by Joachim Jean
“I don’t know.” Tell her you still care about her. Say something!
She gasped and more tears slid down her face.
“I was hurt. Don’t know what to do.” Jake looked down. You’re making it worse.
“Do you still have feelings for me?” she croaked out.
“Do you?” he asked, stubbornly refusing to admit how much he cared for her.
“It’s wrecked now. I’ve wrecked it.”
He glanced at his watch. Shit, it’s seven! “Would you please dance with me?”
“Okay.”
“Are you sober enough?”
“Of course. Two drinks. That’s all.” She stood up, wobbled for a second, then giggled. Jake palmed her elbow, guiding her outside. He flagged down a taxi, and they went straight to the studio.
“Wait! My costumes…”
“Cara’s bringing them.”
* * * *
The next hour was a blur to Grace. Jake walked her around the block, talking to her, while he waited for Cara to show up with her costumes. The studio began to fill up, and Gracie’s nerves were shot. The heaviness in her chest prevented anxiety but weighed her down. Cara arrived twenty-five minutes before show time and dragged Grace backstage. “Take off your clothes,” her sister barked.
“Wish you were Jake saying that,” Gracie kidded. Cara shot her sister a sharp look. “I’m not too happy with you. Disappearing like that. Scaring the hell out of me, Jake, Grant…and Dorrie almost had a heart attack! So shut up and do as you’re told.”
Grace undressed and followed her sister’s instructions without uttering a word. I’ve let everyone down. Been a baby. Time to man up.
Cara pinned up her sister’s hair for the samba, their first number. Grace slipped on her black satin heels and tiptoed out of the dressing room and into the wings. Her outfit consisted of a black lace bra corset combination over black lace stockings, and a black satin short skirt split up the side with red ruffles. Jake was there in his costume, looking more handsome than he had a right to. Her gaze traveled over his body in the tight black suit that clung in all the right places, with a dark red shirt open to the navel.
“You look amazing,” she whispered.
His stare moved down her body, heating her insides. “So do you,” he whispered back.
“When do we go on?”
“Two more dances.”
“Should we warm up?”
“I thought we did, walking around outside.”
“Oh, yeah. But I need something more…before we go on.”
Jake faced her. “What?”
She glanced at the ground, nervously chewing her lip.
“What?” he repeated.
“Nothing.” A kiss would warm me up for the samba. A kiss would be wonderful…not gonna happen because you blew it.
He got closer to her and draped his arm around her waist. Grace closed her eyes and sank into his shoulder. When the music stopped, the couple dancing received applause then left the temporary stage. Then, the next couple came on and their song was cued.
“We’re next,” Jake whispered. The dance seemed to take only thirty seconds and before she knew it, Grace heard Dorrie announce them.
“Grace Brewster and Jake Matthews!”
He took her hand, and they went on stage. They struck their poses and as the music began, their chemistry kicked in. The song was seductive. Jake was masterful and sexy. The sway of their hips pulled her into the number in a way it hadn’t quite before. Relaxed by the alcohol, Grace bent to his commands with ease and fluidity. The sexual tension between them fairly crackled like a loose power line.
They slinked across the stage, stopping to grind their hips together, shake top to bottom and then execute the intricate steps in unison with each other and the music. The heat they generated was enough to wilt the flowers in her hair as well as stoke smoldering fires within her. She wanted him.
When the dance was over, the audience leapt to their feet, applauding. Grace and Jake bowed. Then, to each other, and Jake kissed her hand. Back stage, he hugged her.
“I’ve got to change!” Grace ran off to the dressing room where Cara was waiting for her. Off with the sexy samba costume and on with the filmy, chiffon dress for the Viennese Waltz.
“That was some steamy dance, Pookie,” Cara said, unzipping Grace’s outfit.
“You liked it?”
“It was great. You two were smokin’ hot. Is it like that off stage, too?”
“Cara!”
“What?” Cara hung up the samba costume.
“Pretty nosy, aren’t you?” Grace snatched the waltz costume off the chair.
“So? I’m your sister.”
“You’re not entitled to know everything about me.” Grace wiggled into the dress.
“Says who?”
“Why don’t you tell me how hot you and Grant are?”
Cara stopped. “Okay. You win.” Cara zipped the back up.
“Hair?”
“Must be different. Long and loose,” Cara said, brushing Grace’s locks.
“It’s weird having you do this for me.”
“I know. I like it.” Cara grinned at her little sister. “Break a leg…do you say that for a dance contest?” the actress’s brow furrowed.
“Not sure. But I get it.”
“Now go. Dance with the man of your dreams and forget about everything else.” Cara hugged her sister and returned to her seat.
I’ll try. Man of my dreams? Maybe I was just dreaming. She sighed and slipped backstage to meet Jake. Grace stood in the wings, waiting for the couple doing a Pasa Doble to finish. Jake joined her. He gave her a small smile and a nod of approval before taking her into his embrace. She loved how strong his hands were, and always warm and dry.
“Back by popular demand, doing the Viennese Waltz, Grace Brewster and Jake Matthews,” Dorrie said, and then led the applause as the couple took their place on the stage. The music flowed sweetly as Grace and Jake formed a frame with their shoulders. A lightness in her step enabled her to float across the floor in Jake’s arms.
As she gave herself over to the rhythm of the music, her tension and anxiety melted away. When she looked into his eyes, it became only Grace and Jake dancing together in perfect harmony. The audience, and even Dorrie, fell away for Grace as Jake whirled her around the room with subtle pressure from his fingers on her waist. Lovely, beautiful.
Their perfect timing and the way their bodies flowed as one told Grace they belonged together. She refused to think but simply to feel the joy coursing through her as she put herself in his capable hands.
The music ended too soon. Again they received ‘bravo’ cheers, tons of applause, and a standing ovation. After their bows to the audience and each other, reality came crashing down on Grace as Jake’s expression became hooded. She sensed him pulling back from her and stepped aside to let him go. Only way to hold him is to let him go.
Emotion rose in her chest, making speech impossible. She fled to her dressing room and closed the door. With trembling hands, she fussed with the zipper until Cara arrived.
“Let’s go out and celebrate, Pookie,” Cara said, folding the chiffon dress while Grace slipped into her sweater and jeans. When they returned to the studio, most of the people had left. Grant, Sarah, and Dorrie were waiting.
“Ah, ladies! A fine dance, Gracie. Beautiful. Let’s go to Hark’s Cabin for a bite and some champagne.” Grant turned from Grace to Dorrie. “Will you join us?”
“How lovely. Let me get my coat.”
“Where’s Jake?” Grace asked.
Grant’s face turned pink and his gaze slid to the floor. “He’s gone.”
* * * *
Jake wasn’t happy with himself for skipping out on Grace after the dance. Left her without a word. Coward! He was confused and needed time to think. Then he needed to talk to Grace. Maybe. He pulled the collar of his coat up against the early spring wind as he walked down Broadway toward his building.
When? When am I going to talk to her? What am I going to say? I didn’t mean to break us up, did I? Maybe I did. How would I feel if Grace had asked to take a night off from me? Probably would have been fine with it. She overreacted. Typical female.
The air was much colder than when he went to look for Grace, and his thin jacket wasn’t keeping him very warm. Jake shivered as a gust of wind blew right through the fabric, chilling his arms and neck. He increased his pace. Only two more blocks.
When he entered his apartment, the first thing he did was put hot water in the coffeemaker. Need something warm. Reluctant to take off his jacket, he slumped down on the sofa and stretched out. The rooms were warm but drafty near the windows, so he stayed curled up on the convertible couch that made into a bed. By the time the coffee was ready, Jake was already asleep, clothes and all. After half an hour, the machine shut off.
At three o’clock in the morning, Jake’s phone rang. He hid his head under a pillow, but the incessant ringing wouldn’t stop. Cracking his eyes open, he looked at the display. Gunther Quill. What the fuck does he want at this hour? Jake answered.
“Jake! You’re home!”
“It’s three in the morning, Gunther. What do you want?"
“Oh, right, right. Three hour difference…sorry about that, old chap.”
“What’s up? Are you plastered?”
“Had a few. I admit it. Still…”
“What?”
“Oh, yeah. Reason I called. Found out Grace Brewster is Movie Maven.”
“Yeah, so?”
“That bitch…that little bitch! She panned my movies…dumped on them royally. She probably hurt sales. Dumped on you, too, buddy.”
I’m not your buddy, Gunther. “Your point is?”
“I’m getting there. Don’t rush me.”
“Look…I’d like to get back to sleep?”
“Oh. Yeah. Sorry. Point is, now it’s payback time. Time to destroy her. I’m gonna call every producer and director I know. Gonna make sure they know her secret identity.”
“Don’t do that.”
“I am. And you’re gonna, too. Look at what she did to you!”
“Gunther…”
“She humiliated you in front of the whole movie industry…”
“Not really.”
“She did. ‘Most-wooden-performance-of-the-year award. I wanted to take his pulse to see if he was still alive. As a romantic lead he has the sex appeal of a slug. His performance put me to sleep.’ What more do you need to hear?”
Jake gritted his teeth, warding off the renewed sting of those words…that had already been burned on his brain, the first time he had read them. Still, he would not retaliate. As outrageous as her actions were, he had behaved very badly toward her. Maybe he deserved such a public slap in the face. “No way. Not going to do anything.”
“What? You’re going to let that little…little…”
“Watch it, Gunther. She’s my girlfriend.”
“Still? Even after this? Oh, I forgot. You’re banging her, so you’re going to turn the other cheek? Well, not me. If you won’t help me destroy her, I’ll do it by myself.”
“Don’t, Gunther!” Jake fairly screamed into the mouthpiece.
“She deserves it.”
“You had it coming. She’s a nice kid, give her a break. You owe her, anyway, after what you did.”
“Owe her? I don’t think so. What did I do? Sleep with a beautiful, willing young woman? Since when is that against the law?”
“Come on. We both know the truth.”
“Yeah? Well, prove it. In a court of law. Until then, she’ll never be able to show her face in Hollywood, after I get through with her.”
“Do the decent thing, Gunther.”
“Why should I? Go ahead, Jake, be a chump. Hang out with her and see how much work you get.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“Just telling you the truth.” With that, the line went dead.
Jake punched his fist into a pillow on the sofa. He heated up the cold coffee because he sure wasn’t going back to sleep. Thank God it was Monday, his day off. Think, think. Gotta be some way to stop him.
Jake paced a bit, ending up at the window. New York City was quiet at that hour. An occasional drunken couple staggered down the street singing, a few taxicabs drove by, but otherwise the city was asleep. Quinn! Quinn’ll know what to do. He’s got a great rep. He’ll help. Once he had an action to take, Jake calmed down. Suddenly exhausted, he stretched out on the sofa again and was asleep quickly.
Chapter Ten
When Jake arrived at Quinn’s apartment, he realized he had interrupted an intimate moment. Both Quinn and his wife, Susanna, were wearing robes and had a slight flush to their faces. Idiot! Should have called first.
Holding up his phone, Quinn said, “Have you met this yet, Jake? It’s called the cell phone.”
“I’m so sorry…didn’t realize…I should have called first.”
“Damn right. This had better be urgent. My day off is…my time with Susie.”
“Sit down, Jake. Don’t mind, Quinn. He’s always grumpy before nine on his day off. I’ll put up some coffee. Don’t say anything important until I get back.”
Jake paced, too nervous to sit.
“Hey, you’re making me tired, just watching…and wearing out the rug.”
“Sorry. I can’t sit. Gunther Quill is going to be on the move soon, and I need to do something.”
“Hey! I told you not to say anything important until I got back!”
“Sorry,” Jake called into the kitchen. He sat down on the sofa, got up, slumped into a chair, got up, and tried the sofa again.
“Hurry up in there, Susanna. This guy’s driving me crazy out here.”
Finally, she walked in carrying a tray with three mugs of coffee, milk, and sugar. “Okay, Jake. Fire away.”
The story about Gunther Quill’s threat to Grace spilled out rapid-fire, until he got to the part about why she did it.
“And why did Grace attack his film…and you?” Quinn cocked an eyebrow.
“I can’t tell you that. She told me in confidence. It’s personal. Trust me she had a good reason to lash out at him. Though, maybe this wasn’t the best way to do it.”
“Come on, Jake. You tell me this exciting story and leave out the best part. Revenge, what drives it? Gotta know.”
“I’m sorry, Quinn, I can’t.”
“So what are we going to do to save Grace? Does she know he’s gunning for her?” Susanna asked.
“I don’t think so.” Jake sat back and sipped his coffee. Knowing his friends would help brought some relief and loosened his muscles a bit.
“I’ll talk to him,” Quinn volunteered.
“Don’t! I don’t want him to trash you, too,” Jake said.
“Maybe we should ask Grace…and Cara? She seems to know Gunther pretty well. Isn’t she considering doing a movie with him?”
“Yeah. Good.” He nodded.
“You’ve got to tell Grace,” Susanna put in.
“Me?” His eyebrows rose.
“You’re her guy, so yeah.” Quinn concurred with his wife.
“Oh, no. Not sure we’re still a couple.”
“What happened?” Susanna asked.
Jake related a shorthand version of their fight and break-up. They were silent for a while.
“You should be spending time on singing lessons and dancing lessons, not getting wiped out by some chick. You’re new to this business, Jake. Got a lot to learn.”
“I didn’t plan on her. Believe me.”
“But it happened. And now?” Susanna prompted.
“Now? I don’t know,” Jake said, shaking his head, staring at the floor.
“But you want to save her.”
“Yeah. Can’t let Gunther take another shot at her…her writing.” He jumped to his feet and began to pace.
“Loved her screenplay, by the way. Susanna passed it on to Max.”
“Gr
eat! Until he hears from Gunther, that is.”
“Max Webster is his own man. He won’t follow Gunther.”
“I hope. Still, bad publicity…”
“Call Cara. She’ll know what to do.” Quinn said.
“Could you call her? Invite her over? I don’t want to talk to Grace right now.”
“Why not?” Quinn asked.
“Don’t know what to say.” Jake picked at a loose thread on his shirt.
“That’s cowardly, isn’t it?” Susanna said, as gently as she could.
“Maybe. Until I fix this Gunther thing…”
“What if you can’t fix Gunther? You never gonna talk to her again?” Quinn asked.
“I will. Just not right now.”
“Okay, Quinn. Call Cara.” Susanna shot a stern look at Jake and handed the phone to her husband.
Susanna made French toast and bacon for breakfast. Quinn chattered basketball scores, baseball line-ups, and trades. Jake couldn’t concentrate. He wanted Cara’s help but was afraid she’d be angry with him. Did I break Grace’s heart? Probably. Still, finding out she was the Movie Maven was such a shock, he was still getting used to the idea and dreading the pictures that would appear in a couple of days in Celebs ’R Us, and in the newspapers, too.
He wondered how the anger in his gut looked spilling all over his face and all over the centerspread of the magazine. The thought of what he looked like made him shudder. And Grace. Her pitiful face—so shocked, upset, sad, and imploring. And could he forgive her? No, he couldn’t, he didn’t.
He closed his eyes as the expression of deep hurt on her face reappeared in his mind. Those baby blues, once filled with laughter, happiness, desire, paled underneath the heavy burden of sadness. He’d never forget her eyes.
Asshole. I made everything worse. Now she hates me. Do I still love her? Maybe. Can I trust her? Doubt it. His pain intensified as these thoughts swirled around his mind and heart while he pretended to be listening to Quinn.
Cara arrived after they finished breakfast. Susanna offered her food. “Thanks, but I just ate. What’s this about?”
Quinn started the explanation, and then Jake jumped in. “Grace told you…uh…why she attacked Gunther, right?”
