The Unidentified Redhead (1) (29 page)

We talked about silly things, inane things. The amazing hotel, whether or not to go out for dinner tonight, whether we would have time to do some sightseeing tomorrow before we had to head back to L.A.

My flight to New York was on Tuesday at noon, and while I was excited, I still couldn't help but get a little lump in my throat every time I thought about it. His week was shaping up to be busy. He had three interviews on Monday, and already one scheduled for Tuesday.

We ate our pancakes and drank our juice and he buttered my toast for me. I noticed at least one table that had figured out who he was, but he still showed as much affection for me as he did when we were in private. I found this to be both sweet and a little infuriating. It was as if he was determined to show Holly she was wrong about his fans. I wasn't crazy about being the sacrificial lamb, though.

When I was finished, I stretched my arms over my head and noticed he was done as well.

“You ready to go back to the cottage? We still have a little time left before you have to leave…we could have some sexy times,” I teased, running my fingers down his arm in what I thought was a seductive way.

“Oh, Gracie, you are killing me,” he said, reaching for me. “Last night, it was really great, you know?” he replied, bringing my hand up to his mouth, kissing my fingertips.

I heard a gasp from behind me, and I knew the girls that recognized him were either fainting or plotting my demise. I understood it, I had the same feeling when I found out Alyssa Milano had been dating Corey Haim.

I still harbored ill will towards her.

I tried to pull my hand away discreetly, but he kept it tightly in his grip.

“Hey, come on. You know what Holly said. We're not acting very smart.” I smiled at him, trying to get him to understand.

“Bollocks. I say we do and act how we want,” he said firmly, his brow furrowed.

“Yes, I agree bollocks, except that when these pictures come out, it's me that's going to have to deal with it. I'm not sure how I feel about that yet,” I answered.

“Grace, how do you feel about me?” he asked quickly, staring into my eyes.

“What? What do you mean?” I replied, nervously darting my eyes around.

“It's a simple question, how do you feel about me?” he asked again, reaching over and scooting my chair closer to him. The dragging of the chair across the tiles caused another table to look over, prompting another round of gasps.

Jesus, did only women who follow movie stars eat in this restaurant?

“Jack, I…”

“Pardon me, but are you Jack Hamilton?” I heard a timid voice ask. I swiveled my head around, grateful for the interruption, and I saw a woman, about maybe mid-twenties. I smiled at her, but she was oblivious to everything but her Joshua. I understood.

As Jack began to talk to her, a line began to form, and as I sat back and watched Jack chat with his fans, I could sense his nervousness come out more and more. He was kind and sweet, and to the untrained eye, he seemed totally comfortable. But I saw things, little things. He tucked his legs closer to him, ran his hands through his hair. He made the funniest expressions with his face. It was like he was one big eyebrow. He smiled at me occasionally, and while most of the girls kept their eyes on him the entire time (and really, why wouldn't they?) I could feel their eyes on me, sizing me up, trying to figure us out.

Ah well, I had been trying to do that very thing since he started texting me all those weeks ago.

Eventually, it was just us again, and we started walking back to the cottage. We were holding hands when we both noticed some of the same girls hovering about fifty paces back, and that's when I saw the camera phones coming out again. They had taken plenty of pics of him back in the restaurant, but now they were getting shots of him with me, holding my hand, and I knew that was bad news.

I dropped his hand like a hot potato and he grimaced, but didn't attempt to capture it again. I smiled at him understandingly, and he said, “For you, Grace, because I know you'll take the brunt of it. If it were up to me, I'd have you up against that tree over there,” he said seriously, pointing at a large Spanish oak.

“I know you would, George. I know.” I laughed, winking at him.

***

We got ready quickly, sadly with no time for boom boom, and headed out to the photo shoot. He promised we'd have time for boom boom later.

We held hands on the ride there and we talked about dinner that night. In lieu of the morning's antics, I firmly put my foot down when he asked again if I would like to go out for dinner.

“Hell no, we are eating dinner in bed, naked, stopping only to screw,” I answered, bouncing on the seat in anticipation of this evening. He laughed as we pulled into the estate where the photo shoot was taking place.

“Well, after the shoot, I'm sure some of the cast will be going out for a drink; can I at least get you drunk first?” he asked. We had decided that I would skip the shoot today and would just hook up with him later on in the evening

“Hmm, that might be OK. Not that it'll make it easier to take advantage of me. As you said…slut becomes me,” I joked, leaning over to kiss his neck. “And now that I have had a little Hamiltonian Sex Machine, I don't think I can do without,” I whispered in his ear as we pulled into the driveway.

He stopped the car where everyone else was parked and kissed me passionately, holding my face in his hands. He pulled away, and said, “Gracie, seriously, my ego can't take the thought of you saying 'little' and 'sex machine' in the same sentence as my name,” he said, seriously. I laughed, and made to get out of the car when he swatted me on the butt.

“Damn, George, you need to watch that. I'm already bruised from the drilling you gave me last night!” I taunted, backing away from the car, watching him chuckle. I backed right into a wall.

A rather warm wall that was laughing.

I turned around to see Lane, smiling down at me, winking at Jack who was still in the car. Nice Grace, way to keep it quiet. I blushed crimson, and hung my head as he roared.

“Drilling? You got a drilling last night?” He laughed. “You got a naughty girl here, Hamilton.”

“Oh man,” I mumbled, as I felt Jack come up beside me.

“She is naughty, but in the best way. Now back off, ass.” He chuckled.

“Yeah, back off, ass!” I cried, pushing on Lane's well-muscled chest. He grinned at me and I faked a punch at him.

He was cool. I think he had a meeting with Holly next week…interesting.

“See you tonight?” I asked, leaning into Jack's side as he waved Lane away.

“Yep, I'll get a ride with one of these guys when we're all done. Call you later?” he asked, kissing my forehead.

“Call me later, yes.” I smiled, pulling his face down to me so I could kiss him a little less chastely. I could hear Lane whistling behind us, and we both rolled our eyes.

“Kick his ass for me, will ya?” I chuckled.

“Grace, have you seen the size of that guy?” he shot back, swatting me on the butt as I turned to get back into the car. He watched me pull away and then headed towards the trailers with Lane, laughing like a little kid.

When I got back to the hotel, I settled in with my laptop. I had an email from Holly's friend in New York who was setting up where I would be living for the next few weeks or months. Turned out I would be staying at the W in Times Square while they got my sublet worked out. Times Square…a little touristy, but I did like W properties, and it would be close to the theater.

I also had an email from Michael, giving me some details about the rehearsal schedule that was due to begin on Friday. I'd have a few days to get my bearings before we went right into the first read on Friday morning. He had also attached some notes about the characters, as well as a new batch of rewrites. He wanted to get together Wednesday night to go over some character outlines so that I felt ready for the first reading.

I'd executed a one-eighty with Michael. He went from being someone I never thought of, to someone that I wanted to strangle, to someone I was glad to know again. It would be nice to have a friend in New York, and even though we hadn't spent any time together since college, I was sure he would become a good friend again.

I filled my morning nicely with another massage and a facial at the hotel spa. I had a lovely lunch for one at the poolside café, spent about an hour engaging in a mildly pornographic texting marathon with Holly back in L.A., but who was I kidding, I was waiting for Jack to call.

When I saw his name on my phone screen, it immediately brought to mind the feeling of him inside of me the night before, and I answered the phone with a soft growl. Which may have come out like a cough.

“Are you choking?” he asked.

“No, it was my attempt to be sexy for you,” I managed, my face turning red as I wheezed. He waited and chuckled as I got myself under control.

“How's the shoot going?”

“It's good, will probably take most of the day, but I should be headed back to the hotel by dinnertime. What've you been up to?”

“Oh, a little of this, a little of that. I miss you,”

“I miss you too, Nuts Girl. Wait a sec, hang on…I'm on a call! I'll be right there…with my girlfriend, if you must know.” I heard him talking to someone whose voice I could just make out…one I didn't recognize. My heart jumped when he used the term girlfriend. Wow, was I someone's girlfriend?

“Oh, tell Marcia I said hi!” I heard a woman's voice chirp, and then a rustling as Jack clearly covered up the phone. My heart that had been jumping for joy now stilled in my chest. I was silent, waiting for Jack to come back.

“Grace?”

“I'm here,” I said quietly.

“Sorry about that. There's some cast members here that I haven't seen for a while,” he replied, struggling to keep his voice even.

“Well, I'll let you get back to your shoot. See you tonight?”

“Right, see you soon,” he answered.

I hung up the phone and sat for a moment, not moving.

What did you really hear, huh?

Someone that still thinks this Marcia is his girlfriend, that's what I heard.

Once again, I pushed this shit aside and went for a run. At some point, I really needed to deal with all the things I'd been repressing lately. But as I began my run, it all fell silent and I concentrated on the view of the ocean and smell of the salt air. It really was pretty here.

I spent the afternoon mildly…oh, who was I kidding…wildly obsessing about this Marcia, and how to bring it up to the Brit. Admittedly, I had been a tad shady when I opened that text from him, and aside from the photos I'd seen on the internet, I had no basis for knowing anything more than what I'd overheard some woman say today. And the fact that she said it proved that they used to be an item. But the question was, how recently had they stopped being an item?

What, do you think he had no relationships before you?

No.

Do you think he came out of a box like that, just for you?

No.

You have a helluva past. Do you want to be judged on that?

NO.

Then fucking grow a set and ask him! Or shut up about it. You're leaving in three days. You want to spend it talking about some ex snatch of his?

Wow, my inner monologues were getting decidedly nastier.

After my run, I went for a swim, worked on a project for a client that I was almost finished with, and watched some reality TV. I kept busy.

About five-thirty, I got a text from Jack.

Hey, up for a drink? Some of the cast and crew from the shoot

are meeting for a drink in the hotel bar. Yes? Say yes, Grace.

I texted him back.

Yes, Grace.

He quickly responded.

See you in an hour. Then, room service…me…

and all the pounding you can handle. Say yes, Grace.

I texted back.

Yes, Yes, Yes, please.

I was not too proud.

***

When he got back, he sent me a text and I met him downstairs. I saw Lane and Rebecca and a few other people from the shoot, including the photographer.

I went up to Jack, who was at the bar, with his back to me. “Are you Joshua?” I asked, in a timid voice. He turned around with a resigned look, until he saw me.

“Not funny, love.” He frowned, but then pulled me into a kiss so passionate it literally swept me off my feet. He actually picked me up. Nice. I heard Lane wolf whistling behind me.

I kissed him back feverishly, pressing myself against him, letting him feel my breasts under my thin cotton shirt. I got a reaction instantly. I loved tasting the beer and the whiskey in his hot mouth.

“Get me a shot will you?” I asked, pulling away and nodding to the bar.

“You want a shot?” he asked, he knew I rarely did shots.

“Yep,” I answered, rubbing my gloss off his lips.

Lane mouthed the word “drilling” at me from behind Jack. I rolled my eyes at him and gave him an obscene gesture involving my tongue and cheek. He laughed aloud.

“OK, here ya go,” he consented, handing me a shot and taking his own in hand. I winked at him and tossed it back. It burned and I made the most awful face, which almost made him spit his out.

We found seats with the rest of his group and he introduced me to some of the other cast members, including the woman I had overheard on the phone earlier.

“So sorry about that. Jack sure was irritated with me over that little slip,” she said, shaking my hand and introducing herself as Bailey. She played Joshua's sister in the film.

“No worries.” I smiled evenly.

“No really, I felt like such an ass. Although I can tell you, I've never seen Jack so worked up over a girl the way he is with you.” She smiled sincerely, and I felt my stomach unwind a bit. Jack winked at me from across the booth and I shamelessly blew him a kiss.

We hung out in the bar for almost two hours, laughing and talking. I thoroughly enjoyed spending time with people from Jack's other life. I really liked Rebecca. She congratulated me on the show in New York and she promised she would do her best to keep the ladies away from him as much as possible. That chick was damn funny and she didn't let Jack give her any shit, which I loved. He was in his element with this group, telling stories and cracking everyone up with his Brit wit.