“Um, hi, we’re looking for—” she began, her voice squeaky, but the woman cut her off.
“Mr. Eklundstrom was expecting you to arrive today,” she announced in a soft, modulated tone. “I’m his assistant, Esperanza. Please follow me.”
Her heart drumming, Holly turned in her seat to regard Alexa, whose lips were parted and eyes shining. For the first time since getting in the car, the two girls held each other’s gazes for a long moment, and slowly, despite any bickering that had gone on before, their faces broke into simultaneous smiles. Holly knew they were thinking the exact same thing.
They were, in fact, lucky bitches.
CHAPTER FOUR
Starry-Eyed Surprise
“El Sueño,” Esperanza said in crisp, flawless Spanish as the white-jacketed butler (who may or may not have been faking his British accent) set the girls’ bags down in the entrance hall of the guesthouse. Esperanza nodded at him, and he noiselessly departed.
“Perdón?” Holly asked shyly. She’d been gawking out the window at their white-and-silver sundeck, but now she turned around, intending to put her limited Spanish to some use. But Esperanza shot her a look that indicated she shouldn’t even try.
“ ‘The Dream,’ ” Esperanza translated coolly, flipping open her cell phone to check something on the screen. “It’s what Mr. Eklundstrom named this—his estate”—she gestured out the huge windows—“when he bought it last year.”
“The Dream,” Alexa echoed, walking in a slow circle around the sun-drenched entrance hall, her suede platforms silent on the cool marble floors. High luxury was nothing new to Alexa—she’d stayed at the starriest of five-star hotels on research trips with her architect dad—but this was absolutely unreal.
There were sheet-glass walls that looked out onto the shimmering Pacific, red-spotted koi swimming inside a bubble tank, an Xbox 360, and squishy lemon-yellow sofas the size of beds. On every free surface there were vases overflowing with fresh-cut irises, framed snapshots of Jonah laughing oceanside with Scarlett Johansson and Kristen Bell, and porcelain bowls piled high with fat, shiny Greek olives, which, Alexa had once read on a gossip blog, were Jonah’s favorite snack.
One glance at Holly’s incredulous expression told Alexa that her friend was also wondering if an alarm clock was going to brring at any moment, bursting the bubble of her sueño. The two girls grinned at each other, both trying to contain themselves in front of Esperanza. In the space of saying good-bye to Seamus and walking from the car to the guesthouse, Alexa and Holly had managed to put their long, grumpy road trip behind them. It was hard to hold a grudge in a place that felt like an episode of Cribs.
“You will find two bedroom suites, one in each wing of the house,” Esperanza was explaining, pointing left and right like a flight attendant while Alexa wondered in which bedroom Scarlett had stayed. “There are a host of other amenities for you to enjoy,” Esperanza added formally. “And you can reach the main house at any time.” She tapped one French-manicured nail against a white intercom beside the door. “With any request.”
Seriously? Holly leaned against a wall to fight off a sudden dizzy spell, but that only made her feel as if she might fall through the glass and straight to the azure ocean below. Back home, Holly was constantly expected to scrub the dishes while her brother dried, straighten up her room on weekends, and even prepare dinner if her parents were staying late at work. She’d certainly never been pampered like this. Holly tried to breathe evenly. I so don’t belong here.
“So,” Alexa was saying to Esperanza, her blue eyes dancing. “You’re saying that if we want, like, foie gras, hot stone massages, and a live Click Five show at three in the morning, we should press that button?”
Holly glanced at her friend in awe. Clearly, Alexa was having no trouble adjusting at all.
Esperanza, who, Alexa suspected, had left her sense of humor back in Assistant to Celebrities Training School, gave a brisk nod. Then the white cell phone in her hand vibrated, and she lifted it to her ear. “Yes, Oren, he’s already at The Standard,” she snapped into the phone. “It’s Jonah’s agent,” she told the girls, covering the mouthpiece. “I’ll let you settle in.” Then, with a quick, dismissive wave, she turned and headed out onto the gorgeous grounds of El Sueño.
Alexa watched Esperanza go, wondering if Jonah’s anal-retentive assistant ever loosened up. Then, realizing it was her time to let loose, she whirled around to face Holly, grinning. “Okay, where should we start exploring?” she squealed—and then her heart stopped.
Holly was sitting on the floor, her back against the wall, with her head in her hands.
“Hol!” Alexa cried, dashing over. “What’s wrong? Do you feel sick?” Alexa couldn’t stand to see anyone throw up, but she’d make an effort to be strong for Holly.
Holly looked up, her freckled cheeks splotchy and her gray-green eyes enormous. “It’s just—” she whispered. “I’m not—this house—and Esperanza—and when we meet Jonah tonight—” She shook her head, her light-brown ponytail swishing from side to side.
Alexa patted her friend’s back. Holly was an East Coast girl if there ever was one—practical, levelheaded, a fan of zip-up fleeces and duck boots—so it made sense that she’d be overwhelmed by LA’s sunny excesses and excitements. “Look, I’m sure Jonah will barely say hi to us tonight,” Alexa said reassuringly, taking Holly’s hands and helping her to her feet.
Holly blew her bangs up, feeling slightly calmer. Alexa, for all her histrionics, could be surprisingly soothing when she wanted to be. Then Holly remembered the one other person who could always ground her back in reality: Tyler. Though she’d briefly talked to her parents from the road (they’d gotten cut off thanks to awful reception at their campsite), she hadn’t had a chance to speak to her sweet, reassuring boyfriend yet.
Holly was reaching down to retrieve her phone from her Vans tote when her stomach let out a noisy grumble. She and Alexa burst into giggles as Holly straightened up and clutched her belly. “That’s why I’m freaking out,” Holly laughed. “I’m starved.” Like any respectable athlete, Holly had a hearty appetite, and that Coke she’d bought on the road hadn’t been remotely enough fuel. “Maybe I should look for the kitchen, huh?” she added with a smirk.
“You scope that puppy out,” Alexa said decisively, squeezing Holly’s shoulder. She was hungry, too, but she wanted to soak in some of the house’s other treats first. “I’ll investigate the rest of our digs. Over and out, soldier.” She shot Holly a quick salute, before bending down to unstrap her Prada platforms.
Slipping off their respective footwear, the girls took off at a run in opposite directions, excitedly reporting their discoveries to each other like explorers landing on an island.
“I found one of the bedrooms—it’s light blue!” Alexa called, admiring the circular bed, plush rug, and walk-in closet that practically begged for newly bought designer goodies.
“Yeah, the other one’s green—I’m totally claiming it!” Holly hollered back around a mouthful of olives.
Giddy, Alexa sprinted from the bedroom to a small orange-painted game room, which contained a vintage Pac-Man arcade, a robot dog, and other unnecessary-but-fabulous toys. “Okay, Hol, no joke—I’m looking at a trampoline!” she shouted, resisting the urge to give it a test-bounce.
“I believe you, because I just discovered a room with an indoor golf course!” Holly responded. “But I can’t find the kitchen…”
“Whatever—I’m in the bathroom, and we have one of those waterfall showers and—ooh!—Bumble and bumble seaweed conditioner in the cabinet!”
Silence greeted Alexa, and she frowned, examining a delicate tub of Crème de La Mer moisturizer. True, Holly didn’t get as psyched about product as she did but that didn’t mean she had to ignore—
An earsplitting shriek erupted from the other end of the house, and Alexa dropped the La Mer in the sink, her knees buckling. “Hol, you okay?” she called. Shit. Holly had probably collapsed again. Now Alexa w
ould have to whisk her to Cedars-Sinai, the fancy LA hospital where Britney had all her babies, and call Tyler and the Jacobsons, who would all completely lose it…Holding her breath, Alexa flew out of the bathroom and in the direction of Holly’s cry.
When she arrived at the kitchen—Sub-Zero fridge, granite counters, cool aqua-blue tiles—she found Holly very much upright. She was also grinning, and pointing one trembling finger to something on the nearest counter: a chilled silver champagne bucket, containing crushed ice, an unopened bottle of Moët & Chandon Nectar Champagne, and two glass champagne flutes. Propped up against the bucket was a piece of cream paper with a handwritten message:
Welcome to the ’Bu, Alexa and friend—a car’s coming by around seven to take you to The Standard—in the meantime here’s a little something to get you in the right mood
See you there—JE.
P.S. I’d suggest swimwear.
“Jonah,” Holly whispered, her heart kicking. “He lives.”
“What time is it?” Alexa whispered back, stunned by the surprise message. She had to admit that Jonah’s gesture was pretty…sweet.
In slow motion, Holly brought her blue Swatch Skyball to her face and replied, “Six…forty…five.”
The girls gasped, turned to leave the kitchen, then immediately turned back to each other, at a loss. “Where do we even start?” Holly cried, gesturing down to her ratty jeans. Though she wasn’t as dizzied by the house’s luxury anymore, this was a whole other brand of nervousness.
Alexa, a near genius when it came to the mathematics of primping-to-go-out, had already calculated that waterfall-shower-plus-full-makeup-plus-trying-on-different-bikinis would equal a big bad zero. They needed to proceed wisely. Which was why she set about uncorking the bottle of champagne and pouring two glasses for herself and Holly.
“To the most efficient fifteen minutes of our life,” Alexa declared as they clinked their flutes, and Holly nodded grimly.
In a whirlwind, the girls managed to down their flutes of champagne, tipsily race to get their bags from the entrance hall, and sequester themselves in their rooms to change—Holly into the lime-green halter bikini that had been her good luck charm in South Beach, and Alexa into her new orange-and-gold bandeau. Cover-ups and shoes were slipped on: a white American Apparel polo dress and flip-flops for Holly, and silk short-shorts, a strapless, flowy black top with a small gold skull in its center, and gold Polly mules for Alexa. When Esperanza buzzed them to announce that the car was outside, Alexa, brushing out her hair, didn’t feel quite as model-glam as she’d hoped when making her debut at a Hollywood party. But then she reminded herself that she shouldn’t care. Be realistic. Be realistic.
The “car” turned out to be a white stretch limo, complete with a capped chauffeur, a stocked bar, and a flat-screen TV. Pulses racing, the girls slid inside and, as the limo pulled away from El Sueño, Alexa opened the moonroof and convinced Holly to stand up with her. The girls poked their heads out into the early evening sea air, the wind wild, the scent of blossoms intoxicating. Alexa stretched her arms up as her hair blew out behind her like a blonde flag. This ride was certainly different from the one she and Holly had taken earlier that day.
“We are officially in Hollywood!” Alexa exclaimed, blowing a kiss to an SUV packed full of bronzed boys and their surfboards. They whistled and waved at her as they tore past, and Alexa hoped she might run into more of their kind later on in the trip.
Holly, meanwhile, was busy noticing the billboards. She didn’t think she’d ever seen quite so many all in one place, all brightly colored and enormous, trumpeting movies, TV shows, and hot new cars. Then Holly noticed a slightly smaller one that made her jaw drop. “Look!” she cried to Alexa, pointing as they passed:
WEDDING BELLES ARE RINGING! EXCLUSIVE LIVE FOOTAGE OF MARGAUX EKLUNDSTROM’S WEDDING. THIS FRIDAY, ONLY ON E!—ENTERTAINMENT TELEVISION.
“Well, I’ve died,” Alexa shouted over the wind, shrugging her shoulders, “and gone to heaven.”
“I don’t know,” Holly said, putting her hands on the moonroof so she could duck back inside. How would she explain it to her parents if she ended up on TV again? That one time in South Beach, when cameras had caught her winning a bikini contest, her entire family had gone into a tailspin.
As Alexa remained standing and saying her hellos to Hollywood, Holly sank down into the deep seats and flicked on the TV. Despite the latest E! revelation, everything else—the champagne, the limo, the way she felt in her favorite bikini—was conspiring to relax her.
Then Holly noticed what was on the TV screen, and she gasped. “It’s destiny,” she announced to Alexa’s knees.
“What is?” Alexa asked, sitting back down and finger-combing her untamed golden tresses. She saw that Holly was watching the Civil War romance A Captain’s Heart—a film that starred none other than Jonah Eklundstrom himself. He was on the screen now, passionately arguing with a colonel, and looking sexier than ever in uniform.
“I bet he’s DVRed it so it’s always on in the limo,” Alexa scoffed, tucking her long legs beneath her and reaching for a packet of pretzels from the bar.
“You’re so cynical,” Holly laughed, changing the channel. Her heart jumped and the remote fell from her hands when Pretty Woman blinked onto the screen. “Okay,” Holly demanded. “Believe in destiny now?”
“Maybe, maybe not,” Alexa replied, her voice teasing. As the limo turned onto the 110 to take them downtown, the city skyline rose in the distance. Let’s see what tonight brings.
Alexa had experienced her share of her dazzling rooftops, but The Standard’s roof bar, where the concierge sent her and Holly upon their arrival, trumped them all.
Soaring glass and steel towers, turning peach and gold in the setting sun, surrounded them on all sides. The bar was a bright, candy-apple red, and the orange plastic tables were all 1960s retro-funky. There were red waterbeds designed to look like space pods, and waitresses dressed in cheerleader costumes carried trays of summer-colored drinks and tiny hors d’oeuvres. A DJ in the corner was playing a mash-up of Bloc Party and Gnarls Barkley, and at the edge of the roof, almost floating in the pinkish sky, was a neon-blue pool. Ridiculously thin and trendy guys and girls were splashing in with shrieks, and hopping out to bum cigarettes and wrap themselves in fluffy white towels. Alexa thought she recognized Samaire Armstrong, and someone who’d been on American Idol, but couldn’t make out either Jonah or Margaux amid all the beauty.
“Yeah, no,” Holly said after a minute, turning to go. This was a bad idea. First of all, she hated heights. Second of all, the thought of stripping down to her bikini in front of all these celebrities—or at least people who looked like celebrities—was terrifying. Feeling very much like the timid Holly of last year, she rubbed her Claddagh ring with her thumb, her heart thudding. “How close is the airport?”
“Get a grip,” Alexa whispered, catching Holly by the arm. “I want to introduce you to Margaux, and we should try to find Jonah. But let’s gather our strength first,” Alexa recommended, waving to one of the cheerleader-waitresses. “Could we have a couple of those mini-burgers?” Alexa asked, pointing to a passing tray.
The pouty waitress stopped, put her hand on her hip, and informed the girls that the burgers, like everything else on the menu, were vegan, and actually called tempeh patties.
Alexa sighed, wondering if anything in the world could possibly sound less appetizing than “tempeh patties.” But Holly, who’d always had a secret thing for health food, began to ask the waitress exactly what was in those delicacies. Bored, Alexa piled her hair up on her head and started scanning the crowd for more celebs when she felt a tap on her shoulder.
“Let me guess—Alexa?”
The boy’s voice was deep, slow, and so familiar that Alexa immediately went breathless.
Oh…my…God.
She let her hair fall and turned around.
The first thing she noticed was that he had, in fact, shaved his beard, leaving only a trac
e of stubble along his beautiful jaw. The second was that, up close—those famous pale blue eyes on hers, his dark hair messed up by the wind, and his taut frame clad in a loose gray Drifter Sea Monkey tee and khaki board shorts—he was about a thousand times hotter than he’d ever appeared on screen (A Captain’s Heart included). Alexa swallowed hard. All she could think to say was Wow, but thankfully what came out instead was “How did you know?”
Jonah Eklundstrom’s face lit up, and he flashed her a bright-white grin. “Margaux described you perfectly,” he replied, and took a sip from the dark green drink in his hand as he held her gaze.
Alexa smiled, feeling the slightest blush flush her cheeks. Coming from any other boy, Jonah’s words would have sounded completely sketchy. But from Jonah, they were simply sweet and straightforward, while still acknowledging that he was a guy, and Alexa a girl—an attractive girl, at that. It was masterful, really; no wonder he’d won the Oscar.
Don’t forget he’s an actor, Alexa told herself firmly, and casually extended one hand. “Thanks for lending us your guesthouse,” she said, trying to keep her tone cool. “And for the champagne.”
“Hey. Life is all about sharing, isn’t it?” Jonah smiled, then took a step closer, ignoring Alexa’s proffered handshake. “And, besides, any friend of my sister’s is a friend of mine.” At this, he opened his arms wide. “Here, give me some lovin’,” he said, and swept Alexa up in a hug.
Pressed up against him—I am touching Jonah Eklundstrom!—Alexa hoped he couldn’t feel the mad thumping of her heart against his chest. His neck smelled clean and summery, like oranges, and Alexa resisted the urge to bury her nose in it. She had not expected to react this strongly to the actor’s off-thecharts hotness. Nor had she anticipated his mellow, down-to-earth vibe, which somehow seemed totally…sincere.