Page 24 of The Redhead Series


  “It’s coming from the fact that we’re going to be three thousand miles away from each other, and I’m scared to death about what’s going to happen. Maybe I shouldn’t be so involved already, but I am. And even though you probably should be involved with somebody else, I hate the idea,” I said angrily, sitting up straight.

  “Be with anyone else? Why don’t you let me decide who I want to be with? Is this something I need to worry about? You seem awfully defensive. Something you want to tell me, Grace?” he asked, watching me carefully.

  “Oh, please. You’re the one who’s going to have a pussy parade to choose from as soon as you pop back up on the grid. They’ll be falling over with their legs in the air, and it can be just like before you started spending your evenings with Ma Kettle,” I snapped.

  He glared at me, running his hands roughly through his hair. “Grace, you are bloody insane! Are you bent on fucking this up before we really even get going? And a pussy parade? You’re really pushing it,” he said, the warning clear in his voice.

  I shoved myself out of the chair and stalked over to the ledge, looking out at the city—the city that I was leaving. In two days. Why the hell was I picking a fight with him now?

  I spun about fast, seeing him sitting in the chair dejectedly. He looked confused and hurt and pissed as hell.

  Would you quit trying to mess this up?

  I walked back over and stood in front of him. He didn’t look up.

  “Jack?” I asked, trying to get him to look at me. He didn’t answer. I tried again. “Hey, look at me. Please?” I asked.

  His eyes closed at the word please. “I’m pissed at you, Gracie,” he said darkly, but the use of the name Gracie let me know he was more hurt than pissed.

  “I know. I’m pissed at myself right now. Can you understand why I’m nervous, though?” I inquired, daring to reach out another hand to his hair, scratching at his scalp.

  He ducked away from my hand; he wasn’t going to let this slide so easily. “I get why you’re nervous to leave, but I don’t get why you think I’d do something like that. If this is gonna work, especially when we’re apart, there needs to be some basic trust,” he said, finally opening his eyes and looking at me.

  Oh, man, he was better equipped at twenty-four to deal with this than I was.

  “I know, love. You have to understand, I’ve got thirty-three years’ worth of crap baggage knocking around behind me, and if you take me, you take the baggage. Old insecurities . . . they’re a bitch.”

  “You don’t think I’m nervous about this, too? The timing of this whole thing is crap. We’re crazy to even try to make this work, but I think it’s crazy not to. I don’t know what’s going to happen, either, Gracie. We might be totally fucked.”

  “I agree,” I answered, frowning.

  “You need to settle down, though. No more pussy parade. That was uncalled for,” he said, his face serious. “And quit blaming our age difference when it’s your shit that’s making this weird right now.”

  I paused and took in what he’d said. He was right. This was all my shit.

  I reached out tentatively, approaching the scalp scratch once more. This time, he let me.

  “Fucking Nuts Girl.” He sighed, closing his eyes again in acceptance.

  “How about we just take it as it comes, and we’ll see how we manage the distance thing? We don’t need to decide anything tonight . . . yes?” I said.

  He leaned in and pressed his face against my stomach, embracing me and pulling me into him.

  “Yes,” he said, his voice muffled as he hugged me. We were quiet for a minute as I played with his hair. “Grace?” he asked, still muffled.

  “Mmm-hmm?”

  “You’re thirty-three?” he asked my tummy.

  “Yep.” The jig was up.

  “Fuck, you’re old,” he said, holding me tighter. He knew to restrain me.

  “Hating you right now, Hamilton,” I said, seething.

  “Loving you right now, Sheridan.” He laughed.

  Shit storm over . . . or was this just a shit squall?

  I managed to get out of his grip and walk over to the hot tub and slowly slipped out of my tank top and shorts. He watched me as I removed my bra and panties and slid into the water.

  “You can’t love me from over there. Now, get your ass in here and make this thirty-three-year-old scream,” I said, leaning back against the rim with my arms spread out, making sure my breasts bobbed just above the surface.

  He was in the tub in thirty-seven seconds.

  And that was the night I found out Jack Hamilton could hold his breath underwater for an obscenely long time.

  We slept deeply that night, pleasantly exhausted. Curled up with his hands on my breasts, I slept the sleep of the solidly fucked. And that can be taken several ways.

  The next morning dawned clear and sunny—classic California for my last full day in L.A. And I would be spending it mostly alone. Jack was up early, and I watched from the bed as he changed. He had interviews all day and was taking a lunch meeting with Holly and a new director for a movie he was hoping to do in the spring. He had essentially quit working once Time was finished shooting, devoting his time to the upcoming media blitz that would take him halfway around the world and back again.

  I sighed happily at the sight of my Jack walking around sleepily, dressed only in his jeans and no shirt. His hair was extra curly this morning, and he looked adorable. He smiled when he caught me staring and asked what I had planned for today.

  “Well, I’m finishing up some last-minute packing, and then I’m having lunch with Nick to say good-bye. I’ve gotta go over to my house late this afternoon to sign the last few work orders, and then I’m officially moved in, just to move back out.” I tossed him his shirt, which was on the floor next to my bed. I couldn’t resist giving it a quick sniff.

  Mmm, s’mores and sex.

  “Grace, did you just sniff my shirt?” he asked, incredulous.

  “Yep, I did. And after you leave, I’ll probably lie on your side of the bed for a while because the pillow smells like you. I’m ridiculous when I’m in love. We’re talking Hallmark here.” I giggled, hugging his pillow to my chest and taking deep breaths in, flaring my nostrils and widening my eyes.

  “Wow, that’s not attractive.” He laughed, taking in my display. I curled up on his side anyway and continued to watch him putter about.

  “What time are you heading over to your house?” he asked. “Maybe I’ll meet you there. I need to take a look at that master bathroom before I start sledgehammering, to make way for . . . the steam shower!” He suddenly landed on the bed next to me, wrapping my neck in a choke hold like a pro wrestler.

  “Like you know how to install a steam shower, pretty boy,” I said teasingly, enduring an old-school noogie smackdown.

  “I would supervise, obviously. I can’t let these hands get too dirty,” he said seriously, admiring his hands. I rolled my eyes, and he went back to scrubbing the top of my head with his knuckles.

  “I’m meeting Chad there at five.”

  “Perfect timing. I should be finishing up with my last interview about then. I’ll swing by,” he said, finally releasing me.

  He finished getting ready and purposefully avoided my eyes when he snuck the ball cap into his back pocket. But he didn’t put it on, so he was still honoring the agreement.

  Down in the kitchen, I made him toast, slightly burned with lots of marmalade (he really was like my own Paddington Bear . . . he was Hamilton Bear) and wrapped it in a paper towel so he could eat it in the car. I put a travel mug of coffee next to his bag while he gathered up the rest of his things. He wasn’t exactly packing up, but I did notice that some extra things were on their way out, like his cell charger, which had been plugged in next to mine for the last few weeks.

  Grace, you don’t have time to panic.

  He smiled when he saw the coffee ready to go for him. “Love you, Nuts Girl.”

  “Love you more,
Sweet Nuts,” I answered back, shaking my boobies at him. He raised an eyebrow and then left, blowing a kiss over his shoulder.

  “See you at five!” he shouted, and soon after, I heard his car pulling away.

  Then I was alone. I went up to my room to finish packing. I looked around, starting to feel blue again . . . and saw a note on my pillow! I smiled and opened it.

  Quit pouting and get your packing done. And you look damn good for 48 years old. Tee hee?

  My laughter broke through the stillness of the house.

  twenty-four

  So that was it. I packed my last box, packed my last suitcase. FedEx picked up the things that I was shipping to New York. They’d be delivered to the hotel, which had agreed to hold them until my new sublet was ready. Holly’s friend had found me a great one-bedroom on the Upper West Side in the sixties, relatively close to the theater district. Not knowing how long I’d be in New York, I’d wanted a nice central location in a good neighborhood, close to everything I needed.

  I had briefly considered moving to New York right after college, but since Holly and I knew more people in L.A. and thought it would be a better career move, we’d ended up on the West Coast. But secretly, I always regretted not having lived in Manhattan, and I was grateful for the opportunity to live there, even if just for a few months—to experience the city as a resident and not merely a visitor. I’d traveled to the city frequently for work and always loved spending time there.

  Now that I was less than twenty-four hours from actually being there, I was losing some of the nerves.

  My semiargument with Jack yesterday had cleared the air a bit and I felt better. When he told me he loved me, there was a feeling inside of me that was hard to describe. It was like a tugging in my stomach and a rush through my skin, hot and cold at the same time. I felt giddy and silly and thrilled when I heard him say those words. And to see his eyes light up when I said it to him was enthralling.

  The day passed by quickly, and before I knew it, I was headed over to my house on Laurel Canyon, the late-afternoon sun casting dappled light through the Italian cypress trees across the winding road. The top was down, the music loud, and my smile big as I enjoyed the ending of this day.

  I’d miss my friends desperately, but Holly already had a ticket to fly out for a weekend at the end of the month. Jack’s schedule was getting increasingly tight, but I knew he’d come as soon as he could. There would be plenty of movie-related visits in the upcoming months.

  I pulled into my driveway just after five but didn’t see Chad’s truck. I hoped that I hadn’t missed him . . . maybe I’d beaten him here. I unlocked the front door, pausing to take in the smell of new construction mixed with the potted lemon trees placed just outside the front door. It was strange that a house I had never spent a night in already felt more like a home than anything I’d ever had before. I loved staying with Holly, but when I got back from New York, I’d be glad to have my own home.

  I set my keys down on the table that I’d placed in the entryway and listened to the click-clack on the smooth tile as I walked toward the living room.

  As soon as I rounded the corner, I heard, “Surprise!”

  “Holy shit!” I screamed as people came pouring out of rooms, from behind couches, and in from the patio.

  All of my friends were there, some of Holly’s other clients, Lane and Rebecca, and of course, the two ringleaders. Holly and Jack were standing in front of the fireplace, looking incredibly proud of themselves and smiling at me.

  I approached them, pushing my way through the wall of people offering me congratulations and good-byes. Someone put a glass of champagne in my hand, and I noticed the sign hung over the archway: BON VOYAGE, ASSHEAD!

  Jesus.

  “Nice touch with the asshead.” I smirked at Holly, knowing that was all her.

  She laughed and raised her glass. “I thought you’d like that.” She clinked her glass to mine.

  I turned to smile at Jack, but his mouth was already on its way to my neck. He kissed me quickly, moving his lips up my ear.

  “Are you surprised?” he asked, sucking my earlobe into his mouth and kissing it softly.

  The butterflies were back in my tummy. I loved when he did that.

  “I am. This is nice,” I answered, leaning into him as his lips moved down my neck toward my collarbone. “That’s nice, too . . .” My words trailed off as he reached my shoulder, kissing it lightly. His hands slipped around my waist, and he moved me in front of him, resting his chin on my shoulder.

  This all took place in less than a minute, but the intimacy was all-encompassing. The sweet way he manipulated my body, the way he claimed me so publicly and so privately at the same time, was endearing. I clutched his hands tighter into my tummy, hugging him to me as we stood.

  Our relationship had blossomed very quickly and mostly privately, so I saw a few curious glances in our direction. Mainly, though, there were amused and kind faces smiling back at us.

  Jack stayed with me as I greeted my guests, delighted to meet my friends and acquaintances. Some were new, people I’d met since I’d moved back to L.A., and some dated back to when I was there the first time.

  Nick delighted in telling the story of the first night Jack and I were together, regaling the crowd with what he had seen as well as what he’d heard as he and Holly ate popcorn on the staircase like two Peeping Toms.

  The night was perfect, with the people I loved most surrounding me.

  Everyone was so complimentary about my new home, and I showed it off like a proud mama. All the furniture had finally been delivered, and while there was still a lot to be done, it was finished enough that it had a sense of self—it felt like me. Jack was telling Nick about the closet he wanted to knock out to make room for the steam shower, and Nick pretended to look interested while he was really just staring at the pretty.

  I talked to everyone, thanked them all for their well wishes for New York, and promised countless times that I’d be back.

  Jack stayed with me some of the time, and other times he mingled. I watched him from across the room, talking to Rebecca and Lane, and several times he caught me staring. He always waved or winked or showed me his middle finger, a rather rude habit he seemed to have picked up from me.

  God, I loved him.

  Much later, Holly and I found ourselves outside as the party began to wind down. They’d strung up Christmas lights throughout the trees and hung Japanese lanterns so that the entire backyard was glowing. And by they, I mean the party planner Jack and Holly had hired.

  We sat in the Adirondack chairs on the patio, drinking dirty martinis and toasting our successes.

  “Can you believe the last party we were at, we were celebrating your new management company?” I asked, tipping my glass to her.

  “Yeah, and that was the night you got asked to have a little tryst.” She drained her glass.

  “That’s true. Tryst accomplished. Holly, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. Really. I—”

  “Save it for your Tony Awards acceptance speech, okay? I can’t handle anything like that tonight,” she said, her eyes suddenly glistening.

  I looked at my best friend, who would lie down in front of a bus for me, and smiled. I thought about everything we had been through and everything we’d continue to share with each other.

  “Olive juice, Holly,” I said, smiling at her through the tears beginning to burn in my own eyes.

  “Olive juice, too, ya little fruitcake.” She smiled back, grabbing the rest of my martini and polishing it off as well. She pushed out of her chair and headed into the house.

  I sat for a minute, smiling up at the stars, and then went in to say good night to the last few guests.

  Jack was waiting for me and swept me into a close hug. “How soon do you think we can kick these stragglers out without seeming rude?” he whispered, biting down on his lower lip as I ran my hands through his thick curls.

  “You want t
hem gone, you just say the word,” I said, feeling sassy from the two martinis and the champagne. I’d pay for this when I was stuck on a plane for over five hours tomorrow.

  “I want them gone, Grace,” he stated firmly, his hands sneaking down and cupping my backside. Fuck, I loved it when he took charge.

  “Done,” I answered, crashing my lips to his for a quick but very passionate kiss.

  Then I pulled away and began a herding motion toward the front door. The last few people there, including Holly and Nick, looked at me as if I were crazy.

  “Let’s go, people, move it out. Have you seen this tall drink of water here? Well, Mr. Hamilton and I are going to be going at it in about seven minutes, and unless you want to see some serious good-bye fuckin’, you’d best get to steppin’,” I told the group, continuing to herd them toward the front door.

  My friends knew better than to stay, and they laughed as they hugged and kissed me good-bye.

  Jack looked on with an amused expression at my brazen room-clearing methods as I walked Rebecca and Lane to the door.

  Lane gave me a monster hug. “Thanks for having us at your bon voyage party, Grace. Nice digs, by the way. We’ll break this house in proper when you get back,” he said, ruffling up my hair with his giant hands.

  “That’s a promise. I’m so glad you were here tonight.” I kissed him on the cheek.

  He blushed, and I heard him saying, “Aw, man . . . ,” as he walked out to his car.

  Rebecca turned to me. “I have to tell you, even though I know Jack is going to miss the shit out of you, I think it’s awesome what you’re doing. I know you’ll do well. If I make it out to New York this fall, can I come see you?”

  “Hell yes, you can! I expect a call any time you’re anywhere near the Big Apple,” I said, giving her a hug. “And, Rebecca?” I said, frowning a little.

  “I’ll watch out for him. Keep the skanks away,” she said, reading my expression.

  “Thank you. Keep ’em far back! I may be three thousand miles away, but I can still kick some ass if I need to.”