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Laguna Beach: A Treasure in Laguna (Kindle Worlds Novella)

Page 8

by Heather Hiestand


  Justin reached for the handrail on his right. “Manwhores aren’t supposed to be high-maintenance. What’s your problem?”

  “Drop the insults. She’s on the promo reel we spent half the night finishing up. I sent the new version to Roger Dalton this morning. Mission accomplished.” Crowe made a show of brushing his hands together. “The rest is none of your business.”

  “Dude, you’re my brother,” Thor said, coming alongside him and pacing him on the steps. “And I’d like a distraction from these damn stairs. WTF, man? Did you do it with her last night or not?”

  “Especially because we might end up being co-workers with her, I’m not going to answer that,” Crowe said, already wishing for one of his bottles of water. He should have tried to get more than four hours of sleep, but he wanted to get them back into the cave. It was supposed to be cooler in the morning.

  He swore.

  “What?” Thor asked.

  “Do you think we should wait to work on the cave until we hear from Roger Dalton? What if we find something major and mess up the camera work or the sound?”

  “Number one, you aren’t usually indecisive. So why are you asking us?” Thor asked. “Two, you are going to tell me what happened with Jenny last night. You had to have been with her for almost two hours.”

  “None of your business,” Crowe snapped.

  Thor flashed his teeth. “No worming out of it, dipshit.”

  Frustration made him stop on a step. Crowe sat down and took off his backpack. As the other two stopped their own descent and stared at him, he pulled out a bottle of water, uncapped it, and took a long sip.

  “He wouldn’t talk to us last night about it either,” Justin pointed out, setting down his bag.

  “Yeah, but we had things to show him so we didn’t care then,” Thor said. “If we’re breaking out the water already, hand one over.”

  Crowe handed them both bottles. Below them, they could see a trio of women coming up the steps. “We should have been out here earlier.”

  “It will be cool in the cave,” Justin said. “On the way back up, we can strip down.”

  “Up,” Thor groaned.

  Crowe recognized two of the women—Holly and Annie from the Laguna Nights show, best friends still together. Holly was now known as Madison, of course, and back with Josh Welsh. He lifted his hand in greeting.

  “You have water?” Madison looked hopeful. “You’re Crowe, right? I was going to call you today.”

  Crowe couldn’t refuse a pregnant lady, so he handed over another of their precious bottles. “How come?”

  She used the bottle to point to each of them. “All you guys. We need more participants for an improv class at the Mondrian tonight. Can you come?”

  Justin tossed his shaggy head. “We might look like actors, but we really aren’t.”

  “You might be able to pick up a few tips to help the show you’re trying to put together,” Madison coaxed. “Tax deduction.” Her companions nodded.

  “Is Josh going to be there?” Crowe asked, thinking he might like more face time with his friend. Plus, he needed to give him the new promo reel.

  “I hope so. But I can tell you Jenny is going to be there.”

  Crowe narrowed his eyes and shaded them with his hand. “What do you know about her?”

  “I know it would be good for you to spend time with her,” Madison said in an even tone that gave nothing away.

  “When did you talk to her?” Crowe asked.

  “Late last night. She was digging her way through a pint of Ben & Jerry’s.”

  Thor whistled. “Not a good sign. We’ll be there.”

  Crowe gritted his teeth. He’d never been in a situation where he’d had this much interference and unsolicited opinions on a budding relationship. Maybe he wasn’t going to be able to get Jenny Craft without help. Small towns were funny that way, when most everyone had known everyone for years. He was the outsider, not her. “Yeah, count us in. Do we need to buy tickets?”

  Madison pulled three tickets out of an envelope in her string bag. “I was selling them on the beach. They are fifty bucks each.”

  “Do you take credit?” Crowe asked, sarcasm edging his voice.

  “I have it,” Thor said. “The camera repair didn’t cost much.” He fished the bills out of his wallet.

  Madison grinned at him. “Perfect.” She handed over the tickets and Thor tucked them away. “See you tonight.”

  “This had better be the best improv class ever,” Justin said as they resumed making their way down the steps.

  “Doesn’t matter. We need to get Crowe some face time with Jenny,” Thor said.

  “Not really. We just need to sell the show. Then she’ll be eating out of his hand,” Justin said.

  “How did I get myself into this?” Crowe muttered.

  Thor clapped both of his gigantic paws on the back of Crowe's shoulders. “The path to success is a winding road.”

  “A Zen master you are not,” Crowe snarled. Then he modulated his voice. “But I’m glad to have you gentlemen on board, whatever happens. We should watch our promo reel again tomorrow after a good night’s sleep, and then send it out to everyone on my list. No point in letting everything hang on Roger Dalton. Jenny would prefer we work with someone else, anyway.”

  Jenny walked into the Mondrian’s ballroom at seven that night, already regretting being talked into appearing. She paid her fifty dollars to a hotel employee and had her hand stamped, then immediately headed for the jug of ice water with lemon slices and poured herself a glass. Even thinking about the class made her throat dry.

  She drank a full glass without stopping before she even glanced around the room. Of course, she knew a lot of the thirty or so people there. Local teenagers were dotted through the room, and college-aged kids too, many of whom were regulars at her restaurant. If she didn’t know the names, she certainly recognized the faces. Madison had worked her contact list, and a number of adults were also part of the group. Including, she realized, the three musketeers: Crowe, Thor, and Justin, who stood next to each other, talking intently in front of a window. Madison had delivered on her promise.

  As if she’d said his name aloud, Crowe glanced up. She was struck anew by how good-looking he was. Shallow or not, he was definitely eye candy. His dark hair somehow looked floppier than when they’d first met almost a week ago, and his eyes were shadowed under thick brows that made his face look absurdly masculine. She now knew his body looked as good with clothing as without. The bright blue fabric of his sun shirt molded to his impressive chest and his calves were taut and muscular under his board shorts. He was back in flip-flops. Next to him, his two companions faded away, despite their own female-luring looks.

  How was she supposed to learn to be less awkward if Crowe was here? She hadn’t considered that when she’d spoken to Madison. At least the view was nice. She went to the ballroom windows to look out over the beach.

  “Hey.” Crowe’s baritone dusted her ear.

  She summoned her calm, post-yoga self. “Hi, Crowe. What brings you to this class?”

  “Better than staying home with the PlayStation, right? You made fun of me for playing video games.”

  She glanced at him, noted the high color on his cheeks and nose. “You have a sunburn.”

  “We took a break from the caves on the beach. Big mistake. Not enough drinking water, not enough sunscreen.”

  “Did you get anything done?”

  “We laid out a grid system and Justin went over about half of the cave. Didn’t find anything.”

  “No? That’s disappointing.”

  “There are limits with metal detectors. That coin I found was barely reachable when I put my entire arm into the hole. A metal detector is unlikely to detect something buried that deep.”

  “If it was easy, everyone would be finding treasure,” Jenny pointed out.

  Crowe chuckled and put his hand on her arm. “I love your deadpan humor. I hope we get to see it on the sh
ow.”

  She turned slightly, allowing his hand to fall away. What she’d said wasn’t that funny. He was predisposed to think of her that way due to the old show. She hated living a lie. Why did she think one silly improv class could fix anything?

  A man walked into the room through the catering door. She wasn’t quite sure how he did it, but he commanded attention. In his mid-forties, he was taller than most everyone, like Thor. But unlike Thor, he was a bear of a man, though he was dressed neatly in a pair of navy slacks and a white shirt. He held up his hands, palms flat, and rotated his body, quieting the few pockets of teens who hadn’t noticed him yet. Then, when all was silent, he clapped his hands.

  “Let’s get started. I’m Duff Jester, your passport to tonight’s entertainment.”

  What a name. She wondered what his real name was, to make “Duff Jester” an improvement.

  He played with his microphone as he moved into the center of the room. “Improv is cooperation in action. It’s an ensemble art. All of us will be working together tonight as we play our games.”

  He made a circle with his free hand. “You can’t fail here. This is a safe place. Let me repeat: There is no failure in improv. The worst thing that can happen? You’ll get a round of applause.”

  “Why would anyone clap if we screw up?” asked a skeptical teenager who Jenny recognized as one of the loudmouths who liked to come to her restaurant after school, order a soda, and wait around for someone to show up and buy pizza for them. He wore a blue polo shirt that his mother had probably purchased for him, less casual than the other teens’ clothing.

  “Because it’s all good,” the comedian crooned. “If you can’t think of something to say, throw up your hands and yell ‘Screw up!’ Everyone in your group is gonna clap, okay?”

  The teen rolled his eyes.

  “Listen, the one rule here is, no blocking each other’s creativity. Enter into the spirit of the night. Go with the flow. Imagine yourself in the world created by your partners. The word for the night is ‘Yes.’ Say it with me, people.”

  The crowd shouted, “Yes!”

  “Yes and, people. Say yes, and then piggyback on what the last person started. Say it again. Yes!”

  “Yes,” the crowed called.

  He cupped his hand around his ear. “I didn’t hear you!”

  They shouted louder. Jenny felt herself smiling, as was most of the room.

  “Good,” the comedian crooned. “So many pretty people in this here ballroom. I’m from Texas myself,” he said, and suddenly his accent was noticeable. “We don’t make pretty like you do here in the O.C.” He patted his belly. “You’d think I was from bear country, huh?”

  Jenny thought guiltily of her first impression of him as he pointed a finger and moved it across the room. “Now y’all’s got to find a group of four to play with.”

  Crowe grabbed Jenny’s hand and pulled her through the room until they found Justin and Thor. “Here we go. It’s a team building exercise for the show, right?”

  “The first game we’re going to play is Alphabet,” the comedian said. “You’re going to take turns speaking, following the alphabet. Everyone here is over the age of five, right? So you should know the alphabet. Now, let me demonstrate.”

  Jenny realized Crowe had pulled her into the center of the room. Duff locked eyes on her and held out his hand. “Are you going to be my partner, sweet thing?”

  She froze, trying to go back through his words. What was she supposed to do?

  “B,” Crowe murmured in her ear. “Start with a B.”

  “B-but there are so m-many other people to choose from,” she stammered.

  Duff guffawed and shot his fist into the air. “Could I possibly have chosen a better partner?” he asked.

  Several people around her nodded as they began to get the hang of the game. But Jenny knew she had already failed. Without Crowe’s prompting, she wouldn’t have even known what to do.

  “Don’t,” she whispered, and walked swiftly out of the ballroom without looking back.

  Chapter Six

  The faintest hint of confusion crossed Duff Jester’s face before the comedian smoothed his expression into a self-deprecating smirk. “Ever heard of a big man like me intimidating a little gal like that?”

  The crowd chuckled for a moment, then the comedian continued with his patter, moving away from their small group and engaging one of the teenagers in the crowd to continue the game. As soon as attention had turned away, Crowe followed Jenny out of the door of the ballroom. He had no problem missing the class. He’d come for her.

  While he didn’t see her at first, he eventually spotted a shadow in front of one of the big windows facing the beach. “What’s going on?” he asked when he reached her.

  “Nothing.”

  “I know that’s not true. Where’s my funny girl? What happened?”

  Her body jerked toward him. Only then did he see the sheen of tears.

  “I’m. Not. Funny,” she said, biting off each word.

  “Of course you are. What are you talking about?”

  “All that stuff you think I said? Back on Laguna Nights? The reason you have such a big crush on me, and think you want to be with me?”

  “What of it? It was years ago.”

  “It was scripted, Crowe. All scripted. None of those funny lines were mine. I was acting the part. Yeah, I was a waitress before, but I wasn’t a funny one. I was just me.”

  “Okay.” Why was she so upset? She spoke with emphasis, as if her revelation were life-shattering, but most reality television was loosely scripted, whether people wanted to believe it or not. “What’s the big deal?”

  She lifted her chin. “You like me because I’m funny, and I’m not.”

  “You are funny,” he said. “Some writer might have amplified it on camera, but I know you in real life, Jenny. You have a great sense of humor. Still, I like you for more than that.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest, moving her weight to the balls of her feet, ready to run again.

  “I know it’s hard to believe me—you think I have some stupid celebrity crush on you.”

  “I know that’s what you have.” She shifted.

  He put out a hand. “That’s how it started. But it’s been a week and I still have a crush on you. That should tell you something. You keep trying to push me away and I come right back.”

  That line between her brows appeared again. “Why?”

  He put his hand on her forearm. “I like you. I want to be in your life. You’re likable.”

  “Likable,” she muttered.

  “It’s not like you’re friendless. You’re also a successful business owner, which means you’re a leader. And whether you like Roger Dalton or not, he recognizes you as a star. I’m sorry, Jenny, but you have to accept your own charisma.”

  She turned her head away. “That’s ridiculous. Now you’re making me uncomfortable.”

  He put both of his hands on hers, which were still protectively covering her ribs. “Don’t you like yourself?”

  She seemed shocked by the question. Her eyes met his again. “I think of myself as a quiet person.”

  “Maybe you’re an introvert. That’s fine. But accept how the world sees you.” He lowered his voice. “How I see you. I’m crazy about you.”

  Her words seemed to come from deep in her chest. “Even knowing the truth?”

  He squeezed her fingers. “The truth isn’t even a surprise. I’m twenty-eight, Jenny. I’ve been around the Hollywood block a few times. I’m friends with Josh. I was a production assistant in between college and grad school. I get artificial. But this, you and me, it isn’t fake. Can’t I have a real chance with you?” Her fingers felt cold under his.

  Her eyes were still filled with tears, and they weren’t happy ones. “I’m not sure,” she whispered.

  “What’s wrong?” He wanted to take the pain away.

  “This is my life, here. You want something else.”

&
nbsp; “You can stretch your wings. It’s allowed. You don’t have to cling to your restaurant.”

  Her voice dropped an octave. “It’s everything I have.”

  “It doesn’t have to be. You’re a young, beautiful woman. Live a little. Why act like you’re forty already?”

  She compressed her lips. “I’m older than you. I have a mortgage and a business. You’re still starting out.”

  “If you don’t break out of your shell, you will be forty, and this will still be exactly your life. Your restaurant and your condo. What about other dreams? Like a family?”

  “I thought I was happy.”

  “What do you think now?” he asked.

  “I feel like you’re out of my league. You’ll move on. You’re just here shooting your pilot.”

  His chest fluttered. She’d given him an in. “It makes you unhappy to think I’m out of your league? I’m not, not at all. You can join me.”

  “You’re the star of the show.”

  “No, it’s a team. That’s the new paradigm. And I want you to be my partner.”

  She gave a half laugh. “I’m not a treasure hunter.”

  “That’s not what I mean. A partner, Jenny. It’s all about partnership.”

  “Not just work?”

  “Right. You and me.” He had the crazy feeling he’d just about proposed. Was he really ready for that? But she wasn’t getting excited. He dropped his hands.

  She stopped crossing her arms, only to lift her fingers to her temples. “I have to think. I mean, I admit I came here to see you, and I’m so glad we talked, so happy you didn’t stop liking me, but I’m not good with so much change all at once.”

  He regarded her, this beautiful woman who had bought the business she had worked in since high school, in the town where she’d been all her life. Yes, he was asking a lot, he could at least give her time to think. “I’m glad you wanted to reconnect with me. Can I take you home?”

  She shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I need time alone. I truly thought your interest in me was all an illusion. It changes everything to realize you never really cared about that, or at least, not after we met.”

 

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