Read Online Hollywood Hills by Aimee Friedman - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Aimee Friedman
Tags: Fiction
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“PCH, to us natives,” Seamus said, braking behind a silver Beamer and stretching his arms over his head. Alexa noticed he’d taken off his tweed wannabe-professor jacket somewhere during the drive, and now wore only his annoying band T-shirt. “And more specifically,” he added, turning the car off the highway, “we’re now in Malibu.”
“You gave him Jonah’s address, Hol?” Alexa asked, peering eagerly ahead; the car was inching its way up, up, up a steep, rocky path that was lined with lush green shrubbery. If she craned her neck, she could make out sprawling homes cropping out of the hills; Alexa imagined the various tennis courts, pampered puppies, and fur-lined slippers that were behind each gate. This was where she belonged. Alexa was still a little sore at Holly and Seamus, but she wasn’t going to let them spoil this rapturous moment.
“Just go all-out Hollywood and call me your chauffeur,” Seamus teased, and Holly felt a pang of guilt that he’d driven all this way to drop them off. He’d explained on the way that he was staying with his family in La Brea, which meant he’d have to loop back toward the city after leaving Malibu, but he’d promised Holly that he didn’t mind. As a compromise, he’d suggested that he and Holly swap cell numbers so she could treat him to an iced coffee that week.
The dusty Mustang, having finally reached the summit, came to a stop in front of a tall, trellised gate hung with red bougainvillea. Behind the gate was a house that took Alexa’s breath away. It was a pale, pale rose color, with a sloping Spanish-style red roof and a wraparound deck that faced out onto the water. It seemed like a place fit for a prince, Alexa thought, her skin tingling. A little beyond the gate, near a glittery blue infinity pool, was another house that looked like a miniature of the original. The guesthouse. Their guesthouse.
“Well, I guess this is it,” Seamus said casually, as if he pulled up in front of Malibu mansions every day. He popped the trunk, a sure sign that he was ready to say farewell and get back on the road. “Maybe I’ll see you girls again sometime—if you’ll ever want to leave here, that is.” Neither Alexa nor Holly was able to reply.
The gate opened, and out stepped an attractive, shapely young woman in her mid-twenties, with dark copper skin and black hair up in a tight bun. She was in all white, from her trim suit to the tiny cell in her hand to her razor-thin heels. As the woman made her way purposefully toward the convertible, Holly sat up straighter, clearing her throat. Had they come to the right place?
“Um, hi, we’re looking for—” she began, her voice squeaky, but the woman cut her off.
“Mr. Eklundstrom was expecting you to arrive today,” she announced in a soft, modulated tone. “I’m his assistant, Esperanza. Please follow me.”
Her heart drumming, Holly turned in her seat to regard Alexa, whose lips were parted and eyes shining. For the first time since getting in the car, the two girls held each other’s gazes for a long moment, and slowly, despite any bickering that had gone on before, their faces broke into simultaneous smiles. Holly knew they were thinking the exact same thing.
They were, in fact, lucky bitches.
CHAPTER FOUR
Starry-Eyed Surprise
“El Sueño,” Esperanza said in crisp, flawless Spanish as the white-jacketed butler (who may or may not have been faking his British accent) set the girls’ bags down in the entrance hall of the guesthouse. Esperanza nodded at him, and he noiselessly departed.
“Perdón?” Holly asked shyly. She’d been gawking out the window at their white-and-silver sundeck, but now she turned around, intending to put her limited Spanish to some use. But Esperanza shot her a look that indicated she shouldn’t even try.
“ ‘The Dream,’ ” Esperanza translated coolly, flipping open her cell phone to check something on the screen. “It’s what Mr. Eklundstrom named
“PCH, to us natives,” Seamus said, braking behind a silver Beamer and stretching his arms over his head. Alexa noticed he’d taken off his tweed wannabe-professor jacket somewhere during the drive, and now wore only his annoying band T-shirt. “And more specifically,” he added, turning the car off the highway, “we’re now in Malibu.”
“You gave him Jonah’s address, Hol?” Alexa asked, peering eagerly ahead; the car was inching its way up, up, up a steep, rocky path that was lined with lush green shrubbery. If she craned her neck, she could make out sprawling homes cropping out of the hills; Alexa imagined the various tennis courts, pampered puppies, and fur-lined slippers that were behind each gate. This was where she belonged. Alexa was still a little sore at Holly and Seamus, but she wasn’t going to let them spoil this rapturous moment.
“Just go all-out Hollywood and call me your chauffeur,” Seamus teased, and Holly felt a pang of guilt that he’d driven all this way to drop them off. He’d explained on the way that he was staying with his family in La Brea, which meant he’d have to loop back toward the city after leaving Malibu, but he’d promised Holly that he didn’t mind. As a compromise, he’d suggested that he and Holly swap cell numbers so she could treat him to an iced coffee that week.
The dusty Mustang, having finally reached the summit, came to a stop in front of a tall, trellised gate hung with red bougainvillea. Behind the gate was a house that took Alexa’s breath away. It was a pale, pale rose color, with a sloping Spanish-style red roof and a wraparound deck that faced out onto the water. It seemed like a place fit for a prince, Alexa thought, her skin tingling. A little beyond the gate, near a glittery blue infinity pool, was another house that looked like a miniature of the original. The guesthouse. Their guesthouse.
“Well, I guess this is it,” Seamus said casually, as if he pulled up in front of Malibu mansions every day. He popped the trunk, a sure sign that he was ready to say farewell and get back on the road. “Maybe I’ll see you girls again sometime—if you’ll ever want to leave here, that is.” Neither Alexa nor Holly was able to reply.
The gate opened, and out stepped an attractive, shapely young woman in her mid-twenties, with dark copper skin and black hair up in a tight bun. She was in all white, from her trim suit to the tiny cell in her hand to her razor-thin heels. As the woman made her way purposefully toward the convertible, Holly sat up straighter, clearing her throat. Had they come to the right place?
“Um, hi, we’re looking for—” she began, her voice squeaky, but the woman cut her off.
“Mr. Eklundstrom was expecting you to arrive today,” she announced in a soft, modulated tone. “I’m his assistant, Esperanza. Please follow me.”
Her heart drumming, Holly turned in her seat to regard Alexa, whose lips were parted and eyes shining. For the first time since getting in the car, the two girls held each other’s gazes for a long moment, and slowly, despite any bickering that had gone on before, their faces broke into simultaneous smiles. Holly knew they were thinking the exact same thing.
They were, in fact, lucky bitches.
CHAPTER FOUR
Starry-Eyed Surprise
“El Sueño,” Esperanza said in crisp, flawless Spanish as the white-jacketed butler (who may or may not have been faking his British accent) set the girls’ bags down in the entrance hall of the guesthouse. Esperanza nodded at him, and he noiselessly departed.
“Perdón?” Holly asked shyly. She’d been gawking out the window at their white-and-silver sundeck, but now she turned around, intending to put her limited Spanish to some use. But Esperanza shot her a look that indicated she shouldn’t even try.
“ ‘The Dream,’ ” Esperanza translated coolly, flipping open her cell phone to check something on the screen. “It’s what Mr. Eklundstrom named
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