by C. J. Thomas
My hands itched to touch her.
“You look stunning,” I said, opening the door for her. “You’ll knock their eyes out on the red carpet.”
“You don’t look half bad yourself, Detective.” She grinned.
“Me? I’m just a guy in a tux. We’re a dime a dozen.” She chuckled as she slid gracefully into the car, giving me a glimpse of the delicate silver shoes she wore. How women could walk all night in pencil-thin heels, I would never understand.
She kept me interested throughout the ride to the event. “This is nothing new for you, right? I mean, you’ve been to these parties before. When you sold your screenplay?”
“A few house parties,” I admitted. “Not a premiere.”
“Not even for your own film?” She sounded shocked.
I shook my head. “By the time they shot it, I was already a detective. I wanted to build my career on my own merit, not because I wrote a screenplay. It was too late to mix the two, so I bowed out on the premiere and all the partying.”
“I guess I can understand that. Then you’re in for a treat tonight.” She laughed wryly.
“You sound so jaded. How many of these have you been to?”
“More than I can count,” she admitted. “Hollywood loves to throw a party.”
“The way you made it sound, you’re a homebody.”
“I am. I’m also a workaholic, and this is for work.”
She was a mystery to me. What woman wouldn’t jump at the chance to rub elbows with Hollywood royalty, even for one night? She acted like it was an everyday occurrence—one she could take or leave. Just another day at the office. I wondered what it would take to impress her.
I pulled up at the hotel, waiting in line behind a row of cars until we had our turn to pull up on the red carpet. My fingers tapped the steering wheel impatiently. She placed a hand over one of mine.
“Relax, Detective.” She grinned.
“I’m relaxed.” I took the opportunity to intertwine our fingers. She squeezed my hand.
“Then look it,” she said. “They’re just people.”
“I know they’re just people,” I insisted. “Maybe it’s the company I’m with that has me a little nervous.”
She blushed, just like I knew she would. Even her neck turned red. I wondered what it would feel like beneath my fingertips, followed by my mouth.
“You’ll see much prettier girls than me tonight,” she murmured, withdrawing her hand.
“I doubt it. Besides, I know how much airbrushing goes on. I’m almost afraid to see them in person.”
She laughed. “There are a few who might surprise you, yes.” While we waited, she told me the story of meeting one of her long-time idols at one of the first parties she ever attended. “I talked to her for twenty minutes without knowing who she was. I didn’t recognize her at all! Afterward, somebody told me who I had just chatted with. I wanted to melt into the floor.”
I was still laughing as I climbed out of the car. A valet attendant slid behind the wheel as I helped Julia from the car. When we were face-to-face, she winked. For one breathless moment, I almost kissed her again.
I settled for taking her hand and letting her lead me down the red carpet instead. It was already populated with a dozen or so familiar faces, posing for the paparazzi. I heard Julia giggle as we wove our way through them.
“One of the perks of anonymity,” she said. “You can walk right in without hearing your name screamed by dozens of photographers.”
“That has to be exhausting,” I muttered, glancing behind me.
“Yeah, they must spend hours exercising their facial muscles to get ready for all that smiling,” she quipped.
“Isn’t that what Botox is for? So you don’t feel any of it?” We laughed together as we sailed through the front doors of the hotel. It was nice, feeling like we were always on the same page. There was always something to laugh about.
I stopped laughing when we entered the ballroom. I had no idea it would be so over-the-top. It didn’t even look like a plain hotel ballroom. They’d transformed it into a sort of fantasy world, straight out of the nineteen-twenties.
“I think I sense the theme,” I murmured in her ear. “You should have told me. I would have worn my fur coat and carried my flask.”
She shrugged. “This is the first I’m hearing of it, too. It’s impressive, huh?”
That was one word for it. Only I kept further opinions to myself, feeling like Julia was watching me very closely. Gauging my reaction, like a grown-up taking a kid to the circus for the first time.
She linked her arm through mine. “Come on, Detective. Let’s mingle.” She threw her head back and sailed into the room, bringing me along with her.
Even with all the gorgeous faces around me, there was one that stood out above the rest. Julia. She moved through the party like water, flowing in and out of groups of smiling guests, making them laugh with her little quips. She seemed to know them all, and they all liked her.
I didn’t miss the way several of the men looked her up and down when she turned around, either. The caveman in me rose up, beating his chest.
I couldn’t blame them, naturally. She was a vision, even more stunning than she was on our date. Her gown promised more than it delivered, with a back cut below her waist, and a wide expanse of skin visible in the front.
She made my mouth water. I imagined running my hands over her smooth arms, up over her shoulders. The way she would tremble. Unhooking the dress, where it closed around the back of her neck. Letting the fabric fall away from her body—
“Dan?” She was smiling expectantly at me, and I shook myself.
“Sorry, zoned out there for a minute.”
“I get bored at these things, too.” I almost jumped when I heard the voice at my left elbow. A singer. What was her name? She was big with the teenyboppers. She smiled brilliantly at me. I realized Julia had been introducing us, and I shook her hand.
“Not bored. Just overwhelmed by all the pretty ladies, such as yourself.” She smiled again, but I heard Julia snort derisively.
Even as I chatted with the singer, I kept thinking back to Julia. Why hadn’t we done this sooner? Why did I picture her sitting home alone with three cats and a bowl of Ramen noodles?
Not that I didn’t respect her intelligence. I just saw her daily uniform and knew the reputation of her magazine and assumed she wouldn’t know the first thing about how to conduct herself at a party like this one.
I had seriously underestimated her—a mistake I’d never make again.
She turned to a tall, burly guy in a tux. I knew who he was in an instant. The quarterback for last year’s Super Bowl championship team. I also knew he had a long history of violence, including a few allegations from an ex-girlfriend.
Julia giggled at something he said. He bent closer to her ear and whispered something. She blushed, giggling again.
The caveman roared, and this time I didn’t try to suppress him. I took Julia by the elbow. “Excuse us, won’t you?” I grinned at him, then led her away.
“What was that all about?” she asked through a wide smile, teeth gritted. “I don’t appreciate being manhandled.”
“Then you wouldn’t appreciate being around him,” I replied through my own smile.
“You don’t think I know all about him?” We stopped at the bar and I ordered us both another drink.
“Knowing what a person is really like and letting yourself be pawed by him at a party are two different things.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I was not letting him paw me. His hands were nowhere near me.”
“He wanted them to be.”
“Lots of people want lots of things,” she replied coolly. “It doesn’t mean they’ll get them.”
“Sorry if I cared about your well-being.”
“My well-being is fine.” She surprised me by smiling and placing a hand on my arm. “Trust me. This isn’t my first rodeo.” Her tone was softer, gentler. She felt flattered
, I realized.
She turned toward the room, taking it in with her eyes. “I have the lowdown on every person here, believe it or not,” she murmured, smiling again. Her tone belied her expression. She sounded grim. “It’s a lot of fun, though, if you can take it for what it is and not think too much about it. Remember: Every person in this room started out as somebody like you or me. They had hopes, dreams. Illusions, even. They wanted the bright lights and big money. What they didn’t know was that Hollywood is, and always has been, a dream factory. That’s what they do—they create dreams. It’s all fantasy. So relax and enjoy it.”
“You can do that?” I asked.
“Why not? It’s sort of fun, isn’t it?” She grinned. “Why be here if you can’t enjoy it?”
I decided to enjoy it, then, taking a long swig of a very expensive brand of whiskey. I didn’t like the side of me Julia brought out without meaning to—the jealous, petulant little boy I’d been just moments earlier.
That wasn’t me.
“All right, Ms. Mabel. Let’s get back to mingling.” Only this time, I placed a gentle hand on the small of her back as we moved around the ballroom. I wanted to make sure everybody knew she was here with me.
129
Julia
IT WAS MORE fun than I’d expected, watching Dan make heads and tails of the party. It was rare that a man like him was thrust into a situation he was unfamiliar with, so I got a big kick out of watching him hold his own.
He did hold his own, though. That much I had to give him credit for. After that first little argument—which I sort of enjoyed since it meant he was jealous—things flowed much more smoothly. I even saw a few women slip him their phone numbers when they thought I wasn’t looking. I only raised a discreet eyebrow when this happened, and was rewarded by the sight of a sheepish smile when I caught his eye.
It wasn’t often he was left speechless.
I wondered if he would call them, then pushed the thought aside. So what if he did? He wasn’t mine. Men like Dan Pierce belonged to no one but themselves, and woe to the woman who thought she could tame him.
He wouldn’t be held down, his wings clipped.
Yet his hand rested on my back, burning my flesh. I almost couldn’t concentrate, thanks to the giddy rush of blood to my lower extremities. Every once in a while, he’d shift, his fingers grazing my skin, and the breath would catch in my throat. He had no idea what he was doing to me. Or maybe he did. I enjoyed it, either way.
Why was he doing it in the first place? Some macho attempt to mark his territory? If so, shouldn’t I have been annoyed with him for it, instead of insanely turned on? How would he feel if I draped myself all over him?
For once, I felt like I left him a little speechless, too. Sure, he’d been impressed with me when we met up for dinner, but the minute he accepted my invitation to the party, I knew he’d be on his ass when he saw the gown I’d wear for it. Even I was a little impressed with myself.
The look on his face when I met him at the car was priceless, and I would remember it for a long time.
That wasn’t the only time he was knocked speechless tonight, either. When we were approached by one of the grand dames of stage and screen, he was at a loss for words. His hand dropped away from my back as he nervously cleared his throat. So, somebody can make the great Dan Pierce nervous, I thought.
I smiled warmly at Lana Taylor, taking her hands in mine. “Lana. I’m so glad to see you!”
“You, too, dear. You look beautiful, as always. I’m telling you, I could set you up for an audition in the blink of an eye. You just give me a call. I know at least three directors who would hire you on the spot.”
She winked broadly and I laughed it off. Yeah, they’d hire me on the spot. Right after they invited me to the casting couch. I didn’t have a single dramatic bone in my body—and I wouldn’t need one.
“You don’t know the first thing about my acting, though,” I protested.
“Honey, if you can navigate one of these parties with a smile, you can handle a little acting job.” She turned her attention to Dan, and I saw her eyes go a little wider. She practically licked her lips. Oh, this would be fun. I bet he’d never met the likes of her before.
I gave them both my widest, most innocent smile. “Lana Taylor, I’d like to introduce you to Dan Pierce. Dan is a very old friend of mine.”
“Mr. Pierce.” Lana extended a bejeweled hand. “A pleasure.”
“The pleasure’s all mine, Ms. Taylor. I’m a big fan of yours.” He raised her hand to his lips and she swooned a little. I bit the inside of my mouth to keep myself from laughing. A woman in her late sixties, and she acted like a fawning teen in an insipid romantic comedy.
She fixed me with a dark stare. “Julia, sweetheart, how dare you keep a man like this all to yourself? Have I ever seen you in anything, Mr. Pierce?” You’d like to see him in your bed, I thought to myself, still struggling not to laugh.
He chuckled. “I don’t think so, Ms. Taylor.”
“Please, dear,” she moved a hairsbreadth closer, “call me Lana.” The name poured from her mouth like honey.
“Lana,” he replied, the charming smile still on his face. “And you can call me Detective.” Oh, burn. My head swiveled in her direction. It was like watching a tennis match.
Lana’s smile faltered and her skin turned about as white as what I would have bet her natural hair color was. “Detective? What is it you investigate?”
“Homicide.”
“Oh, how gruesome.” She cut her eyes at me. “You do have the most interesting friends, darling.”
“Yes, Dan’s very interesting.”
She made a quick escape, and I made it a point to avoid Dan’s pointed stare. I knew I would start laughing the second our eyes met. I couldn’t keep a smile off my face, though.
“I’m glad you think that was funny,” he whispered. “The woman’s nearly twice my age.”
“Oh, please. She’s harmless.”
“Like hell! I felt her claws sinking into me. She would have left nothing but my dried-up carcass in her wake. I mean, think about it. Have you ever seen one of her ex-husbands or boyfriends again, after their break-up?”
I turned to him with a smug smile. “So you do follow Hollywood gossip, then?”
He smirked. “Only when I’m curious as to where the bodies are hidden.”
“To think. Dan Pierce finally met a woman he couldn’t handle.” I winked, and he smirked in reply.
I looked around the room, still chuckling over the memory of Dan’s encounter when I saw a familiar face. Margo Rice. I smiled warmly.
“Who’s that?” Dan asked, following my gaze. “I don’t recognize her.”
“Margo Rice. A reporter, like me. From a rival magazine.”
“Oh, and you’re smiling? I would think you’d be unhappy to see her.”
“Why?”
“Because she’s out-scooping you, or whatever you call it.”
“Out-scooping me. You watch too many movies.”
“Either way, I wouldn’t think you’d like her.”
“Nah, it’s never been like that with us. We’ve always gotten along. She shares tips with me, I share with her. We’ve helped each other out for years. Sometimes we even have lunch together.” I gasped in mock horror, putting a hand to my chest.
“So you’re not rivals?”
“Not personally. I figure we work in a big town, with a lot of gossip. There’s more than enough for everybody to cover.”
He shook his head. “I don’t get you at all.”
“What do you mean?” I turned to him before taking a glass of champagne from a tray carried by a server in full twenties costume. I noticed the way Dan’s eyes followed her in her short dress and slicked-back bob. I cleared my throat to get his attention.
He turned back to me, looking flustered. “Oh, uh, what I meant was, I thought somebody as well-known as you would want to be first on the story at all times.”
“Ma
rgo’s different, though. We came up together. She’s one of the good ones. Now, some of the other reporters? I wouldn’t take the time to step on them if they were a bug. I hate getting out-scooped by them. Not with Margo, though.” I smiled again, my eyes finding her. She looked beautiful in a long, silver dress that made her red hair look like flames in comparison.
Then I noticed the arm she was holding onto—or, rather, the man the arm belonged to. I clutched Dan’s arm.
“What is it?” He followed my gaze again and I felt his body tense under my hands.
“What the hell is she doing with Austin Haynes?” I murmured, trying to look casual.
“You’re asking the wrong person,” he reminded me. “I was just about to ask you the same question. She’s more your friend than mine.”
“I never said we were friends,” I reminded him. “We just know each other. I have no idea why she’d be with him. I mean, the tycoon and the tabloid journalist? It’s almost as laughable as him dating an environmentalist.”
My eyes narrowed as I took him in. Tall, dashingly handsome. The sort of profile that made me think of Prince Charming with the thick, golden-blonde hair to go with it. He wore a tux the way some men wore a jogging suit. I wondered how many he owned.
“They look awfully cozy, don’t they?” Dan muttered.
“Yeah. He didn’t waste any time finding somebody else, did he?” My heart sank. I had been in such a good mood, too—I’d even started to believe that Dan and I could have a little after-party of our own, maybe at his place. It would have been the perfect end to a perfect evening.
“He couldn’t have cared much for Emelia if he moved right on to another woman a day after Emelia died,” Dan observed. I heard a little disappointment in his voice.
“That’s the truth. I’m more convinced than ever that he had something to do with her death.” I glared at him, knowing he couldn’t see me. He was deep in conversation with Margo.
