by Joachim Jean
Silence. Grace tried to catch her breath but couldn’t.
“Gracie, listen. Listen! You get on a plane and get out here right away, Grace Brewster. Whatever it is, we’ll fix it.”
Finally, she found her voice. “You can’t, you can’t…” Gracie dissolved into tears again and hung up. When she could control her emotions, she yanked a small suitcase from the closet, threw in some clothes, and closed up the house. Cara’s right. I’ve got to get out of L.A. I need her.
Grace sat down at her computer and purchased a one-way plane ticket to New York. She made a sandwich and packed it in her purse before calling a taxi. She munched on an apple while she sat by the front gate, texting.
Will be on the nine o’clock red-eye tonight. What’s your address?
Seconds later, she received a reply.
The Stanford, Seventy-Fourth and Central Park West. I’ll send a car for you.
Driver’s name is Bobby. Send me your flight number. Miss you so. Can’t wait to
see you.
Grace sent the information then waited patiently for the cab. I can’t think about…what I’ve done. Can’t take it in now. Have to forget. Move on. How can I? I’ll never be able to forget. She put her head in her hands and cried again.
By the time Grace boarded the plane, she was exhausted. The emotional toll of Gunther Quill’s cold, manipulative behavior had depleted her energy. Being on the go all day with her pulled hamstring, which had stiffened up and began to hurt again, also wore her out. She closed her eyes and woke up three hours later. After a drink and an attempt to read the book she brought, Grace gave up, resigned to staring out the window, hoping to snooze through the rest of the trip.
She went back to sleep, only to awake during landing. Kennedy airport didn’t have the usual hustle and bustle, but maybe that was because it was five in the morning. Gracie yawned and looked around for Bobby. She spied a short, attractive man with dark hair holding up a sign with her name on it, and she approached him.
“Hi, I’m Bobby,” he said, offering his hand as he took her carry-on bag.
“Grace.” She met his with hers.
“Your sister told me to take very good care of you,” he said. Tears once again gathered in her eyes. Bobby put his free arm around her shoulders. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, Bobby’s got the reins now. Everything’s going to be all right. You can tell me all about it in the car.”
They retrieved her luggage from the baggage claim area, and Bobby toted everything to his beautiful town car. He handed Grace his handkerchief before he shut her door.
“What happened? Your sister is worried sick.”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing? Really? Come on, you can do better than that.” Bobby moved the vehicle through the maze of roads leading to the highway.
“It’s private. I can’t talk about it,” she mumbled.
“Did ya kill someone?” He shot her a glance in the rearview mirror.
“No!” She chuckled. “Not that I wouldn’t like to.”
“Got someone you want to have rubbed out?”
Her eyes widened. “You can do that?”
“Nope, but I got your attention.”
She burst out laughing. “Cara didn’t tell me I’d get a comedy routine on the trip.”
“She forgot that? Geez. I’ll have to talk to her. Yeah, I always try out my new material on passengers. Captive audience,” he snickered.
“You do?”
“Gosh, they make ’em gullible in California. No. I just drive. Sometimes I provide a little guidance…a little wisdom. Always a sympathetic ear. But the comedy is spontaneous.”
“I didn’t think I could laugh anymore.” She relaxed against the cushions and looked out the window.
“Never lose your laugh. You look a lot like your sister.”
“She’s the pretty one. I’m the studious one.”
“Oh? You calling me a liar? If so, I’ll have to drive you right back to the airport.”
Grace smiled. “I’m not calling you a liar, that’s just the way it’s always been.”
“Don’t typecast yourself, honey. You’re a beautiful girl. Guys here are gonna flip when they meet you.”
“Think so?”
“Hey, I know great women when I see them. Don’t tell my wife.” He eased them onto the Long Island Expressway.
“You’re married? Damn! All the good ones are taken.” She frowned in mock disappointment. Now it was Bobby’s turn to chuckle.
Traffic thickened as they approached Manhattan. Bobby seemed philosophical about the crush of cars. Grace asked him questions and kept him talking about his work, wife, and now two children. She was happy to keep the spotlight off herself as they rode through New York traffic.
Bobby carried her suitcase inside where Rex, the doorman, picked it up. She hugged Bobby farewell. “Thank you for making the ride so easy.”
“My pleasure. I’m sure I’ll see you again soon.” He tipped his hat.
“Welcome Miss Brewster,” Rex said.
“Grace,” she said, extending her hand. He took it.
“Your family is anxiously awaiting your arrival. It’s a bit early for them, but Miss Cara said to buzz whenever you got here, no matter the time.”
My family. God, that sounds good. A small smile crept over her face. Rex placed her valise in the elevator and pressed the button for the fifteenth floor. When the door opened, Grace moved to pick up the heavy valise, but a tall, handsome, dark-haired man wearing a navy blue terrycloth bathrobe was waiting there and got it first. He introduced himself.
“Grant Hollings. Your soon-to-be-brother-in-law.” He shook her hand. “This way.”
Before she even got to the doorway, Cara, wrapped in a pink terry robe, flew out of the apartment and down the hall, enveloping Grace in her arms for a big hug. She flinched a little when she was squeezed.
“Oh, sorry. I forgot about your shoulder.”
“No problem.” Cara stepped back and ran her fingers through her sister’s hair, staring into her eyes with a worried expression. Grace lowered her gaze to avoid the question hanging between them.
“I’m okay,” she mumbled.
“That’s not how you sounded on the phone,” Cara said.
“I was out of control. But I’m all right now.”
“What happened?” Cara put her arm around her sister as they walked slowly back inside.
“I did something…terrible. And I’ve been punished for it. I don’t want to talk about it, okay?” She hung her head.
“Okay. But you’re still number one with me, Pookie.” The sting of tears made Grace blink.
“Pookie? Mom, you call your sister Pookie?” Sarah, Cara and Grant’s daughter, bounded out of her bedroom to greet her new aunt. Wearing a frilly pink nightgown, her hair flying every which way, the young still girl resembled both older women.
“Only I’m allowed to call her Pookie, Sarah. Meet Grace.”
“Aunt Grace. Can I call you Aunt Pookie?”
Grace laughed. Sarah flew into her embrace, and Grace no longer had time to be sad. The Hollings household burst into activity. Jane, Grant’s sister dragged herself out of bed. She was now bunking in with Sarah so that Grace had a place to sleep.
“Who wants French toast?” she called out.
Everyone chimed in. Jane introduced herself to Grace then lumbered into the kitchen. Sarah skipped to the breakfront to retrieve placemats and napkins. Grant brought down the good dishes from the tall cabinet in the kitchen after placing Grace’s suitcase in her new quarters.
Cara put her arm around her sister. “Like old times, when we were kids…” She teared up.
“Yup. Sunday nights with mom.” Grace’s eyes watered.
“What was that like, Mom?” Sarah asked as she arranged china and silverware on the dining room table. Cara sat down and pulled Sarah into her lap, wrapping the little girl in her arms. “Our mom would make a special dinner on Sunday nights. She’d pull out a jigsaw
puzzle and pop a movie in the VCR. We’d eat, watch a romantic movie, and do our puzzle.”
“Lots of laughing and good food,” Gracie chimed in.
“Can we do that, too, Mom?”
“Sounds like a good idea. No performance on Sunday nights.”
Grant entered the living room with two mugs. “For the Brewster sisters.” He handed one to each.
“Does this have…” Gracie began.
“Light with one sugar, right?” She nodded. “Damn. Sure know how to make a girl feel welcome.” She smiled at Grant, who returned her grin.
She took a sip of her coffee and sat down at the table. For a while, she forgot all about Gunther Quill and her rejected screenplay.
The phone rang and Cara answered it. “I have your copy of our script changes,” she said then paused. “Come on over.”
Chapter Two
“Gracie would you mind giving this script to Jake Matthews? He’s going to pick it up in an hour. I need to go back to bed.” Cara dropped the large envelope on the dining room table.
“No problem.”
“Matinée Day. I’ve got until twelve thirty to get to the theater.”
“Go, lady,” Gracie said, giving her sister a playful shove. “I know you want alone time with Grant.”
Cara blushed. “Where did you get that idea?”
“Know you too well,” Gracie chuckled.
After being up so early, everyone else went back to bed, too, since it was Saturday. Pacing the apartment like a caged animal, trying to keep quiet, didn’t calm her down. So Gracie covered her hair with a scarf and decided to clean. Cleaning relaxed her, always took her mind off her troubles.
Wearing rubber gloves, she was on her hands and knees scrubbing the kitchen floor when Rex buzzed from the lobby. It took Gracie a few minutes to figure out how to work the intercom, but she finally got it and gave the okay for Jake Matthews, Cara’s Broadway co-star, to come up.
When she opened the door, there stood an incredible looking young man. He was about six feet two with perfectly trimmed, light brown hair on the short side, light brown eyes, shoulders as wide as a city block, and a smile that dazzled like sunlight. Her mouth hung open.
“Jake Matthews. I’m here to pick up an envelope?”
Gracie couldn’t move.
“Are you the maid? Is Ms. Brewster here?” Jake peered past her down the hall.
“What?” She spat out. The maid! Grace smoothed out the apron she wore and removed the rubber gloves.
“Housekeeper perhaps?”
“I beg your pardon! I’m Cara’s sister, Grace.” She raised herself up to her full five foot four inches, straightening her back.
“Her sister? Half-sister? Different fathers? Her only sister?” He asked, adding insult to injury.
“Same father. Only sister. Wait here!” Grace controlled the urge to slam the door in his face. He’s Cara’s co-star. Be nice. Be nice. Be nice. She gritted her teeth as she walked down the hallway to the dining room to retrieve the envelope Cara had left on the table. Upon returning to the front entrance, she thrust it into his hand and started to shut the door.
He stopped it with his hand. “Cara has arranged for you to be my date for the premiere of my new movie next week.” Frown lines on his forehead showed his hesitancy. “But if you’d rather not go, well, I understand. I mean you don’t know me, and…you don’t have to, I mean, I can go stag. It’s just a premiere, no biggie or anything.”
Her eyes narrowed as she watched him squirm. So you think I’m too ugly to be your date, huh? You sleezeball. Suddenly, her face changed. The angry, hostile look she’d been wearing melted away, replaced by a falsely sweet smile.
“Why I’d be thrilled to accompany you to your premiere. What a wonderful opportunity to get to know you better. And all those other movie stars. How delightful!” She gushed, fluttering her lashes and watching beads of sweat break out on his forehead.
“Well, then…I guess that’s settled,” he muttered.
She smiled. “When?”
“Next Saturday night. Around…let’s see, movie starts at eight, so I’ll be here at seven thirty.”
“Perfect. I’ll be ready. Formal attire?” She grinned at him and clasped her hands together.
“I guess. This is my first time.” Perspiration from his chest soaked through his T-shirt a little bit.
Grace noticed it and grinned. You haven’t begun to squirm, Mister. “Think it’s formal. But you can ask Cara when you see her.”
“Quinn’ll know. Well…see ya,” he said, backing away before he turned and almost ran down the hall.
Grace leaned her back against the door, dissolving into laughter. Cara wandered into the hallway, yawning. “Who was that?” she asked, stretching her arms straight up in the air.
“Jake Matthews.”
“Did he get those changes?”
“He did. Told me you’d fixed us up for his premiere.” She rested against the wall, giving her sister a penetrating stare.
“Oh, yes. Nearly forgot. You’ll love him. He’s perfect for you.”
“Perfectly obnoxious and full of himself,” Grace mumbled to herself.
“Any more coffee?” Cara stumbled into the kitchen.
He’s going to get the surprise of his life! “Cara! Do you still have that dark pink dress?” Grace followed her. “I want to borrow it.” Grace licked her lips.
“For your date with Jake?”
“Yep. It’s perfect. I’ll make him eat those words.”
“What words?”
“Never mind. I’ve had enough of men who think they can push me around…God’s gift to women. Time for a little revenge.”
Cara turned to face Grace. “You’re not going to do anything drastic, are you? I’ve got to work with him.”
“Relax. I’ll be my most charming self.” Just make him eat his words. I’ll look so good, he won’t even know it’s the same woman. I’ll have him begging for a goodnight kiss.
* * * *
On Saturday night, Jane and Sarah were helping Grace dress for her date. An understudy was performing for Jake so he could attend, and Cara had to be at the theater. Pre-prep for what Gracie had dubbed “Jake’s Earth-shattering date” had begun on Friday morning when Cara had joined Gracie for a facial, then on to the nail salon and the hairdresser.
The women had giggled like schoolgirls as they shared stories, old and new, while their nails were painted and their hair styled. Grace had missed being with Cara and had not seen her sister so relaxed and happy in years. She silently thanked Grant for Cara’s calm demeanor and the improvement in her outlook. Sarah was a totally unexpected delight for Gracie, who was relieved to no longer be the youngest family member.
In town to close a deal for a client, Skip, Cara’s agent, had stopped by for dinner. Since the show was doing well, he was no longer needed in New York and had returned to Hollywood. Skip and Jane had become friends. Grant had accepted him as well.
Gracie marveled at the constant bustle of activity in the Hollings apartment. Adults and children seemed to be coming and going all the time. Meals were often huge affairs, frequently including last minute guests. The mad dash of this new, warm family life soothed Grace’s frayed nerves, and she regained her ability to smile.
Because it was December, Grace had decided to have some holly leaves woven into her hair. The sides were upswept, and it flowed in a gentle curl down her back. The dress was form fitting to the knee, but not too tight to sit down in, then it flared out. There were thin straps, and the front was cut low. The fabric was dark pink taffeta, so the dress shimmered and rustled when she walked.
Tall, silver satin sandals, a white wool cape, and long, silver gloves topped off the outfit.
“You look like Cinderella,” Sarah said.
“Don’t bend over. Even if you drop a hundred bucks,” Jane warned with a snicker.
“I know.”
“Why not, Aunt Jane? If she drops a hundred bucks?”
> “Well, Sarah…”
“She means my bosom might come right out of my dress,” Grace confided.
Sarah gasped, her eyes wide in horror. “Oh, no! That would be terrible! Embarrassing!”
“Right. So I’m going to stand up straight.”
“Can you glue the dress on you?” the little girl asked. The two women burst out laughing.
“I almost wish I could.” Gracie ruffled Sarah’s locks. Just as Grace checked her gold watch, inherited from her mom, the buzzer sounded. Jane instructed Rex to let Jake up.
“I can’t wait to see this. Can I let him in?” her eyes lit up.
“Sure.”
The knock came not one minute later. Jane scurried down the hall to admit Jake. Sarah took a seat at the dining room table. Jake walked down the hall, and when he saw Grace, he stopped. A sharp intake of breath made her turn around.
“I don’t believe we’ve met,” he said, obviously dazzled.
“What? I’m Grace!” She rested her hands on her hips.
“No, really? I didn’t recognize you. Last Saturday you were…” he began to cough and choke. Jane ran to get him a glass of water.
Didn’t recognize me? Serves you right! Arrogant asshole. He took a sip and recovered. “You look amazing. You’re beautiful. Really beautiful. Never would have known it from before.”
“Do you always say whatever comes into your head, without filtering it through your brain?” She picked up her wrap.
He blushed. “Sorry. That wasn’t very nice. I’m sorry.”
Sorry? Not as sorry as you’re going to be. He held her stole for her.
“I’ll put it on in the lobby,” she said, waving him off. He tucked it under his arm.
Grant moseyed out. “Don’t keep her out late. Do you have a driver?”
“Cara lent us Bobby for tonight,” Jake replied.
Grace smiled. “How wonderful, I love him!”
“Have a good time.” Grant leaned over to peck Grace on the cheek. Sarah gave her a hug, and Jane simply waved.
As they walked down the hall, Jake blushed. “I was going to get you flowers, but I didn’t think…” His voice trailed off.
