they’d married fourteen months ago. Grace looked around, taking in the living room where they had hosted dozens of parties. None of it held any meaning to her. Nick and his interior decorator had picked out the furniture and the ultramodern decor while she’d been on location. She’d thought she would come to like it or at least get used to it over time, but it hadn’t happened. The house, impressive as it was, had never truly felt like a home. She bit her lip to stop herself from saying it out loud. “You can have the house.”
“Did you just say…?”
She nodded. “That you can have the house. It’s too big for me alone anyway. I just want the cottage in Topanga Canyon.”
He stared at her with eyes as round as an owl’s. “You prefer the cottage to the house?”
Before she could answer, the gate buzzer sounded.
Nick glanced toward the foyer. “Are you expecting someone? Your new boyfriend?” he asked casually.
A little too casually, Grace thought. Clearly, he couldn’t help being a bit jealous of any new man in her life. “I don’t have a new boyfriend.”
“No? I thought maybe you and Russ… You looked pretty cozy on set.”
Grace burst out laughing. “It’s called acting, Nick.” Kissing her co-star on film had probably been the most unromantic moment of her life. “Be right back.”
Lauren parked in the same spot as the last time she’d been here and climbed the stairs to the Durand/Sinclair mansion.
Again, Grace was the one who opened the door, with no sign of any employees around. “It seems we’re making a habit out of these impromptu meetings,” Grace said when she stepped back to let her in. She was smiling, though, and didn’t sound annoyed at the interruption. In a pair of faded Levi’s and a Central Precinct T-shirt, she was more attractive than any woman had a right to be.
For some reason, that annoyed Lauren even more. She didn’t return the smile. “We need to talk.”
Grace looked back over her shoulder, toward the living room. “Now isn’t a good time.”
“Now is a very good time,” Lauren said. “If we don’t talk about this now, you can read all about it online tomorrow.”
Grace’s eyes widened. “What—?”
A man stepped into the foyer, interrupting them. “Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t want you to think I was intentionally eavesdropping on your conversation.”
The surprise and worry disappeared from Grace’s face as if she’d pressed an emotion-controlling button. With a practiced Hollywood smile, she said, “Nick, this is Lauren Pearce, my new publicist. Lauren, this is Nick Sinclair, my husband.”
Lauren would have recognized him even without the introduction. She’d met him only once, but he’d been photographed with Grace often enough. Admittedly, they made a striking couple, his black hair and broad shoulders contrasting nicely with Grace’s blonde hair and feminine curves.
“I think we met at an after-party a few years ago,” Nick said.
“Right.” Almost against her will, Lauren was impressed that he remembered her. With all the classically beautiful actresses who’d paraded around the party in plunging dresses, she hadn’t thought that he’d paid her much attention.
They shook hands before Lauren looked back at Grace. “We really need to talk.”
“I’ll go,” Nick said.
“I didn’t mean to—”
“That’s okay. I’m expected back on set in an hour anyway.” He turned toward Grace and pulled her into his arms.
Lauren averted her gaze, giving them some privacy, but out of the corner of her eye, she saw that he just pressed his lips to her cheek instead of claiming her in a passionate kiss. “Thank you,” he said.
Grace hugged him tightly. “You’re welcome. Just be careful on set, okay?”
“Will do. See you tonight.” He jogged down the stairs, got into his gleaming black Corvette, and drove off.
They stood in the foyer for a few seconds, looking at each other, before Grace closed the front
“Did you just say…?”
She nodded. “That you can have the house. It’s too big for me alone anyway. I just want the cottage in Topanga Canyon.”
He stared at her with eyes as round as an owl’s. “You prefer the cottage to the house?”
Before she could answer, the gate buzzer sounded.
Nick glanced toward the foyer. “Are you expecting someone? Your new boyfriend?” he asked casually.
A little too casually, Grace thought. Clearly, he couldn’t help being a bit jealous of any new man in her life. “I don’t have a new boyfriend.”
“No? I thought maybe you and Russ… You looked pretty cozy on set.”
Grace burst out laughing. “It’s called acting, Nick.” Kissing her co-star on film had probably been the most unromantic moment of her life. “Be right back.”
Lauren parked in the same spot as the last time she’d been here and climbed the stairs to the Durand/Sinclair mansion.
Again, Grace was the one who opened the door, with no sign of any employees around. “It seems we’re making a habit out of these impromptu meetings,” Grace said when she stepped back to let her in. She was smiling, though, and didn’t sound annoyed at the interruption. In a pair of faded Levi’s and a Central Precinct T-shirt, she was more attractive than any woman had a right to be.
For some reason, that annoyed Lauren even more. She didn’t return the smile. “We need to talk.”
Grace looked back over her shoulder, toward the living room. “Now isn’t a good time.”
“Now is a very good time,” Lauren said. “If we don’t talk about this now, you can read all about it online tomorrow.”
Grace’s eyes widened. “What—?”
A man stepped into the foyer, interrupting them. “Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t want you to think I was intentionally eavesdropping on your conversation.”
The surprise and worry disappeared from Grace’s face as if she’d pressed an emotion-controlling button. With a practiced Hollywood smile, she said, “Nick, this is Lauren Pearce, my new publicist. Lauren, this is Nick Sinclair, my husband.”
Lauren would have recognized him even without the introduction. She’d met him only once, but he’d been photographed with Grace often enough. Admittedly, they made a striking couple, his black hair and broad shoulders contrasting nicely with Grace’s blonde hair and feminine curves.
“I think we met at an after-party a few years ago,” Nick said.
“Right.” Almost against her will, Lauren was impressed that he remembered her. With all the classically beautiful actresses who’d paraded around the party in plunging dresses, she hadn’t thought that he’d paid her much attention.
They shook hands before Lauren looked back at Grace. “We really need to talk.”
“I’ll go,” Nick said.
“I didn’t mean to—”
“That’s okay. I’m expected back on set in an hour anyway.” He turned toward Grace and pulled her into his arms.
Lauren averted her gaze, giving them some privacy, but out of the corner of her eye, she saw that he just pressed his lips to her cheek instead of claiming her in a passionate kiss. “Thank you,” he said.
Grace hugged him tightly. “You’re welcome. Just be careful on set, okay?”
“Will do. See you tonight.” He jogged down the stairs, got into his gleaming black Corvette, and drove off.
They stood in the foyer for a few seconds, looking at each other, before Grace closed the front
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