after the show. “Where’s Grace?”

“I don’t know. Home I’d guess. She
was pretty upset.”

Jake lowered his gaze, trying to
hide his embarrassment. “I was a little harsh with her last night.”

“I don’t want to interfere. Please
don’t put me in the middle,” Cara said.

“Tonight’s the dance contest. She’s
supposed to be here.”

“Did you call her?”

“Straight to voicemail.”

“Damn!”

“I’m going home and see if she’s
there.”

“Didn’t you tell her to move out?”

“I only asked her to spend last
night at your place.”

Cara cocked an eyebrow at him. “Isn’t
that the same thing, Jake?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. I didn’t mean
it to be. I’m willing to listen to her side today.”

“You might not get a chance.”

“Hey, wouldn’t you have been
pissed?”

“I suppose. Look. Leave me out.
Okay? She’s my sister, and you’re my co-star…I’m right in the middle.
Yipes
! I don’t really know what happened and don’t want to.
You two have to work it out.” Cara opened her door, indicating that Jake should
leave.

“Will you call me if you find her?”

“I will. I’m sure she’ll be at the
dance contest tonight. Not like Gracie to run out on a commitment.”

“Not so sure,” he said under his
breath, as he headed down the hall to his room. Jake waited another hour and
called Grace about five times before he headed home. After opening the door to
his apartment, he called her name. No answer. Hoping a beer would calm his
nerves, he went to the refrigerator. There he spied the keys and the note on the
counter.
Oh, no. Gracie!
A new pain
entered his heart.

Last night he had been upset.
Worried that he’d rushed into his relationship with Gracie, not knowing her
well enough, he’d determined to have a long talk with her before deciding what
to do. Now her departure short-circuited that.
Dammit!

He threw the note in the trash,
chugged his beer and sat down with his cell phone.
Must find Grace. Need to talk.
He called Cara, then
Dorrie
Rogers. But Gracie wasn’t on Central Park West, and
she wasn’t at the studio. He called Quinn, but neither he nor Susanna had seen
Grace.

Now it was six o’clock, and time was
getting short. He called Cara again. “Bring her costumes to the studio, please.
Come half an hour early.”

“Will do. Have you heard from her?”

“Not yet. You?” Jake paced.

“Nope.”

“See you later.”

He hung up and got his coat.
Hmm. Smuggler’s Cove, The Blue Heron,
Casey’s Place…one by one until I find her.
He entered Smuggler’s Cove and
went straight to the bar.

“Have you seen Gracie, George?” The
bartender shook his head. “Should I tell her you’re looking for her if she
shows up?”

“Nah. Never mind. I want to surprise
her.”

As he walked down the street, he
couldn’t keep his mind from going over and over what had happened between them.
Guilt fought with indignation, mistrust battled with love in his heart. Instead
of finding a solid answer, he only became more confused.
Is it my fault she moved out? Did I tell her to? I thought I only said
I wanted to spend one night apart. Maybe she thought…I said…I don’t know.
Women, dammit!

When he walked into
The Blue Heron
, Barry nodded at him then
glanced over to the corner where Gracie was sitting. Jake approached her
slowly. She was looking at her drink and didn’t notice him.

“Is this seat taken?” Jake stood
next to her.

Grace’s head snapped up, and she
stared at him. Her eyes filled with tears as she pushed the chair toward him
with her foot. He sat down and moved closer. A waitress stopped by, but Jake
waved her off.

“Hey! I wanted another drink.”

“Looks like you’ve had enough,
Grace.”

She turned hostile eyes to him. “Says
who?”

“I do.”

“You have no right…you gave that up
last night.”

“What? What did I give up? I wanted
to spend one night apart. Wanted to think…by myself. I didn’t tell you to move
out!” Jake raised his voice.

“Stop shouting at me!” A few tears
spilled over and ran down her cheek.

“We’re dancing tonight.” He strained
to control his anger and to speak in a quiet tone.

“Are we?” She turned a belligerent
face toward him.

“We are. No more drinks. How many
have you had already?”

“Two…I think.”

“You think? How are you going to
dance, drunk?”

“I’m not drunk, and I’m not going to
dance.”

“Really? I’m your partner, and I say
you are.”

“You’re not my partner. You
were…until last night,” she said in a soft voice.

“I am. At least I’m still your dance
partner.”

Grace wiped her tears with her hand.
“That’s all you are. And now,” she waved in the air, “you’re not that anymore,
either.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“You threw me out last night,
remember?”

“I didn’t…throw you out. I wanted to
spend one night apart. I thought we could talk today, but you disappeared.”

“I hate people who push themselves
on others, stay where they’re not wanted…”

“You mean me?” Pain seared his
chest.

“Me, stupid! Me! You told me to go
away last night, and so I did. I’ll never bother you again.” He heard the
strain in her voice.

“I don’t want you to go away,” he
softened his tone. “Please dance with me, Gracie.”

Her gaze searched his face. He took
her hand, and she let him hold it for a few seconds before slipping it out of
his grasp.

“Come on. We worked so hard. We’re
good, and
Dorrie
is counting on us. They sold a bunch
of tickets…it’s for charity. They’re expecting us.”