CHAPTER 9
I couldn’t read Grant's expression. It wasn’t surprise, approval, or disapproval. He just watched me. Morgan looked over and gasped. “You’re Grant Delray.”
His gaze turned to her, and he smiled. "You caught me.”
"I didn’t know you were here too," she chimed. "Can I have your autograph?”
He strolled over to the bed and took the pen from my hand. "Sure thing. Where did you want me to sign?”
She grabbed the CD I’d given her. "Here—can you sign next to Kari’s signature?"
As he wrote, he spoke out loud, "To Morgan, hope your surgery goes well. Remember when listening to this CD that you actually like me much better than Kari Kingsley." I smacked him.
Morgan's gaze flicked to me, then back to him. "Kari is an amazing singer," she said.
My stomach rumbled loudly, and as Grant handed the CD back to her, he said, "It’s true. Even Kari’s stomach sings."
"Yes, and it hits the low notes much better than I do," I said. "But right now it’s saying it’s past time for lunch, so I’d better go."
I gave Morgan a hug good-bye, then stood up and left the room. Grant came with me. We walked down the hallway together, neither of us moving very fast. Bao-Zhi walked even slower, following us far enough away that Grant and I had some privacy. I stole a glance at Grant’s perfect profile. His hair wasn't mussed and gelled like it had been last night. It lay against his face in smooth brown waves. He wore jeans and a T-shirt, making him look like a normal guy. Well, assuming that the normal guy was really hot.
"It was nice of you to drop by and talk with the kids,” he said.
"How did you know I was here?"
"My father called and told me. He’s the director.”
My head swung around to look at Grant. "He is?"
Grant smiled at my surprise, and I wondered if Kari already knew this information, in which case I’d made myself look really stupid.
"Neither one of us advertises it,” he said. "My family likes to be left out of the limelight. My dad especially doesn’t want to be inundated at work by girls asking for my phone number.” He motioned with his head toward the lobby. "Although he does threaten to auction my number on eBay every time he needs a fund-raiser. That's why I’m always available."
"Well, he seems very nice."
Grant laughed, and I looked at him wondering what I’d said wrong.
He shook his head. "I just never imagined you'd be so polite."
I mentally chided myself. He was right. I'd never acted like Kari around him, but it seemed a little late for that now. Besides, being polite was good.
He said, “I guess since you put in an appearance here, I owe you a report on Lorna’s book.”
“That's not why I came.”
He raised an eyebrow. "So you’re saying you don’t want a report?”
He had me there. “No, I want it.”
"I’ll see how much information I can get from my agent. Lorna gave him a copy because she wants his advice on how to get around her nondisclosure contract. That’s how I found out about it.”
"Isn't the whole point of a nondisclosure contract that she can’t write a book?” I asked. I’d signed one myself, and it was pretty specific about that point.
His eyes shifted from the hallway to me. "She's claiming that you broke the contract by firing her without just cause, and she’s betting that you don’t want the conditions of her being fired brought out in court. Even if you stop her, your image is going to take some damage."
"That's so vindictive and malicious.” The words came out of my mouth with too much surprise. Kari had been upset last night, but not surprised. Plus, Kari probably wouldn’t have used the words vindictive and malicious. I made a mental note not to say any words I’d seen on the SAT vocabulary test.
“That’s why I told you about it in the first place," Grant said. "It’s bad enough that so many people make money off celebrities. They shouldn't make money by stabbing us in the back. I wouldn’t have helped her if I'd known she was going to do this.”
"You were smart to help her,” I said. "Now her sequel won’t be And Grant Delray Is a Jerk Too.”
He laughed, and the two of us slowed our pace even further. We'd reached the lobby. He said, "Can I buy you some lunch, or are you one of those girls who lives on a diet of cucumbers and unbuttered popcorn?"
"Do you really want me to say, or would you rather read about it in Lorna's book?”
He tilted his head and smiled. "Actually, that's one of the things I already know about you from Lorna. You claim to be a vegetarian but you cheat.”
"You know that?” I couldn’t keep the happiness out of my voice. "Good—I am so craving a cheeseburger. With bacon.” He laughed at me again. "Okay, it’s a date.” He glanced back at Bao-Zhi and must have judged his bodyguard skills to be lacking. "There’s a crowd forming in the parking lot outside the hospital. My dad can have the hospital security guard help you to your car, or you can ride with me. I'm parked in the back by the food service entrance.”
I tried to make it sound like I actually considered the options before I said, "I’ll ride with you.” I turned back to Bao-Zhi. "Can you please bring the car to the front of the hospital like you're waiting for me to come out? That should keep the fans there until I leave.”
Which was not only good crowd control, it meant I got to be alone with Grant.
I stepped closer to Bao-Zhi and whispered, "Don’t tell Maren about this and you’ll receive a really big tip.”
A few minutes later, Grant and I climbed into his dark green Jaguar and drove to an ocean-side restaurant with private rooms. Our room had a great view of the beach, but I hardly looked at it. Sand and waves just didn’t have the same appeal as sky blue eyes. Even though I really wanted a cheeseburger, I ordered an artichoke pasta salad because I was paranoid the waiter would tell the tabloids that I'd eaten meat. Grant changed his order to a bacon cheeseburger so we could switch meals after the waiter left. Really, he was such a nice guy.
Despite this fact, and the aforementioned hotness factor, I did not throw myself at him over lunch. I didn’t even use Seventeen magazine’s flirting tips with him. If pressed, I might admit that I smiled a lot, and maybe I had a hard time taking my eyes off of him, but I didn’t flirt. It was pointless.
I couldn't tell him who I really was, and if he started liking me, then he might show up someplace the real Kari was. That would be a really bad end to my high-paying job, not to mention the end to the best chance I had to meet my father. Besides, Grant knew someone who was writing a book on Kari, and despite the fact that he was laughing and joking now, he would probably not think it was okay that I'd lied to a hospital full of sick kids, or that Kari paid me to deceive people. I did not want Lorna writing a chapter entitled "Alexia, the Illegitimate Sister, and Kari Kingsley, Imposter."
During a lull in the conversation he looked over, his eyes openly appraising, and said, "I can’t get over how nice you are. Tell me again why you turned down the fund-raiser for the hospital?"
I was glad Kari had told me the answer to this question. "Well, you know I'm short on money right now. I couldn’t afford the new outfit, the choreographer, the backup dancers—my glam squad is expensive."
"You could have showed up in jeans and a T-shirt and no one would have cared.” He held a hand out as though offering the proof. "You didn’t pay a makeup artist and a hairstylist to fix you up this morning, did you? You're beautiful the way you are."
I would have answered him, and I’m sure I would have said something really coherent too, except that I was too busy blushing and grinning like an idiot.
And then the waiter came to refill our water glasses and ask us if everything was okay.
Oh, yes. Things were so much better than okay. The coolest guy in existence had just said I was beautiful.
Lunch went by too fast and then Grant paid the bill and asked where I wanted him to drop me off. I told him I needed to go to my assistant's house. As
we walked through the restaurant, every person we passed stopped and stared at us. For a few moments, I felt like I really was a celebrity walking beside Grant Delray. And I wasn’t just walking, I was gliding. The walk was all about attitude, I realized; you couldn't help but glide when you felt this way.
As soon as we stepped out of the restaurant, I saw the paparazzi. Two men with huge cameras stood outside the door, along with a dozen people who were loitering around. How had they found us?
Stupid question. So many people had seen us walk in together. Any of them could have called someone. Why hadn't I considered this before I agreed to go to lunch?
Kari had given me strict instructions to either smile at or ignore anyone with a camera. "Don't scowl,” Kari said. “Magazines love to use scowling pictures when they run horrible headlines about you."
So I smiled and told myself I was not allowed to rip the cameras out of their hands and clang them together like cymbals. While the shutters went off, one man asked, "Are the two of you dating?"
Yes, well, that would make an interesting story, wouldn't it? Maren was going to kill me. Kari was going to kill me even worse.
Grant shook his head like it was a foolish question. "Nope. We’re just talking about doing a duet and donating the proceeds to Sun Ridge Children’s Hospital. That's spelled: S-U-N R-I-D-G-E. It's going to be great, and we really appreciate your support in getting the word out to our fans.”
Grant took hold of my arm then, probably because I stood frozen to the spot, hands gripped at my side. He towed me the rest of the way across the parking lot to his Jaguar.
Once we were both sitting inside and I’d stopped hyperventilating enough to speak, I said, "We’re doing a duet? Where did that come from?”
He turned on the ignition and pulled out of the parking space. "You obviously still have a lot to learn about the paparazzi. The best chance you have of getting reporters not to use your story is if you tell them you want them to run it. They don’t care about helping you advertise your latest cause. Everybody has one of those. They want something scandalous.” He looked back over his shoulder to where the photographers were climbing in their cars. "My manager let all the news outlets know about the Sun Ridge fundraiser, and a total of one newspaper put a three-inch picture and write-up in the entertainment section. That was it.”
"Oh,” I said, and felt a little more relieved. Maybe those pictures wouldn’t show up anywhere.
Grant eased the car out of the parking lot and onto the street. "Of course that doesn’t mean we shouldn't do a duet. Actually, that's a brilliant idea.” He took his eyes off the road to look at me. "You want to help those kids, and this time it wouldn’t cost you anything but a little time. We could use my band. What do you think?”
I thought I had made a really big tactical mistake. I couldn't sing a duet with him. My singing voice sounded nothing like Kari’s. She could hit notes I couldn’t even swat at. "I’m already behind schedule on my next album,” I said.
He turned his attention back to the road. "It doesn't have to be soon, just sometime. Think about it. Keep your eyes open for songs that would work, and I’ll do the same, okay?"
What could I say to that? I couldn't think of a way to turn him down without sounding like I was hiding something.
"I’ll talk to my manager about it,” I said.
He said other things on the way to Maren's, but I hardly heard them. My mind was still stuck on the whole duet business. How in the world was I going to mention all of that plus the paparazzi pictures to Maren and Kari? Would they fire me right off? That's what Kari had done when Lorna had put her in an awkward situation. Was there any way I could keep it from them until May 13, when I met my father? It was still almost a month and a half away.
When we pulled up to Maren’s town house, I was still running these sorts of mental calculations. Grant put the car in park but didn’t turn it off. "Can I ask you a question?”
I grasped the door handle. "Sure."
"Are you still an item with Michael Jung?”
"No," I said, then I realized what he was really asking—he was about to ask me out, and I couldn’t say yes, even though I would have loved to see him again. It was too dangerous. "I mean, we’re taking a break, but we're still together.”
"You're taking a break?" he asked.
"Yes."
"So are you allowed to see other people during your break?”
"Um, no.” As soon as I said this I remembered Grant had seen me last night with Stefano. "Except professionally, like last night.”
He nodded. "Can I have your phone number, then? Just for professional use. I'll need to contact you when I find more out about Lorna’s book.”
He smiled at me, and despite the fact that I couldn’t encourage him, chills ran up my spine. Grant Delray wanted my phone number. I gave him my cell number, stepped out of his car, and then did a Kari Kingsley glide up the stairs to Maren’s house.
I opened the door and found Maren in the living room waiting for me. Her arms were crossed, and her nostrils flared like a wild bull.
She stepped toward me, pinching her lips together. "The director of the Sun Ridge Children's Hospital just called to pass along their thanks. The patients were thrilled by your visit.”
"They're sick little kids—” I started, but she didn't let me finish.
“It was a stupid thing to do!” she yelled, leaning until she was about six inches away from my face. Then she let out a stream of swearwords that would have put boys hanging out in a locker room to shame.
"You don’t go out in public, and you don't pretend to be Kari unless I okay it. You can't use her identity every time you think it would be fun to play celebrity. One mistake and you'll blow everything we’ve worked for. Do you understand? Do you?"
I nodded.
She took a step back, suddenly calm again. "If you play this right, you'll go home with a nice chunk of money. If you mess up, I'll deny I've ever seen you and you'll be hitch hiking to West Virginia. Do you understand?"
Yes, I did understand. All her talk in the beginning about making fans happy with visits from Kari wasn’t true. She'd hired me for the money I could bring in, and that was all.
She sent me a challenging gaze. "Since you obviously feel you’re ready for your role as Kari, you won’t mind that I added a couple of appearances to your calendar next week."
I knew she expected me to protest, but I didn't. I was ready.