I walked to the door, already worrying a little bit about wearing a bathing suit in front of Jackson. “Sofie,” he called right before I stepped into the hallway. I paused at the door and looked over my shoulder. He was standing in the middle of the room, watching me. “Thank you.”
I wasn’t exactly sure what he was thanking me for, but I smiled. “You’re welcome.”
Chapter Six
Jackson was right, the party was boring. Getting dressed up and heading into Hollywood Hills was exciting. Driving up to the mansion, gaping at the size and the spectacle—that was fun. Even the first few minutes of the party, watching Jackson mingle with the rich and the famous, were pretty thrilling. There were definitely actors here that I recognized, though none as well known as Jackson. But after twenty minutes of more of the same, I started to feel bad for him. His face must hurt, I thought, watching him flash the trademark grin again and again.
His smile is different, I noticed, studying his face. It was subtle enough that I hadn’t caught it at first, the way his public face looked so different from the one that I had gotten used to seeing. Like the smile he had worn that afternoon at the pool—easy, gentle, sincere. Still a little cocky, especially when I commented on how many girls were checking him out, but always real.
We stayed at the party for an hour and a half. I wondered what he would want to do now—the night was still young. I had seen countless pictures of him leaving nightclubs in L.A. I felt a rush of nerves. Would I be expected to go with him? The idea of a lavish L.A. club was exciting, but I wasn’t sure my already weak self-control when it came to Jackson could withstand drinks and dancing.
To my very great relief, he directed the driver to take us back to the hotel. “No clubbing tonight?” I asked, and he groaned.
“I’m so tired, I could fall asleep right here.” Then he frowned. “And I have appearances tomorrow night.”
I tried to remember what had been on the schedule Sonja and I had gone over. Something about a night club opening. Traffic was moving much better at this time of night, so we made it back to the hotel much more quickly. Jackson was quiet for most of the ride. He didn’t speak again until we reached our floor. “Did you want to…I don’t know, watch a movie or something?”
The thought of sitting on the couch with him was almost as scary (and tempting) as dancing. I should probably say no, I thought. We’re supposed to be keeping our distance. But I remained silent, somehow not wanting to deny him. He looked so hopeful and…something else. What was that, in his eyes? Loneliness?
But then my body betrayed me and I yawned—a big, open-mouth yawn. Jackson immediately straightened. “I’m so sorry, Sofie. You must be exhausted.” He shook his head, looking angry with himself. “I keep forgetting that you have a newborn at home. You must have been looking forward to the chance to actually get some rest.”
I felt an immediate stab of guilt. I hadn’t thought about Beth in at least an hour. I’d texted Carla a few times during the day, requesting that she send me pictures, but she’d stopped responding around the time we left for the party—bedtime at home. Since then, I’d been too overwhelmed by the glitz and glamour of this lifestyle to give much thought to my sleeping child.
“Are you okay?” he asked, taking a step closer.
I nodded, feeling like the worst mother ever. “Just tired.”
He nodded. “Go get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
For just a moment, I thought he might lean forward for a hug. But he seemed to catch himself and merely gave me another nod before heading into his room. I was surprised by the flash of disappointment that went through me.
I walked down the hallway, guilt battling the sudden disappointment. You need to get yourself together, I thought. You can’t let him turn your head like this. You’re supposed to be doing this for Beth.
***
The next day was equally busy, traveling back and forth between meetings, photo shoots, and screen tests. A good night’s sleep—and not starting the day with a cross-country flight—had me feeling much better than the day before, and I started to think that I might be able to handle this job after all. Sonja handed me the schedule and told me it was up to me to keep us on track—a tougher job than it sounded. Everyone wanted just a little more from Jackson. One last picture. A few more minutes of screen time. A couple of last points to make. It was clear that I was going to have to put my foot down if I had any hope of keeping him on track.
Luckily, being bossy had never been difficult for me.
Jackson seemed in a much better mood, not nearly as tired as the day before. At the photo shoot, I watched while he was made up and positioned on the set, while the lighting director adjusted the lamps overhead to capture his beautiful features. He caught my gaze a few times, rolling his eyes at all the fuss. I rolled my eyes back and he grimaced. I made a face, crossing my eyes and sticking out my tongue. He burst into laughter, and I heard the camera click. “Perfect, Jax,” the photographer shouted. “Another one just like that.”
I wondered what that picture would look like, if I would ever see it. A silly moment between the two of us, captured on film.
After the photo shoot, we all had lunch. Jackson was all smiles, joking around with his security team, as well as Sonja and me. His manager, Erin, had joined us for the day, a willowy redhead wearing the most beautiful pair of Jimmy Choo heels I had ever seen in my life. She kept trying to bring the conversation around to business—apparently, there was some major audition coming up she wanted Jackson to consider—but even she couldn’t break his good mood.
Until it was time to break for the day. Jackson would be having dinner with his producer, followed by the nightclub opening. He would take his security team with him, but the rest of us would have the night off. And he didn’t seem very excited about any of it.
“He gets like this sometimes,” Sonja told me in an undertone in the car. “A little moody when he has to do something he doesn’t want to.”
I nodded. I guessed we could all say that about our jobs.
Back at the hotel, Sonja and I followed Jackson to his room to go over a few schedule items for the following day. “I thought I was supposed to get a night off,” he said, sounding cross, after she brought up a dinner meeting with some director I had never heard of.
Sonja didn’t look the slightest bit abashed. “Erin told me to add it to the schedule.”
He sighed. “Great.”
Just then, there was a knock on the door. “I’ll get it,” I said, eager to get away from the annoyance emanating off of Jackson. I peeked through the view hole to make sure it wasn’t some obsessed fan, and my jaw dropped.
Jackson’s Darkness co-star, Lola Fischer, was standing in the hallway.
“Who is it?” he called from the couch.
“Uh, I think it’s Lola Fischer.”
I hated myself for the spark of jealousy when his face lit up. “Lola’s here? Let her in!”
I opened the door, and the eager smile on Lola’s face seemed to freeze, as if she’d been expecting someone else. Her eyes narrowed. “I know you.”
It took everything in me not to roll my eyes. This woman had spent Christmas with my family. She’d been there when I went into labor. She came to the hospital for God’s sake.
“Sofia Flores,” I told her. “Lizzie’s cousin? We met at Christmas.”
“The one with the baby!” she said, her face brightening. “That was mad, wasn’t it? How are you? What are you doing here?”
“Lola, get in here!” Jackson called, laughing. Lola shot me a confused glance before sweeping past into the room, a trail of Dior perfume following her. Jackson stood, and she practically threw herself into his arms. He laughed, hugging her back, commenting on how good she looked, how great it was to see her.
My mind was running a mental slideshow of all the times I had seen the two of them together in the papers. Lola and Jackson had been working together on the Darkness films since they were teenagers. Ac
cording to the papers, they had an on again, off again relationship, though Lizzie had told me once she thought that was overblown for publicity.
Overblown or not, here she was. Hugging Jackson.
Which is absolutely none of your business.
“What on earth are you doing here?” he asked, finally pulling back, not releasing her arms as he smiled down at her. “I thought you were in New York.”
“I have that benefit,” she said, rolling her eyes. “So Gillian set up a few meetings while I was in town.” She winked. “I thought I would surprise you.”
“I’m glad you did, you old slag.”
I was surprised when Lola swooped down and kissed Sonja on the cheek. I would have thought fraternizing with the employees was beneath her. But Sonja was smiling back up at her fondly. “How’s it going. Sonj? I thought you left this tosser at last.”
Sonja laughed. “I guess I just couldn’t stay away.”
“Tired of married life already? Poor Jasper.”
“He could do with a weekend on his own.” Sonja nodded in my direction. “I’m just helping to train my replacement.”
Lola spun back toward me, her eyebrows as high on her face as her Botox treatments would allow. “Sofie is the new PA?”
She couldn’t have looked more surprised if she found out I had beaten her out of some acting role. She was positively gaping at me, jaw dropped.
“At least for the shoot in Detroit,” Jackson explained, winking at me. “Though I’m trying to convince her that she’d be better off leaving the Midwest behind and moving to a real city to work for me full time.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Watch it, buddy.”
Lola’s expression had changed from shocked to shrewdly appraising, her eyes flicking back and forth between Jackson and me. “Well,” she finally said. “Isn’t that interesting?”
I felt uncomfortable under her gaze. What had she meant by that? But then, she was arranging herself on the chair I had just vacated, her face clear again. “How’s the baby? What was her name? Bess?”
“Beth. She’s good.” I felt an automatic pang at the mention of her name. I missed her.
“I think Sofie is a little homesick,” Jackson said. “This is the first time she’s been away from the baby.”
“Hell,” Lola murmured, studying her long, red fingernails. “I think if I had an infant attached to my side all the time, I’d be eager for a little break.”
Jackson rolled his eyes at me over her head, and I felt a little better. Already Lola had moved onto another topic, grilling Jackson about what he’d done since he’d arrived in town, who he had seen, what he had heard. The two of them started gossiping about people I had never heard of, so I pulled out my phone.
Pix please, I texted Carla.
She responded right away with a close up of Beth’s sleeping face. She’s fine.
I miss her.
She doesn’t even know you’re gone.
I snorted. Thanks a lot.
Just have fun!
I slipped the phone into my pocket in time to hear Jackson mention the dinner. “Oh my God,” Lola cried, clutching his arm. “You have to get me invited.”
He raised his eyebrows. “You want to have dinner with Francis Holsten?”
“Are you kidding me? He’s amazing, Jackson. He can completely change your career.”
Jackson seemed unimpressed. “I’m sure it won’t be a problem if you want to come.”
“Perfect. Thanks, love.”
Awesome. So Jackson would be having dinner with Lola now. And after that, she would probably go to the club opening with him. A nice cozy reunion with an old friend. I realized I was clenching my fists.
“Well,” Sonja said, standing and tucking her folder under her arm. “That’s all I have for you, Jackson. I’m going to go call Jasper, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course, of course,” he said, standing to kiss her cheek. Another stab of jealousy. What was wrong with me? “Give him my best.”
It dawned on me that I should leave, too. Like Sonja, I wasn’t here to socialize. I was here to do a job. And that job was done for the night. I followed her to the door.
“You’re going, too?” he asked, stopping me in my tracks.
I turned back to him. Lola had that appraising look on her face again. “I figured you would want to get ready for dinner.”
He watched me for a long moment, his face blank, before nodding. “Thanks for your help.”
Somehow, his words made me feel even worse. Like I’d been dismissed. “Have a great night.” I told them. “It was nice to see you, Lola.”
Her eyes were glued on Jackson’s face when she responded. “You, too.”
I turned away quickly, not wanting to see her looking at him anymore, not wanting to think about how they would spend their night together. I followed Sonja out into the hallway, leaving Jackson to his old friend.
Chapter Seven
Our last day in Los Angeles wasn’t nearly as busy as the first two. There were more meetings, but Jackson took the time to have lunch with some actor friends of his. We had arranged a session with his L.A.-based personal trainer, so Sonja and I spent an hour at the beach watching him run up and down the sand, pulling on heavy ropes and pushing giant tires around.
I tried very hard not to watch the way his muscles rippled in the sun or the way the sweat was dripping down his neck—but I’m only human.
“How’d I do?” he asked me, grabbing a bottle of water from the cooler Sonja had arranged for.
“You looked great,” I said without thinking. “I mean—you did a great job.”
There was that cocky smile. “I looked great, eh?” He raised the water bottle to his mouth, his eyes never leaving mine, purposefully flexing his biceps.
I snickered. “You are such a show off.”
His expression was amused as he twisted the top of the bottle back on. “It’s not my fault you were drooling over me while I innocently tried to work out.”
I kicked some sand at what I was sure were very expensive sneakers—maybe even from his own line. “You wish.”
The trainer came over to shake his hand, and they made plans to communicate about his training through email while he was in Detroit. “Collins set me up with his trainer there,” he explained. “So I won’t be getting soft on you.”
The trainer laughed. “I wouldn’t expect any less from you.”
We trudged back up the sand toward the car. “I’m not looking forward to tonight,” Jackson said, his voice soft enough to be almost unintelligible over the waves behind us.
“Why not? It’s just dinner, right? Then you have the rest of the night.”
“Erin has been trying to set this dinner up for ages. She wants me to audition for his movie.”
“And that’s a bad thing?”
He sighed, adjusting his sunglasses. “It’s a trilogy. It’s called Desert Sun. A fantasy-action type deal. They’re shooting the films concurrently. In Australia.”
I sighed wistfully. “Ooh, I’ve always wanted to go there.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t want to move there.”
“You would have to move?”
“The shooting schedule for all three films is six months long.”
“Holy crap.”
“Half a year. Half a year of my life. Which isn’t even including the preparation I would have to do, the training and the preproduction.” Suddenly, he looked much more tired than he had while working out. “All to make a set of films that’s nearly identical to the Darkness franchise.”
“That doesn’t sound very appealing to you?”
“Not in the slightest.”
I frowned over at him—he looked incredibly frustrated. “So say no.”
His laugh was bitter. “You make that sound so simple.”
Before I could ask what made it not simple, we reached the car. As we settled into our seats, Sonja started to brief me on Jackson’s training schedule in Detroit, which I w
ould be responsible for overseeing. “It can get tricky, because the production crew will want to make sure his training doesn’t interfere with any of his physical shots or stunts. Then there are the shirtless scenes to consider.”
“The shirtless scenes?” My eyes jumped to Jackson, who looked amused by my reaction.
“They like the shirtless scenes to come after my training sessions. So that I’m all ripped and shit.” He grinned. “The girls like it better.”
“So you’ll have to talk to the DP—that’s director of photography—to make sure you’re scheduling his sessions the way they want.”
“Got it,” I said, even though my brain was spinning. I couldn’t imagine scheduling every little aspect of my life this way. Before I could say anything else, my phone beeped. I pulled it from my purse to see a message from Carla. I barked out a laugh.
“What?” Jackson asked.
I held up the phone so he could see. “Look at this child!” The picture Carla had taken was Beth, of course, her face puckered up in a questioning frown. She looked almost exactly like our grandfather. “Doesn’t she look like a little old man?”
“Poor thing,” he tsked, smiling. “She’s lovely.”
I snorted. “Not in this picture.”
I scrolled through the photos on my phone until I found the one Carla had sent last night before putting Beth down. “This one, though. This one is the definition of lovely.”
Jackson’s face was soft as he looked down at the screen. “She really is. When did you take that?”
“Carla took it last night. She’s been sending me pictures since I left.”
He plucked the phone from my hand before I could react and started scrolling. “Dear Lord,” he murmured, chuckling. “These are all of her.”
“So?”
“So, there must be two hundred photos on this phone!”
I shrugged before reaching for it. “What can I say? I love my kid.”
His laughter cut off as his eyes scanned my face. “I know you do.”
I turned to look out the window, the intensity of his gaze making me feel slightly off balance.
“Carla said she would FaceTime with me tonight,” I said. “I hope Beth stays up late enough for me to see her with her eyes open.”
Starstruck (Lovestruck Book 4) Page 8
