Movie Lovers (14 page)

“And if I do…then what?”

“I don’t know.”
Tell her you still care about her. Say something!

She gasped and more tears slid down
her face.

“I was hurt. Don’t know what to do.”
Jake looked down.
You’re making it worse.

“Do you still have feelings for me?”
she croaked out.

“Do you?” he asked, stubbornly
refusing to admit how much he cared for her.

“It’s wrecked now. I’ve wrecked it.”

He glanced at his watch.
Shit, it’s seven!
“Would you please
dance with me?”

“Okay.”

“Are you sober enough?”

“Of course. Two drinks. That’s all.”
She stood up, wobbled for a second, then giggled. Jake palmed her elbow, guiding
her outside. He flagged down a taxi, and they went straight to the studio.

“Wait! My costumes…”

“Cara’s bringing them.”

* * * *

The next hour was a blur to Grace.
Jake walked her around the block, talking to her, while he waited for Cara to
show up with her costumes. The studio began to fill up, and Gracie’s nerves
were shot. The heaviness in her chest prevented anxiety but weighed her down. Cara
arrived twenty-five minutes before show time and dragged Grace backstage. “Take
off your clothes,” her sister barked.

“Wish you were Jake saying that,”
Gracie kidded. Cara shot her sister a sharp look. “I’m not too happy with you.
Disappearing like that. Scaring the hell out of me, Jake, Grant…and
Dorrie
almost had a heart attack! So shut up and do as
you’re told.”

Grace undressed and followed her
sister’s instructions without uttering a word.
I’ve let everyone down. Been a baby. Time to man up.

Cara pinned up her sister’s hair for
the samba, their first number. Grace slipped on her black satin heels and
tiptoed out of the dressing room and into the wings. Her outfit consisted of a
black lace bra corset combination over black lace stockings, and a black satin
short skirt split up the side with red ruffles. Jake was there in his costume,
looking more handsome than he had a right to. Her gaze traveled over his body
in the tight black suit that clung in all the right places, with a dark red
shirt open to the navel.

“You look amazing,” she whispered.

His stare moved down her body,
heating her insides. “So do you,” he whispered back.

“When do we go on?”

“Two more dances.”

“Should we warm up?”

“I thought we did, walking around
outside.”

“Oh, yeah. But I need something
more…before we go on.”

Jake faced her. “What?”

She glanced at the ground, nervously
chewing her lip.

“What?” he repeated.

“Nothing.”
A kiss would warm me up for the samba. A kiss would be wonderful…not
gonna
happen because you blew it.

He got closer to her and draped his
arm around her waist. Grace closed her eyes and sank into his shoulder. When
the music stopped, the couple dancing received applause then left the temporary
stage. Then, the next couple came on and their song was cued.

“We’re next,” Jake whispered. The
dance seemed to take only thirty seconds and before she knew it, Grace heard
Dorrie
announce them.

“Grace Brewster and Jake Matthews!”

He took her hand, and they went on
stage. They struck their poses and as the music began, their chemistry kicked
in. The song was seductive. Jake was masterful and sexy. The sway of their hips
pulled her into the number in a way it hadn’t quite before. Relaxed by the
alcohol, Grace bent to his commands with ease and fluidity. The sexual tension
between them fairly crackled like a loose power line.

They slinked across the stage,
stopping to grind their hips together, shake top to bottom and then execute the
intricate steps in unison with each other and the music. The heat they
generated was enough to wilt the flowers in her hair as well as stoke
smoldering fires within her. She wanted him.

When the dance was over, the
audience leapt to their feet, applauding. Grace and Jake bowed. Then, to each
other, and Jake kissed her hand. Back stage, he hugged her.

“I’ve got to change!” Grace ran off
to the dressing room where Cara was waiting for her. Off with the sexy samba
costume and on with the filmy, chiffon dress for the Viennese Waltz.

“That was some steamy dance,
Pookie
,” Cara said, unzipping Grace’s outfit.

“You liked it?”

“It was great. You two were
smokin
’ hot. Is it like that off stage, too?”

“Cara!”

“What?” Cara hung up the samba
costume.

“Pretty nosy, aren’t you?” Grace
snatched the waltz costume off the chair.

“So? I’m your sister.”

“You’re not entitled to know
everything about me.” Grace wiggled into the dress.

“Says who?”

“Why don’t you tell me how hot you
and Grant are?”

Cara stopped. “Okay. You win.” Cara
zipped the back up.

“Hair?”

“Must be different. Long and loose,”
Cara said, brushing Grace’s locks.

“It’s weird having you do this for
me.”

“I know. I like it.” Cara grinned at
her little sister. “Break a leg…do you say that for a dance contest?” the
actress’s brow furrowed.

“Not sure. But I get it.”

“Now go. Dance with the man of your
dreams and forget about everything else.” Cara hugged her sister and returned
to her seat.

I’ll
try. Man of my dreams? Maybe I was just dreaming.
She sighed and slipped
backstage to meet Jake. Grace stood in the wings, waiting for the couple doing
a
Pasa
Doble
to finish.
Jake joined her. He gave her a small smile and a nod of approval before taking
her into his embrace. She loved how strong his hands were, and always warm and
dry.

“Back by popular demand, doing the
Viennese Waltz, Grace Brewster and Jake Matthews,”
Dorrie
said, and then led the applause as the couple took their place on the stage.
The music flowed sweetly as Grace and Jake formed a frame with their shoulders.
A lightness in her step enabled her to float across the floor in Jake’s arms.

As she gave herself over to the
rhythm of the music, her tension and anxiety melted away. When she looked into
his eyes, it became only Grace and Jake dancing together in perfect harmony.
The audience, and even
Dorrie
, fell away for Grace as
Jake whirled her around the room with subtle pressure from his fingers on her
waist.
Lovely, beautiful.

Their perfect timing and the way
their bodies flowed as one told Grace they belonged together. She refused to
think but simply to feel the joy coursing through her as she put herself in his
capable hands.

The music ended too soon. Again they
received ‘bravo’ cheers, tons of applause, and a standing ovation. After their
bows to the audience and each other, reality came crashing down on Grace as
Jake’s expression became hooded. She sensed him pulling back from her and
stepped aside to let him go.
Only way to
hold him is to let him go.

Emotion rose in her chest, making
speech impossible. She fled to her dressing room and closed the door. With
trembling hands, she fussed with the zipper until Cara arrived.

“Let’s go out and celebrate,
Pookie
,” Cara said, folding the chiffon dress while Grace
slipped into her sweater and jeans. When they returned to the studio, most of
the people had left. Grant, Sarah, and
Dorrie
were
waiting.

“Ah, ladies! A fine dance, Gracie.
Beautiful. Let’s go to
Hark’s
Cabin for a bite and
some champagne.” Grant turned from Grace to
Dorrie
.
“Will you join us?”

“How lovely. Let me get my coat.”

“Where’s Jake?” Grace asked.

Grant’s face turned pink and his gaze
slid to the floor. “He’s gone.”

* * * *

Jake wasn’t happy with himself for
skipping out on Grace after the dance.
Left
her without a word. Coward!
He was confused and needed time to think. Then
he needed to talk to Grace. Maybe. He pulled the collar of his coat up against
the early spring wind as he walked down Broadway toward his building.

When?
When am I going to talk to her? What am I going to say? I didn’t mean to break
us up, did I? Maybe I did. How would I feel if Grace had asked to take a night
off from me? Probably would have been fine with it. She overreacted. Typical
female.

The air was much colder than when he
went to look for Grace, and his thin jacket wasn’t keeping him very warm. Jake
shivered as a gust of wind blew right through the fabric, chilling his arms and
neck. He increased his pace.
Only two
more blocks.

When he entered his apartment, the
first thing he did was put hot water in the coffeemaker.
Need something warm.
Reluctant to take off his jacket, he slumped
down on the sofa and stretched out. The rooms were warm but drafty near the
windows, so he stayed curled up on the convertible couch that made into a bed. By
the time the coffee was ready, Jake was already asleep, clothes and all. After
half an hour, the machine shut off.

At three o’clock in the morning,
Jake’s phone rang. He hid his head under a pillow, but the incessant ringing
wouldn’t stop. Cracking his eyes open, he looked at the display.
Gunther Quill. What the fuck does he want at
this hour?
Jake answered.

“Jake! You’re home!”

“It’s three in the morning, Gunther.
What do you want?"

“Oh, right, right. Three hour difference…sorry
about that, old chap.”

“What’s up? Are you plastered?”

“Had a few. I admit it. Still…”

“What?”

“Oh, yeah. Reason I called. Found
out Grace Brewster is Movie Maven.”

“Yeah, so?”

“That bitch…that little bitch! She
panned my movies…dumped on them royally. She probably hurt sales. Dumped on
you, too, buddy.”

I’m
not your buddy, Gunther.
“Your point is?”

“I’m getting there. Don’t rush me.”

“Look…I’d like to get back to
sleep?”

“Oh. Yeah. Sorry. Point is, now it’s
payback time. Time to destroy her. I’m
gonna
call
every producer and director I know.
Gonna
make sure
they know her secret identity.”

“Don’t do that.”

“I am. And you’re
gonna
, too. Look at what she did to you!”

“Gunther…”

“She humiliated you in front of the
whole movie industry…”

“Not really.”

“She did. ‘
Most-wooden-performance-of-the-year award. I wanted to take his pulse
to see if he was still alive. As a romantic lead he has the sex appeal of a
slug. His performance put me to sleep.’
What more do you need to hear?”

Jake gritted his teeth, warding off
the renewed sting of those words…that had already been burned on his brain, the
first time he had read them. Still, he would not retaliate. As outrageous as
her actions were, he had behaved very badly toward her. Maybe he deserved such
a public slap in the face. “No way. Not going to do anything.”

“What? You’re going to let that
little…little…”

“Watch it, Gunther. She’s my
girlfriend.”

“Still? Even after this? Oh, I
forgot. You’re banging her, so you’re going to turn the other cheek? Well, not
me. If you won’t help me destroy her, I’ll do it by myself.”

“Don’t, Gunther!” Jake fairly
screamed into the mouthpiece.

“She deserves it.”

“You had it coming. She’s a nice
kid, give her a break. You owe her, anyway, after what you did.”

“Owe her? I don’t think so. What did
I do? Sleep with a beautiful, willing young woman? Since when is that against
the law?”

“Come on. We both know the truth.”

“Yeah? Well, prove it. In a court of
law. Until then, she’ll never be able to show her face in Hollywood, after I
get through with her.”

“Do the decent thing, Gunther.”

“Why should I? Go ahead, Jake, be a
chump. Hang out with her and see how much work you get.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“Just telling you the truth.” With
that, the line went dead.

Jake punched his fist into a pillow
on the sofa. He heated up the cold coffee because he sure wasn’t going back to
sleep. Thank God it was Monday, his day off.
Think, think.
Gotta
be some way to stop him.

Jake paced a bit, ending up at the
window. New York City was quiet at that hour. An occasional drunken couple
staggered down the street singing, a few taxicabs drove by, but otherwise the
city was asleep.
Quinn!
Quinn’ll
know what to do. He’s got a great rep. He’ll help.
Once he had an action to take, Jake calmed down. Suddenly exhausted, he
stretched out on the sofa again and was asleep quickly.

Chapter Ten

When Jake arrived at Quinn’s apartment,
he realized he had interrupted an intimate moment. Both Quinn and his wife,
Susanna, were wearing robes and had a slight flush to their faces.
Idiot! Should have called first.

Holding up his phone, Quinn said, “Have
you met this yet, Jake? It’s called the cell phone.”

“I’m so sorry…didn’t realize…I
should have called first.”

“Damn right. This had better be urgent.
My day off is…my time with Susie.”

“Sit down, Jake. Don’t mind, Quinn.
He’s always grumpy before nine on his day off. I’ll put up some coffee. Don’t
say anything important until I get back.”

Jake paced, too nervous to sit.

“Hey, you’re making me tired, just
watching…and wearing out the rug.”

“Sorry. I can’t sit. Gunther Quill
is going to be on the move soon, and I need to do something.”

“Hey! I told you not to say anything
important until I got back!”

“Sorry,” Jake called into the
kitchen. He sat down on the sofa, got up, slumped into a chair, got up, and
tried the sofa again.

“Hurry up in there, Susanna. This
guy’s driving me crazy out here.”

Finally, she walked in carrying a
tray with three mugs of coffee, milk, and sugar. “Okay, Jake. Fire away.”

The story about Gunther Quill’s
threat to Grace spilled out rapid-fire, until he got to the part about why she
did it.

“And why did Grace attack his
film…and you?” Quinn cocked an eyebrow.

“I can’t tell you that. She told me
in confidence. It’s personal. Trust me she had a good reason to lash out at
him. Though, maybe this wasn’t the best way to do it.”

“Come on, Jake. You tell me this
exciting story and leave out the best part. Revenge, what drives it?
Gotta
know.”

“I’m sorry, Quinn, I can’t.”

“So what are we going to do to save
Grace? Does she know he’s gunning for her?” Susanna asked.

“I don’t think so.” Jake sat back
and sipped his coffee. Knowing his friends would help brought some relief and loosened
his muscles a bit.

“I’ll talk to him,” Quinn volunteered.

“Don’t! I don’t want him to trash
you, too,” Jake said.

“Maybe we should ask Grace…and Cara?
She seems to know Gunther pretty well. Isn’t she considering doing a movie with
him?”

“Yeah. Good.” He nodded.

“You’ve got to tell Grace,” Susanna
put in.

“Me?” His eyebrows rose.

“You’re her guy, so yeah.” Quinn
concurred with his wife.

“Oh, no. Not sure we’re still a
couple.”

“What happened?” Susanna asked.

Jake related a shorthand version of
their fight and break-up. They were silent for a while.

“You should be spending time on
singing lessons and dancing lessons, not getting wiped out by some chick.
You’re new to this business, Jake. Got a lot to learn.”

“I didn’t plan on her. Believe me.”

“But it happened. And now?” Susanna
prompted.

“Now? I don’t know,” Jake said,
shaking his head, staring at the floor.

“But you want to save her.”

“Yeah. Can’t let Gunther take
another shot at her…her writing.” He jumped to his feet and began to pace.

“Loved her screenplay, by the way.
Susanna passed it on to Max.”

“Great! Until he hears from Gunther,
that is.”

“Max Webster is his own man. He
won’t follow Gunther.”

“I hope. Still, bad publicity…”

“Call Cara. She’ll know what to do.”
Quinn said.

“Could you call her? Invite her
over? I don’t want to talk to Grace right now.”

“Why not?” Quinn asked.

“Don’t know what to say.” Jake
picked at a loose thread on his shirt.

“That’s cowardly, isn’t it?” Susanna
said, as gently as she could.

“Maybe. Until I fix this Gunther
thing…”

“What if you can’t
fix
Gunther? You never
gonna
talk to her again?” Quinn asked.

“I will. Just not right now.”

“Okay, Quinn. Call Cara.” Susanna
shot a stern look at Jake and handed the phone to her husband.

Susanna made French toast and bacon
for breakfast. Quinn chattered basketball scores, baseball line-ups, and
trades. Jake couldn’t concentrate. He wanted Cara’s help but was afraid she’d
be angry with him.
Did I break Grace’s
heart? Probably.
Still, finding out she was the Movie Maven was such a
shock, he was still getting used to the idea and dreading the pictures that
would appear in a couple of days in
Celebs
’R Us,
and in the newspapers, too.

He wondered how the anger in his gut
looked spilling all over his face and all over the centerspread of the magazine.
The thought of what he looked like made him shudder. And Grace. Her pitiful
face—so shocked, upset, sad, and imploring. And could he forgive her? No, he
couldn’t, he didn’t.

He closed his eyes as the expression
of deep hurt on her face reappeared in his mind. Those baby blues, once filled
with laughter, happiness, desire, paled underneath the heavy burden of sadness
.
He’d never forget her eyes.

Asshole.
I made everything worse. Now she hates me. Do I still love her? Maybe. Can I
trust her? Doubt it.
His pain intensified as these thoughts swirled around
his mind and heart while he pretended to be listening to Quinn.

Cara arrived after they finished
breakfast. Susanna offered her food. “Thanks, but I just ate. What’s this
about?”

Quinn started the explanation, and then
Jake jumped in. “Grace told you…uh…why she attacked Gunther, right?”

Cara nodded, her mouth compressed
into a thin line. “He deserved it and more.”

“What happened? We’re in the dark
here,” Quinn piped up.

“I can’t say, Quinn. Grace swore me
to secrecy.”

“Great! I’m working in the dark.” He
threw his hands up.

“I have an idea. Let me make a phone
call,” Cara said.

The others sat by quietly, watching
her while she dialed. “Tiffany Cowles, please. Cara Brewster. Yes, I’ll hold.”
She got up and walked across the room to the window. “Tiffany? Hi. Remember
when you said if I ever needed anything? Actually, I do. It’s about Gunther
Quill.”

Cara glanced at the others, who were
listening to her conversation. She slowly walked into the dining room, out of
earshot.

Susanna got up and turned on some
music. “Let’s give her some privacy.”

* * * *

Grace moped around the house on
Monday. Cara was out, Grant was working, and Sarah was at school. She missed
Jake and wondered what he was doing on his day off. At the window, she spied
the first robin of spring. Whipping out her phone, she went to text Jake but
stopped.

I
can’t tell him about a robin. He’s not my boyfriend any more. I can’t text him
about anything.
She heaved a deep and lonely sigh as she perched on the
window seat, watching the sun trying to break through. Grace wracked her brain,
attempting to think of ways to patch up her relationship with Jake. He had
become almost as important to her as the air she breathed.

Only now did she see how much she
turned to him first, thought of him first with a new idea, something she saw, a
laugh, of any kind, or when she needed advice. She’d come to depend on his
being there.

And as for affection and physical
love, well, Jake was unequaled. She missed snuggling up against his warm body
in bed. And his touch, good morning kiss, bear hugs…all parts of them together
she had taken for granted. And lovemaking…well there weren’t words for how much
she missed their intimacy. Now it was all gone, and while the world was coming
into spring, Grace was entering a cold and solitary season of her life.

There were no more tears left.
Unhappiness had morphed into sadness, regret, and anger at herself for her
behavior.
Why didn’t I believe he’d forgive
me? Why didn’t I tell him when we talked about Gunther? That would have been
the perfect time. He was in a forgiving mood. How can I blame him for not
trusting me? I can’t. If he had kept such a big secret from me, I’d feel the
same.

At eleven, she started preparing
lunch. Although she didn’t know where Cara went or when she’d be back, she knew
her sister had to eat. She pulled out some leftover chicken, grapes,
cranberries, and walnuts and began making chicken salad. A little music on the
radio seemed to help, until they played Matthew Morrison singing
Summer Rain
.
The song made her think of making love with Jake. She shut it off
and ignored the watering of her eyes.

As she was stirring in the walnuts,
she heard the front door creak. “I’m home,” Cara called out.

Licking a little mayonnaise off her
fingers, Grace met her sister in the hallway. “Lunch is ready. Where’d you go?”

“I’m starved.” Cara walked into the kitchen.
Grace sensed she was avoiding the question. Cara set the table while Grace
portioned out the tasty salad on a small bed of lettuce on each plate. A few
slices of French bread and two glasses of mint iced tea finished off the meal.

“This looks great. Thank you,
Pookie
.”

“
Pookie
?
Uh oh.” Cara cocked her head slightly when she raised her gaze to her sister. “That
means you have bad news.”

“Does it?”

“You never noticed? You always call
me ‘
Pookie
’
when
you have to tell me something bad.”

“Okay, okay,” Cara took a forkful of
salad and sat chewing while looking at Grace.

Grace sipped her tea. Her appetite
had suddenly gone south. After swallowing, Cara launched into the story about
Gunther’s call to Jake and his reaching out to her for help.

“That scumbag! After what he did to
me?” Grace rose out of her chair and paced.

“I fixed it.” Grace slowly resumed
her seat. “You did?”

Cara nodded.

“How?”

“I called Tiffany.” She smiled.

“Tiffany Cowles? You didn’t!”
Grace’s mouth hung open.

“I did. She and I are friends, sort
of.”

“And?”

“She’s going to call Gunther and
tell him to back off or else.”

“Or else what?”

“I didn’t get into details. But it’s
pretty crazy to buck Tiffany.”

“Don’t I know it.” Gracie looked at
her cuticles.

“She didn’t mean to get Gunther on
your back. Said she was teaching you a lesson.”

“I didn’t want to write any more of
those nasty reviews. I’m not a nasty person.”

“I know,
Pookie
,”
Cara patted Grace’s hand. “She’s running your glowing review of Jake’s movie,
though it’s killing her,” she chuckled.

“Yeah?”

“To make it up to you.”

“Sweet.” Grace smiled.
Good for Jake.
“Did he say anything
about us?”

“Jake?” Cara shook her head. “I
didn’t ask, since you told me to butt out.”

“Damn,” she muttered.

Cara faced her sister and grabbed
her shoulder. “Look! He cared enough about you to take this Gunther thing to
Quinn and me.”

“Oh, God! He didn’t tell Quinn about
Gunther?”

“Of course not. Neither did I.”

Grace let out a big breath.

“Obviously he cares for you.”

“But I destroyed what we had.” Grace
hung her head, her fingers played with the hem of her sweater.

“So rebuild.”

“Easy to say…”

“Grant and I did.”

“You two were together for a long
time. Have a kid…it’s not the same.”

“Do you love him?”

Grace nodded.

“Then try,
Pookie
.
Try.” Cara pushed to her feet. Grace cleared the table. “Let me do those. You
made lunch.”

“I don’t have anything to do.” Grace
turned on the faucet.

“Find something. Read a book.
Scoot,” Cara said, shooing her sister out of the room.

Grace went back to the window to see
the sun poking through the gray clouds. She smiled. Her cell rang. The familiar
song,
Summer Rain
, tinkled through
the apartment.
Maybe it’s Jake?
She
picked up the phone only to spy a strange number. A frown wrinkled her forehead
as she spoke.

“Grace? Max Webster here.”

“The producer?”

“None other. About your screenplay.
I love it. Can we meet?”

“Sure, sure. When?”

“How about lunch tomorrow? Say one
at Limoges? Do you know where it is?”

“I do. I’ll be there. And thanks.”

“A pleasure.”

He hung up. A zing shot through her
body, and she went to call Jake but put the brakes on when his number came up.
I can’t call him. But I can’t not tell him.
That’s keeping stuff from him…again. But he’s not my…but he did tell me…damn.
Text him, Grace.

She sat down on the sofa and
composed a text. After she hit
send
,
she ran into the kitchen to tell her
sister. As she was babbling on, her phone dinged. This time it was Jake.

Great news about your
play. Congratulations. Hope Max buys it and pays you a boatload of money. Good
luck.

Her smile melted into a frown as she
noticed there was no
love
at the end
of the message.
Just as if he were only a
friend.
A heaviness lodged in her chest and breathing became difficult. She
blinked back tears but couldn’t look Cara in the eye.

“Bad news?”

“Not good news.” Grace excused
herself and retreated to her room. She shut the door and collapsed on the bed.
It’s over, Grace. Face it. O-v-e-r. You
screwed up. He’s gone.

After slipping between the sheets,
Graced switched off the light. She lay for a while with her eyes open, staring
into the darkness. Her mind couldn’t take in that Jake was out of her life.
I can never be friends with him because I’ll
never stop wanting him.
The pain in her heart was like mourning for the
loss of a loved one.
It’s like a death.
She
sighed and tossed for a while, looking for a comfortable position. Finally, grief
wore her out, and she fell into a fitful rest.