Page 20 of Hollywood Hills


  Alexa set down her spoon, struck by a sense of recognition. She turned to Holly, whose face was already crimson. “Hol, isn’t that—” Alexa began as Sugar glanced from one girl to the next in confusion.

  “Zach,” Holly managed, looking back at the stage in wonder. So it had been him she’d seen yesterday with Margaux and Jonah. Of course. My band, Blue Dog Babylon, he’d told her that day on Zuma Beach. What were the chances? Holly felt a wave of shock wash over her that recalled the cool ocean waves against her skin. It seemed like it had been only moments ago that she’d pulled him from the water, but yet there he was, alive and well onstage.

  First Seamus, and now Surfer Boy, Alexa thought dazedly as Zach said something into the mike that made everyone laugh. “Are we in some freaky alternate universe?” Alexa whispered into Holly’s ear.

  Holly grinned, her eyes on Zach. She remembered the feeling she’d had earlier, that she and Alexa were entering into a fairy tale. “Yes, and it’s called Hollywood,” she whispered back.

  “Please give a great big welcome to Mr. and Mrs. Paul DeMille!” Zach was calling into the mike, lifting his arms above his head and grinning in a way that made Holly melt a little. “And as my grandpa would say, ‘Mazel tov!’ ” Thunderous applause greeted Margaux and Paul as they flitted onto the dance floor in a black-and-fuchsia blur, and Blue Dog Babylon struck up a raucous, punk-rock version of The Ronettes’ “Be My Baby.” Holly cupped her chin in her hands, forgetting her soup as she watched Margaux and Paul move across the floor in perfect tandem, and listened to Zach’s rich, strong vocals. His voice was confident but not showy, with just enough scratchiness to sound badass.

  When the waiters had cleared away the soup, Belle returned to the wedding-party table—she was stranded over at casablanca with Charity Durst and her cronies—to summon Holly onto the dance floor. The band had started playing a new song—something about surfing blues—and Margaux and Paul were swallowed up by a blur of beaded minidresses and black tuxes.

  “I’ve seen how you can shake it,” Belle said, her black eyes flashing as she pulled Holly to her feet. Holly felt a knot of nervousness; what if Zach saw her from the stage? Would it be weird? Though she supposed she could try to accept his thanks and not act like a freak this time. She blew Alexa a kiss as Belle led her out onto the dance floor.

  A second later, Sugar and Buzzkill got up to dance as well, and the rest of the wedding party followed suit, until only Seamus and Alexa were left at guess who’s coming to dinner?, facing each other across the black rose petals and wineglasses. Alexa could almost hear her pulse tapping in her throat.

  “So.” Seamus gave her a teasing half smile. “You’ve clearly got a talent for photography, but how are your moves on the dance floor?”

  Alexa tried to glare at him, but then she broke into laughter, realizing how Seamus’s compliments always gave her a little thrill. “I’m awful,” she joked. “And I’ve got on dangerous heels, so I’m a real threat.”

  “I’ll take my chances.” Seamus pushed back his chair and stood, extending one hand toward Alexa. “Shall we dance?”

  The old-fashioned way Seamus posed the question made Alexa’s heart flutter. She accepted his hand—which caused more fluttering—as he led her onto the crowded dance floor. It was strange; there was still the same mocking, barbed vibe between the two of them, but Alexa sensed something else simmering beneath the surface—a deeper emotion that might have been there all along, if Alexa had only opened her eyes.

  Closing her eyes, Alexa rested her head against Seamus’s shoulder as he put one hand on her waist and moved with her across the floor, his steps confident. She could feel his heart beating rather quickly through his silk vest, and that made her knees go kind of wobbly. Blue Dog Babylon was playing a slow, sweet song, with lyrics about finding love where you least expect it.

  “You lied,” Seamus said after a minute, and Alexa felt the vibration of his chest as he spoke. “You’re not an awful dancer at all.”

  “No, you lied,” Alexa shot back, opening her eyes and pulling away slightly, but Seamus kept a steady hold on her waist, his eyes sparkling. “Or, at least, you kept the truth from me. How can I ever trust you again?” Her tone was light; Alexa knew she could trust Seamus—with everything. How had she never before noticed his insight, his thoughtfulness?

  “My apologies.” Seamus leaned Alexa backward in a dip, and she couldn’t help but laugh at the dramatic gesture. When he brought Alexa back up, he grinned and added, “But fine, fair enough. Feel free to ask me anything you want about myself and my secret, evil motives.”

  Alexa stared up into his hazel eyes, overcome by how much she suddenly wanted to know about Seamus Kerr. What’s your favorite book? Are you an only child? Have you ever been to Paris? Why is that you can get a rise out of me when nobody else can? Her tongue quivered with the desire to speak these questions, to find out about the boy she was dancing with. Alexa wasn’t sure she’d ever been so curious about another person.

  “Here’s a question,” Alexa finally said, coming to her senses. “If you and Jonah are so buddy-buddy, why weren’t you at the Standard party on Tuesday night?” And more important, did he tell you about me? she wanted to add, but she held back.

  Seamus paused in their dancing, and reached into his jacket pocket to pull out his cell phone. Flipping it open, he revealed a picture of the most adorable baby boy Alexa had ever seen. “My nephew,” Seamus explained with a crooked grin. “My sister, who lives near my parents in La Brea, just had her first kid, so I was doing a lot of family stuff this week—even watching my nephew some nights to give my a sister a break. I was bummed to miss Jonah’s party, but, as you can see, this little guy is sort of hard to resist.”

  So are you, Alexa thought before she could stop herself. Guys who were good with kids never failed to make her melt. Alexa was about to ask Seamus more about his nephew, when someone touched her arm. Turning around, Alexa saw the petite, dark-haired Paz Ferrara, wearing her trademark thigh-high boots with a short red dress cinched in the middle with a fat satin ribbon. “Gail’s daughter, si?” Paz asked, grinning up at Alexa as if she hadn’t totally ditched her at Gail’s party on Monday. “I did not know you knew the Eklundstroms,” Paz added, her eyes wide.

  Alexa brushed at her glossy new bangs, relishing her new hairdo as she returned Paz’s smile. “Oh, Margaux and I go way back,” she sighed, feeling Seamus’s amused gaze on her. “Her dress is to die for, by the way,” she added truthfully—that, she couldn’t deny.

  “Thank you!” Paz bubbled, giving Alexa an approving once-over. “You have—how you say?—a good eye. Your mother, she told me you are an excellent photographer and that you will be interning at Vogue. Would you have interest to work with the photographer who will be shooting my line?”

  Alexa felt the warmth of excitement race through her. She hadn’t even dared hope for an opportunity like that this summer. “I—I’d love to,” she stammered. And what warmed Alexa even deeper than Paz’s offer was the knowledge that her mom had recommended her as a photographer. She couldn’t wait to tell Holly.

  “I will talk to Anna,” Paz said, referring to Vogue’s famous editor-in-chief, as she walked off, waggling her fingers at Alexa. “Ciao, querida.”

  Alexa turned back to Seamus, knowing her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were shining. Seamus’s eyes were shining, too, as he looked at her. “That’s so cool, Alexa,” he said softly, his voice full of admiration, and Alexa was suddenly grateful that he had been there to hear the news. “I knew you had to be a good photographer from the moment you took that picture in the car in Vegas.”

  Alexa shook her head, bewildered by Seamus’s confession. “Seamus, I thought you couldn’t stand me on our road trip. I thought it was Holly you preferred.”

  “I like Holly,” Seamus said, and Alexa felt his arms draw her in closer. “But I’m not dancing with her now, am I?” Alexa was holding her breath, barely able to believe what Seamus had said, when suddenl
y he glanced over her shoulder and his face broke into a grin. “If it isn’t our resident Oscar winner-slash-heartthrob,” Seamus called with a wave, and Alexa’s stomach dropped.

  “Shay! Haven’t seen you all night.” Jonah came forward and gave Seamus the typical boy-hug: a couple of fast slaps on the back and a vigorous handshake. “Can you believe Margaux’s old and married?”

  As the two friends bantered, Alexa glanced from one boy to the other. Jonah was still outlandishly gorgeous, but he was lacking the fire—the energy—that made Seamus who he was. Now Alexa could see why Jonah didn’t give her butterflies. Seamus was neither a celebrity nor a hot French painter…he was just a New York writer-guy. But studying him now, Alexa felt an unmistakable pulsing in her belly. It was him she couldn’t take her eyes off—not the movie star.

  Jonah was in the midst of telling Seamus something about The Princess and the Slacker when he glanced in Alexa’s direction—and went bug-eyed. “Alexa, I didn’t recognize you!” he exclaimed. “You changed your…” He reached out, as if to touch Alexa’s hair, then seemed to think the better of it. From the way his brow furrowed, Alexa could tell that Jonah wasn’t loving her new cut, and for some reason, that made her want to laugh. Of course. Someone like Jonah would prefer girls who had traditionally long hair; it took a guy with more edge, and more imagination—a guy like Seamus—to see why a different style might work.

  Alexa nodded at Jonah, and any tension she might have felt around him began to fade. It seemed like ages ago that they’d kissed on the rooftop and in the hot tub; so much had happened between then and now, including the haircut. Alexa knew that Jonah had cared for her—at least, in his actor-y way—but she sensed that he was letting go of those romantic feelings, even as they stood there together. Maybe it was her hair.

  Jonah looked from Alexa to Seamus and back again. “You guys know each other?” he asked, and though there was a note of jealousy in his voice, Alexa sensed that Jonah was pleased to see his friends mingling together. He certainly wasn’t going to call Seamus a traitor, or insist that he take his hands off Alexa. As much as Alexa secretly wished she’d be the catalyst for some nineteenth-century-type duel, she had to concede that the festive, sparkling party energy was keeping everyone in good spirits.

  “Yeah, we just met,” Alexa spoke, meeting Seamus’s knowing gaze. In a way, it felt as if they had—as if tonight was the way they should have met all along.

  Jonah nodded, then put his hand on Alexa’s arm; to her relief, the gesture felt more friendly than anything. “Seamus is a great guy,” he said, smiling at her, and Alexa smiled back, knowing Jonah was right, and knowing that, in his way, he’d given her his blessing.

  Either that, or the actor was spacey enough to miss out on the total chemistry between Alexa and his friend.

  As Jonah made his way back into the teeming crowd, Alexa watched him go, feeling a sense of closure. When Seamus took her hand and pulled her near once more, she breathed in his aftershave—a heady bay-rum scent—and they started slow-dancing again. Blue Dog Babylon was playing a fast song, but neither she nor Seamus seemed to care.

  “Hmm,” Seamus said into her ear. “I didn’t know Jonah was so taken with you.”

  “Not anymore,” Alexa protested, feeling the laugh build in her throat. “I don’t think he likes my hair.”

  “Really?” Seamus raised one eyebrow, and then, as Alexa’s skin tingled, he ran his fingers through her bobbed locks. “I’m a fan. Very sophisticated. Then again, it’s not how you look that captivates me.”

  Alexa felt her head swimming, her heart bursting. “It’s not?” She slipped her arms around Seamus’s neck to keep herself steady.

  Seamus shook his head, watching her intently. “It’s something in here.” He moved his fingers over to her forehead, caressing her ever so slightly, and then let them trail down, over her collarbone, to rest lightly against her heart. “And here.”

  Alexa felt wonderfully dizzy. So this is why I thought this night would change my life. “You have a really weird way of showing how you feel, Seamus.”

  “I’ve been a jerk.” Seamus offered her an apologetic smile. “You confused me, Alexa. At first I thought you were like so many other girls I’d known, but then when I got your sense of humor…” He stopped dancing for a minute. “I knew there was more to you than meets the eye.”

  As they stood pressed close together, their faces inches apart, Alexa desperately wanted Seamus to kiss her—but was also afraid that he would. She was worried that if they gave in to the sexual tension simmering between them, Seamus would become nothing more than another hook-up. Whatever they had would lose meaning. So Alexa pulled back, and, in doing so, happened to spot Holly across the dance floor. In her pink dress, with her hair pulled back, she could be one of many lovely starlets flitting about the party; only her eyes—wide and sparkling with warmth—gave her away. She was talking to Jonah and Belle, and Alexa wondered what the three of them were discussing.

  “Hope you girls are loving life right now,” Jonah was saying to Holly and Belle, playing the part of hospitable best man to a hilt. “Let me know if there’s anything you need,” he added, and then glanced around the tent. “By the way, have either of you seen Esperanza? I need to ask her where she put my cell phone charger.”

  Holly shook her head, fanning her hot face with one hand; she hadn’t seen Jonah’s stuffy assistant since the ceremony. And she’d been far too busy in the past half hour getting her groove on—and sneaking peeks at Zach—to really look for anyone. As Jonah was saying something else to Belle, Holly did scan the dance floor—and immediately noticed Alexa shooting her a huge smile. She and Seamus were dancing, their arms lightly draped around each other, and Holly was filled with elation—though not much surprise. Nobody bickered as much as those two did unless they were meant for each other.

  “Charity was looking for you,” Holly heard Belle saying to Jonah. “I think she…misses you, Jonah.”

  Intrigued, Holly turned back around to see the actor give Belle a kiss on the cheek, wave to Holly, and trot off in search of his once and future leading lady.

  “Oh, wait—there’s Esperanza,” Belle exclaimed after Jonah had gone. Holly followed Belle’s gaze, and then her jaw dropped.

  Jonah’s assistant had finally, finally let loose. She was dancing in a far corner with one of the groomsmen, sipping from a miniature bottle of pink champagne. Her hair, appropriately, was out of its ever-present bun, and swung down her back in abundant, dark waves. She’d also shed her white suit jacket to reveal a silky white camisole underneath. Holly would never have thought it, but Esperanza was pretty…hot. The groomsman seemed to think so, too, from the way he was dancing with her. Holly prayed Alexa was getting a glimpse of this action.

  “Wow,” Belle commented with a yawn. “That’s what happens when you work for a high-maintenance actor twenty-four-seven, and then get the night off.” She shook her head, and nudged Holly. “I’m getting tired just watching her. Want to take a break?”

  Holly hesitated, glancing up at the stage. The whole time she’d been dancing, she’d alternated between hoping that Zach would, and wouldn’t, spot her. At moments, it had seemed like the lead singer’s eyes had strayed in her direction, but he gave no indication that he either noticed or recognized her. Holly didn’t really mind; it was pleasure enough to listen to his unique voice, to watch from afar as he moved along the stage, sinuous and confident, a rock star in Converse sneakers. “He’s so sexy,” Belle had said at one point, and Holly had simply blushed in agreement, keeping their connection to herself.

  Now, Belle was watching Holly expectantly, but before Holly could look back at her and say that, yeah, a break sounded good—after all, her spice-rubbed chicken, mango sauce, and wild rice dinner was waiting—Zach was stepping up to the mike and undoing his bow tie.

  “Folks,” Zach called, wiping sweat from his brow. “We’re gonna take a quick break and let the DJ—we’ve got Samantha Ronson here tonight?
??do a turn. See you again soon.” He lifted his guitar up over his head and set it down by the drum set. Her face heating up, Holly watched as Zach also removed his suit jacket and then went over to say something to his drummer. To Holly’s disbelief, both Zach and the drummer looked right in her direction, and Zach’s face broke into a huge grin.

  “Guardian angel?” he mouthed at her, his brown eyes sparkling, and Holly gave a small nod, feeling Belle’s inquisitive gaze on her.

  And then Zach and his drummer hopped off the stage and were weaving through the crowd. As the drummer—a cute, short guy with long-ish brown hair—began chatting up Belle (“You must get this all the time, but aren’t you Pocahontas?”), Zach stopped in front of Holly.

  “I don’t know if you could tell, but I kept checking you out all night,” he finally said, after they’d both studied each other for a moment. “And not in a sketchy way. I wasn’t sure it was you.”

  Holly smiled shyly. “What tipped you off?” she asked.

  “Your eyes.” Zach shrugged. “They were the first things I saw when I came to the other day, on the beach. They’re unmistakable.”

  Holly wondered if it was possible to catch fire from the warmth of her own skin. She looked down, trying to come up with a response. She thought about telling Zach that his eyes were unmistakable as well, and that he looked adorable tonight, with his white shirt untucked and his brown curls framing his flushed face. But she thought the better of it.

  “You know, you never told me your name,” Zach spoke, clearly not put off by Holly’s awkwardness. “I like Guardian Angel, but I’m guessing that’s going to get old after a while.”

  Holly couldn’t help her laugh. “Holly—Holly Jacobson,” she said, holding out her hand, and her heart jumped a little when Zach shook it.

  “Zach Rose,” he replied, holding her hand for a beat longer than necessary. His fingertips felt calloused from the guitar playing, but in a pleasant way. “Terrific to meet you, Holly.” He paused, then rolled up his white sleeves, revealing the nicely toned arms Holly had admired on the beach not too long ago. “I should have known you’d have celeb connections,” Zach went on, smiling at her teasingly. “Running off all mysteriously when I tried to thank you…”