I knew that feeling. I hoped maybe it would work out better for Ryan than it was working out for me. I sighed. "Go get her, Ryan. But if you hurt her ..." I barely had the strength to make the threat.
"You and Gran will team up to remove my balls," he suggested.
"Something like that." I had no doubt Gran knew more about what was going on than I did. I'd been so wrapped up in my own world. In Jace.
Ryan left the room and I sat at the table for a while, comforted in a strange way by Jace's silent presence in the doorway. I looked over at him, but if he had thoughts about everything that had just happened, he wasn't sharing them now. He stood silent, his back to me, both of us sharing the pain and hurt that might as well have been a canyon between us.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Jace
I listened as Tess and Ryan revealed their relationship, and tried to understand whether Juliet was angry, or jealous, or ... what. At first, it seemed like she was angry. She wasn't with McDonnell, but she didn't want anyone else to be either? But then, as her sister rambled, furious, I realized it wasn't about McDonnell. It was something else, something older, that lay between Juliet and Tess. My heart ached, listening to Juliet’s pain, and I wanted to step into the room and tell Tess she was wrong about her sister, that Juliet was caring, giving, that she cared too much about other people, even.
Of course Chad had no such thoughts, apparently—he felt sympathy for no one. He stood in the hallway, having been summoned from his post by the front door when the voices escalated around the dinner table. He leaned casually against the wall, just out of view, and chuckled at the misery of those in the dining room, raising his brows at me as if to say, "rich folks have issues too."
When things had settled down, he returned to his post, brushing a bit too close to me and bumping my shoulder on his way by.
"Watch it," I growled.
"We all should," he returned. Was that a threat?
Gran had escaped back into her gaming lair, and Tess headed upstairs as soon as the argument had ended, followed soon after by Ryan.
I waited, but Juliet sat still at the dining room table for a long time, her head in her hands. I wanted to sit down beside her, talk to her, but I couldn't do that with Chad lurking nearby. Instead, as our shifts came to an end and I handed off duty with Jack and Christian, I went into my room and sat on the end of my bed for a while, staring into the paneled door and trying to unravel my own feelings.
I was certain I was falling in love with Juliet, if I wasn't there already. But I was equally certain it would never work between us. How could it, when there was such an enormous disparity there? Maybe she was right, maybe it shouldn't matter. And I guess maybe if I could solve everyone's problems with a wave of my hand, by writing a check or just calling my bank, maybe I'd actually believe it didn't matter. But the reality was that it did matter.
To me, at least.
I heard the house quieting around me, heard the settling creaks of the old foundation, the sounds of faucets in distant corners upstairs being turned on and off. I heard the cicadas out my open window, their chorus joined by frogs and other night creatures all creating a thrum of constant sound that seemed to be getting louder and louder until I thought it might drive me insane. I pushed to my feet and was out of my room before I'd decided on a destination or thought much about anything besides the misery welling inside me, keeping the beat with the Maryland night.
Sounds were coming from the far corner of the house, punctuated by Gran's occasional cackle or curse, and though I was pretty sure she wouldn't appreciate the interruption, I followed them anyway, but lingered right outside the door. Gran sat at her computer, very active in the big gaming chair, which rocked with her movements as she navigated across the screen with her mouse. She wore a giant headset, and had a joint smoldering in a nearby ashtray. I wasn't scared of much, but Gran made me a little uneasy.
"Fucking children," Gran spat at the screen as I hesitated. "Next time you ask me to group with you, check your birth certificate first. If you haven't turned eighteen yet, move along. And quit asking me for my Judgement armor. You have no idea how much actual money I spent to get gold for this set, you little nincompoop!" The old woman dropped her headset into her chair and spun, spotting me immediately. "Come on, gorilla," she said, as if she knew she'd find me loitering behind her. "Let's get a drink."
I glanced around, but I was the only gorilla she could have been referring to. For a second I thought she was demanding I take her to a bar or something, but she floated past me in her fluffy brown wombat slippers and headed for the kitchen. "You coming?" She called back.
I followed her, confused and off balance.
"Which one are you?" She asked, pausing at the kitchen counter and turning around to assess me.
"Jace, Ma'am."
She took a long moment, scanning me from head to toe, her eyes finally coming back up to rest on my face. "You're the one Juliet has the hots for, right?"
A distant squawk from the house chicken was timed perfectly, as if to confirm this. Which was fine for Chessy, but I owed it to Juliet not to discuss this, didn't I? I rubbed a hand across my jaw, my mind twisting more slowly than normal after all the muddle of the day. "I mean, no," I started. "She's dating Mr. McDonnell."
"Bullshit," Gran said. She turned back to the counter and opened up a cabinet, revealing an impressive liquor collection. "You like bourbon, Gorilla?"
"It's Jace, Ma'am."
"Answer the question. You're off the clock, right? Though honestly, I can't figure out what you henchmen think you're guarding us from all the way out here. Rabid groundhogs, maybe. That's about as spicy as it gets down this way."
I had seen several groundhogs on the property, especially at dusk, now that I thought about it. None of them had been foaming at the mouth that I'd noticed, however. "Um, sure," I said.
"Sure, you think we're all in danger from infected whistle pigs, or sure, you like bourbon?"
"Bourbon, Ma'am."
She sighed dramatically and turned to face me, the sequins on the arms of her purple sweat suit catching the light and twinkling like glitter. "Quit calling me ma'am. Makes me feel old. I can't drink with someone who's calling me ma'am all the time, dammit." She turned back around and began pulling bottles from the cabinet and placing them on the counter. "Just call me Gran, like everyone else," she said.
"Sure," I agreed, feeling like we'd reached some kind of settlement. I leaned against the doorway, watching her. I liked her tell-it-like-it-is attitude, and wished my own mom had a little bit more of whatever it was that made Gran tick. But there was a lot to like about my own mother’s quiet sweetness, too.
"Now where did Tessy hide it?" she was asking, rising up onto her tiptoes to try to see into the back of the cabinet. "Harambe, is there a jar back up in there? You're like a skyscraper, you should be able to see back there."
I frowned at her latest choice of moniker—wasn't Harambe the poor gorilla they shot at the zoo? Gran was far from PC, I wasn’t sure why I was surprised. I decided not to say anything, but stepped forward and pulled a jar from the back of the cabinet, where I had no doubt Tess had tried to hide it. "Is this ..."
"Moonshine. You got it." Gran cackled with delight and then pulled two small glasses from another cabinet. "You and me, Ivan. One shot and then I'm going to teach you to make a Manhattan. The right way."
Gran was not asking me. She was telling me. And since I was tired, and my head was a mess, I just nodded when the old woman handed me a shot of clear liquid that smelled like jet fuel mixed with peaches.
"Maryland's finest."
I sipped at the liquid as Gran pounded hers. It actually wasn't bad, despite the burning sensation it caused in my throat. I swallowed the rest and put my glass on the counter next to hers.
"All right," Gran said, pulling a shaker from the sink and rinsing it out. "Now, most people make a Manhattan with Rye. What about you, Gulliver?"
"It's Jace," I said,
though I was beginning to admire her creativity. "Unless you want me to call you a Lilliputian."
"Ha!" Gran laughed. "So you do have a personality. And you’ve read Gulliver’s Travels! I guess I can use your actual name. I was running out of giant and gorilla names anyway. I was going for King Kong next, though. Kinda sad I'm not gonna get to use that one."
"You can call me Kong if it makes you happy," I told her, earning a smile.
"Jace works too," she said.
"I make a Manhattan with Maker's Mark," I told her, gesturing at the low square bottle.
Gran turned to me with a raised eyebrow. "That sounds good," she said. "You make it, then. I'm old. I'll sit and watch. But narrate while you do it. I’ll pretend you’re a cabana boy, waiting on me in my private Caribbean cottage.” She raised an eyebrow and gave me a lecherous smile before the expression fell from her face and she let out a sigh. “Never mind, pretending to flirt is exhausting. Just make the drinks, KoKo.”
I laughed, relaxing a little for the first time all night. "Okay," I said, moving to the counter as Gran took a seat at the table.
"Make two," she said. "When you're done we're having a chat."
"Two parts Makers," I said, narrating what I was doing as I poured and mixed. "One part sweet vermouth, and I'm going to use these spiced orange bitters. A couple drops of cherry juice and two Luxardos per glass. Sound good?" I glanced over my shoulder and Gran gave me a huge toothy grin.
Once I'd shaken the drinks and poured them out, I served her one and joined her at the table.
"Cheers," I said, raising my glass.
"Chin chin," she said.
We both sipped and Gran closed her eyes for a long second after taking a drink. Then she bobbed her head once and regarded me through narrowed eyes. "Yes. I like it," she said. "You're all right, Kong."
Pleased to know I'd passed some kind of test, I leaned back a bit, enjoying the sweet burn of the drink as I waited for Gran to tell me what we were going to talk about. I already knew it was going to involve Juliet, I just wasn't sure what she knew or what she might think about it all.
"So," she said. "You don't seem like a complete moron."
A chuckle escaped my lips at what I perceived to be a compliment. "Thanks?"
"But you're sitting in the kitchen, drinking with an old lady, while Juliet is upstairs, upset."
There was no use pretending Juliet was with Ryan, I guessed. "It's complicated," I told her.
"Oh for fuck's sake, you people and your complications." She took another sip, put her glass down, and leaned forward, fixing clear blue eyes on me. "Life is short, Kong. I know I make old look good, but not everyone is so lucky. And if there's one thing I know about Juliet, it's that she won't be alone for long. She hates being alone. That's why she chooses idiots to keep her company. She figures anyone is better than the silence of her own mind.” Gran leaned back again, crossed her arms. "She still have that ridiculous narcoleptic dog?"
I smiled, thinking of Elvis. "She does."
"Surprised she didn't insist on bringing the mutt along."
"He's with my mother, actually."
That stopped Gran cold. Her mouth dropped open. "So. This is serious then." Gran watched me carefully, then took another long sip from her glass. "Tell me."
It wasn't in my nature to talk intimately with people I barely knew, but Gran's invitation—and the Manhattan, and maybe the moonshine—came at the right time. I needed to talk. So I did. I told her I loved her granddaughter. I told her it had been me in her room. When I'd finished, wrapping things up with my confusion over my own feelings, the way Juliet's generosity made me feel small, Gran just nodded.
As she drank the rest of her cocktail and picked up the toothpick holding the cherries, she seemed to be thinking. "Gender roles," she finally said. "When we will ever really be able to let them go?"
I didn’t have an answer, so I sighed, finished my own drink, and waited for her to go on.
"If it had been you saving her family," she said, "we'd have no issues here. If the man is the one with the money, the one who rides in and saves the damsel, everyone's just fucking peachy."
She had a point.
"But you, Grape Ape ... you and every other hulking mountain of man in this country and most of the world ..." she shook her head and looked down at the table, as if disappointed in my reaction before she'd even finished talking. "You can't accept that a woman might be capable of giving you something you couldn't get yourself. And your ego won't let you just say thank you."
"I want to. I know I should ..."
"Look," she said. "This is not complicated. Juliet has a generous and lonely heart. When she sees someone she can help, she helps. She spends half her time and money trying to save the battered women of the world. If you’ve spent any time with her you know that.”
I did know that. I’d gone with her a few times over the last year to the shelter she supported in Hollywood, and I’d heard a few of the conversations she’d had with her accountant as she’d walked through the house. She gave generously.
“And if you leave her,” Gran went on, “because she helped, you'll just be proving what she already believes. That she is destined to be alone no matter what she does. Let me ask you this. If she hadn't helped, could you be together then?"
I thought about that. How I would have had to scramble to try to keep Mom safe, to keep Jarred clean. I wouldn't have had the resources to do either, and I would have been looking for ways to manage. There wouldn't have been time for Juliet. And being near her, surrounded by wealth while my family suffered would be nearly impossible. "I don't want it to be about the money."
"But it is," Gran finished.
"It is."
"Kong, here's the truth. Money is just lubrication. It makes things move more easily, but man cannot survive on a diet of KY Jelly alone, right?"
I wasn't sure if Gran had just made a sex lube analogy or if I was just drunk. "Weird analogy, but okay."
"Why would you resist the lubrication if someone's willing to squeeze some out for you?" Gran shot me an impish smile.
"We're going with this KY Jelly thing, huh?" I threw back the rest of my drink, fortifying myself to discuss lube with a ninety-year-old woman.
"I'm on a roll," Gran said. "Why shove things in, causing pain and complications, when you can just accept the glide and move forward? Juliet's just smoothed the way, taken care of the sticky issues so you can keep things moving."
I frowned. Was it as simple as that? Had Juliet just eliminated barriers to our ability to be together? Was sexual lubricant really the right analogy for this situation?
"Give Juliet a chance to be an actual person. Don't make her about her money," Gran suggested. "If you do that, you're no better than that pooptaco, Zac."
Let her be an actual person, I thought. God, had I made her all about her money? I had. That's exactly what I was doing. I nodded, realization dawning. "You're right."
"Little known fact, Harambe," Gran said, standing. "I'm always right."
"I'll remember that," I said.
Gran shuffled toward the doorway, her fuzzy slippers making a swooshing sound against the tile floor. "Be sure to hide the moonshine, or Tess will have both our hides in the morning," she said. And then the old woman was gone, and I was left to clean up.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Juliet
I sat in my room late into the night, thinking. If I made a list of days that ranked most crappy in my life, this one might not have made the list—it turned out I'd had a lot of crappy days—but then again, it wasn't going rank among my favorites either. I'd tried to do something nice, to show Jace I cared about him, about his family, and it had blown up in my face. And then Tess had accused me of making everything about me.
For pretty much my whole life.
By the time dinner was over, I had needed some quiet time, some time alone. And as much as I wanted to dive into the shelter of Jace's arms, I wasn't sure those arms were the safe
place they'd been before. I wasn't sure where I stood with him at all. I went upstairs, feeling heavy and worn out, like the dinner conversation had sucked the energy out of me, left me empty.
My room was quiet and soothing, the rosy light coming from the corner lamp cast a glow across the floor and the bed. I took a deep breath as I closed the door behind me, looking around. This room had been mine since we moved into this house with Gran when I was a little girl. I remembered Gran on a ladder, painting the walls pink because that was what I'd had at home. She'd brought my fluffy bedspread and all the stuffed animals from my room at my parents' house, and done everything she could to make it feel like home. But I'd felt as empty back then as I did right now—like maybe somehow the world was too big for me, like I just didn't fit into it.
As I'd stepped in from the hallway, I'd heard a giggle from Tess's room—Ryan was in there, I supposed. And I knew I should be happy for them, happy someone was finding the world a little easier to navigate than I did.
After I'd brushed my teeth and washed my face, I curled up on my bed, pulling one of the frilly pillows against my chest and pushing my nose into its soft edge.
It was time to take stock, I figured. The recent events in my life—Zac cheating on me spectacularly and now blackmailing me, Jace essentially telling me he felt differently about me because I had more money than he did—they seemed to be sending a message I needed to absorb. The person I was, or the people I'd been surrounding myself with—it wasn't working.
I squeezed my eyes shut tighter, my heart twisting inside my chest. Who else could I be?
Jace's rejection was the hardest to swallow because I'd actually believed that to him I wasn't just some movie star. He'd made me feel seen in a way no one ever had, not even my own sister.
But something had gotten broken along the way.
I was just beginning to sink into my self pity, feeling the waves of despair lap around me, when my phone chimed with a text. I nearly ignored it, figuring it was Zac with more threats, my agent checking in, or the lawyer telling me how much she thought it was going to take to pay Zac off for good. I sighed and rolled across the bed to pull the phone from my nightstand.
Happily Ever Hers: Movie Stars in Maryland, Book Two Page 16
