Movie Lovers

by Joachim Jean

  Grace froze for a second. Ice surrounded her heart. She tightened her grip on Jake’s hand and started to run. “Psst, Jake, this way,” she whispered.

  “Don’t run from me, Movie Maven. Let me get a nice shot of you and your boyfriend…the one you slammed in my paper, Celebs ’R Us?” He took a picture, the flash temporarily blinding Grace.

  Jake halted in his tracks. He pulled Grace to him. “You’re not? You can’t be? Please tell me he’s joking!” The pleading look in Jake’s eyes tore out her heart. She had no breath for an answer.

  “Jake Matthews meet Grace Brewster, A.K.A. the Movie Maven,” the reporter said.

  “No, no, it can’t be. Say it isn’t true, Gracie,” Jake begged her as he gripped her arms hard. Grace’s pulse beat wildly. Her mouth went dry as she searched her mind for a way out. The photographer stood by, waiting to take his next photo.

  “Do you mind? I’d like to have a private conversation with my girl,” Jake snapped.

  “Hey, this is a public street, buddy. If you want private, go somewhere else.” Jake made a fist and took a threatening step toward the photographer, who raised his hands. “Hey, I just take pictures. It’s her you want to sock.”

  Grace pulled on his arm. Pain squeezed her heart. She couldn’t let Jake get into a fist fight over her. “Stop, Jake. Please. I can explain,” she said in a quiet voice. The look of shock on his face crushed her courage. Mark snapped several photos while the couple froze in their positions. Jakes eyes searched hers. She blinked back tears and took a shaky breath. “I…”

  “You’ve been the Movie Maven all this time?”

  She nodded once. “But I can explain.”

  He continued as if he hadn’t heard her, “And you didn’t tell me?” The flashes kept flashing. Jake finally turned to the crowd and chased them halfway down the block. When he returned, fury shot from his eyes, his expression stormy.

  “Grace Brewster, how could you?” He came at her aggressively, his voice seething, his anger barely controlled.

  She backed away in fear, her eyes wide. “Please…it was meant for Gunther…”

  “I’m not talking about what you wrote…but you didn’t tell me. Kept this secret…a damn big secret…from me.”

  “I thought you’d be upset…and see, I was right.” He grabbed her arms and gripped her tight. “Ow, you’re hurting me.” The fury on his face calmed for a second as he loosened his grip slightly.

  “We’re living together…almost engaged, and you don’t tell me something this big? How can I trust you? What else are you keeping from me? Maybe a marriage or two? Do you have any other secret identities?”

  She shook her head vigorously. “No secrets, no marriages, no identities.”

  “How can I believe you?”

  “You can, Jake, I didn’t mean to hurt you, I…”

  “A scathing review aimed right at me, and you don’t tell me you wrote it. You didn’t mean to hurt me? You expect me to believe that?”

  “I do, I do. Please.” Tears could no longer be controlled as she watched his expression turn from white-hot rage to ice.

  “I think you’d better stay at Cara’s tonight.”

  “Won’t you let me explain?”

  “There’s nothing to explain. You wanted to hurt Gunther and me. And you did. And you lied to me…”

  “I didn’t lie. I never said I wasn’t…”

  “Don’t play word games with me, Grace. You lied by not coming clean. Now I can’t trust you. And what a vengeful thing to do over…I don’t know. I don’t know you. Thought I did, thought you were a kind, caring, sweet woman…but I was wrong.”

  Jake dropped his hands and shoved them in the pockets of his pants. As he backed away from her, she saw the cold expression on his face melt away only to be replaced by a look of hurt. “I trusted you. You betrayed that trust.”

  Grace wiped her tears. “Please give me a chance.”

  He shook his head slowly before turning his back on her and walking toward his apartment. Grace stood alone on the dark street, sobs wracking her body. She lifted a shaking arm to flag down a taxi on Broadway. Fumbling in her purse, she finally located a clean tissue. As she was wiping her face, a cab stopped. She got in and gave Cara’s address.

  As the car sped up Broadway, Grace turned to look for Jake. They passed him, allowing Grace one last glimpse of him for the night. Her heart shattered. I had it all, my own fairytale, and I wrecked it.

  Chapter Nine

  She sat back in the cab, staring with unseeing eyes out the window. The lights of New York at night blurred into one long, yellow brilliance splitting the darkness as the taxi shot up the avenue. Emotional pain mixed with physical pain until she ached all over. Clutching her purse to her bosom as if it were a lover, she tried to keep her breathing steady to calm herself. Wait until you get to Cara’s. Just wait.

  The vehicle screeched to a halt in front of The Stanford, Rex, the doorman, greeted her. Grace’s hearing had shut down, but she saw his lips move, so she nodded to him. After stuffing a small wad of bills into the tiny payment compartment, she slid across the seat. Later she wouldn’t remember the ride home, paying the driver, or even coming upstairs.

  Her hand shook as she aimed the key in the right direction, but didn’t connect. Finally able to steady one with her other, she jammed the key in the lock and turned. Grant was right behind the door when she opened it. “Gracie, it’s you. I thought someone was trying to break in.”

  Grace looked up at him and tears began to form again, but words wouldn’t come. Grant stepped back to let her in the house. “Grant! Who’s at the door?” Cara called from the living room.

  “It’s Gracie.” Grace stood frozen, watching Cara enter the hall. At the sight of her sister, Grace’s defenses fell away. She let out a cry as the floodgates opened up, burying her face in her hands. Cara’s arms were around her in a heartbeat.

  “Pookie! Darling, what’s wrong? What is it? Did something happen to Jake? Talk to me?”

  Grace couldn’t hear what her sister was saying, because she had lost control. Sobbing, she began to sink to the floor. Grant grabbed her around the waist, and he and Cara slowly moved her to her small room. Once inside, they eased her down on the bed. Grace stopped to gasp for air.

  Grant whipped out a handkerchief and handed it to her. She cleaned up her face and steadied her breathing.

  “Take your time, Pookie.” Grace gave a small smile at the endearment. “What happened?”

  “Jake broke up with me.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Tonight we met some…he found out…” She stopped to take a deep breath. “I’m the Movie Maven…and tonight, Jake found out.”

  Cara gasped as her hand flew to her mouth. “Gracie, you’re not. Tell me you’re not.”

  “Who’s the Movie Maven?” Grant seemed confused.

  “A woman who wrote horrible, scathing reviews of Gunther’s movies…everybody’s movies for Celebs ‘R Us,” Cara said.

  “I am, Cara. I am.” Grace hung her head.

  “Why?”

  “Because of what Gunther did.”

  “But Jake?”

  “Never mind. It doesn’t matter. The things he did were jerky but didn’t deserve that.”

  “Then why?”

  “I was angry…furious…at Gunther, at myself. I’d been betrayed, and I wanted revenge.”

  “Oh, baby. If only you’d come to me…”

  “What could you have done, Cara? What? Nothing!” Grace bounded off the bed. “You can’t fix everything, Carol Anne. You can’t. I know you want my life to be perfect…me to be perfect, but I’m not. And this time I made the biggest mistake ever. I didn’t tell Jake. I should have. He trusted me. Then he finds out I have this other…persona, identity, whatever. A big secret.”

  Cara and Grant were silent.

  “He’s right, you know. He’s right. I blew it, destroyed what we had.”

  “You told him about Gunther, why couldn’t
you tell him about this?” Cara asked.

  “Because I was afraid…afraid he’d be mad at me for slamming him. I was pretty nasty. I knew he’d be hurt. I was afraid I’d lose him. And I was right.”

  “So what happened?”

  Grace explained about Tiffany’s threat when she’d stopped the bad reviews. Grant and Cara were sympathetic. Cara hugged her and rose to leave.

  “Oh my God,” Gracie moaned.

  Cara turned at the door. “What?”

  “Wait until Gunther finds out.” She shuddered as she sank down on her bed, her head in her hands.

  “Gunther Quill is not a man to trifle with, Gracie.”

  “Figured.” Fear shot through her veins. “What do you think he’ll do?”

  “Let’s hope he’ll consider you small potatoes and do nothing,” Cara said as she left the room.

  Something tells me he’s not a man to sit by and not retaliate when attacked. She turned out the light and buried her head under her pillow, as if she could hide from the wrath of the powerful Mr. Quill.

  Unable to sleep, Grace paced, drank coffee, tried to write a note to Jake at least three times, and then paced some more. By six o’clock she was completely exhausted and fell asleep. She awoke at eleven to a silent house. Sarah was at school, Grant at work, and Cara on her way to the theater.

  Matinée day! Jake will be at the theater soon, too. She showered and dressed in jeans and a sweater. By one she left the apartment, heading to Jake’s. She let herself in quietly then called his name twice to make certain he wasn’t home. Matinée starts at two. He can’t still be here.

  Quickly she packed her things and put her keys on the kitchen counter. She read the letter she wrote one more time.

  You’re right. I should have told you. I love you, but I understand why we can’t be together anymore. I’m so sorry I wrecked everything between us. I didn’t mean to.

  Grace

  She folded the paper, kissed it, and placed it beside the keys. She managed to get the heavy suitcases out the door and into a taxi. With a deep sigh, she watched Jake’s building disappear as the cab rode north.

  Unpacking was the hardest thing she’d ever done. With every garment she placed in the bureau or closet, she envisioned how happy she had been with Jake. Only a week of living with him, but night after night being together at the theater, watching him perform, making love with him, dancing, eating pizza, telling jokes…there were so many things about their time together she loved and nothing she hated.

  Hanging up her lavender silk dress, she shrank back in horror. Damn! Her sexy outfit for dancing the samba hung there, innocently mocking her. The dance contest is tonight! A soft pink chiffon dress to wear for the waltz hung next to the fiery samba ensemble. No, no, no. Not dancing tonight. No way. If I go and he doesn’t show up, I’ll die. I’m not going. Jake’s not going to be there. He couldn’t even look me in the eye, let alone dance with me.

  A new heaviness entered her heart. Something else she wanted she wouldn’t have. She sank down on the bed and heaved a long sigh. Lying back, she pulled the quilt around her. Suddenly, exhaustion trumped being upset, and she fell asleep.

  At three o’clock she awoke. The show’s over. She turned off her cell phone and put on her coat, heading to The Blue Heron bar on Eighth Avenue. She and Jake went in there from time to time. They knew the bartender.

  “Hi, Barry.”

  “Hey, Grace. What can I do for you?”

  “How about a margarita, straight up, and some chicken fingers?”

  “Coming right up.” She took a table in the corner and took a swig of her drink. The alcohol was cold and soothing going down. I need to stop the pain. Grace sat back and watched the old reliables file in. As a writer, she enjoyed watching people and trained her quiet gaze on the men and women who chose this tavern to ice their troubles in.

  She finished her margarita and ordered another. A quick glance at the clock told her it was four o’clock. Dance contest is at eight. Gotta a lot of time to kill here. She nibbled on the chicken fingers and listened in on conversations.

  * * * *

  At the theater, Jake rushed into Cara’s dressing room right after the show. “Where’s Grace?”

  “I don’t know. Home I’d guess. She was pretty upset.”

  Jake lowered his gaze, trying to hide his embarrassment. “I was a little harsh with her last night.”

  “I don’t want to interfere. Please don’t put me in the middle,” Cara said.

  “Tonight’s the dance contest. She’s supposed to be here.”

  “Did you call her?”

  “Straight to voicemail.”

  “Damn!”

  “I’m going home and see if she’s there.”

  “Didn’t you tell her to move out?”

  “I only asked her to spend last night at your place.”

  Cara cocked an eyebrow at him. “Isn’t that the same thing, Jake?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe. I didn’t mean it to be. I’m willing to listen to her side today.”

  “You might not get a chance.”

  “Hey, wouldn’t you have been pissed?”

  “I suppose. Look. Leave me out. Okay? She’s my sister, and you’re my co-star…I’m right in the middle. Yipes! I don’t really know what happened and don’t want to. You two have to work it out.” Cara opened her door, indicating that Jake should leave.

  “Will you call me if you find her?”

  “I will. I’m sure she’ll be at the dance contest tonight. Not like Gracie to run out on a commitment.”

  “Not so sure,” he said under his breath, as he headed down the hall to his room. Jake waited another hour and called Grace about five times before he headed home. After opening the door to his apartment, he called her name. No answer. Hoping a beer would calm his nerves, he went to the refrigerator. There he spied the keys and the note on the counter. Oh, no. Gracie! A new pain entered his heart.

  Last night he had been upset. Worried that he’d rushed into his relationship with Gracie, not knowing her well enough, he’d determined to have a long talk with her before deciding what to do. Now her departure short-circuited that. Dammit!

  He threw the note in the trash, chugged his beer and sat down with his cell phone. Must find Grace. Need to talk. He called Cara, then Dorrie Rogers. But Gracie wasn’t on Central Park West, and she wasn’t at the studio. He called Quinn, but neither he nor Susanna had seen Grace.

  Now it was six o’clock, and time was getting short. He called Cara again. “Bring her costumes to the studio, please. Come half an hour early.”

  “Will do. Have you heard from her?”

  “Not yet. You?” Jake paced.

  “Nope.”

  “See you later.”

  He hung up and got his coat. Hmm. Smuggler’s Cove, The Blue Heron, Casey’s Place…one by one until I find her. He entered Smuggler’s Cove and went straight to the bar.

  “Have you seen Gracie, George?” The bartender shook his head. “Should I tell her you’re looking for her if she shows up?”

  “Nah. Never mind. I want to surprise her.”

  As he walked down the street, he couldn’t keep his mind from going over and over what had happened between them. Guilt fought with indignation, mistrust battled with love in his heart. Instead of finding a solid answer, he only became more confused. Is it my fault she moved out? Did I tell her to? I thought I only said I wanted to spend one night apart. Maybe she thought…I said…I don’t know. Women, dammit!

  When he walked into The Blue Heron, Barry nodded at him then glanced over to the corner where Gracie was sitting. Jake approached her slowly. She was looking at her drink and didn’t notice him.

  “Is this seat taken?” Jake stood next to her.

  Grace’s head snapped up, and she stared at him. Her eyes filled with tears as she pushed the chair toward him with her foot. He sat down and moved closer. A waitress stopped by, but Jake waved her off.

  “Hey! I wanted another d
rink.”

  “Looks like you’ve had enough, Grace.”

  She turned hostile eyes to him. “Says who?”

  “I do.”

  “You have no right…you gave that up last night.”

  “What? What did I give up? I wanted to spend one night apart. Wanted to think…by myself. I didn’t tell you to move out!” Jake raised his voice.

  “Stop shouting at me!” A few tears spilled over and ran down her cheek.

  “We’re dancing tonight.” He strained to control his anger and to speak in a quiet tone.

  “Are we?” She turned a belligerent face toward him.

  “We are. No more drinks. How many have you had already?”

  “Two…I think.”

  “You think? How are you going to dance, drunk?”

  “I’m not drunk, and I’m not going to dance.”

  “Really? I’m your partner, and I say you are.”

  “You’re not my partner. You were…until last night,” she said in a soft voice.

  “I am. At least I’m still your dance partner.”

  Grace wiped her tears with her hand. “That’s all you are. And now,” she waved in the air, “you’re not that anymore, either.”

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “You threw me out last night, remember?”

  “I didn’t…throw you out. I wanted to spend one night apart. I thought we could talk today, but you disappeared.”

  “I hate people who push themselves on others, stay where they’re not wanted…”

  “You mean me?” Pain seared his chest.

  “Me, stupid! Me! You told me to go away last night, and so I did. I’ll never bother you again.” He heard the strain in her voice.

  “I don’t want you to go away,” he softened his tone. “Please dance with me, Gracie.”

  Her gaze searched his face. He took her hand, and she let him hold it for a few seconds before slipping it out of his grasp.

  “Come on. We worked so hard. We’re good, and Dorrie is counting on us. They sold a bunch of tickets…it’s for charity. They’re expecting us.”

  “And if I do…then what?”