Chapter 3
3
G rant got the shock of his life when the deli girl turned around. Seeing her hair from the back had sent a little pang through his heart but discovering she actually was Sadie Heppner made him wonder if he was an unknowing contestant on Hidden Camera for Losers.
Two years had passed since he’d seen her. The consensus amongst their classmates on the morning they’d graduated from Cal U’s theater program had been that Sadie would be on the big screen within months while he would end up back in Ohio asking people if they wanted fries with that. Grant hadn’t disagreed. First off, he’d only changed his major to theater during his junior year, while Sadie had been a dedicated thespian all four years. Then there was raw talent, which Sadie oozed from every invisible pore of her perfect skin. The ultimate triple threat, she could dance, sing, act—all with the grace and beauty of a goddess. Grant knew he had some talent, but any time he’d found himself onstage with her, he forgot his lines and could have been outdanced by a three-legged spider.
Yet, somehow, their outcomes had apparently gotten reversed. Hollywood movie posters would soon feature his name and likeness, and here she was serving him lunch. Probably he should feel some sense of triumph, maybe even revenge, but all he felt was shocked—well, that and a renewal of the soul crushing longing he’d carried for her since the moment she’d blundered into his life by accident.
He’d just finished unpacking was sitting in his freshman dorm room re-evaluating the life choices that had stranded a Midwest farm boy in the So Cal culture of sprawling Cal University, when a whitish glow crossed the corner of his vision. He looked up, expecting to see his new roommate returning, but a young woman stood in the doorway. Dressed in white shorts and a billowy white top, the light from a window at her back offered hints at the perfect curves of her torso and turned the jumble of her curly hair into a radiant halo of soft, strawberry-blonde light. Even her little leather shoes gleamed white below slim, tanned legs. Her large, round eyes, a strikingly light blue, stared unblinkingly back at him as if the two of them already shared some special secret between them.
His heart did a fish-flop in his chest, his mouth becoming as parched and dusty as summer days working the family’s farm. He dared not move, lest he break the spell, but he desperately wanted to know what their shared secret might be.
Finally, her pink bow lips formed the words, “Sorry. I’m…,” and she was gone.
He leapt from his chair, but the hallway was crammed with move-in day students, their boxes, and their harried parents. The only place he could still see her was behind his closed eyelids, where she had etched herself in gold in his memory like the ancient paintings of holy saints. He leaned against his doorframe, cursing his slow reflexes as he waited for his pounding heart to slow. And then it hit him—this had happened to his father the first time he’d laid eyes on Grant’s mother. His father had known . Until that moment, Grant had rolled his eyes at the family lore. Surely, love at first sight was a myth. But, somehow, and despite all the other uncertainties in his life, he knew one clear and perfect thing: he would find her. And if his heart had anything to say about it, he would marry her someday.
As it turned out, he’d gotten one part right. He had seen her again, many, many times. He’d even gone out with her roommates on and off. And after he’d switched majors from business to theater, he’d played opposite her in several stage productions. But he certainly hadn’t married her. He’d never even asked her out—not out of shyness, but because she spent four years making it painfully clear how much she disliked him. In fact, unlike most every other woman he knew, and for no reason he could decipher, she full on loathed him.
Standing in front of them all now, Sadie licked her lips nervously. “I hope you like your sandwiches?”
Julia advanced on her with an extended hand. “Hi, I’m Julia Menlo.”
Sadie’s ice-blue eyes were wide and unblinking. “I’m Sadie. I’ve seen all your films. A lot. On the lot. I mean, I like them a lot…and I’ve seen them a lot. Like…lot.”
Grant smiled inside. The woman who’d owned every role he’d ever seen her play was now so starstruck she couldn’t put a sentence together! Yet even dressed in a hideous green apron, she outshone her idol, Julia.
How long had Sadie worked right here on the StarMont lot with him, and he hadn’t known? His heart did another fish-flop as an idea struck. Perhaps their second surprise meeting was a second chance, and a kinder one. Maybe bygones could be bygones, and her face would light up with happy recognition when she finally glanced his way?
Julia continued in a chummy, we’re-all-old-friends-here-aren’t-we manner. “Oh, that’s so kind, thank you. I…I wonder then if you might be willing to do me a small favor? You see, some creep took a photo of me being kissed by someone. It was a one-time, silly thing, and it only shows the back of my head, but it ended up looking like I was kissing somebody other than Mark. Uh. You’ve heard of Marklia?” Sadie nodded. “Well, we really are tight but?—”
Bile rose in Grant’s throat at Julia’s casual claim that the picture showed her being kissed by someone, because that was not at all how it had gone. Grant had shared only brief and one-hundred-percent professional interactions with Julia—mainly to discuss their upcoming movie—until the afternoon on Beau’s island when Grant unwittingly found himself alone with her on the beach. Out of nowhere, she’d grabbed his face and kissed him. Unbeknownst to them, that had been the moment the rogue photographer had struck.
After the kiss, Julia had dashed into the waves, her famous sultry eyes beckoning him to follow. Sea water coursed down her shapely legs and the wind tussled her trademark curls. He couldn’t deny the temptation but, as far as Grant knew, Julia and Mark were dating.
Grant was no cheater, and he would never do anything to hurt Mark Briddle. In addition to always being kind to him, Mark had taken Grant under his wing. He’d even been the one to invite Grant to the island. So, despite Julia’s beauty, Grant sighed with relief to see a group of her loud friends making their way down the beach toward them, umbrella drinks in hand. He’d been even more relieved when they’d whisked her away, back to the main house. After that, Julia had called him a few times at home, which surprised him, but the conversations had been brief and platonic. She seemed to want a friend, and he could certainly understand that.
Everything else Julia had said to Sadie made perfect sense—she was pouring on the lighthearted charm, trying to flatter and discombobulate a target to get what she wanted. Grant had witnessed Julia in this mode more than once. He admired the doors it opened for her, but seeing that power aimed at a starstruck, overwhelmed Sadie, Grant couldn’t help but think of a cat playing with a mouse before eating it.
Ronny apparently had a similar reaction. “Julia, let me,” he said, stepping forward.
Julia threw out a toned and lanky arm, which froze Ronny in his tracks. “Ronny,” she snapped, “I'm fixing this.” She returned her attention to Sadie. “Sorry about that. We’re just a little bit excited because it turns out, from the back, you look so much like me. It’s amazing, really, how similar our hair is. And so, we were wondering if you’d be willing to say it’s you in the photo? I mean, it’s Grant here you’d be saying you were kissing, and who wouldn’t want to kiss that, am I right?” She gave Sadie a woman-to-woman, knowing wink.
“Grant?” Sadie said, her tone tinged with suspicion. Grant’s heart shriveled a size.
Julia motioned in his direction, causing Sadie to finally look his way. And while her body language barely altered, her gaze shifted from saucer-eyed recognition to narrowed fury in under a second.
Well, that answered that question. She still, for some unknown reason, hated his guts!
Ronny tried again. “Actually, Julia, she can't just say she’s the woman in the photo. The press and the public must truly believe they’re in a relationship.”
“We have to take it that far?” Julia said.
“Yes. Otherwise, people will be suspicious.”
“So how—” Grant began but stopped himself, his nerves having reduced his voice to a ridiculous squeak. He cleared his throat and started over. “How do we do that?”
“She has to be seen with you on dates,” Ronny said. “Multiple dates.”
Grant’s heart kerthumped back to life at the prospect of multiple dates with Sadie. So what if it was only a ruse to protect Julia’s upcoming movie release? He would still have time alone with Sadie. Maybe he could figure out what made her want to stab him with sharp objects, and then maybe he could change her mind. And, anyway, if Ronny and Julia were asking him to do it, it wasn’t like he had a choice. What Julia wants, Julia gets.
“Dates?” Julia said, her face screwed up in consternation. She quickly righted it, becoming all smiles again. “Fine, fine. Would you do that for me, Sadie?” she asked, her syllables sugar-coated.
“With him ?” Sadie said. She sounded like someone had asked her to lick a toad.
Julia sensed her opportunity fading. “We would pay for everything, of course.”
Sensing his opportunity fading, Grant tried to sweeten the deal. And he knew exactly how to do it. “We can do better than that for her though, can’t we? I mean, most people working on the lot are interested in the movie business themselves. Maybe we could offer her something in Surf Summer ?”
“Oh, excellent idea. Let’s see…” Ronny said. He paused as he gave Sadie an obvious visual once-over. “Actress, am I right?”
“Trying to be,” Sadie replied.
“Perfect,” Ronny said. “Julia and Grant are about to sign a contract for Julia’s next rom com, Surf Sum mer, and it’s going to be even bigger than Take Me Out . How about we get you a speaking role? I think there’s one for a shop lady or a cabana girl or something. That will look nice on your vitae.”
Sadie stood there silently for an uncomfortably long time, her gaze vacillating between adoring glances at Julia, amazed ones at Ronny, and disgust-filled ones at Grant. “Exactly how many dates are we talking?” she said finally.
Julia swiveled her own Shirley Temple head toward Ronny. “Yes. How many are we talking?”
“Three should do it, but we’d need to make sure the paparazzi is there. We need plenty of photos.”
“Three?” Julia said, sounding surprised. She touched a finger to her forehead as she laughed lightly. “No, that's not so many.” She reached out and took Sadie’s hand, stroking her fingers with her own. “You know, you could get some extra nice dinners out of the deal, maybe even a trip somewhere. Have you been to San Francisco? There’s a café there that?—”
Sadie took her hand back. “I get to choose the dates,” she said, her sudden business-like tone and upright posture making clear that this demand was non-negotiable. The force of her words reminded Grant of the confident, clever Sadie that lay beneath her cherubic exterior. A jittery fear shot through him, but he quickly squelched it.
For two years he’d tried to forget her, tried to convince himself his corny love-at-first-sight experience had been merely new student jitters. But with Sadie standing mere feet from him, all those feelings boomeranged back with a vengeance. Gorgeous and interesting women on the studio lot and elsewhere regularly attempted to chat him up, but he’d never felt the kind of pull he felt with Sadie. The aching desire, the longing to protect and cherish her, was almost more than he could bear.
And wasn’t it some type of fate that Sadie had appeared in this room just at this moment? Either way, three dates with the woman who’d soundly rejected his every offer of friendship, let alone romance, would soon be his. Three dates with the woman whose beauty, talent, and kindness toward everyone not named Grant Mason made her the star of every room she entered. Three dates with the woman who’d upended his heart simply by walking into his field of vision six years ago—and who’d upended it all over again by delivering him a sandwich.
Three perfect dates to make her his.