The Redhead Plays Her Hand

fourteen

LateNightRecap.com

Grace Sheridan was the toast of late-night this week, with appearances on Jay Leno, David Letterman, and Jimmy Fallon. While all three hosts tried to get her to comment on the status of her relationship with alleged boyfriend Jack Hamilton, Grace deftly kept the conversation focused on her career and her new show, Mable Unstable?, set to premiere in just two days. But the other hot topic that has dogged her lately, her weight, was not off-limits at all. In fact, Grace spoke candidly to Jimmy Fallon when he asked about her weight and what being asked to lose weight for this role had done to her:

“Well, Jimmy. Can I call you Jimmy?”

“It is my name.”

“Can I just tell you—before we talk about my giant ass—how big of a crush I have on you? Seriously, big crush, Jimmy.”

“Well. Now I’m blushing.”

“Then this would be a good time to talk about my giant ass, right? Since you’re already blushing?”

“It seems like a good time. But really, how in the world did this story get started? And I gotta tell you, for all the fellas in the audience, I’m just gonna say, it’s not giant, but you do have one sweet ass.”

(Audience applauding)

“Thanks, boys! I guess it started when I was cast in Mable Unstable? I’m new to this industry. Let’s not pretend, okay? And I know it’s just part of it, losing weight or gaining weight for a role. Makes sense, right? But then my body figured out it was exactly where it was supposed to be! And I realized I was not willing to risk my health, especially when in the real world outside of Hollywood, no one would ever call me fat! So this is me, curves and all.”

“Thank God for curves. That’s all I can say.”

“Aw, thanks, Jimmy.”

“And now I’m blushing again . . .”

Grace told similar stories on Late Show and The Tonight Show, responding to her critics with an honest assessment of her body and choice words about what Hollywood expects from women. Looks like Grace Sheridan isn’t playing . . .

CelebTracker.com

Grace Sheridan continues to dominate the headlines this week as she’s crossed the country twice to promote her new show premiering tomorrow on Venue. Appearing with the ladies on The View, she took on her critics once more, answering questions about the pictures that have surfaced of her prior to her return to acting, when she was substantially heavier.

“That was me. Would I have preferred that those pictures of me when I was not in a great place in my life never surfaced? Of course. But I have to own that part of my life too. I was out of control, unhappy, and feeling buried by a situation that was my own creation. I struggled with my weight the way so many women in this country do, and I still struggle with it. But for me, being healthy was a choice I made for myself, to be strong and to be aware of the decisions I made on a daily basis, so I could be the kind of person I wanted to be.”

When asked about whether she is dating Jack Hamilton, Sheridan once again dodged the question, stating only, “He’s pretty cute, isn’t he?”

TMZ

A private screening for Mabel’s Unstable? was arranged tonight at Sam’s, a restaurant in Hollywood, with the entire cast in attendance, including Grace Sheridan and Jack Hamilton. For a couple who isn’t dating, they sure show up at the same place an awful lot, don’t they? They arrived separately. Grace showed up with her manager, Holly Newman, and the creator of the new show, Michael O’Connell. Jack arrived much later with bad boy Adam Kasen in tow. Adam stopped outside to sign autographs for a few minutes, rolling his eyes when asked about whether he was causing friction between Jack and Grace. “Are they dating?” he asked the crowd, then smirked and disappeared inside.

I settled back in my chair, tummy fluttering in anticipation. All night I had moved from table to table, cluster to cluster of people, chatting, talking—I suppose you could even say schmoozing. The cast and crew, their families and friends and plus ones, everyone was here to watch the first episode of Mabel’s Unstable? and get their first glimpse at the new show. Michael and I worked the room together for a bit, explaining how we’d known each other since college and talking about the development of the characters as they took life in New York last year. He was so very proud, and he even strutted a bit as the early praise was heaped on about the world he’d created. Holly worked the room as well, all business hidden behind a perfect smile.

I’d watched as Michael’s eyes sought hers across the crowd, her wink making him stutter a bit while he talked to a film producer who had bankrolled most of the movies made in the nineties and now looking for a new project to sink his dough into. I’d left Michael’s side to grab a quick drink and take another look for the Brit.

He was late. And not just a little late. We’d lost touch around lunchtime. He’d had a meeting, and I was occupied with radio interviews all day. We’d agreed to arrive separately, but now that I was sitting in my seat, the show, my show, about to start, I wanted him there. I was nervous, more nervous than I ever thought I’d be, and I needed his hand to hold. In the dark, I could hold his hand and not worry about cameras or roving eyes or gossiping mouths. I could watch myself on-screen, and even though I’d flinch and blush as I watched, my hand would be in his, and I’d enjoy the moment.

But now, with the lights flashing to let everyone know to take their seats, he was still not here. Holly and Michael slid into their seats, leaving the space next to me open. Holly raised her eyebrows in question, and I shrugged. I checked my phone again, still nothing. David Lancaster stood up to make a quick speech, thanking everyone for coming, and then with light applause, the lights went out. As the opening credits began to roll, I closed my eyes and took a breath. As I exhaled, I felt someone slide into the seat next to me, and I opened my eyes. Jack.

Jack. Smelling like alcohol and slouching down into his chair. Grabbing at my hand he leaned in and whispered “Sorry I’m late, Crazy. Traffic was hell. We got stuck on the 405.”

“Who is we?” I whispered back as his whiskey breath fanned over me. A few seats down I could see Holly staring over, and I waved her away.

“Adam. He wanted to come along and support my girl. He still feels really bad about everything.”

“He feels bad? I can’t believe—”

“Shh, let’s talk about it later. It’s starting.”

He clutched my hand close as images began to appear on the screen. Suddenly there I was, thirty feet tall with a potted plant. People began to cheer all around me.

“Well, look at you.” He grinned, and just like that, I forgot all about Adam. Having never worked in television before, I’d never been a part of taping something you wouldn’t see for weeks and weeks, and then you still never know what you’ll end up with. Sure, I’d seen the dailies. But you never know which cut they’ll use, how they’ll edit it together, and how much music can shape a scene. And now, watching the finished project, I was in awe of the work that had gone into it. I was nervous, sure, but I enjoyed the shit out of it. I laughed. I hid my face in Jack’s shoulder during the sex scene. I rolled my eyes every time I saw myself carrying a book . . . but I was proud.

There was a moment, sitting there in the dark and watching myself on-screen, where I realized I had come full circle. I had truly changed my life, fulfilled a dream I’d had since as early as I could remember, and I was now making a living as an actress. I was getting paid to sing and act and pretend to be someone else, and it was something I don’t think I will ever be able to adequately describe. I’d sat in a theater similar to this one not very long ago, watching actors onstage and sobbing because I was no longer a part of that world. And here I was, inside a moment with a dramatically different outcome.

A tear trickled down my cheek at the closing credits, and I was so full of happiness I could burst. As the lights came up, Jack beamed at me as he stood. All around, people stood and applauded as I smiled. I clapped my hands off when Michael was pushed forward for his standing ovation and watched as Holly planted a big, giant, sloppy kiss on his mouth in front of everyone. As the crowd began to disperse, I looked at Jack, who was watching Michael and Holly.

His eyes met mine, and they were a bit sad. They were also bloodshot. I saw Adam coming down the aisle toward us, and I turned back to Jack.

“Why were you late, Jack?”

“I told you, traffic,” he said, eyes now on the floor.

Adam made his way over, slapping Jack on the back and grinning at me. “Grace! Show was great. I really enjoyed what you did up there,” he exclaimed, turning toward the crowd and nodding a little. As I watched, he positioned himself between Jack and me just as a woman with a camera phone snapped a shot: Adam smiling, Jack sullen, and me ready to spit nails.

“Can I talk to you, please?” I pulled on Jack’s sleeves as soon as I knew the camera was put away.

“Oooh, here we go.” Adam laughed, holding up his hands in mock surrender as I led Jack to a quiet corner.

“What the hell, Jack? I can’t believe you brought him here. What were you thinking?”

“I’m sorry. I was trying to get away, and he insisted on coming. He wanted to be here. I told you he feels really bad about the way things have been with you two and—”

“He should feel bad, but that’s not why—”

“When I realized how late it had gotten, it was just easier to bring him along. Christ, I didn’t mean to be so late, but if he didn’t come with me, then I—”

“You would bring him here, knowing how much tonight meant to me? How—”

“—would have been even more late and . . . wait a minute, this is ridiculous.” He finally stopped. We’d been talking over each other. “Say what you want to say, Grace.”

“I already said it. I can’t believe you brought him here.” I crossed my arms and stared hard at him. He was a mess. Torn T-shirt under a dirty blazer, jeans that were always a bit tattered but now looked positively uninhabitable. Taking a closer look, his eyes were bloodshot, but they were wild too—spacey and not at all Jack. He ran his hand over his shorn hair, and I could see he knew I had noticed the change. As he looked anywhere but at me, I saw him catch sight of someone.

“Oh, bloody hell. Here it comes.”

Holly barreled over, standing next to us and effectively blocking us from the rest of the crowd. “Guys, what’s going on? And what the hell, Jack? You get jumped on your way over here?” She fixed the collar on his blazer. Wrong move.

“Jesus, enough!” he snapped, jerking away from her hands.

“Whoa, what’s the problem?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

“How much time do you have?” he muttered, eyes scanning the crowd. Nodding to someone, he took my hand and squeezed it. “Come on, Crazy. Let’s go get a drink.”

He started to pull me after him when Holly placed her hand on ours. We looked like a football team in a huddle deciding on a play.

“No hand-holding,” she instructed, her voice all business.

“Oh, fucking give it a rest, why don’t you?” Jack growled, continuing to tug on my hand.

I saw Adam near the bar, watching the entire thing, and I dug in my designer heels. “Jack, I don’t think—”

“You’re not actually going to listen to her, are you?” he asked quietly.

I could see some of the crowd had begun to take an interest in our corner. Camera phones. The last thing I needed at my premiere was a scene.

Like the one you almost caused at his premiere?

Ouch.

But still, coming late, coming drunk, bringing Adam? Who was currently smirking at me from across the room. I looked at Jack again, his eyes were fuzzy.

“Come on, Jack. Let’s go get some coffee.” I squeezed his hand but let go of it before Holly could say anything else. When the hell had I become the adult in this relationship? I waved over a waiter and as Jack fumed next to me, I asked for black coffee.

Holly started to say something else, but I shook my head at her. With a warning glance in his direction, she turned back into the crowd, distracting the camera phones by asking loudly if she had really just seen Zac Efron by the bar.

I put a cup of coffee in Jack’s hand. He ignored it.

“Jack, what’s going on?” I asked quietly. He sighed.

“Nothing, Crazy. Everything’s fine,” he answered as a few members of the cast came over to say hello.

The conversation that needed to happen would have to wait, so I introduced Jack and put on my game face. Our eyes met, and he winked.

Winking wasn’t enough this time.

Hours later I was back at home, tired and confused. As I changed and got ready for bed, I thought back over the evening. Since we’d arrived separately, we also left separately, Jack had Bryan come to pick him up after I left so we weren’t photographed together. Tonight had been a huge night for me professionally, and I was pleased, but I was at a loss as to what I needed to do with Jack. I had alarm bells going off everywhere, but for goodness sake, what was I supposed to do about it? He was young; he was rich; he could do whatever he wanted whenever the mood struck.

But that wasn’t Jack—at least not the Jack I knew. And I’d like to think he was a strong enough person that he wouldn’t let someone like Adam influence him so completely to have changed overnight. No, this behavior was only partly Adam. The rest was Jack.

And Jack had hurt me tonight. Coming late, clearly under the influence, and bringing Adam? I was pissed. Concerned, but also pissed. I knew we weren’t a couple who would embrace in front of a crowd—no public groping—but I still very much wanted him there by my side tonight. I’d been nervous, and I wanted his support.

Were you supportive on his big night?

No, no, I was a total asshole. But do two idiots make a right?

As I was thinking, I heard the front door open and close. Slipping into my white polo, I pushed my hair back with a headband and washed my face. As I applied my moisturizer, I noticed that the lines around my eyes looked a bit more pronounced that normal tonight. It’s amazing how fast a few drinks dehydrated my skin. After adding a bit of extra eye cream, I was brushing my teeth when Jack finally made an appearance in the mirror behind me. I nodded to him, then spit.

Pressing a quick kiss into the space between my neck and shoulder, he started for the bedroom, taking off his clothes as he went. I sighed, knowing his silence meant he didn’t want to talk about it.

I stood in the doorway to the bedroom, our bedroom, and watched him as he shuffled out of his T-shirt and jeans, tossing them into the hamper. I watched as he went about the business of getting ready for bed, plugging in his phone, sipping on the glass of water I had already placed on his nightstand, walking without his normal grace but with the gait of a much older and tired man.

He was exhausted, that much was obvious. As well he should be—the partying was beginning to take its toll. But he still was stunning. Long and lean, still tanned from working in the desert, he was beautiful. He stood with his back to me, stretching his arms over his head and running his hands through his hair, which was just beginning to grow out again.

“You going to say something or are you just going to ogle me?” He smirked, looking over his shoulder at me, his eyes going a much darker shade of green. The body might be tired, but there was no doubt this man was still very much only twenty-four.

“What do you want me to say?” I asked, wisely staying in the doorway. I knew us, and if I got too close, the only talking tonight would be of the dirty variety.

“You’re pissed again?”

“Pissed, yes, but I’m hurt, Jack,” I replied, getting a roll of his eyes in return.

The lust that had come up in his face was quickly replaced by irritation.

“Because I brought Adam?”

“If you have to ask that question, then—”

“Listen, okay? He really felt bad about the last few times he’s been around. He knew how important tonight was, I’ve been going on and on about how proud I am of you. He wanted to come along and show his support. How is that such a bad thing? Bloody hell, Grace, the guy can’t win with you!”

He walked past me and into the bathroom. As he splashed water on his face, I counted to ten. I didn’t want this to escalate further, but now I was getting more than pissed, I was getting mad.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“What?” he asked from under the towel.

“You don’t get to be pissed at me, okay?”

“I’m sorry I was late, I really am. I can’t believe you’re getting so upset about this.” He turned off the water and looked at me in the mirror.

Pie-eyed, I stared back, incredulous that he still didn’t get it. “This was my night. The only one here that gets to be pissed is me!”

“Oh, that’s rich. You complaining about a big night getting ruined? What about the fucking meltdown you had on me last year?” he yelled, turning and throwing his towel into the corner.

“Jack! Look, we can all agree I was a jerk that night, but it’s like you went out of your way to be an ass tonight!”

Eyes blazing, we stared each other down. Tension radiated off him in waves. Every muscle was drawn tight and ready to snap. He looked as though he was going to say something else, but then a shadow passed over his face. Resigned, he moved past me into the bedroom.

“Grace, look, I’m tired. I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I’m going to bed.” He yanked the sheets down and got in. Shutting down and getting in.

“Wait. Wait a minute. We’re not done talking about this,” I insisted, following him and tugging on the covers.

He tugged them out of my hands and pulled them up, slumping down against the pillows. He rubbed his eyes, his hands dragging down across his face. “Christ, does everything have to be such a big fucking deal? I’m sorry I was late. I’m sorry I brought Adam. It will never happen again. Now I’m going to bed.” He sighed and turned off the light.

I stood there for a moment in the dark.

“Not kidding, Grace. I’m done talking about this.” His voice floated across to me.

Shaking, I walked away.

I grabbed a bottle of red wine and a glass, then headed out to the back porch and curled into the love seat. I filled the glass almost to the rim, covered up with a throw, and let the tears flow.

What was happening?

I sat in the quiet, looking up at the stars for at least an hour. Even though my mind was whirling, I felt almost numb. Things were so very off right now between us. I didn’t even know where to turn, what to think, whether to be upset or just concerned. Was I blowing this up out of proportion? There was no primer for this, no checklist of knowing when your celebrity boyfriend was going off the rails or just being a normal twenty-four-year-old guy.

A normal twenty-four-year-old guy who was chased by paparazzi on a regular basis and screamed at by adoring fans whenever he went out in public. A guy who couldn’t get ice cream with his girlfriend without it showing up on Twitter, and a guy who couldn’t have a bad night without TMZ questioning whether he was in the middle of a breakdown.

I sighed.

“I hate when you sigh,” a voice said from the porch. I looked over and could make out his silhouette, leaning in the doorway.

I smiled into the darkness. “It’s just deep breathing, really.”

He crossed the patio to sit next to me, taking my glass of wine and draining the rest. “I hate when I make you sigh. How about that?”

“Good thing you weren’t here when I was crying then,” I responded softly.

Now he was the one sighing. He moved his hands under the blanket, pulling my feet into his lap and kneading at my toes, rubbing my skin. I leaned down and flung the other half over him. He was in his skivvies after all, and it was chilly. With his hands anchoring me, I stretched out a bit, leaning back into the pillows and watching him thoughtfully.

“Can I apologize for real now?” he asked, looking at me.

I had my Jack back. I nodded.

“I’m so sorry for being an ass tonight. You were right to be pissed. And may I tell you again, for the record, you were amazing.”

“Thanks.”

“Seriously, Grace, I’m so proud of you. You killed it. It’s gonna be a huge success.”

“Well, we’ll see about that. Right now I’m not so worried about whether my show does well. I’m a little more focused on how well a certain Brit is doing.” I shifted a bit toward him to sweep my hand across his brow. He squeezed my foot.

“See, that’s the exact opposite of the thing I want you to be focused on right now. You should be enjoying this, focusing on you and everything you have going right now. Don’t worry about a prat like me. I’m fine.” He pulled me across the love seat and into his lap.

“I wish I could believe you, George.” I breathed into his neck as he clutched me close.

“I wish you could too,” he answered, lifting me and carrying me into the house.

He pressed countless kisses into my skin, shifting me in his arms so I could wrap my legs around his waist as he walked, feeling his strong body underneath and all around me. In between the thousand kisses, his lips told me how beautiful I looked tonight, how lovely, how he couldn’t believe I was his, how he didn’t deserve me. I tried to argue with him, but each time I tried to speak he planted another searing kiss on me, stopping my thoughts right in their track and funneling them into an entirely different thought process—one where we existed alone, just mouths and lips and arms and legs and tongues and all the time in the world.

His arms were tight around me, hands roaming, then settling on my bottom, pushing me where he wanted me most. I chuckled in spite of myself and didn’t let go of him when he placed me on the bed, my legs bringing him down to me.

“Something funny?” he asked, his fingers hurrying to unbutton my shirt. I answered with my mouth to his, kissing him deeply and letting my body tell him how much I needed him, wanted him, loved him.

“You’re the beautiful one, Jack.” I sighed, this time in a very different way than before. He stretched above me, all long limbs and bronzed skin. His eyes flashed green, even through the darkness. His fingers blazed a trail toward where my panties would be, if I were wearing any . . .

Finding me bare beneath brought forth a deep groan from him, and he ripped the last of my buttons through the buttonholes as he grew impatient.

“Dammit, you tore my shirt.”

“I’ll buy you another.” He grinned as my feet alone managed to push his boxers down and entirely off his legs. “Impressive.”

“You got that right,” I managed as he nudged against me with the part of him that never failed to intoxicate. Seconds later, he was inside.

“Christ, that feels good,” he breathed into my ear, then leaned back to rise up on his knees, digging his hands deep into my hips. I arched my back, throwing my head into the pillow, arms opened wide. He slowed his thrusts, tilting my hips up higher as he circled his own. Now he let one hand creep higher on my body, fingers teasing at my nipples, then pressing into my mouth as I kissed his hand.

“So beautiful,” he whispered as his hand now drifted lower, sweeping across my abdomen, dipping into my belly button, fluttering below. Kissing his own fingers, he returned them to me, where we were joined, where he now pushed into me agonizingly slowly. My entire body was taut, my hands tangled in my hair as he pressed into me. His fingers sought me, where I needed him, circling and twirling, rubbing slick and hot. I panted, bowing off the bed as he touched me, bringing me closer to the edge.

“Love to watch you come. Love to watch you come apart for me, for me,” he whispered as I writhed before him. He seated himself fully inside again, now speeding up his thrusts. “God, you should see yourself.” He groaned as I brought one of my hands down to tangle with his, guiding him as he rode me harder.

Tiny specks of light began to dance at the corners of my vision, and my body contracted, pulling him deeper, so deep into me as he held me open wide. I chanted his name over and over again as my orgasm raced through me.

“Mmm . . . that’s my girl.” He moaned, his eyes closing as I burst around him. He fell forward onto me, sweat slippery between us as he shook in my arms. “Love you, love you so much, Grace. I’m so sorry.” He murmured into my neck, his arms now tight as a band around me as he exploded. I scratched at his scalp and soothed him, hugging my legs around his back and keeping him inside as long as I could.

“I know, Jack. I know,” I whispered, kissing everywhere I could reach. Slipping out of me with a loss I desperately felt, he turned me onto my side so he could wrap his arms around me, tucking me into him, back to front, with his hands full of me.

I realized as he slipped toward sleep that we had avoided once again discussing what had happened tonight, and that at some point we were going to take this to the woodshed. But it wasn’t tonight.