by Lee Winter
What? Her attention swung to Grace.
“Case in point,” she continued. “Look, I know it’s amusing having someone follow you around and hang off your every word, but don’t let it distract you. Not even if Hayes can help get you that Frenchman’s role you want. Head in the game, Bess.” Grace tapped her temple. “Stay focused. Always.” After a warning look, she brushed Elizabeth’s cheek with her lips, and left.
That simple motion, done so carelessly, burned as always. Elizabeth felt the familiar visceral reaction. A coil of desire, sharp and needy, swirled through her. It didn’t matter how often she told her body that Grace was not hers and never would be. It didn’t care. Grace was Grace. And that was all there was to it.
After she heard Grace’s Jaguar start, her words filtered back into Elizabeth’s brain.
I know it’s amusing having someone follow you around and hang off your every word…
I know.
Distaste and dismay churned in her stomach. Was that how Grace saw her? Or did she just mean in general? After all, a whole nation adored Grace Christie-Oberon back home. Who was Elizabeth to Grace? That simple question had tortured her for years.
“Hey, ducky—still with us?”
Elizabeth turned to find Alex leaning against the hallway wall, giving her a quizzical look. How long had she been standing there? “Of course.” Elizabeth smiled.
“Everyone’s having a smoke and chat out by the pool. Come on, let me help you clean up.”
“I don’t think there’s much left to do. Summer did most of it earlier.”
“Not Grace, huh? Color me shocked.”
That deserved a chuckle. “Well, she was more the entertainment value than the muscle.”
“I’ll bet.”
They fell into a wordless routine in the kitchen, having done this many times before.
“Sooo…” Alex handed her a pair of wine glasses, “shall we talk about it?”
Elizabeth slid the stemware into the dishwasher with a sigh. It wouldn’t be a party night without Alex prodding over its entrails like a pathologist.
“Talk about what?”
“Grace’s OTT-ness.”
Grace? Not Summer? That earned her attention. “How do you mean?”
“Way over the top for her. Possessive as hell over Amrit. Full velvet bitch mode on Summer.”
“She wasn’t exactly bitchy. That’s just her idea of amusing herself.”
“Bess, I know you can’t see it, but she was being a sneaky snake tonight. All the sly games she usually reserves for you.”
It was an old argument. Alex had some outlandish notion that Grace didn’t treat her right. It was absurd. She could handle Grace.
“She has a different sense of humor than most people,” Elizabeth said. “I think it’s probably hard for her, trying to connect with people when she feels so disappointed with what’s happened with her career. I think she’s feeling sad.”
“Hard trying to connect? What, on account of her being a god?” Alex stopped and waited until she had Elizabeth’s eye. “You think I don’t know? How you feel about her? Why do you think you and I broke up? It wasn’t the distance, or my schedule. Bess, I felt like the other woman.”
Elizabeth went rigid. “What? Grace would never…”
“No, she wouldn’t. But you would, right? Given half the chance, you’d fling her perfect ass down on the bed so hard, her nose would hit the ceiling.”
It wasn’t fair. Elizabeth couldn’t even keep this one pathetic secret to herself. “Is it written on my face?” With cheeks on fire, she demanded, “So does everyone know? Do you all laugh at me? Oh my God, is that why Brian chose a kiss as a prize? He assumed Grace would win like always? Was this some sick joke?”
“No, love, no! Brian was just being his usual random self. Like that time he challenged us to only say words backwards for an hour? Or do a John Cleese silly walk every time we swore? I promise I’m the only one who’s figured out your feelings for her. I know you better than anyone else. Of course I notice the little things. Like… how much you enjoyed that kiss?”
“I didn’t.” Elizabeth glared.
“Come on,” Alex said with a tut. “Don’t lie to either of us. You enjoyed it. But then, regular as clockwork, Grace ruined it by embarrassing you. Again. Yes, I know she was joking. Your mentor is charming and entertaining to the whole damned world. But she’s also controlling about the things she owns. Why do you think Amrit sprinted out the door after that fling with her?”
“She doesn’t own me.”
“Doesn’t she? Okay, just for shits and giggles, next time you see her, I want you to tell her how wonderful Summer is. How amazing and fun, and you’re just loving spending time with her, and she’s the best thing ever. If I’m wrong, she’ll say ‘how nice’, sound bored, and turn the conversation back to herself. But if I’m right, watch her shred the girl.”
“You’re wrong.” Why couldn’t Alex see this? “I matter to Grace. She’s hard on me at times, but it’s for my own good, to keep me focused. She wants me to succeed. She’s invested a lot of time in me, so that makes sense. You know what she did for me when I got here. You know how she got me my agent. You don’t do that for just anyone.”
“No, you don’t. It’s interesting she did that, though, isn’t it?” Alex’s smile didn’t touch her eyes. “Why did she?”
Elizabeth slid the dishwasher closed and pushed the power button. “She was looking out for me. Don’t be so dismissive of her. I wouldn’t be half as good as I am if not for her lessons. You saw her perform tonight. She was incredible. It’s an outrage she’s not a legend in LA.”
“So you keep telling us.” Alex sighed. “And who told you that?”
Scowling at Alex, she headed back to the living room.
“Want to know what else I think?” Alex asked as she followed.
“As if I could stop you.” Elizabeth settled on the couch. Through the glass doors, she could see the boys outside, leaning over the pool fencing, smoking, chatting, and laughing with Zara.
Alex flopped at the far end of the couch, lifting her feet onto Elizabeth’s lap. Old habits.
“Okay, let’s hear it,” Elizabeth said with a sigh.
“Grace put on that little acting tour de force to put Summer in her place because she’d impressed us. Grace was virtually saying, Yes, American, you might have talent, but I am a legend.”
“Grace is a legend.”
“Agreed. And now your new friend has been fully briefed. That was the purpose of the demonstration.”
It had been a little out of the blue, Elizabeth had to admit.
“Think: when was the last time Grace performed just for our amusement?” Alex asked, gaze sharp.
It had been a while. “Years?”
“Exactly. So it had to mean something, don’t you think?”
“Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.”
“Uh-huh,” Alex said skeptically. “Know what else I think? Summer Hayes is going to crack the world right open for you. She’s a catalyst.”
“Be serious. She’s a twenty-eight-year-old ex-child star from LA. Her biggest claim to fame is being a teen spy. What you see is what you get. She’s just…a girl.”
“Who can kiss your socks off.”
Elizabeth’s light snort came out of nowhere, surprising her.
Alex joined in with a laugh.
“Okay, fine, yes,” Elizabeth conceded. “She can kiss. But still.”
“All I’m saying is, the woman doesn’t even know it, but she’s pushing Grace’s buttons, Amrit’s buttons, your buttons—or button, given I suspect it’s a different one entirely—” she waggled her eyebrows, “and when this all starts to go thermonuclear, the sexy Badour film, Grace’s passive-aggressive games, your batshit crazy TV show, all of it, it’ll be fun as hell to se
e who and what’s left standing.”
“You have a vivid imagination.”
“Wait and see,” Alex pointed at her. “Once the dust settles, you’ll be happier for it.”
“You think my world will blow apart and that will make me happy?”
“Yes.” Beaming widely, Alex nudged her. “Sometimes ya just gotta blow shit up in order to rebuild it better than ever.”
“How violent,” Elizabeth drawled. “And you, a tree-hugging, film-making pacifist.”
“It’s a metaphor, love. Mark my words. Summer Hayes is the beginning of the end of the beginning. And me? Hell, I’m booking a front-row seat.”
Chapter 11
“I can’t believe I’m going along with this,” Autumn grumbled, as she and Summer carried out spare chairs to the pool area. “Faking a relationship is bad enough. Trying to con our parents is insane.” She arranged the canvas pair she was hauling into a line.
“Keep your voice down,” Summer hissed. “Mom’s just in the kitchen.”
Autumn dropped into one of the chairs. “God, just when I thought you were over your old fixation on her…now this? You have to play her lover? I want to throttle Jean-Claude.”
Summer sat beside her and glanced at the sea-shell clock on the wall. Almost eleven. Her pulse sped up at the thought of Elizabeth being here soon, in her childhood home. That felt so weird. “Jean-Claude thinks I’ll be perfect.”
“Only because you’ve convinced him she’s your lover. He told me he wanted a couple with the fierce fire. And let’s face it, sex scenes, especially lesbian ones, can be boring as hell if the chemistry’s off or the actresses are uncomfortable. So I get it. But are you seriously thinking you can pull this off?”
“You’re asking me whether I can look like I’m into Elizabeth Thornton?”
Autumn closed her eyes for a moment. “I mean, how are you going to cope emotionally with this? How are you going to separate yourself from the role?”
This again? First Delvine, now her own sister? “I’m a professional,” Summer said tersely, “and that’s what actors do.”
“I know you are. But are you over her? At least tell me that.”
“Of course.” Summer folded her arms and glared.
“I want to believe you.”
“Then do.”
“It’s fucked up, you know. This whole thing.”
“It’s Mom’s fault. She whispered her crazy fantasies into Jean-Claude’s ear. Now there’s no walking it back.”
“I know.” Autumn sighed. “God. Just… Summer, don’t get hurt. I know you. Please be careful with that big heart of yours.”
“I will.” Of course she’d be careful. Careful wasn’t the problem. It was the rest of it. On the one hand, Elizabeth had been selfish and rude, cutting her off without a second thought. On the other hand, she’d also apologized and sounded like she meant it. And she’d opened up her home. That meant something, right? She didn’t have to invite Summer into her private sanctuary. Summer’s fingers played with the fraying edges of her cut-off denim shorts. “It’s good you’ll get to meet her manager today. What’d you want to discuss with Delvine, anyway?”
“It’s not about me, it’s about her.” Autumn’s jaw tightened. “In all our interactions, she treats me like some slow learner who doesn’t know a damned thing about talent management. As though I spend all day signing autographed photos of you and working out cheesy mall-opening appearances. She thinks I don’t understand strategy. If you and Thornton are going to be working closely together, I need her to respect me. I also want to know what her plans are for after Eight Little Pieces. The publicity approach and so on.”
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out. I like Delvine. She’s a straight shooter. She’s also really smart.” Summer hesitated. “Um, she also figured out I was gay from next to no clues. I swear she has like crazy mind-reading powers or something.”
Autumn winced. “Damn. I’d tell you to be more careful but you always are.”
“Yeah.” Summer bit her thumbnail. “I’m getting tired of creeping around though. It feels like by hiding, I’m saying being gay’s bad or something. What year is it?” At her sister’s widening eyes, Summer added quickly, “Although, I get it. Not right now. Not while I still need the girl-next-door roles. And being hit with the fallout from those photos cured me of wanting to come out too soon. The crap people were saying. That it was a publicity stunt? I’m a fame whore? A gold digger? And it was absolutely revolting what they said about Bess.”
“People do love to live down to my expectations,” Autumn agreed. “Maybe that’s why I’m always single.” She looked over at a new arrival and Summer followed her gaze.
“Ah, she’s here.” Summer watched Delvine air kiss a handful of guests their mother introduced her to. “And you’re single because deep down no one will ever be as good as Andrew. Sorry he got that job in London. I really liked him.”
“Yeah.” Autumn’s jaw tightened again. “Me too.”
They watched as their mother led the manager around the pool area, Delvine’s clinking bangles punctuating Skye’s running commentary.
“They seem to be getting on okay,” Autumn observed. “Huh. Delvine doesn’t look as if we’re all beneath her, which was how I’d imagined her.”
“Autumn,” Summer said quietly, “promise me you’ll be extra sweet to her and Elizabeth?”
“I’m always sweet.”
“No, you’re always right. Big difference. You’re sort of polite, but it’s not always nice-polite. Sometimes you say things like, ‘Well, to be accurate…’ or ‘No, actually, that’s incorrect…’. I know people underestimate you, and I get it—you like to show that you know your stuff. But please? Be good? For me?”
Autumn regarded her for a moment. “Hell,” she muttered. “Fine. I’ll put on my charming face.”
Beaming, Summer squeezed her hand. “Thanks.”
“But don’t think I don’t know what your request means.” Her warning look made Summer’s heart sink.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Yes you do.” Autumn squinted at her. “I am praying to whatever deity is listening that this film cures you for good. That working up close and personal with Thornton will get her out of your system once and for all.”
“I’m sure it will.” Summer said more firmly than she felt. “Absolutely.”
Autumn sighed. “Shit. I knew it. You didn’t even deny it this time.” She put her head in her hands and snorted. “God help us all if you ever turn Thornton’s pretty head too.”
“You’re safe. The only people she finds worth noticing are British acting legends called Grace.”
Elizabeth checked the address after she pulled up in front of the Hayes family home in Granada Hills. It was on a street lined with towering white oak trees, quite beautiful for suburban LA. But that’s not what caught her eye. Summer had left something out when she’d texted her the address. You’d think it might be worth mentioning.
Skye and Brock lived in an obscenely yellow house that was a little hard to miss. It came with a cream, peaked roof, a gas lamp post, and a…she did a double-take…bronze wishing well out front.
Exiting her car, she clicked her remote and pivoted to walk up the garden path to the door.
“Ms. Thornton?”
She turned to find an older, brunette version of Summer standing on the curb, holding a lightweight blue sweater.
“I’m Autumn. Summer’s sister and manager.” Her smile lacked Summer’s warmth. “I just had to get something from my car and I saw you.” With a heft of her sweater, she shrugged. “I thought I should say hi.”
“Of course. Hello.” Elizabeth waited for Autumn to join her. As the woman neared, she could make out more than a few differences. A rounder, fuller face, a lop-sided, smirking mouth that seemed more cynic
al, and a smattering of freckles. It hadn’t occurred to Elizabeth how symmetrically perfect Summer’s face was until she saw someone, well…normal, with similar attributes. “Is Delvine here yet?”
“Yes. Mom and her seem to be bonding over a hatred of pastels.”
“That sounds like Delvine. I’ve yet to see her wear anything from a neutral palette.”
Autumn tilted her head, regarding Elizabeth silently.
“What is it?” Elizabeth asked as they walked toward the house.
“It’s just, I’m having a hard time picturing it. My sister and you in Eight Little Pieces.” She groaned. “And by picturing it, I mean the concept. In general. You know. Not the rest.”
Elizabeth gave her a curious look. There was some sort of tension here, but she couldn’t place it. “Are you opposed to her playing Lucille? Summer seems keen to stretch herself.”
“She usually does such sweet roles.” Autumn gave a pained sigh. “Truthfully, yes, I wish she wasn’t actually stretching herself in that way.”
“You have an issue with her playing a lesbian? Or is it that you have an issue with homosexuality in general?” Her voice came out far chillier than she’d intended. It wasn’t really a fair question. Much of Hollywood still held Rachel Cho’s view that playing gay made an actor less marketable in the eyes of the public. It was accepted as fact, even though no one had any proof. Rachel couldn’t be shifted on her stance even the smallest bit—and Rachel was gay. Autumn’s expression held the same pinched look as Rachel’s did on the topic.
“Of course I’m not homophobic!” Autumn glared. “How could you even ask? That’d be pretty hypocritical, all things considered.”
All things? Wait, was Autumn gay? Elizabeth sneaked a glimpse at her. Maybe her gaydar was faulty because she couldn’t see it. Not that that meant anything. Hollywood was about as straight as ramen noodles. “Sorry,” she said. “So your issue is your squeaky-clean sister having her image shattered by a lesbian role?”
