Love in La La Land Page 9

‘Hmm?’ Jack raised a quizzical eyebrow.

  ‘I could do with getting just a few more undies, and perhaps something casual. All I’ve got is this dress, and the few shirts that I’ve been wearing with my business suit to pitch to studios. I could do with another pair of jeans and a couple of T-shirts.’ She didn’t add that she needed something more appropriate to wear at Scott’s, although quite what one wore at a film star’s house she didn’t quite know. Fingers crossed, she would spot something.

  ‘Right, milady. Shopping it is. Every chauffeur worth his salt knows suitable fashion emporiums.’

  ‘Shouldn’t that be emporia?’ said Jane with a wicked gleam.

  ‘Actually, in America I think it’s pronounced mall.’

  With a hoot of laughter, Jane settled back in the neat bucket seat as he sped away. When they bantered, his eyes crinkled, losing their hard edge, and the sardonic twist to his mouth disappeared.

  ‘And no expensive shops,’ she warned. ‘I have seen that film, Pretty Woman, where Julia Roberts spends an obscene amount of money. Well, this girl’s on a strict budget.’

  ‘Yes, ma’am, whatever you say, ma’am.’

  Jane could see his mind was racing. She supposed it wasn’t that easy for him to think of somewhere inexpensive. He presumably took all the women he knew to exclusive boutiques. Perhaps, like Richard Gere in the film, he paid to fill their wardrobes with costly outfits.

  Well, at some point she must make it quite clear that there was no way he was paying for her, which meant they must find somewhere inexpensive.

  ‘I know, let’s try Wal-Mart,’ she blurted out, inspired.

  Jack gasped, then roared with laughter.

  ‘I’ve heard of it in books and the movies, but have never been in one,’ Jane continued enthusiastically.

  ‘You and me both. And where do you suppose I might find such an emporium in…er…Hollywood?’

  ‘Um…?’

  ‘Look around you, Miss Jones. Do you suppose that this area is their usual customer base?’

  She looked around as they drove past expensively manicured lawns leading to Gone with the Wind-style mansions with their vast verandas. Others were elegant, long, low houses, peeking through concealing shrubberies, while one or two had high adobe walls with forbidding security gates. She gazed at the wide, palm-fringed boulevards and the sleek, dark-windowed cars.

  She giggled. ‘I suppose not.’

  ‘But I think I know just the place for you. It might seem pricey, but the owner is an old friend of mine and will give you a good discount if you mention my name.’

  ‘OK, I bow to your superior knowledge.’

  ‘That makes a very nice change.’

  Jane smiled and nestled back into the car seat. The day was perfect. A slight haze over the sun kept it from being too hot and too bright. It was all too wonderful for words.

  There was a companionable silence between them, and she saw Jack glance at her and smile. She felt excited, yet strangely protected, in the company of this surprising man.

  ‘This is so nice.’

  ‘Nice?’ Jack teased. ‘Can’t a superior lady novelist think of a better word than “nice”?’

  ‘Nope. I’m off duty and just enjoying being out in the fresh air. I’m not too hot, because of the breeze; I’m not too cold, because there’s no freezing air conditioning. I’m just right. This is a Goldilocks moment.’

  Jack grinned.

  ‘But,’ Jane continued, ‘seeing as you are my self-appointed chauffeur at the moment, could you please tell me where we are and any interesting sights we’re passing?’

  Jack looked surprised. ‘I thought you’d have done loads of sight-seeing if you have already been here a week.’

  ‘Nope, nothing,’ Jane groaned. ‘It has been the most stupendously wasted week of my life. It’s vital I sell this second book. It’s the only reason I came, and it’s cost so much to be here. I could scream in frustration.’

  She gave an angry sigh, before flaring up in indignation again.

  ‘Do you know, I have spent the entire week hanging around in studio executives’ outer offices, in the vain hope that someone might actually turn up for the planned appointment. They all said they were excited and wanted to see us, and excited by my book and excited about optioning it. But saying it and actually meeting us to discuss it, seemed to be poles apart. Why say it if you don’t mean it?’ She shook her head in exasperated wonder.

  ‘Look, I’m not daft. I can understand that we were only going to see minnows, as all the important people were probably busy. But no-one, and I mean no-one ever turned up. They never even appeared to apologise, they just kept us hanging around all day. All bloomin’ day!’

  Jack nodded his head as if he could well believe it.

  With suppressed rage, Jane continued, ‘In the end, I took a novel with me and just curled up on one of their fancy sofas and read. Brian, my agent, wasn’t happy with that; he said it gave the wrong impression. It looked as if I didn’t care. You were supposed to sit there all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and tremendously excited, waiting for them to appear. But I said, how do they know I’m not sitting here, all full of bright enthusiasm, when they never even have the bloomin’ courtesy to pop their heads round the bloomin’ door. Not even to apologise for the delay or for missing actual confirmed appointments. I never saw anyone, anyone, all bloomin’ week.’ Her eyes blazed with anger. ‘How rude to treat people like that.’

  Jack nodded in sympathy. ‘Yes, I’ve been there, in my early days. Obviously, it bolsters the frail egos of minor executives to keep a room full of people waiting to see them. I suppose I’ve seen it so much I’ve got used to it. But now you mention it, I do remember how it used to stick in my craw as well.’

  Jane seethed. ‘At one point, I was so frustrated and annoyed by the absolute rudeness of the system that I marched into one of them to remind them of our planned appointment, and they threatened to call security.’ She suppressed a giggle as she remembered the fuss she had caused.

  ‘Anyway, I think Brian felt so guilty about all the expense and everything, that’s why he managed to pull strings for me to visit the film set. Which was wonderful of him.’

  There was a pause while she contemplated all the events that had happened as a result of that fateful visit to the set. But the anger hadn’t quite left her.

  ‘When I think of all the things I could have been seeing, could have been doing… I had such high hopes. Having my first book made into a film has been brilliant financially, so—’

  ‘Even with a crap film script like the one I’ve written.’ Jack’s tone was no longer teasing.

  Jane went pink, and turned to him, ‘Confession time. I have never actually read your script.’

  ‘What!’ he roared.

  ‘I know. I know. I’m suitably ashamed. I just got the synopsis and an overview of the various changes in location, characters, and stuff from my agent…and, well… I’m sorry. I think I was still feeling disgruntled about the whole system, and you bore the brunt of it.’

  ‘That’s honest of you.’ Digesting her words seemed to make Jack feel better. ‘So, your criticisms weren’t founded on my actual adaptation and script?’

  ‘No, I’m sorry. In fact, I would love to read it,’ Jane said humbly.

  ‘Is that just the guilts talking again?’

  Jane nodded contritely. ‘Partly, but actually I found some of it at Scott’s and read it. And OK, more confession time…I thought it was good and I wanted to read more.’

  ‘Wow, big admission for Miss High-and-Mighty Novelist.’

  Jane felt herself flush.

  ‘Sorry,’ Jack smiled. ‘That was a bit mean of me. But you have to agree, you gave me a pretty hard time when we first met.’

  ‘Yup, and you have repaid me in the worst way you could.’

  ‘What?’ Jack looked startled.

  ‘By being unfailingly nice and helpful and kind, and my knight in shining armour at every opportuni
ty. So, I couldn’t possibly feel any worse.’

  She meant it.

  Jack glanced at her. ‘OK then, shall we call a truce?’

  ‘Oh, yes please, Mr Shining Knight.’ Jane fluttered her eyelashes and simpered up into his warm brown eyes.

  ‘That’s quite enough of that.’ He grinned. ‘You are not a good enough actress to carry off that sugary-sweet expression.’

  Just then, he pulled up outside a smart boutique with just one elegant mannequin in the window. ‘Here we are. The emporium of which we spoke.’

  Jane eyed it dubiously. It looked expensive.

  ‘Do you want me to come in with you?’ he offered.

  Jane was shocked. ‘No, I’m quite capable of popping in for a few items myself, thank you.’ Besides, she would be totally embarrassed trying anything on in front of Jack.

  ‘OK.’ He shrugged. ‘It shouldn’t be too pricey, but if it is…’ He reached for his wallet.

  Jane glared at him. ‘I hope you’re not going to insult me by offering to pay or…well…anything.’ She leapt out of the car and stalked off to the store before he could say any more. Her stalk would have been even haughtier if it hadn’t been hampered by the height of her heels, which caused her to trip slightly.

  ‘And get yourself some new shoes while you are in there,’ he called after her, and was rewarded by yet another fierce stare.

  Jack had to smile. In fact, he realised he had been smiling since the moment he had picked her up at Scott’s house.

  He quickly tapped a number into his phone.

  ‘Mimi? Don’t mention my name, whatever you do. It’s Jack. I’m parked just outside your boutique, but don’t look or wave.’

  ‘Hi, darling. It’s sure good to hear from you. How can I help you, sugar?’ Mimi’s familiar southern drawl poured like honey down the line.

  ‘Mimi, can I ask a favour? You see the gorgeous redhead who has just come into your boutique? Well, can you somehow give her massive discounts on anything she wants and I will pick up the tab later?’

  ‘Sure, darling. Anything for you.’

  ‘And Mimi…she’s very intelligent, and very proud, and mustn’t suspect anything. So, make it sound good.’

  ‘Sure thing, honey.’

  A smiling Jane emerged much later, waving a cheery goodbye to Mimi, carrying a lot of bags…and wearing different sandals.

  ‘She was so nice,’ Jane enthused as she got into the car, ‘and a bit persuasive, so I bought far more than I should have done. But she was just starting her end-of-season-sale so it wasn’t as expensive as I thought it would be. Although…well, I really shouldn’t…but, what the hell, I decided to treat myself.’

  ‘Good,’ said Jack smoothly, as he pulled away from the kerb.

  ‘Anyway, while we were chatting, she found out I knew you, so asked me to say hi.’ Jane paused, ‘Apparently she knew your mum.’

  She saw Jack’s jaw tighten.

  ‘You didn’t tell me your mum was Rose Clancy, the film star. I should have connected the name, I suppose.’

  Jack swung across the traffic. She noticed his hand go up to unconsciously touch the scar above his left eyebrow as he frowned.

  Before she could explore the subject further, he said abruptly, ‘Do you fancy a bite to eat? As we have a truce in operation, I suppose we ought to make the most of it. I know a good place for lunch – no stars, no paps, just good food and a great view of the ocean. How does that sound?’

  ‘Wow, that sounds wonderful. Oops, sorry…nice. Yes, I would love that. And you never know, I might even be nice about your screenplay.’

  She was rewarded by the unfurrowing of Jack’s forehead and one of his devastating smiles.

  But, even though he hadn’t said anything, she had definitely got the hint that any conversation about his mother was not welcome. Certainly, Mimi had warned her that was the case.

  Learning that the elegant tawny-blonde was a friend of Jack’s, Jane had used it as an opportunity to discover a little more about him. Her subtle interrogation had found out that: no, Jack wasn’t married; no, not divorced either; and no, Mimi was pretty sure there was no woman in his life at the moment.

  Jane wasn’t sure whether Mimi had been smiling at this point. Perhaps her questioning hadn’t been as subtle as she’d thought.

  But when Jane had enquired more about Jack’s mum, Mimi had clamped shut.

  ‘Look, honey, I probably shouldn’t have told you about his mother at all, and I’m sure not telling you anything else. Jack keeps his personal life real private. He hates all the gossip and scandal-mongering around this town. Doesn’t let anyone close enough to find out what he’s really thinking.

  ‘Don’t get me wrong, he’s a good man; a very good man.’ Mimi paused and looked straight at Jane with her honey-brown eyes. ‘I’d trust him with my life, I really would. But, he’s very private indeed. Never opens up his real deep-down feelings, even to me. Unlike most folk in this town, he hates talking about himself. So, my advice is, don’t even try. He’ll only clam up and change the subject.’

  It seemed Mimi was right.

  Which just made him more intriguing…and increased Jane’s determination to delve beneath the shutters and find out just what made this fascinating man tick.

  Chapter Eight

  Their simple wooden table overlooked a sun-drenched beach, with the sapphire blue fringe of the Pacific Ocean providing a picture postcard backdrop. It was exactly how Jane had dreamt California might be. It was idyllic.

  When they arrived, Jack had scanned the restaurant with keen eyes before reassuring her, and himself, that the other diners were engrossed in their own lives and conversations and not likely to notice them. This seemed to be important, and enabled him to relax as they laughed and argued good-naturedly.

  ‘By the way, Jane, I loved the outrageous character of the mother in your book and so did Merle, which is why she agreed to play her. But more confession time,’ he said, as he watched Jane wrestle semi-successfully with a crab claw. ‘I have a feeling it was modelled on someone. Was it?’

  Jane, concentrating fiercely on the task in hand, gave a horrified groan. Oh dear, she was going to have to reveal a family secret. Slowly, she rinsed her fingers in the small water bowl provided. The crab claw could wait, and anyway, she knew she was in imminent danger of flicking crab parts everywhere. Not a good look in front of a Hollywood hunk, she told herself.

  ‘Yup, it sure was.’

  ‘Oh, surely not your mother?’ gasped Jack.

  Jane laughed. ‘Oh no, thank goodness. My mum is a sweetie, but only because she escaped the clutches of…’ she paused for dramatic effect, ‘the dreaded Nonna.’

  Jack looked puzzled.

  She grinned. ‘I have an Italian grandmother, Nonna, who—’

  ‘Italian! Jack burst in incredulously. ‘You…Italian?’

  Although Jane had experienced this reaction before, the expression on Jack’s face caused her to hesitate, uncertain of how to continue. He sounded somehow…dismayed.

  ‘Er, yes,’ she stammered. ‘My mum is Italian. Oh, I know you would never guess from my appearance but Mum is a vibrant, petite, raven-haired beauty, and I’m…well, not.’

  Jack seemed about to protest so she continued rapidly, ‘No, as you can see, I take after my father, who is English, well, half Scottish on his mother’s side. He’s tall and sandy-haired, and not at all, er…continental in manner or appearance. So, all in all, I’m a bit of a mongrel.’

  ‘Aren’t we all?’ Jack said almost to himself. A shadow crossed his face and once again Jane noticed his fingers touch the narrow, jagged scar on his forehead. Then he shrugged. ‘So, to return to your grandmother…’

  ‘Yes, Nonna really is that outrageous. She is dominating, charmingly manipulative, and a marriage mercenary; a real, live, old-fashioned gold-digger. She is also very carefully beautiful and has married her way up the social classes, so she is now a Contessa and lives in a grand, if crumbling, palazzo in
Rome, with a decrepit old man,’ Jane grinned wickedly, ‘who turned out to be not quite as rich as she thought he was.’

  ‘Does she really say all those appalling things?’

  ‘Oh yes, with aplomb.’ Jane couldn’t resist returning to the challenge presented by crab claws and, licking her fingers, she poked and prodded as she was talking. ‘I have invented one or two sayings, but most of them issue unreconstructed from her mouth. Obviously, her English is not as good as she thinks it is, so that accounts for some of the gaffes. But sometimes the whole family has to stuff hankies into their mouths to stop them laughing out loud. If ever one of us chokes to death, we would all know who was responsible.’

  ‘What a character!’ Jack looked amazed to hear that this larger-than-life person he had read with fascination, was actually real.

  ‘When we were little, we were all frightened of her,’ Jane continued. ‘She would sweep in and imperiously order us all about. She’s the reason we all have such outlandish names.’

  ‘Like Arabella, you mean?’ he teased gently.

  ‘Yup, and Anastasia, and Rosamunda, and Sylvana, and Pandora, and Valentina, and Miranda and—’

  ‘For goodness sake, how many of you are there?’

  ‘Seven.’

  ‘All girls?’

  Jane hesitated. The sudden squeeze on her heart took her by surprise with its intensity, even after all these years.

  Had Jack noticed her hesitation? But this wasn’t the time or the place to reveal those awful events that could still give her nightmares. Rapidly burying those dark memories, she looked down for a moment, just to give her time to banish her distress, then said brightly, ‘Yes. All girls. Seven sisters. It sounds like the title of a fairy-tale, doesn’t it?’

  She was used to the astonishment provoked by her family background. ‘My poor father, surrounded by all these women. Although, he loves it really.’

  Bending her head away from his penetrating gaze, she concentrated on winkling out the final mouthful of crab. Then washed it down with yet another glass of chilled Californian chardonnay.

  With relief, she turned to gaze out from the little restaurant. How lucky to be there; it really was heaven. The sun sparkled on the sea, creating little sea-pennies of moving light; the slight breeze wafted through her hair; and the handsome man opposite her was smiling one of his rare smiles which crinkled the corners of his eyes. Her heart gave an unexpected flutter. This relaxed man was a world away from the cynical man she had originally met, could it be only two days ago? Much warmer and funnier. She felt totally at ease in his company.