One Night with a Star (Second Chances Book 2) (18 page)

“And that’s what I like about you,” Yvonne said.

If Simon never had to deal with another catering company again, it would be too soon. There was a reason he left this sort of thing to Yvonne. She’d helped him deal with the mess at first, but had left just as things were getting interesting.

“You’re so much more responsible than you were before,” she told him, kissing his cheek and heading back to her car. “It’s like my little boy is all grown up. Which means you can handle this.”

Well, he had handled it, but only after arguing with the catering manager, who insisted that their order had been canceled, and standing over their shoulders until they finished putting everything together and loading up the truck. And yes, he supposed it did make him feel a bit grown up. If only being grown up wasn’t so overrated.

By the time he made it back to Twin Pines, the joint was jumping. He directed the caterers around to where they could unload the food, then parked his own car and strode into the building, eager to see how everything was doing.

Who was he kidding. The second he spotted Jenny’s car in the parking lot, the only thing he could think about was finding her.

He did find her, helping Mrs. Porter with a display of photo albums against the far wall. She was still dressed as she had been for work that morning, her cute, pink power suit sending his blood-pressure soaring, especially when she bent over to reach for something on the table. What had he been thinking? Problems with the caterer? He couldn’t recall a thing about it.

“What are you doing here?” he asked when he reached the table.

Mrs. Porter sent him a knowing smile and edged away, pushing a friend away with her.

Jenny straightened and turned to him. “Why do people keep asking me that? Can’t I help out with a party? An important party that affects my friends?”

Not exactly the greeting he had hoped for, but it still made him want to tug her into his arms for a messy, wet kiss that would give half the people in the room heart attacks.

“I have no objections,” he said, settling for a lean in and a closed-lip kiss.

Jenny swayed toward him, and for a moment he thought she would be the one to initiate the heart-attack kiss. Instead, she rocked back toward the table and blew out an impatient breath.

“Neil is an ass,” she said, killing whatever was left of his over-excited mood. She glanced over her shoulder at him. “You had trouble with the caterer, right?”

Simon blinked. “They told me our order was canceled.”

Jenny nodded. “Neil.”

“Bastard,” Simon growled. “Everything is all right now, though.”

“Good.” She straightened and marched to the far end of the table where a display about Second Chances had been put up.

The display was far from Hollywood standards, but some of the residents had insisted on making it. Mr. Oliver had reported back that the crafters thought it helped them to stay involved.

“So what other messes has your lovely ex been causing?” he asked. He thrust his hands into his pockets, but only to keep himself from cupping Jenny’s backside when she leaned over to move a piece of the display.

“Telling people contradictory things, giving ridiculous orders,” she said. “Oh, and he called a tabloid to have them ambush the place for pictures.”

“Really?” Simon rubbed a hand over his face. “You know, I’m getting really tired of that dick.”

Jenny replied with an ironic laugh. “I think he’s pretty much taken care of now.”

“That’s a relief.”

This time when she moved, he reached out to catch her. She flinched in surprise as his hands wrapped around her waist, but relaxed as he pulled her close. It would have been perfect if her eyes hadn’t searched the room with a distracted intensity.

“I was going to call you in a bit,” he said, cozying closer to her and grinning as if they were the only people in the room.

“Oh?” she answered, still a tad somewhere else.

“Yes. I want you to be my date to the dance tonight.”

She stopped her restless searching and met his eyes. A smile flickered at the corner of her lips, but it faded all too soon.

“I don’t know if I can,” she said. “I’ve got so much left to do here still, then I need to go home and get Daniel.”

“Are you bringing him to the party?”

“Maybe? Would you mind?”

“I’d love it.” He squeezed her tighter. “Everyone would love it.”

Now she smiled. Simon felt like he’d said the right thing for a change.

“That’s going to take me a while,” she said. “Plus I have to change. It would probably be easier if we just met here.”

“But you’ll still be my date?”

She laughed and bit her lip. The quick gesture sent heat pulsing through him. That heat only flared hotter when she peeled herself out of his arms and gave him a teasing look.

“We’ll see. I might get a better offer.”

Simon’s heart thumped against his ribs. Something had changed with her since that morning. The anxious Jenny he’d been trying to get through to for days had taken a break, and the bold, vibrant Jenny who he’d lost himself to last year was making an appearance. If there was such a thing as luck, he was pretty sure his had just changed for the better.

“Simon, there you are,” Mr. Oliver called to him, approaching from the hall that led to the resident wing, pointing with his cane. “I need to talk to you.”

“I’ll catch up with you later,” Jenny said. She smiled, then turned and strode away, and if Simon wasn’t imagining things, walked with the sure, tempting stride of a woman who knew her backside was being checked out big time.

Mr. Oliver blew out a breath beside him, proving that theory even more. “That’s some dame you got there, sonny.”

“Hey, no ogling my girlfriend’s backside,” Simon snapped with mock offense.

Mr. Oliver’s brow flew up. “You two made it official, then?”

Simon let out a breath, shoulder dropping. “No, but a man can dream, can’t he?”

“Yes-sirree, he can.” Mr. Oliver planted his cane in front of him, leaning on it and watching Jenny until she turned the corner and left the room. Then he peeked sideways at Simon. “Son, let me give you a word of advice.”

“I’m all ears,” Simon said.

Mr. Oliver straightened, taking his time to share his point. “Women like that are a handful.”

“You can say that again.”

“They’re a handful, but they’re worth it,” he went on. “If you can catch them.”

“If?” Simon feigned offense. “Show a little faith, man.”

Mr. Oliver laughed. “If anyone can do it, it’s you,” he went on. “But you’ve got to be tender with a girl that is all spunk and fight. Underneath all that show, they want to be loved as much as any other girl.”

“What a wise man you are, Mr. Oliver,” Simon draped his arm around the old man’s shoulders.

“Eh,” Mr. Oliver shrugged. “I only say it because I had a girl like that once. Sweeter than honey, spicy as a tamale, and bright as the sun.”

“Oh?” Simon asked. “What happened?”

“I lost her too soon,” he said. “Much too soon.” He turned to Simon with a sly grin. “But those were the best fifty-three years of my life.”

Simon laughed, patting the old man on the back. “I hope I get half that many.”

“You will,” Mr. Oliver assured him. “If you play your cards right.”

“Hopefully you can help me there,” he said.

“Me? Help?”

“Yep,” Simon nodded. “Let’s make this night special. Let’s show her just how much a man can love a woman.

Chapter Seventeen

They didn’t make music like they used to. Simon stood near the table displaying old photo albums, a glass of sparkling cider in hand, tapping his foot as he watched the residents of Twin Pines dance.

“You’ve got to love a party that hits its stride at half past seven,” he told Ben Paul.

Ben stood next to him, wearing his trademark frown. Ben was tall and broad-shouldered, good-looking enough to be on stage, but he preferred to skulk around in a director’s chair. “Makes you wonder what the after-party looks like,” he said, sipping his champagne. He blinked at the glass, then held it out in front of him. “Who bought top-shelf champagne for a party at an old folks home?”

Simon grinned, wiggling his eyebrows. “We’re wooing their families and the board, remember? Besides.” He nodded to Mr. Oliver as he whirled past with a beaming, white-haired woman in his arms, doing remarkably well without his cane. “Nothing but the best is good enough for my friends.”

Ben arched a brow and studied Simon with his usual sharp scrutiny. “You really have turned over a new leaf if you’ve traded New York’s finest working girls for the residents of Twin Pines Senior Living Center.”

There was surprisingly little teasing in Ben’s tone. Anyone else would have sneered at Simon’s new outlook. It confirmed Simon’s good opinion of the man.

“Trust me, I’ve gotten the good end of that bargain,” he said.

Ben tipped his head in consideration and took another sip of his champagne. Simon shifted his weight, scanning the room. Jenny hadn’t come back since leaving to change and pick up Daniel. He caught himself watching the door more than once in the past twenty minutes since the party had gotten started. By all accounts, it was going to be a success, at least in terms of entertaining people. The residents were on cloud nine. Most of them had invited family, young and old, and most of the families has come. Maybe it was the draw of stars like him, Spence, and Adelaide Townsend—who had just signed on for the second season and stood at the side of the dance floor, surrounded by admiring men who were old enough to be her grandfather. Simon liked to think it was more than that.

The family of the residents weren’t the only ones who had showed up in droves. A large portion of the production crew, from grips to ADs to one man in a suit that Simon swore was an executive from the production company, were chatting with residents and board members alike. A group of the younger technical assistants was even dancing with a few of the more energetic seniors. It seems they both had a taste for swing dancing and Glenn Miller. Spence was out there dancing with Tasha too, looking very much in love and content with life.

It was all well and good—not to mention tons of fun—but Simon glossed over it all, watching the door. Where was Jenny anyhow?

“That girl of yours,” Ben said, evidently guessing where Simon’s thoughts were. “She’s in real estate, isn’t she?”

“Yeah. Why?”

Ben shrugged. “If all this does what it’s supposed to do,” he gestured around the room with his champagne glass, “then I’m going to need someone to find me temporary accommodation during filming.”

“Temporary?” Simon asked. He would have given his full attention to Ben, but at that moment, Neil strode through the door.

“Well, I can’t stay here year-round, like some people,” Ben grinned. “Once the show I’m putting together for the Great White Way opens, it’s on to the next one.”

“Yeah, congratulations on the Tony nomination, by the way,” Simon said, but he was completely distracted. Neil noticed him and changed direction to plow straight toward him through the dancers.

“Don’t think you’re going to get away with this,” Neil said as soon as he came close. The man hadn’t even bothered to put on a nice suit. He was dressed for the office. Simon was surprised he didn’t have his badge around his neck.

“Why, whatever are you referring to, Neil?” he played innocent, putting on his thickest BBC accent.

Neil scowled in return. “None of this is going to sway anyone. I’ve talked to all of the board members personally, and none of them want this.”

Simon fought the swell of hatred for the little pinhead. “Oh yes,” he continued with his haughty accent. “I can see a few board members over there, and they look positively discomfited by the whole thing.”

He doubted Neil knew what the fifty-cent word meant. All that mattered was that when Neil turned to where Simon was pointing, one of the board members burst into a laugh over something the crew member talking to her had said.

Neil’s scowl grew downright murderous. “That means nothing. That’s the problem with you Hollywood people. You think that you can charm and woo your way into everyone’s beds and make them do whatever you want.”

Ben arched an eyebrow, taking half a step back so he could observe. Simon resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

“I’ve never seen a man hold on so viciously to something that was over long before it began,” he commented, meeting Neil stare for stare. “You do realize you were just Jenny’s rebound guy, right?”

Neil’s face splotched with angry red. “So what does that make you?”

As much as he wanted to rise to the challenge and squash Neil into his place, he merely smiled and said, “That’s for Jenny to determine, but I have high hopes.”

Neil balled his fists at his sides. “Don’t count me out, Hollywood,” he spat. “You’re just going to get tired of her and toss her aside again, and I’ll be there to show her how a real man takes care of a woman.”

Of all ironies, it was that moment that Jenny made her grand appearance at the party, strolling through the door with Daniel in her arms. Simon’s heart sped up, and the room seemed to narrow to hold her and only her. She looked amazing in a little black dress, a necklace with some sort of chunky, pink stones gracing her gorgeous, slender neck. When she spotted him and smiled, he went dizzy with the joy of it.

Until her face dropped into a disgusted frown as soon as she spotted Neil.

“You see that?” Neil said. “You’re not so hot after all, are you.”

“I’m pretty sure that look was for you, mate,” Simon muttered.

“I can’t believe she brought that kid to a party like this,” Neil huffed, either ignoring Simon or not hearing him. “She has no idea how to be a good mother.”

“I’d pay good money to hear you say that to her,” Simon said through clenched teeth. He’d set Neil straight on his own, but one comment like that to Jenny and it was pretty certain that Neil would be short a few teeth. “Don’t ruin this evening for her by being a douche,” Simon warned.

It was too late, Neil was already marching across the dance floor, heedless of the couples, who had a harder than usual time getting out of his way.

“He’s a charming fellow,” Ben rejoined the conversation.

“He’s the reason we’re in this fix,” Simon said.

Ben narrowed his eyes and nodded. Whatever went on in Ben’s head, Simon wasn’t sure he wanted to know. A director’s whole purpose was to plot the best way to execute a story, and Ben was one of the best.

“You going to go put a stop to that?” Ben asked, nodding to where Neil had come to stand in front of Jenny, hands on his hips.

Simon hummed. “I’m definitely keeping an eye on it, but if anyone can handle themselves, it’s my Jenny.”

“What are you thinking?” Neil barked at her.

Daniel flinched away from him and started to cry. Jenny didn’t blame him at all.

“I was thinking that the residents of Twin Pines might like to visit with a baby,” she snapped back at him as sharply as she could without upsetting Daniel more. “Isn’t that right, sweetie,” she cooed to Daniel, bouncing and cuddling him.

“All right, all right,” Neil groused. “I guess I see your point.” He huffed and crossed his arms, swinging around to stand by Jenny’s side, looking out over the dancers.

Jenny ignored him, shifting Daniel to her other hip and starting to walk away.

“Where are you going?” Neil called after her.

Clenching her jaw, Jenny turned back to him. “Not that it’s any of your business, but this is a party. I’m going to mingle.”

“What if I want it to be my business?”

Jenny let out a breath, sinking her weight to one hip and staring at him as if he’d lost his mind. “Neil, you can’t actually be implying that I would consider getting back together with you at any time, under any circumstances, can you?”

He shrugged, sullen and offended. “We were good together.”

Jenny laughed and shook her head. “I was good for you, you mean. It’s over, Neil.”

She tried to walk on, but he said, “If I convinced the board to vote in favor of the stupid show on Friday, would you get back with me then?”

Anger that he would even suggest the idea swirled through Jenny’s gut. She turned and glared at him. For half a second, she entertained the idea of pretending to say yes for as long as it took to get through the board meeting, but no, she couldn’t. Her glance skipped across the room to where Simon was busy talking to his director friend. Whatever was going on between the two of them now, it bristled with promise. She couldn’t cut that off at the knees just to get Neil to play ball, not when she had spent so much time on Simon’s case for being a jerk to her.

“Neil,” she began, turning her attention back to him. “Have a nice life. I hope you find what you need, but it’s not me.”

She pivoted and walked away, not even turning back when Neil said, “I’ll ruin you, you know. I’ll make sure none of your Hollywood friends can ever set foot in this place again.”

She was sure he thought he had that sort of power. That was going to be a rude awakening. She smirked at the idea, part of her hoping she would be there to see it.

“Oh my, is this your handsome date?” a trio of Twin Pines’s most charming grannies stopped Jenny and Daniel as they made their way around the room.

Jenny wanted to find Simon and, well, just hang out with him, but she couldn’t resist showing her favorite guy off. “This is Daniel, she told them.”

The three of them hummed and cooed at Daniel, stroking his chubby cheeks and hands. Daniel lost whatever cranky mood Neil had put him in and smiled and laughed for the ladies. Lord help her, he was going to be just like his father someday.

That thought send a pang of longing through Jenny’s chest. Every time she tried to think about what to do with her relationship with Simon, she came up confused and anxious. She could think of a thousand reasons why it was risky at best and cruising for disaster at worse. But when her heart got involved, when she pushed her thoughts aside and just paid attention to how she felt, the picture came into focus. She loved him. She felt the potential for more than just these hot, intense flashes of new love too. This Simon, the one who had come back to her after leaving at the end of that one night, was the kind of man she could love forever.

“Heya, sweetheart, you want to dance?”

Jenny’s eyes popped open in surprise as Simon’s friend, Mr. Oliver, approached her at the side of the dance floor.

“I…uh,” Jenny stumbled.

“We can watch the baby, dearie,” one of Daniel’s admirers said. “You don’t want to miss a chance to dance with Bob.”

“They used to call me Twinkle Toes,” Mr. Oliver told her.

Jenny laughed, handing Daniel into the arms of one of the ladies. “I guess I would be a fool to say no,” she said.

As Mr. Oliver led her out to the fully-lit dance floor as strains of Moonlight Serenade played and couples swayed.

“Hot diggety,” Mr. Oliver said, drawing Jenny into his arms. “I get a slow dance with the prettiest girl in the room.”

Jenny laughed out loud. “Why, Mr. Oliver, I do believe I’m blushing.” What a contrast from five minutes ago when she’d been faced with Neil in a huff. They sure didn’t make men like they used to.

Except that sometimes they did. She caught herself searching the fringes of the room for a peek at Simon. He wasn’t chatting to his friend Ben anymore. Ben had moved on to what looked like an intense discussion with Dr. Brunswick. Jenny said a quick prayer that that would bear fruit. Simon wasn’t with Yvonne—who looked like she was warding off the advances of an old fisherman-type with an eye-patch—either. Suddenly, she felt like she was back in middle school, hoping the boy she had a crush on would show up and notice her.

“Now what is a pretty woman like you doing looking so anxious?” Mr. Oliver asked her.

Jenny broke into a guilty smile. “You got me. I should pay attention to my dance partner, right?”

He laughed, taking her through a few fancy steps like a gentleman.

“I’ve seen the way young Simon looks at you,” he told her. “Now that’s true love.”

Jenny blushed and glanced down. “Is it? I’m not sure we have that anymore in our generation.”

Mr. Oliver scoffed. “You young people are in so much more of a hurry than we ever were,” he said. “A lot of folks around here think your generation doesn’t know what they’re doing with themselves, and that no one has the patience for real commitment anymore, but I disagree.”

“You do?” Jenny blinked at him.

“Sure I do,” Mr. Oliver went on. “Love doesn’t change, only the ways people experience it.”