Game On (22 page)

“It's just … I've never …,” she said. “With anyone and … it's such a big deal, and I want it to be special and …”

Nicole needed to throw her a lifeline. Quick.

“Do you love him?” Nicole asked.

Maya didn't want to just throw out a reply. She wanted to really think about the question. But she already knew the answer.

“Yeah,” she said. Then she smiled hearing herself say it. “Yeah, I do.”

Nicole smiled, too. “Does he feel the same way about you?”

“I think so,” Maya responded. “I think he does.”

“So what's stopping you?” Nicole asked.

What is stopping me?
Maya thought. Nothing. Nothing at all. She did love him. And he would be good to her. Take care of her. He wasn't the Jake she'd always assumed he was. The Jake who he might have even used to be. He wasn't just with
her for sex. He hadn't pressured her this whole time. He waited for her to come to him, to be comfortable.

Maya looked at Nicole. It was a look that said one thing, and it was unmistakable. She was ready. She was ready to go all the way with Jake. The idea didn't freak her out.

This was happening.

As the plane made its descent into Los Angeles, Maya gazed out of her window in disbelief. How could any city be this big? How could that many swimming pools exist in one place? And how close could you fly to a freeway without actually scraping the roofs off cars?

Maya had her hands full. Or hand. Jake was right by her side, and he was holding on tight. He said it was because he missed her so much, but his sweaty palm betrayed his vicious fear of flying. She loved that he needed her support, and she was more than happy to give it. Because that's all he'd been giving her for weeks. And this weekend she was going to show him how much that meant to her.

Of course, she'd have to tell him first. And she hadn't quite gotten around to that. Having sex for the first time wasn't exactly airport-security conversation, or liftoff conversation, or something to chat up over the safety demonstration. It was
also, apparently, not baggage-claim conversation, or waiting-for-the-town-car conversation. But as they drove up La Cienega Boulevard en route to their hotel, time was running out. Maya had to drop Jake off and run a few errands. Tonight was the night, and it was probably something he'd want to be in on.

“You look amazing,” Jake said. “I know I said it before, but … just look at you.” It was true. Maya had ditched the Kabuki makeup and replaced it with a newfound confidence. And she wore it well. She was also in the shape of her life, having been on that practice court 24-7. She was a new girl, again. But this one, she liked.

“You just missed me, that's all,” Maya said as she tugged on his T-shirt. It was white with a giant bar code. If he was for sale, she was buying.

“Can't argue with that,” he said, pulling her in for a kiss. “But something else is on your mind. It's been on your mind the entire flight out here.”

Maya stared at him. She could never get over how in her brain he was. It was sexy and scary at the same time.

“You're still thinking about Cleo and Renee,” he said. “They'll come around—I have faith.”

Okay, maybe he wasn't 100 percent in her mind.

“No, that's not it,” he said, correcting himself. “It's about me.” What was he, a witch? “Are you having second thoughts about me? Did you not want me here?” When her face shifted, he started to panic. “That's it, isn't it?”

“No,” she said.

“It is, your face totally changed.” Now she really had no choice. It was either tell him or watch him completely implode.

“Okay, I'll tell you,” she said. “It is about you. And it is about coming to LA. But it's not what you think. Being away from each other, I … It made me think about stuff and …” All she could do was just say it. “I'm ready.”

“Ready for what?” When she didn't answer, he began to clue in. “Ready. Ready? Like …
ready
ready?”

“Like tonight ready,” she said.

As they pulled up to the hotel, he was speechless. After the driver put the car in park, Jake threw open the car door, hopped out, and reached his hand back to help her out, too.

“Why wait?” he said. And he was dead serious.

“Jake!” Maya laughed, embarrassed. “You know I have errands to run first.”

“I'll be quick,” he said, smiling. He really was awful.

“I've got to go,” she said. “I'll meet you at your room later?”

“Fine,” he said, grabbing their bags. “See you tonight.”

His words shot up her spine. He closed the door, then banged the roof for the car to drive on.

As she was driven away, she looked back to see him wave. Then he scurried inside. Even though he had all the experience in the world, he might've been just as nervous as she was. And she liked it.

In LA traffic, it took an hour to travel what would have taken twenty minutes anywhere else. Maya didn't mind. It gave her plenty of time to gawk at the sights, and, even more important, the Academy was paying for the ride.

Maya's first stop was the movie director's office. She had
to pick up something called “sides” for her audition tomorrow. She didn't know what the role actually was, but she hoped she got the guy in the end.

Gaining entry to the studio lot where the director's office was located was almost as hard as clearing security at the Academy, but once inside, it was worth every minute. Every minute of the wait, every minute of the plane ride there, and every minute on the practice court the last few weeks on top of that. She'd never seen anything like it.

As she strolled the backlot, she went from being outside the hospital of her favorite medical show (the one where they're saving lives one minute and hooking up in the supply closet the next) to ambling down the faux streets of New York, all in the blink of an eye. She turned a corner and—boom—she was face-to-face with a masked killer who had a machete in one hand and a large coffee in the other.

“Excuse me,” the killer said. But instead of a burly guy behind the mask, the killer was an Australian woman. It was official: nothing in Hollywood was as it appeared.

Finally, Maya reached the director's office. She made her way inside, where she found the director's development executive (whatever that was) hard at work in his office. With his hair slicked forward and his hipster bow tie, he couldn't have been much older than she was. He was the entertainment equivalent of Maya—young, gifted, ready to break out.

“Hi, I'm Maya Hart,” she said. “I'm supposed to pick up ‘sides'?”

“You're a hooker?” the executive asked.

“I'm a … what?” Maya was taken aback.

“You're reading for the part of the hooker?” He started thumbing through pages.

“No, I'm reading for the tennis player,” she said. “I'm from the Academy?” As he switched piles of papers to look through, she couldn't help but wonder what, exactly, screamed “hooker” about her.

“Here you go,” he said, handing her a single sheet of paper.

“What's this?” she asked.

“Your lines,” he said.

She looked it over.
Lines
was a technicality. There were three lines, but it was one sentence. How was she supposed to get the guy with one sentence?

“This is all I'm supposed to say?” Maya flipped the paper over in case she missed any more on the back. “How many lines does the hooker have?”

“Eighty,” he said. “If we wanted a real actress for the tennis player, we'd have gone through a talent agent.”

Well okay, then, she thought. “Hope I can remember these.” She smiled, hoping she could wrangle at least a polite grin back. He gave her nothing.

Suddenly, another guy entered the office. He looked at the executive and sneered.

“Jimmy, why are you at my desk?” the guy asked. “And where's my lunch?”

The wunderkind in the bow tie melted into a puddle of subservience. He wasn't an executive after all. He was like Maya, all right, but the Maya she used to be. The wannabe.

“I'll get it right now, sir,” the kid said.

Maya showed herself out. Literally nothing was what it seemed here.

As she made her way off the lot, she passed a haunted hotel, two cowboys on their iPhones, and what looked like a middle-aged executive having a breakdown in her car. As surreal as it all was, she still couldn't take her mind off the one thing that was real in the whole city. And that was the guy waiting for her back at the hotel.

Before she could go back, she had one more errand to run. A secret errand she didn't tell Jake about. One that, according to Nicole, would either help set the stage for a night to remember or—if she failed—leave Maya sobbing like that lady in her car.

She needed to hit up a lingerie store.

Maya had told Nicole she was done with the whole dress-up thing, but according to Nicole, lingerie was different. She needed to be sexy for Jake. She needed to be seductive. She needed to not show him her supply of raggedy old bras Nicole was tired of seeing in the laundry.

Maya was pretty sure Jake would be thrilled to see her in anything, but Nicole was insistent. She had a place Maya had to try, a lingerie shop to the stars. They'd hook her up with something amazing. The one catch was that it was on the other side of town.

Maya had the town car take her from Burbank to Malibu. When she arrived, she found a boutique so exclusive there wasn't even a sign. It didn't even look open. But then a woman opened the door.

“You must be Maya,” she said in a French accent. “Welcome.”

Maya was immediately greeted by more lingerie than she'd ever seen in her life. So many styles, so many colors. She didn't know where to begin.

“What's the occasion?” the woman asked.

What's the occasion? How many different reasons could there be to wear this stuff? Regardless, Maya had no intention of sharing her personal business with a total stranger.

“Just looking,” Maya said.

The woman's smile faded. She clearly enjoyed reveling in the juicy details of her customers' lives, and Maya withholding them was nothing short of a personal rejection. “I'll be over there if you need me,” she said, retreating to the back.

Maya checked out the merchandise. She wanted something hot. Or, she thought, did she want sophisticated? Or did she want cute? As she walked around the shop, she was hammered by all the options. Was she a stripey girl? Was she lacy? Was she … pink? Was that what this color was? And why was it different from this pink, and this pink? One misstep and she'd find herself looking like a hooker after all.

In this moment, Maya wished more than anything that she had Renee and Cleo there to help her. Or save her from herself. She took out her cell to call them, but her battery was dead.

“Looks like someone needs a little help after all. …” The woman reappeared, smirking. “Now, why don't you tell me what you have planned. …”

She had Maya at her mercy, and they both knew it. Maya
swallowed hard as she prepared to tell this random woman every embarrassing detail of her night ahead. …

By the time Maya made it back to the hotel, it was night. She'd wound up choosing a demure cream-colored bra-thing, which she'd changed into at the shop. Even though she was wearing a blouse and a black jacket over it, she was still paranoid people would know she had it on.

Maya checked in and went straight to Jake's room. She'd been gone all afternoon and Jake was waiting. Would he have some little setup going? Dim lights? Room service maybe?

She arrived outside his door and knocked. Suddenly, her heart raced. On the other side of this door, she thought, was literally the other side of her life. After tonight, she would never be the same. Thinking of Jake, she smiled. She was ready. She knocked again.

Finally, the door opened. But it wasn't Jake Maya was facing.

It was Nicole.

Maya smiled, confused. “Nicole, what are you doing here? What happened to your tournament? You were supposed to …?” Nicole was wearing an oversize white T-shirt with a giant bar code on it. Jake's.

Maya looked past Nicole. Jake was in bed behind her, shirtless and wasted. He didn't know Maya was there. He barely knew he was there.

Maya was dumbstruck.

“Tournament?” Nicole asked. “You must've misunderstood. I'm here for the audition.”

Maya just stared at her.

“Oh,” Nicole said, “I didn't tell you I was on the short list for that part, too? Hm. Must've slipped my mind.”

Just then, Jake sat up in bed. “Look who's here,” he said, slurring. “It's Maya. Did you have a good day, Maya? I had a good day. I had a friggin' great day.” His eyes were unfeeling, but it was from more than just the alcohol.

Nicole smiled. “I hate to be rude, but we're in the middle of something.”

With that, Nicole shut the door in Maya's face.

Underwater. That's where Maya had been, from the minute Nicole opened the door to Jake's room until this minute, when she stepped inside the tennis stadium for her audition. She didn't know how she'd gotten here. She didn't even know how she got back to her room last night. All she could see in her mind was Jake and Nicole. Jake and Nicole.
Jake and Nicole.

The more Maya tried to make sense of it, the more confusing it got. Every question spawned five more. How could they have done this? To her? And like that? Maya didn't just discover them—he'd known she was coming. And when she got there, no one apologized. They didn't fumble around for their clothes in a panic and promise that it wasn't what it looked like. It was like they wanted her to find them. To suffer.

Everything Maya believed was a lie. Nicole King was her friend. Jake was her boyfriend. They would never hurt her. All
of it evaporated. More like blew up in her face. Now all she felt was numb.