Damage Control (The Hollywood Series Book 2)

by Jae

“I should be,” Grace said with a tired smile. “I’ve been doing this for a quarter of a century.”

  “That makes you sound really old.”

  Groaning, Grace powered herself up from the chair. “Not as old as I feel.”

  Lauren lightly placed one hand on the small of Grace’s back and guided her to the door. “Come on, old woman. Let’s get changed for the premiere.”

  London didn’t live up to its reputation as a rainy city at all. Sunshine filtered through the limo’s windshield as the driver navigated the busy streets toward Leicester Square.

  Despite the gorgeous weather outside, Lauren grew tenser with every second, not just because of the premiere but also because Mrs. Duvenbeck kept tugging on her daughter’s dress and fussing over her hair and makeup. If she starts licking a tissue, I’m out of here.

  It wasn’t as if Grace needed any more help to make her look beautiful. In a backless burgundy dress, her golden-blonde hair falling in soft waves onto her shoulders, she took Lauren’s breath away.

  Grace didn’t react to her mother’s fussing. Either she had long ago gotten used to it, or she was too focused on her own thoughts to notice.

  When the limo came to a stop, Lauren peered through the tinted window at the crowd outside. There had to be thousands of people lining the wide red carpet. Behind them, the Odeon cinema towered over the square, its neon-blue lights reflecting off the black, polished façade.

  One of the security guards approached the limo.

  “Ready, ladies?” Lauren looked from Jill to Grace. She caught Grace’s eye and for a second saw a hint of the nervousness that Grace hid so well.

  Grace gave her a nod and unbuckled her seat belt. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  The security guard outside pulled the door open.

  Pools of spotlights hit them as Grace climbed out, followed by her mother and Jill. Lauren got out after them.

  “Smile,” Mrs. Duvenbeck said every few steps, as if Grace needed the reminder.

  Lauren wanted to whack her over the head with the nearest object.

  Camera flashes went off as Russ joined them, and the three Hollywood stars posed for the photographers. Fans screamed and waved, some of them holding up banners or movie posters. Once again, Lauren marveled at the craziness of the business they were in.

  Grace and her colleagues approached the waist-high metal barriers that had been set up along the edge of the red carpet. Fans leaned across the barricades, holding out autograph books and cards. They signed autographs and posed with some of the fans so they could snap pictures, until one of the organizers—a woman with a clipboard—signaled them to move to the next section of the red-carpet course.

  A girl of about twelve or thirteen sat in a wheelchair, which had been placed off to the side. She stared up at Grace with wide eyes. A man who was probably her father waited next to her.

  “This is Emily,” the woman with the clipboard said. “She’s here through the Make-A-Wish Foundation because she wanted to meet you, Ms. Durand.”

  Grace waved at the TV crew following her around, asking them to stay back. She stepped up to the girl and pulled up her dress a little so she could go down on one knee to be at eye level with her, ignoring what it might do to her dress.

  Lauren watched them with a big lump in her throat.

  After a while, the woman with the clipboard tapped her wristwatch, signaling that it was time to move on. The entire red-carpet event was planned out down to the last second, with nothing left to chance.

  “Give them a minute,” Lauren said, knowing that every second with Grace would mean the world to Emily.

  Grace hugged the girl and whispered something in her ear that made Emily beam. When she got back up, her eyes were damp.

  Two men removed a section of the metal barriers.

  After an encouraging nod from Grace, Emily maneuvered her motorized wheelchair onto the red carpet. Grace joined her, walking next to her and letting her experience how it felt to be treated like a Hollywood star, complete with having your picture taken and fans screaming.

  When clipboard woman pointed over to the press area, indicating that they needed to go, Grace squeezed the girl’s shoulder and smiled down at her. “I have to go, but I’ll see you inside later.”

  Emily nodded eagerly.

  Grace joined the rest of the group. She clutched Lauren’s arm. “She’s just twelve and in a wheelchair already,” she whispered to Lauren. “Do you know how meaningless and stupid all of this,” she indicated the red carpet and the paparazzi surrounding it, “feels compared to what that girl is going through?”

  “I know,” Lauren murmured. She wanted to pull Grace into her arms and hold her but knew she couldn’t, especially with all the paparazzi around.

  “Well, at least she’s not giving up on her dream.” Grace turned toward Jill and made eye contact with her. “She wants to be an actress one day.”

  The group was silent as clipboard woman ushered them over to the press area. Even Mrs. Duvenbeck stopped telling Grace to smile.

  Jill and Grace posed for more pictures and were interviewed by a camera team. They answered all the usual questions about the movie and their choice of dresses with aplomb.

  Just when Lauren was beginning to think they had made it through the press gauntlet, the reporter asked, “I notice you’re here with your mother, Ms. Durand. Why isn’t Nick escorting you today?”

  Damn. Of course the media had noticed Grace’s lack of male escort.

  “He would have loved to be here, but he’s busy crashing cars and blowing things up,” Grace said, garnering a few laughs. “Seriously, he’s in the middle of shooting his own movie, but he’ll join us for the premiere in Los Angeles.”

  Then Russ moved up behind them and posed for more photographs with his co-stars before they finally made their way inside.

  This was it—the moment of truth. In about one hundred and twenty minutes, she’d get her first real feedback about the movie that might make or break her career after her last one had tanked at the box office. Not that she’d get an honest opinion from most of the people crowding the theater’s foyer. They would just put on their Hollywood smiles and tell her what they thought she wanted to hear, no matter whether they’d really liked the movie and her performance.

  Not Lauren, though. She knew she could count on Lauren to give her honest feedback. In search of her publicist, she looked around the crowded lobby. It wasn’t hard to find Lauren. In her black pantsuit, she stuck out of the mass of dress-wearing women and men in tuxedos. She stood holding a glass of champagne but didn’t drink from it while she chatted with two British actresses.

  The ushers started showing everyone to their seats, and Grace realized with disappointment that Lauren wouldn’t sit anywhere near her. She would have liked to see her reaction while the movie played on the big screen.

  Jill appeared at her elbow. “Are you okay? This is your big night, so why are you frowning?”

  “It’s nothing,” Grace said, not sure how to explain what had been going through her mind. “I’m just beat.”

  “Oh, God, me too. Do you think anyone will notice if we sleep through the movie?”

  Grace chuckled. “Probably. Come on. Let’s take our seats. The ushers are getting antsy.” With a quick glance back at Lauren, she led Jill toward the front and took her seat between her mother and Jill.

  Minutes later, one of the producers took the stage and introduced the movie and then the actors and creators, calling them up to join him on stage one by one.

  Stepping once more into the spotlight, Grace peered at the rows below and smiled at some familiar faces before saying a few words. She couldn’t even remember what she’d said afterward. It took some effort not to fidget while she waited until they could finally take their sea
ts again.

  Her nervousness grew as the lights dimmed and the red curtain parted, revealing a huge screen.

  When the opening credits rolled, Jill reached over and took her hand. It was a bit clammy, just like Grace’s own. Good to know she wasn’t the only one who was a little nervous, even after years in show business. Smiling, she squeezed her friend’s fingers and focused on the movie. If she tried hard enough, she could almost forget that she was watching herself.

  By the time they piled back into the limo, Jill looked exhausted.

  Lauren and Grace exchanged worried glances. Just as Lauren was about to suggest that Jill should skip the after-party and head back to the hotel, Grace lowered the screen separating the back of the limousine from the front.

  “Can we make a quick stop at the hotel?” Grace said to the driver.

  “Of course, ma’am.” The driver pulled out into traffic.

  Grace’s mother frowned. “Honey, we don’t want to be the last ones showing up at the after-party.”

  “I’d really like to change before we head to the party,” Grace said. “I wouldn’t want to ruin this beautiful dress that you found for me.”

  Lauren bit back a grin and gave Grace a hidden little nod.

  When the limo stopped in front of the hotel, Grace said, “Why don’t you wait here? I’ll make it quick. Jill, can you come and help me out of this dress?”

  Her mother opened her mouth to protest, but Grace already climbed out of the limo, Jill in tow.

  Ten minutes later, Grace returned in a silvery jumpsuit that clung to her curves—and without Jill.

  “How did you manage to get her to stay behind?” Lauren asked as they headed toward the after-party, which was being held at another hotel.

  “Oh, that was easy. I just had her lie down on my bed while I pretended to think about what to wear. By the time I had changed, she was fast asleep. I left her a note in case she wakes up, which I doubt.”

  Lauren knew Grace had to be just as exhausted and jet-lagged, even if she didn’t show it. As the movie’s lead actress, she had to make an appearance at the post-premiere party before she could get some rest, though.

  The party was already in full flow when they arrived. The guest list looked like the who’s who of British and international film stars, and Mrs. Duvenbeck instantly left them to mingle with the rich, famous, and beautiful. Buffet tables were set up around the edges of the room, featuring some of the Southern food that the characters had cooked in the movie—grits, cornbread, fried chicken, and peanut butter pie. Lauren grinned. At least she could make sure that Grace ate more hearty food than two leaves of salad.

  “I know what you’re thinking.” Grace wagged her finger at her.

  Lauren tried to look innocent. “Which is?”

  “You want to get me a plate piled high with that admittedly delicious-smelling food. Don’t even think about it, Lauren Pearce.”

  “Actually, I was just thinking about the movie.” Well, the food in the movie, to be more precise.

  “Oh.” Grace seemed to instantly forget about the food. “What did you think?” She looked at Lauren as if world peace depended on her answer.

  Lauren knew the feeling well. She’d felt the same while she’d waited to hear how Grace had liked her script. It amazed her that a seasoned actress like Grace still seemed to care so much about what others thought of her performance. “I liked it.”

  The tense set of Grace’s shoulders didn’t relax. “But?”

  “Don’t be silly,” Mrs. Duvenbeck interrupted as she reappeared next to them. “There’s no but. You were great, darling. Wasn’t she?” She stared at Lauren, daring her to do anything but agree.

  “You really were great,” Lauren said.

  “See?” Mrs. Duvenbeck patted her daughter’s arm. “Even Ms. Pearce recognizes a talent of your magnitude when she sees it.”

  Even me? What’s that supposed to mean? Lauren held back the reply at the tip of her tongue. She didn’t want to spoil Grace’s special night by getting into a fight with her mother.

  “Oh, there’s Lucius!” Mrs. Duvenbeck waved to someone across the room. “Come say hello to him, Grace.”

  “Go ahead. I will join you in a minute,” Grace said. When her mother marched off, she turned to Lauren. “What did you really think?”

  A passing-by waiter offered them glasses of champagne. Grace took a glass of orange juice instead, and Lauren followed suit.

  “Well, you know that I’m not normally a fan of romantic movies, but I really liked this one. It was different from your other movies,” Lauren said. The movie had its lighter moments, but as a whole, it had been more serious than Grace’s usual romantic comedies—and more adult.

  Images from the love scene still flashed through Lauren’s mind. It had been tastefully done, more romantic than erotic, but the curve of a full breast and fake sweat glittering on creamy skin still made Lauren wonder whether that had been Grace in the love scene or whether she’d used a body double.

  “Different as in worse?” Grace asked, a tiny wrinkle between her brows.

  “No. Not at all. Quite the opposite. It’s just my opinion, of course, but I liked this movie better than your others.”

  “My mother didn’t think it was a good idea to take a chance on something different.”

  “Well, I do,” Lauren said, not just so she wouldn’t have to agree with Grace’s mother. “No offense, but I think you’re wasting your talent on the kind of movies you’ve been making so far. I know you’ve got a much broader range as an actress. Why don’t you show it off more often?”

  “Because…well, because it’s a risk. People love me for my romantic comedies. There’s no guarantee I’ll do as well in dramas.”

  “True. But I think it’s a risk worth taking. You were great in Ava’s Heart.”

  Grace nodded slowly as if letting Lauren’s words sink in. “Maybe we both need to learn to take more risks in our careers. I’ll tell you what. If you sell that script of yours, I’ll audition for the lead role.”

  Orange juice splashed over the rim of Lauren’s glass. She gaped at Grace. “Are you serious?”

  Before Grace could reply, her mother was back and dragged her across the room toward a silver-haired gentleman.

  Stunned, Lauren stayed behind, staring after Grace.

  By the time they made it home from the after-party, it was nearly one in the morning. Grace groaned when she remembered that they’d have to check out of the hotel to fly to Berlin at six.

  Her mother staggered through their deluxe suite, mumbled “good night,” and disappeared into her bedroom, where she started to snore so fast that Grace doubted that she’d even removed her makeup before dropping onto the bed.

  Grace kicked off her high heels on her way to the bathroom. Once she’d removed the makeup, her face looked as tired as she felt. She headed toward her own bedroom. At the door, she remembered Jill was probably still sleeping in her bed. She opened the door an inch and peeked in.

  When her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she could make out Jill’s shape in the bed. She tiptoed in and retrieved her pajamas. For a moment, she considered rummaging through Jill’s purse to see if she could find her key card, but she didn’t want to invade her privacy or wake her. The promo tour was especially taxing on Jill, so she needed every little bit of sleep she could get.

  Sighing, she turned back, changed into her pajamas, and made herself comfortable on the sofa in the living area.

  Her mother’s snoring drifted through the door.

  Grace pressed a couch pillow over her face, hoping to drown out the noise, but it was no use. Her mother could outdo a lumberjack when it came to the volume of her snoring. Grace tossed and turned for a few minutes. She was exhausted and jet-lagged, but after the premiere and the pa
rty, adrenaline was still buzzing through her system. With her mother’s snoring, she wouldn’t be able to settle down and sleep.

  She stared up at the dark ceiling. How the heck could Jill sleep through that racket? Either the second door drowned it out, or Jill was dead to the world. Grunting, Grace tossed off the afghan and put on the bathrobe the hotel provided. Maybe some nice, cold water would help. She slipped the key card into the bathrobe’s pocket, took the ice bucket from the kitchenette, and softly closed the door behind her.

  Someone else had apparently had the same idea. Lauren stood in front of the ice machine in sweatpants and a T-shirt. She coughed once, confirming that it was really her, even before she turned.

  “What are you doing up?” Lauren asked. “Is Jill still in your bed?” She bit her lip as if only now realizing how that sounded. “I mean…”

  “I know what you meant. Yes, she is, but that’s not the problem. The sofa is pretty comfortable…if no one is snoring next door.”

  “Your mother?”

  Grace nodded.

  Lauren scratched her neck. She looked cute in a T-shirt that had an image of a yellow, downy chick and the words PR chick printed on the front. “Well, I would offer to let you bunk with me, but I don’t have a suite and there’s just one bed in my room, so…”

  “It’s okay.” Grace didn’t want to even imagine the drama if her mother found out that she’d spent the night with Lauren, no matter how innocently.

  “Oh, but I packed some earplugs. Do you want them?”

  It seemed Lauren had thought of everything. Grace wondered if she was always so well prepared. Probably. “Oh God, yes. I’d give my right arm for earplugs, maybe throw in the left one too for good measure.”

  “Nah. I think your fans like you better with all your body parts intact. Come on. Let’s get you the earplugs so that you can get some sleep.” Lauren led her to her room, which was just a few doors down from Grace’s suite.