The Redhead Plays Her Hand

two

So tonight, I’m heading to this club and I thought—” he said the following morning.

At least I think that’s what he said. I was under the shower spray, and someone had his hands all over my breasts. Keeping me steady, of course, just for balance.

“You’re going out again tonight?” I spluttered.

“Again? I was home last night,” he answered, leaning underneath his own showerhead. The shower he had installed boasted his and hers nozzles. Although more often than not we ended up on one side or the other.

“True, but you were out almost every night last week.”

“Is this where you turn into a nagging girlfriend?” He winked, letting the water stream off his face and down onto his chest and tummy, making the happy trail stand out even more. It sure made me happy.

“I think so. Hang on, let me put on my nag face,” I said sternly, frowning in an exaggerated way. “Honey, don’t you think you should stay home and clean out the gutters?” I whined, putting my hands on my hips and stomping my foot. An action that would have been more forceful had I not slipped as I did it. He caught me, laughing as I struggled to stay upright. He gave me a light smack on the bottom as he put me back on my feet.

“As it happens, I was going to ask if you wanted to come out with me tonight.”

“Me? Go out with the boys club? Seriously?” I teased, handing him a washcloth.

Jack had been spending more and more time with some of the guys from his new film, something I initially encouraged him to do. For all the lip service he gave me about loving The Golden Girls, I reminded him often that he was a young guy about town and needed to live it up. Lately he had taken me up on my offer, almost too willingly at times.

“Sure, why not? I figured it was about time you met these guys. These are the guys I’m supposed to be willing to die for, right?”

“In a movie, love. Die for them in a movie. Will there be dancing?” I asked.

“I imagine so.”

“Will you be dancing?”

“I’m British. We don’t dance.”

“Can I dance?”

“I’m counting on it. Jesus, Grace, you should see yourself right now.” He sighed. I was leaning back under the spray, and was I making sure my breasts were pushed up high and perky? Yep.

Nice. Posing for your man?

Can’t hurt.

I felt his mouth beginning to drag down the side of my neck, and I came up for air.

“Hey, we can’t do this now, Sweet Nuts. I’m meeting Holly in forty-five minutes, and she gets testy when I’m late.”

“I only need five minutes; just hold still, Crazy.”

I laughed as he slid his body up mine, every nerve ending sparking to life. But water and sparks don’t play well together, and I held him at arm’s length.

“Seriously, I can’t. Holly won’t let me use sex with you as an excuse to be late.”

“How do you know? Try it.”

“Shush, you. Shower gel, please,” I instructed, pointing. He handed it to me, we lathered, and I tried to go about the business of washing up. Which was hard.

Because so was he . . .

Because so was he.

Twenty minutes later, he sat on the bench at the end of the bed while I got ready.

“So tonight? Yes?” he asked, handing me my bra. Which he held with reverence. I think he was jealous that it got to hold my boobies all day, something he would prefer to do.

“Yes, tonight. Can I bring Holly? She’s been dying to go out dancing. We can make a night of it!” I said excitedly, standing in front of him and running my hands over his scruff. It was taking some getting used to, but I was kind of digging it. He looked older and younger all at the same time. It was mesmerizing.

“Bring everyone you want, love. Just text me the names, and I’ll tell Adam.”

“Adam?”

“Adam Kasen, from the film? He’ll make sure whoever we want is on the list,” he replied, nuzzling into my palm.

“‘On the list’? You going Hollywood on me, George?”

“This from the girl taking a meeting today to discuss her shooting schedule for her new TV series, right?”

“Wow, my new TV series. Can you say that again?”

“‘My new TV series’?”

“Nope, my new TV series.”

“That’s what I said, exactly.” He grinned as I threw my towel at him. He growled as I danced away from his grabbing hands.

“You better go to your meeting, you little tease, before I keep you here all day.”

“Okay, I’ll see you later tonight then?”

“Yep, I’ll be the one in the corner with the posse behind the velvet rope.” He nodded, laying back on the bed, the sheets still tussled from our previous activities.

“Perfect. This pussy loves a posse,” I teased as he rolled his eyes at me.

“You have five seconds to get out of here, Grace.”

“Leaving,” I yelled as I headed toward the kitchen, grabbing my water bottle off the counter.

“Hey, Crazy?” I heard his feet slapping behind me on the hardwood.

“Yes?” I smiled as he stuck his head around the corner.

“I saw a couple cars that looked really familiar yesterday down the hill. Watch yourself out there, okay?” He smiled, his eyes burning into mine.

“No pics. Got it.” I mock saluted.

“Don’t let them make us into the next Ashton and Demi. People love to see a couple fall apart.”

“Did you really just compare me to Demi?”

“Sorry. I guess you’re a little older, right?” he teased, tugging on my ponytail as I slid a ball cap on.

I used to tease him so much about wearing his ball cap, and now I hardly went anywhere without one, especially when driving in my neighborhood. I was fanatical about making sure no one knew where we lived. I knew it couldn’t last much longer, but I wanted to keep our bubble around us as long as possible.

“Seriously, George? How often do these little jabs work out in your favor in the long run?” I glared, letting him smooth out my ponytail.

“Just be careful out there, ’kay?” he said, his eyes concerned.

“I will, love. See you later.” I nodded, blowing him a kiss.

“I got something for you to blow . . .” I heard him muttering as he headed back into the bedroom.

I giggled, grabbing my keys and heading out into the sunshine.

Even in winter, Los Angeles was golden. I smiled to myself as I crossed to my car, pausing a moment to take in the lemon trees, the thick carpet of pine needles on the lawn, the beige Taurus driving not too slow but not too fast either— Wait, what? I hurried behind the steering wheel, getting in just as it drove past the large pine at the edge of the property. Most of the houses on this part of Laurel were set back from the road but not too far.

Paranoid much?

Paparazzi were almost a daily concern. Running into them was no longer an occasional surprise, it was borderline becoming a nuisance. Jack’s new car had been spotted multiple times, although somehow we’d been able to avoid being tracked back to the house. But it was getting dicey. Once, when he was being followed very closely on Robertson, a car in front of him stopped so quickly he almost ran right into it. Shots were taken of him looking grimly over the steering wheel, ball cap pulled down low. This was beginning to take its toll on Jack. It was a side of his fame that no one could prepare for.

I’d managed to avoid getting my picture taken with him again, although we both knew it would happen sooner or later. But that was part of it, being the girlfriend of the new It Boy.

Girlfriend.

I was his girlfriend, and along with that came all kinds of stuff we were both barely equipped to handle. When we came back from our vacation in the Seychelles in January, I had to stay behind with the luggage when we landed at LAX. The paparazzi who camped at the airport just waiting for celebrities to come off an airplane tired and bedraggled and less than were there to trail Jack. Someone, always someone, had tipped them off that he would be arriving, and they swarmed as soon as he showed up. And they took tons of pictures. He later told me he could barely keep hold of his duffel bag, they were so close and so tight on him as he made his way to the car we’d arranged to pick us up. In the meantime, I was waiting by the baggage carousel, watching and waiting. And paying a porter to help me quietly schlep all our stuff into a taxi.

Since we’d been back we kept a pretty low profile. We didn’t run a ton of errands together, and if we did go out, we kept it off the beaten path and low-key. We lived together, we loved together, but we kept things as private as we could. Holly was still very much in favor of this tactic. Since Time, his female fan base had grown considerably, and there was an online presence that continued to grow.

This was a fan base still very much on the fence about whether they wanted their Jack Hamilton involved with anyone, much less a woman quite a bit older than he was. After the pictures of me taken at the premiere came out, and subsequently died down, his adoring fans had moved on from me. But I was about to embark on my own high-profile job. The TV series would bring those pictures, and more like them, back up and into the spotlight.

I kept this in mind as I opted to keep the convertible top up. I cinched the ball cap down tighter on my head and turned out onto the canyon to make my way to Holly’s office. With my eyes peeled, I looked for those seemingly random tan sedans. That’s where the flashbulbs tended to come from. It was amazing how quickly you could get used to looking behind you when you were moving forward.