Release the Stars (6 page)

“I’ve actually thought about doing something food-related, but not quite like this. Thank you, Charlie.”

“You’re welcome.” Charlie relaxed a little.

“I look forward to having you over on Friday,” Ava said. “And I’ll try not to mention your book.” She chuckled into the telephone.

After this call, Charlie would surely need a counseling session with both Liz and Nick. “And I won’t so much as glance at a spoon.”

“We’ll see about that,” Ava said. “Goodnight, Charlie.”

“Goodnight.” They hung up and Charlie sat staring at her phone for a good long while. She wasn’t that dense. This
was
flirting. Ava was flirting with her and in a few days Charlie would have dinner at her gorgeous house in Malibu. Charlie was simultaneously elated and scared to death.

She went on Instagram again and checked her own account—if she checked Ava’s one more time she surely wouldn’t get any sleep tonight. She scrolled through her notifications and, to her surprise, Ava had commented on one of Charlie’s pictures. It was a snapshot of the paperback version of the latest
Underground
book.
Crying Rivers is still my favorite
.

CHAPTER SIX

“Is it a date?” Liz asked with a very serious expression on her face.

“No, of course not.” Charlie had managed to drag her co-worker and new teammate away from the others. Softball practice had ended, and she might have exploded if she didn’t tell another human being about her plans. She and Nick had been texting feverishly since the night before, but Nick was Nick, and he always peppered his advice with snarky comments that didn’t help to still Charlie’s nerves.

“Then what is it called when a woman you’ve just met offers to cook you dinner at her home?” Liz looked puzzled. “A woman who I witnessed flirting with you with my very own eyes, I might add,” Liz said.

“Erm, friendship,” Charlie offered. “She knows I’m relatively new to town, so…” Charlie didn’t believe what she was saying any more than Liz, but her head would explode if she let herself get carried away on the idea of dating Ava.

“I can ask around for you, you know?” Liz huddled a little closer. “Ruffle some branches of the lesbian gossip tree and see what falls to the ground.”

Charlie arched her eyebrows. “The what?”

“I was born and bred here, Charlie. I know… things. I know who to talk to about more secretive subject matters.”

Charlie chuckled. “That’s all right.” Although, if she was completely honest with herself, the thought had crossed her mind. Percentages aside, Charlie knew all too well about sexual fluidity and the gray scale, and, even more importantly, about the pressure to keep up appearances.

“Your call.” Liz’s earnest demeanor couldn’t be shaken. She obviously meant business. For some reason, this was a big deal to her.

“Do you have any examples of celebrities who are perceived as heterosexual but aren’t, according to your… tree?” Charlie had to ask.

“Do you have a spare hour or two so I can list them all?” Liz’s tone didn’t show any trace of lightening up any time soon.

“Despite having a busy job, I do have some spare time.”

“I was just joking,” Liz said, although her face indicated she was doing anything but. “I can’t give you that information. I can only do so if I deem it morally responsible. In Ava’s case, it would be.”

“Fine,” Charlie acquiesced with a flutter in her stomach. “Shake the tree for me.”

“You got it, buddy.” Liz ended with a wink, as though they now shared a huge secret. “So, what about Josie?”

Charlie scanned the women who were gathered around a table a few feet away from them, bottles of water and beer scattered between them. “Last I heard, she was in on a bet with her friends Andrea and Tiff about who could seduce me first.”

“Really?” Liz appeared genuinely shocked. “I’ll sort them out.”

They returned to join the others but, all through the banter, jokes, and the occasional crossing of her glance with Josie’s, Charlie could only think of one thing.

* * *

By the time Charlie left work on Friday evening, Liz had not been able to confirm any suspicions about Ava. According to Liz, this meant that she was either extremely careful or she was simply plain old straight.

This information didn’t ease Charlie’s nerves as she drove to Malibu after two showers and a frustrating hour of sighing in front of the mirror because she really didn’t have anything to wear to a casual dinner party with a woman who she wished was gay but, in her heart, knew full well was not.

She parked her car, shot herself one last glance in the rearview mirror, and headed toward Ava’s house. Unlike last time, the doors didn’t open as she walked up. Charlie shuffled her weight around a bit. Before she could knock, the door swung open and Ava appeared. Her long hair hung loose and was slightly windswept by the breeze.

Charlie opened her mouth to speak, but found that, at the first try, no sound came out. Mesmerized by the sight of Ava, she was unable to form coherent words.

“Welcome.” Ava clearly wasn’t stunned into speechlessness by Charlie’s appearance as Charlie was by hers. Ava opened her arms wide—a gesture Charlie had hoped she would repeat—and Charlie stepped into her embrace.

The scent of flowers and oranges clung to Ava, and Charlie could have easily spent the rest of the evening with her arms wrapped around Ava’s shapely body.

The hug didn’t last nearly long enough to meet the fantasy Charlie had been entertaining since she’d received the invitation. A crash of bodies. A sudden realization. A hug fluidly transforming into a peck on the cheek and then, because it was just so plainly inevitable, a proper kiss on the lips, followed by a mad rush into Ava’s bedroom and frantically tearing each other’s clothes off.

Instead, she followed Ava to the kitchen, her heart in her throat, her cheeks flushed by the brief skin-on-skin contact, and her mind in shambles, because, what was really going on? Yes, Charlie was here to enjoy Ava’s company and food, but her main mission for the evening was to find out exactly why Ava had invited her. Was she really only here to talk about books and to pick up some cooking tips?

“I’ve decided to make something semi simple, so it’s easy for you to participate.” Ava leaned against the kitchen counter. “I could have opted for really simple, but something tells me you can handle it, Charlie.”

The way Ava pronounced her name—which objectively speaking, probably wasn’t that different from the way Nick or Liz pronounced it—quickened her pulse as though it were a slow caress along her body. The sort of promise that set her blood on fire.

She should have “taken the pressure off” before coming to Ava’s house. She’d tried, but something had kept her from finishing. The ball of nerves coiled in her stomach, perhaps. Charlie couldn’t exactly pinpoint what had stopped her. The mere thought of coming here, on this “non-date date” with Ava, had her limbs paralyzed and her fingers had gone on strike.

So, now, here she stood, blazing with held-back desire, while Ava shot her an encouraging smile.

“But first,” Ava said, “we drink. What did you bring?”

Charlie handed her the bottle of 1999 Chateau Margaux. Because of her job, Ava was very vocal in interviews about her food and wine preferences. It hadn’t been hard for Charlie to figure out what her favorite wine was.

“Damn.” Ava looked at Charlie from under her lashes.

The main lyric of the song “Bedroom Eyes” flashed through Charlie’s mind.

Ava set the bottle on the counter and offered Charlie the corkscrew. “Will you do the honors? This probably needs to breathe for a while.”

Opening wine was Charlie’s most-practiced activity in any kitchen, so being asked to do so now boosted her confidence somewhat. For some reason, she always found comfort in removing the cork from an excellent bottle of wine.

Their fingers touched briefly, and another jolt of pure desire—there really was no point in denying what it was—entered Charlie’s bloodstream. As she drove the screw into the cork, she told herself not to drink too much. She would hate to make a fool of herself. This was a “friendship date,” after all. Friends didn’t lust after each other the way she was lusting after Ava in that very moment. She decided that the time it took to open the bottle was the exact amount of time she was allowed to get a grip on herself.

She wasn’t an impressionable teenager anymore. She was a thirty-eight-year-old woman in the prime of her life and the height of her writing career. She hadn’t landed in Hollywood as a fluke. She’d come up with the idea of one of the most-hyped TV shows of the decade. A show for which Elisa Fox was making the leap from movies to television—she wasn’t the first movie star to do so, but she was certainly the biggest.

“Let’s sit outside for a bit first,” Ava said. “We’ll have the wine with dinner. I have this.” She held up a bottle of Cristal.

Oh, Jesus
.
Small sips only!
“Excellent.” She grinned broadly.

Just like last time, the view of the ocean took her breath away. Ava poured her a glass of champagne, and they stood staring into the distance for a few minutes.

“It’s stunning,” Charlie said. “You’re so lucky to live here.”

“I know. Though it’s a step down from Abe Eisenberg’s mansion,” Ava said.

“He doesn’t have the beach view, though. And you should see my backyard,” Charlie said.

“Maybe one day…” Ava mused. By her tone of voice, Ava didn’t need an answer. “Are you renting?” Ava inquired.

“Yep. I have a place in West Hollywood.”

“Of course you do.”

Charlie had no idea what that was supposed to mean. Either way, real estate was not a topic she was very passionate about. If and when she decided to choose LA as her permanent place of residence, she might buy a house. Regardless, she didn’t have the funds for a place by the ocean. Not to mention, thinking of houses in Hollywood made her mind wander to Jo’s imminent arrival.

“Let’s sit,” Ava moved toward the seating area.

They shared a two-seater lounge chair that faced the ocean, a comfortable gap between their bodies.

“I thought we’d make a simple pasta sauce.” Ava turned her face toward Charlie. “I mean, unless you want me to, I don’t really want to teach you how to cook. I just used that as an excuse to invite you here.”

Loud fireworks in Charlie’s brain prevented her from coming up with a decent reply. Instead, she cocked her head to the side and studied Ava for further signs of flirting. The slightly crooked smile was there, as well as a little mischief sparkling in her eyes. Charlie might have been severely out of practice, but she did know what flirting looked and sounded like, especially when it stared her in the face like this.

“I’m sorry.” Ava filled the silence. “Did I make you uncomfortable?”

“No, no, of course not.” Charlie stammered. “Just took me by surprise, that’s all.”

Ava gave her a warm chuckle. “I’m quite a direct person. Not all the way, but ‘quite.’” She locked her gaze on Charlie, who concluded that Liz’s research must have been inadequate.

“I’m not all that interested in learning how to cook tonight,” Charlie said. “For all I care, we can order pizza.”

“Hmm.” Ava took a quick drink. “I’m not sure if I should be offended or flattered by that.”

“Really?” Charlie’s flirting ability started to come back. “I think you know how much I enjoyed your cooking.”

“Fair enough. In that case, I’m flattered that you prefer my company over my food.”

“FYI, I have an excellent pizza delivery place on speed dial.” She followed up by sinking her teeth into her bottom lip. If Ava was flirting, there was no way Charlie wasn’t going to give as good as she got.

“No need. I have a freezer full of goodies.” Ava drank the rest of her champagne and set the glass on the table in front of her, looking away from Charlie and thus breaking a bit of the tension building between them.

“Can I ask you something… personal?” Charlie couldn’t wait much longer to get some answers.

“Of course.” Ava reached for the bottle and topped up Charlie’s glass, then refilled her own.

“I’m certainly not gullible enough to believe anything a gossip magazine publishes, but… were you and Eric ever, erm, together?”

Ava gave her a careful smile. “I do wonder why you would ask me that.”

Charlie huffed out a nervous chuckle. “I don’t mean to pry—” she started to say, until Ava held up her hand.

“It’s okay.” Her smile broadened a bit. “I know why you’re asking.” She let one arm fall into her lap, which made her loose summer dress shift to the right a bit, putting her knee on display.

If it was a distraction maneuver, it worked.

“The answer is yes. Eric and I fell in love not long after he joined
Knives Out
ten years ago. We had a turbulent affair that lasted five years. It wasn’t nearly as dramatic as
US Weekly
would like you to believe. Because of work, we had to remain friendly after it ended. Which wasn’t easy at first, but now we’re excellent pals. I consider him one of my best friends.”

Charlie schooled her features into a quizzical expression. “That must have been hard though, having to work with him after breaking up?” She considered her own situation. She couldn’t even be in the same city as Jo—although soon she would have to be.

“During the course of our relationship, we broke up so many times. It was actually a relief when we finally decided to put a stop to it. We’ve both moved on since then. We’ve seen other people, and we’ve firmly progressed into the ‘friends only’ space.” Ava looked out over the ocean for a few seconds, as though reminiscing about her time with Eric. “We are both very direct and very passionate people. It was simply too much drama all the time when we were together. The fights we had… They were epic.” Ava grinned as if the conversation had stirred some pleasant memories in her. “But we can laugh at all that now.” She returned her gaze to Charlie and asked, “How about you? The WeHo lesbians must be going crazy for you?”

Charlie chuckled. “WeHo lesbians?”

“Nick tells me things.”

“Oh really?” Charlie made a mental note to give him hell tomorrow if she found out he’d been talking about her behind her back.