One Hot Secret by Sarah J. Brooks

Chapter 11

Jack

“It was as though in the space of a few hours, we had found ourselves in hell, surrounded by a raging fire.”

The voice belongs to Damon Knight, the character I’ll be playing in my next movie. He was the only firefighter who survived a raging wildfire in his hometown. I listen to nuances in his voice and visualize him speaking.

A knock comes on the door, and I hit stop my computer and remove my headphones. “Yes?”

The door swings open, and Chris, my PA peers in.

I slip the headphones off and jump to my feet. “Come on in!” I bellow at him, pleased to see him.

“Hey, B,” he says and enters the room.

We bear hug and clap each other’s shoulders. “Welcome back,” I tell him. “How was the honeymoon?” He has a deep tan and a relaxed look about him.

“It was fantastic. I’m not sure whether taking Vanessa to a luxurious Caribbean resort was the best idea. She didn’t want to come home,” Chris says.

I laugh. “That’s wonderful. I’m glad you enjoyed yourselves.”

“Thank you. That was the best wedding gift,” Chris says.

I wave his thanks away. He works hard for me, and the least I could have done was give him and his bride a honeymoon to remember.

“I can’t seem to get used to your new face,” he says, staring at me.

“I’m only starting to recognize it as mine, myself. The first few weeks after I came home were terrible. I kept jumping back, startled, when I looked at my reflection in the mirror.”

Chris contemplates me. “I spoke to Sebastian earlier today. He told me that you’re seeing someone. Congratulations.”

“Sebastian has a big mouth,” I grumble, although I’m not really bothered. Sebastian, Chris, Ethan, Maria, and Carlos are like family to me. I trust them implicitly, and over the years, they’ve earned it and proved their loyalty over and over again. I’m lucky in that sense. Many of my contemporaries are surrounded by people whose loyalty is only a tabloid offer away.

Chris laughs and then puts on his work face. “I’ll be next door. I know the inboxes are overflowing.”

“Yeah, and also please get me a reservation for two at La Sade. Dinner.”

“Sure thing.” He leaves, shutting the door behind him.

Las Sade is one of the most exclusive restaurants in the city. I want to take Grace somewhere nice, and though I’ve been enjoying the restaurants we’ve been visiting, I’m craving my normal haunts.

Her revelations last night after dinner had shaken me. It seems like a bad movie plot that I should end up dating Ricky Ross’s daughter without knowing it. No wonder she hates media attention. Her father was one of the most talented but wildest rock stars who ever lived.

After coming home last night from Grace’s, I’d looked him up and had been saddened by the last years of his life. He died a broken and penniless man, having wasted all his fortune.

I’d seen a few pictures of Grace as a child, and they made me want to cry. She had looked well cared for, but her eyes had told a different story. She had been a lonely child. Seeing her looking so sad and staring at the camera with her big eyes had brought out such strong protective feelings, I’d felt like ripping her away from the screen and taking her home to shower her with the love she so desperately craved.

Panic rises in my chest as I remember how adamant she had been that she would never date a celebrity. I had to make her see that not all celebrities live as her parents did. The majority don’t. We’re regular people who just happen to have very big paychecks. Still, fear clutches at my heart at the thought that she’d be willing to end it just because of what I do.

Mulling over the issue is not helping. I grab my script and notes and continue working. I feel as if I know my character, although I’ve yet to meet Damon Knight. We’re set up to meet after I’m done with my three weeks at the fire station.

My heart pounds as it dawns on me how close it is. Decisions will have to be made regarding our future. I’ll have to come clean with Grace and tell her who I am. How will she react? Beads of perspiration form on my forehead. What if she never wants to see me again?

I force myself back to work. I have a method when I get a script. To depict a character, I have to immerse myself into their personality, and for that to happen, I have to understand them.

The script itself gives you clues as to the character’s personality, but I also like to go through it and highlight areas where other characters voice their thoughts about my character. Enough of those, and I get an idea of what other people in the story think of my character.

I’m so immersed in it that I only realize how much time has gone when a knock comes on my door. It’s Chris.

“Maria said that lunch is ready,” he says.

“I’ll be there,” I say while stretching my stiff muscles. I reach for my phone and see a message.

Grace: Hey. Can I cook you dinner tonight?

Me: I have a better idea. Let me take you out to dinner. Somewhere nice.

Grace. We ate out yesterday.

Me: Yeah, and we’ll eat out today. Wear the dress you had planned on wearing yesterday.

Grace: You’ve convinced me.

Me: I’ll pick you up at seven.

I head to the kitchen, where I find Ethan and Chris eating at the kitchen table. I pull up a chair and join them. Seeing Chris gives me an idea.

“Can I borrow your car this evening, Chris?” I ask him.

He looks at me quizzically. “I drive a sedan.”

“I know what car you drive. So, can I? Ethan can drive you home and pick you up in the morning.”

“Sure,” Chris says as he forks spaghetti into his mouth. “Usually people use expensive cars to impress girls.”

“I’m a regular guy with a regular job. Why would I have a driver and a bodyguard?”

Chris shakes his head. “Women are very unforgiving about something like this. If you’re really interested in her, tell her who you are.”

“I told him the same thing,” Ethan says. He doesn’t say much, and when he does, it’s usually something he has given a lot of thought to.

“I’ll tell her at the right time.”

Maria serves my food, and I eat and chat with the guys. After lunch, Chris and I go into his office next to the library, and we go through the mail he has set aside for me. When we’re done, I give him Grace’s address and ask him to have flowers sent to her.

“What flowers does she like?” he asks.

I draw a blank.

“Never mind,” Chris says. “We’ll start with those gorgeous bouquets that all women, including my wife, like.”

I glance at him in amusement. He’s saying the word ‘wife’ at every opportunity he can. I guess it does feel good to have a wife. I’ve never thought about marriage and always assumed that I would be a bachelor for life. I’ve never felt a need to procreate or tie myself to one person for the rest of my life. I liked my life as it was, but since meeting Grace, something has shifted. It doesn’t feel stifling to imagine being tied to Grace for the rest of my life. She feels like a part of me already.

I just need to convince her how right we are for each other and that we don’t need to live our lives in the spotlight. I keep a really low profile, and the only time I appear in the media is when we’re promoting a new movie.

***

“You look beautiful.” I lean forward to plant a kiss on Grace’s bare shoulder. The dress she’s wearing looks perfect on her and showcases her perfect body. “If I were less of a gentleman, I would toss you over my shoulder and take you back upstairs.”

She laughs. “That sounds so romantic. Oh, and before I forget, thank you for the flowers. They were beautiful. How did you know I love lilies?”

I grin sheepishly. “Lucky guess.”

I lead her to Chris’s blue sedan and open the passenger door for her. I shut the door and go around to the driver’s side.

“I bet you’re glad that your car is finally out of the repair shop,” Grace says.

It takes me a moment to take in what she’s saying. These lies are becoming too many. Chris and Ethan are right. I should come clean. But the moment that thought forms, my heart thuds hard against my chest, and perspiration forms on my skin. It’s a frightening thought. Grace is not the kind of woman who says something without meaning it. Her parents did a number on her, and her beliefs are deeply ingrained. I’ll tell her soon, I tell myself as we drive to the restaurant.

“How was your day?” I ask her as I put the car into gear and peel out of the parking lot.

I love how her scent fills the car, masking the horrible car air freshener that Chris uses.

“It was good. I painted in the morning and then cleaned up and spoke to my parents for almost two hours in the afternoon,” she says, laughing softly.

“I like how close the three of you are,” I tell her.

“Yes, we are lucky like that.”

“What were you painting?” I ask her.

“A landscape of the canyon and the city,” she says and lets out a sigh. “That was one breathtaking view.”

“It was, but not more breathtaking than you.”

She shoots me an amused look. “Are you comparing me to a view?”

“No, I’m comparing the view to you,” I quip, and she laughs.

“What about you? Did you get the stuff you wanted to do done?” she says.

I wish I could tell her about my day. Share the plot of the movie with her and hear what she thinks. Tell her about the people in my life and the ones I interacted with today.

“I did. Most of it anyway,” I say instead.

I feel her stare, but she doesn’t pursue. That’s another thing about Grace. She’s naively trusting, and that makes me feel guilty as fuck. She doesn’t question what I tell her. But why would she, a voice inside my head says. How many people are movie stars in real life? This is such a mess, and I suddenly wish that I’d met Grace when I was myself, not Jack fucking Acker.

We get to the restaurant, and I hand over the keys of the sedan to a valet.

“Are you sure we can afford this?” Grace whispers as we walk up to the entrance.

I squeeze her hand that is draped on mine. “Don’t worry. We’re good.”

“I’m okay with Chinese or anything really,” she says.

“I know you are, but I wanted to bring your somewhere special for dinner.”

Inside the restaurant, I give my fake name to the hostess, and she takes us to a nice table in the corner of the room.

Grace looks around. “I don’t mean to be ungrateful, but this place is too expensive. I’ve read reviews of it in the papers, and I know getting a reservation is not easy.”

I wish I could wipe off the worry on her face, but I can’t without telling her my real identity. I’m not ready for that yet. Not ready to lose her.

“I know a few well-connected people,” I tell her. “They come in handy when I want to go to a nice restaurant.”

Grace is silent for a while. “I don’t want to pry, but you should be careful about how you use your money. From what I’ve read and heard, trust funds are dangerous. That money seems endless, but it can run out quickly if you’re not careful.”

She thinks I have a trust fund! Great. This is going from bad to worse.

“I hear you, but why don’t we just enjoy our dinner tonight and worry about finances tomorrow?” I can see that she’s not pleased with the idea of dropping the topic, but she nods and smiles.

I enjoy a nice dinner out every so often, and this time is even better than previous times when I’ve been here. Grace is awesome company. She’s well-read and can talk about anything from movies to current events.

We linger after dinner to drink the half bottle of wine we ordered. Afterward, I tip the waiter generously as well as the valet when he brings the car around.