Starstruck

by Rachel Schurig

He was staring at me, his mouth slightly agape.

  “I also like hanging out with my family. I like watching Real Housewives and other crappy reality shows. Sometimes I gossip too much. Sometimes I eat hot dogs from a food cart.” I swallowed, hoping he could see how serious I was. “You can be a normal person and still like what you like. Normal doesn’t have to mean acting just like Thomas or Lizzie or anyone else. You can enjoy nice things without being shallow or spoiled.”

  “Do you really think that?”

  “Of course I do. I’d be in pretty big trouble otherwise. Lizzie’s life sounds kind of boring to me, to be honest. Do you have any idea how many times I’ve had to listen to her talking about their house renovation?”

  He smiled briefly before his face fell again. “But you… When you told me no more grand gestures, I thought… You said we had to be real with each other. I thought that meant, you know, to drop all the Hollywood stuff.”

  “No, Jackson. I meant real. Whatever and whoever you really, really are. That’s who I want to be friends with.”

  He didn’t speak for a long time, just stared at me from across the bed. “You really wouldn’t mind if I…acted like a celebrity?”

  “So long as you were acting like yourself, no. I wouldn’t care.”

  And there was the breathtaking grin. Before I could put my thoughts back in order, he was jumping up off the bed and reaching for his phone. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m making some plans.”

  “For what?”

  He looked at me over the phone. “I’m taking you out tomorrow night.”

  “You have the MGM dinner party tomorrow.”

  “I’m skipping it.”

  “Jackson—”

  “Sometimes celebrities skip out on commitments, Sofie. It might not be our best trait, but I don’t really give a shit.”

  I laughed in spite of myself. How could I argue with that? “So where are we going?” I asked, feeling a little thrill of excitement.

  “I’m going to show you how I normally do New York.”

  He looked so happy, so playful, I had to remind myself that it would be inappropriate to throw my arms around him. “And what does that entail?” I asked.

  “You’ll just have to wait and see.” He scrunched up his nose, somehow looking even cuter. “How do you like that taste of your own medicine?”

  “I guess I deserve it.”

  “All right, get out of my room.”

  “You’re kicking me out?”

  “I have to make calls! Go on. Go see your cousin. I’ll order us some room service and meet you both down there in a few minutes.”

  I shook my head and stood. “I’m only doing what you say because I feel bad that you had to wear those awful clothes all day for nothing.”

  He tilted his head back and laughed. “They really were awful, weren’t they?”

  “Completely horrible.”

  His eyes glinted. He’s so dangerous, I thought idly.

  “I guess I’ll have to put in a special effort tomorrow to show you how nicely I can clean up.”

  Heaven help me. I was in so much trouble. I walked quickly to the door before he could notice the way my mouth was practically watering at the thought. Just before I made my escape, he called my name, and I turned back to him.

  “Today was amazing. I really mean that.” His eyes were intent on mine, honest. “Thank you, Sofie.”

  Again, his sincerity had me abandoning my natural urge for self-deprecation. “You’re welcome.”

  Then his face lit up. “I plan on fully returning the favor tomorrow.”

  I left the room, terrified and excited in equal measures. I had a feeling going along with this plan was going to prove to be a rather large mistake. And I didn’t care in the slightest.

  Chapter Eighteen

  I spent the next morning watching Jackson stand in front of a green screen and repeat the same ten lines over and over and over again while the tech people made adjustments and reset cameras and lighting. Around two o’clock, a young woman, presumably another PA, approached me. She was dressed in a yellow polo shirt and khakis, her blonde hair up in a ponytail. “Hi,” she said cheerily. “Sofie, right? I’m supposed to come and get you.”

  “Get me for what?” I asked, confused.

  “There’s a car outside for you.”

  At that moment, I looked up to see Jackson across the stage, watching me, a sly smile on his face. “Can you give me a minute?” I asked the girl, standing. She nodded, and I ducked around her. Jackson met me on the perimeter of the set.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  “I told you, it’s a surprise.”

  “You want me to get in a car with a stranger? That’s your big surprise?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Hector is driving the car. He’s just going to take you back to the hotel so you can get ready.”

  I stared at him for a long moment, wondering if I should argue. “This is feeling awfully close to a grand gesture,” I finally said.

  He held up a finger. “No. No. Absolutely not. This is not about impressing you or trying to win you over. You said it would be fine for me to like the things I like. Well, I like a nice night out on the town. And that’s what we’re doing. You agreed, Sofie.”

  “Has anyone ever told you that you make it very difficult to argue, Jackson Coles?”

  He winked. “Surprisingly, yes. Now go. I’m going to want to leave right when I’m done here. No lollygagging.”

  “Fine,” I laughed, shaking my head. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

  “Laters!”

  Still smiling like a lunatic, I followed the blonde girl outside to the car. Sure enough, Hector was inside, waiting. To my surprise, so were Sam and Beth. “What are you doing here?” I asked, automatically leaning over to kiss the baby.

  “Jackson just asked me to meet Hector,” he explained, shrugging. “I’m as clueless as you are.”

  “I can take you to our first stop,” Hector said. “If you’d just get your seat belt on, Miss Flores.”

  “So much for no grand gestures,” I muttered, buckling my seat belt. “Okay. Let’s get going.”

  ***

  “This is so not how I thought I would be spending my day,” Sam said half an hour later. “Not that I’m complaining.”

  I pulled out my phone and snapped a quick picture of him. Sam Medina, shin-deep in a foot spa full of bubbles, a green mask on his face, while two smartly dressed women buffed his fingernails, was not a sight I could count on seeing every day. Besides, if he ever gave me any hassle, it wouldn’t hurt to have some insurance in the form of blackmail pictures.

  “It’s nice, isn’t it?” I asked, bouncing Beth on my knee. My feet were also buried in bubbles—which felt amazing after all of the walking the day before—but the technicians had not yet started on my hands.

  “Who would have thought that I’d like getting a pedicure?” Sam asked.

  “And a facial,” I pointed out. “And a manicure.”

  He frowned, cracking the goop on his face. “On second thought, lets make sure my brothers don’t find out about this.”

  My phone beeped, and I pulled it out to see that Jackson had finally responded to my earlier text. I told you this wasn’t a grand gesture. This is merely what I do, on a normal basis, to prepare for a night out. If I wasn’t working, I would be there, too. There was a slight pause before another text came in. Besides, I had a mani-pedi last week.

  I laughed, typing out a quick reply of thanks.

  “Who was that?” Sam asked, his voice heavy with sarcasm.

  “Shut up, Sam.”

  “No, really. I have absolutely no idea who would cause you to giggle like that.”

  “I don’t giggle.”

  “Uh huh. Sure.”

  I nuzzled the top of Beth’s head. “Your Uncle Sam is a jerk face.”

  “Nice.”

  I wiggled my toes in the water. “I wonder how much all of this cost.” />
  “Perks of working for a famous dude, Sof. Don’t question it too much. Just enjoy.”

  We sat in silence for a long moment. Finally, he cleared his throat. “What, uh, other perks are there? For you, specifically?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  He cracked open an eye, a spot of white and black in the middle of the solid green mask. “Come on, Sof. I saw you guys at the wedding. I know there’s something going on.”

  “There is not!”

  He just stared at me, unblinking. “Why not?”

  “What do you mean, why not?”

  “I mean you’re obviously crazy about each other. Why aren’t you doing something about it?”

  “He’s my boss, Sam.”

  “I’m sure he could help you find another job if there was a conflict of interest with your current one.” He hurried on before I could argue. “Such as, you know, banging your boss.”

  “Sam!” I covered Beth’s ears. “Can we not talk about banging in front of the baby?”

  He snickered. “For someone regularly referred to in our family as a trollop, you’re kind of a prude.”

  I gasped in outrage. “Who’s calling me a trollop?”

  “Can we please focus on the subject at hand? Why on earth aren’t you getting with this guy, Sof? You totally have the hots for him, and he clearly feels the same way. You already know that you like making out with him in dark restaurant storerooms. He’s good with Beth. He’s freaking loaded. What’s the problem?”

  “There are several,” I muttered through gritted teeth.

  “Then by all means, educate me.”

  “I have a kid, Sam.”

  “A kid he seems equally crazy about.”

  “And I’m just supposed to trust that it will stay that way? I can’t be bringing random men in and out of her life. It isn’t fair.”

  A technician came over to wipe away his mask, and I closed my mouth with a snap, not wanting to share this information with everyone in the salon. But Sam wasn’t deterred. The moment she walked away, he twisted in his chair to face me.

  “He’s already in her life, Sofie.”

  “As my boss. That she sees occasionally. Dating him would be totally different, and you know it.”

  “Fair enough. But I don’t see why it would be a bad different.”

  “Because he might change his mind,” I snapped, annoyed that he was making me admit this out loud. “He doesn’t have the best track record with relationships. What if he gets tired of the novelty and—”

  His eyebrows were stitched together, a frown on his face. “You think he sees you as a novelty?”

  I shifted Beth on my lap, adjusting the little rattle she was gnawing on. “I think he’s fascinated by our family because he never had one of his own. I think he’s jealous of the relationship Thomas found with Lizzie. I think he’s lonely, and he sees me as a possible solution.”

  “Well, I think that’s BS. He sure as hell doesn’t look at you like a solution.”

  “Did you not notice that entire charade yesterday, Sam? How hard he was trying to make us all, himself included, believe that he could just be a normal guy? He’s obviously craving that normalcy right now. I don’t want to be a means to an end.”

  “Fine. But what do you call tonight? This obviously has nothing to do with him wanting to feel normal.” He gestured around at the salon. “Can you say swanky? They served us champagne when we got here. This is the opposite of normal.”

  I played with a corner of Beth’s shirt, thinking that over.

  “Look, Sofie. I’m not going to pretend like I know all the psychological reasons behind his behavior, okay? All I’m saying is that I see the way he looks at you.”

  My throat felt suddenly dry. “How does he look at me?”

  Sam just shook his head. “Come on.” When I didn’t respond, he continued. “You remember when Thomas flew me out to London to help them with the electricity at their new place?”

  I nodded.

  “Well, Jackson was there, too. Guess who sat next to me at lunch and grilled me about you?”

  I swallowed. “He did?”

  Sam nodded. “And he followed us to the hospital when Beth was born. He sat in that waiting room all night.”

  “I know.” I thought about him coming in to see me, how I had told him I needed time to focus on Beth, that there wasn’t room in my life for anything else at that point. For the first time, I let myself really think about the look of hurt and disappointment on his face. I had been pretending I imagined it.

  Beth. That’s what it all came down to. I had to put her first. How could I do that and start something with Jackson at the same time?

  “I already made the mistake of letting an unreliable guy into our lives,” I said, my voice soft. “And now we’re stuck with him, forever.”

  “Do you honestly think Jackson is in any way similar to Jim? Give me a break.”

  “No. But he might still be a mistake. And I can’t mess things up for Beth any more than I already have.”

  “You know what else he might be? He might be exactly what you both need.”

  I started to argue, but Sam held up his hand. “Okay, it’s bad enough that I’m getting a mani-pedi without adding gossiping about your love life to my list of shames. Let’s just drop it.”

  “Fine with me. You’re the one who brought—”

  “Just one more thing,” he interrupted, and I rolled my eyes.

  “You’re as bad as your sisters, you know that?”

  He pretended not to hear me. “When you go out with him tonight, just keep an open mind. Watch the way he looks at you. Listen to how he talks to you. Try to see this the way anyone else with a set of eyes can see it. Okay?”

  “Okay,” I said, shaking my head. “If you shut up about this, I promise I’ll keep an open mind.”

  “Thank you. Now, if you would please excuse me, I think it’s time for my detoxifying seaweed wrap.”

  When we got back to the hotel, Sam made an excuse about taking Beth for a walk. When I walked down the hallway toward our room, I understood why. A middle-aged woman in a smart green tunic and flowy black pants was standing just outside the open door. “Miss Flores? My name is Chris. I’m here for your massage.”

  “My massage?”

  She smiled. “Mr. Coles told me to tell you that this is all part of the experience.” She cocked her head. “He said you would know what he meant.”

  I laughed. “I guess I’m getting a massage then.”

  I followed her into the room where a table was already set up in the middle of the living area. The lights were dim, and what looked like a dozen candles glittered around the room. “Definitely in the realm of grand gestures, mister,” I muttered to myself.

  “There’s a robe in your room,” Chris directed.

  I walked into the room, shutting the door behind me, and drew out my phone. What are you doing?

  His response was immediate. I told you. This is how I normally do New York.

  You get massages when you come to New York?

  A good massage is the best part of staying in a nice hotel with a spa. You said it was okay for me to like the nice things, right?

  I shook my head, laughing. There was no way to argue with him now.

  Another text came through. You deserve to relax.

  Thank you very much, I texted back. Now leave me alone. I’m about to get an amazing massage.

  It was amazing. There was no other word for it. Chris used heated stones, bamboo rods, and the most amazing scented oil I’d ever smelled in my life. I hadn’t been aware of how sore I actually was until she started digging into the muscles of my back.

  “Your friend said you’ve recently had a baby?” Chris asked.

  I mumbled something unintelligible, too blissed out for words, before clearing my throat. “Yeah. Almost six months now.”

  “Do you have pain in your hips?” she asked, pressing something on my hip bone. I gasped as t
he entire area seemed to turn warm, all the tension melting away. “How did you do that?”

  She chuckled. “Lots of new moms carry tension in the hips. From the pregnancy and then carrying the baby around.”

  “That was amazing.”

  “Well, let’s see if we can’t find some more amazing.”

  The massage lasted forty-five minutes, and Chris managed to find plenty of amazing things to do to my muscles and joints. I probably could have done with another half hour, at least, but I was starting to get worried about Sam and Beth, so I was almost relieved when she said I could hop down.

  “I’m going to draw a bath for you,” Chris said.

  “Oh, you don’t have to—”

  “It’s all part of the process,” she said. “Massage disrupts toxins in your muscles. The bath has essential salts and herbs to help draw those toxins from your skin.”

  It all sounded a little bit silly to me, but she had already moved to the bathroom. I pulled my robe back on and grabbed my phone, hitting the number for Sam’s cell.

  “Everything okay?” I asked, once he had picked up.

  “You’re supposed to be having some amazing spa experience,” he said. “Why are you calling me?”

  “Because you have my daughter, genius.”

  He laughed. “Coles told me what he was planning. Gave me a key to his room. We’re chilling down here.”

  “Do you have everything—”

  “I moved her Pack ’n Play and her stock of milk down here before I left this morning. We’re fine. Promise. Have fun.”

  For some reason, I felt a little teary. They had both gone to so much trouble to make sure I had a nice night. “Sam—”

  “Just have fun,” he repeated.

  I hung up just as Chris was exiting the bathroom. “All set, Miss Flores. Go enjoy your bath. I’ll clean this up and give you some privacy.”

  “Thank you.” Shit, I needed to tip her. I frantically wondered if I had any cash in my purse, but Chris smiled in understanding. “Don’t worry, Miss Flores. It’s all taken care of.”

  A peek into the bathroom showed a fully drawn bath, complete with more candles. Part of me wanted to call Jackson right then to argue, but I knew he would just remind me of my own words and agreement to go along with this. Besides, when else in my life was I going to have the chance to enjoy a night like this? A flash of Lizzie’s face came to my mind. She had complained to me, more than once, about Thomas doing something over the top that she perceived as too expensive. My response was always the same—that’s not something to complain about. That’s something to enjoy and thank your lucky stars someone wanted to give you.