Just about bursting with smiles, Jac made short work of the introductions, telling Paul about Dawn’s stunt work and how she wanted to get Dawn on staff.
Was Jac just starstruck or was there some crushing going on here?
Dawn shifted around, refusing Paul’s cocktail offer. Jac took him up on it though, inspecting the red liquid in the martini glass before testing it.
“What is it?” she asked.
Paul sipped at the one Dawn had rejected. “Death by Sangria. Damned if I know what’s in it, but it’s supposed to be the same old classic with a twist.”
“Mmm.” Jac laughed and stopped drinking. “Good. Dawn, you sure you don’t want one?”
“I don’t drink, really.” Frank had sworn her off booze.
“Well, I’ll be…” Ever the social sentinel, Paul was watching the foyer and raising a welcoming hand to a well-known producer who’d just sauntered in. “There’s Robert, so don’t mind me while I pay homage. I’ll see you girls later?”
“Definitely,” Jac said.
Paul leaned in close to both of them. “Here’s a tip. If anyone offers you a tour of the place, say no. We’ve already had one incident tonight with an anonymous supporting actress, a horny director who shall go unnamed, and a secret room behind the fireplace. Beware of these old houses, ladies.”
He winked and rushed off, Jac’s gaze trailing him.
Dawn got her attention. “Please don’t tell me you’re—”
“No. Oh, heck, no. It’s just…I’m working with him, Dawn. I watched him on Co-Ed Nights when I was a teenager.” She lifted her glass, but then lowered it when she caught something from across the room. “Oops—nine o’clock. Someone’s checking you out.”
Okay, it was beyond Dawn’s power to resist, especially when she was surrounded by all these reminders of how she’d had to compete with Eva day in and day out. Yup, the old resentment was back and flourishing, so if a man was looking at Dawn and not Jac from across a room, that was a small victory. Disgusting, but pitifully true.
She glanced over and, what do you know. A typical pretty boy was indeed giving her the once over. But when he realized he had her attention, his gaze predictably shifted to the girl next to her.
Eva was winning again, even if she wasn’t actually here….
“Go get him,” Dawn said to Jac, fixing her attention elsewhere.
“No, that boy likes you. I can tell.”
“Forget it.”
Dawn saw a chest full of iced bottled water near a couch, so she went over to it. As she grabbed one, she tuned in to a conversation between two industry types sitting nearby.
The woman had a streak of white dust under her nose and was waxing on about how Hollywood would always be “in the know.” They weren’t irrelevant at all, she kept saying, gesturing madly. Fuck the red states. Fuck the conservative press.
Dawn unscrewed her water and took a sip, hiding a laugh.
Jac was laughing, too, casting Dawn a knowing glance as she guided her outside, where it was much quieter. Jungle plants hovered over a glowing blue pool. Two women were skinny-dipping, watched over by a group of appreciative men discretely smoking weed.
“So how’s work going?” Jac said, turning her back on the scene and taking the opportunity to make a can-you-believe-these-people face.
“Work is work. PI stuff. Top secret. All that.”
“It sounds exciting.”
“Not so much.” Dawn took another drink. “Detecting involves lots of waiting around and running into barriers. And my boss…” She shook her head. “He’s…”
Whoa. Time to shut up.
“He’s what?” Jac seemed ecstatic that Dawn was actually communicating.
Suddenly, Dawn wondered if she was actually a project for this girl. Some people were like that—they gravitated toward fixer-uppers. It drove them, just like fearful bitterness seemed to drive Dawn most of the time.
“My boss is uncommunicative,” she settled on saying. It didn’t give anything up. “He kills me.”
“Aw, just let go of it. Negative feelings suck. Life is so much easier without them.”
“Is it?”
“Yeah, all the bad medicine you take in?” Jac made a dismissive motion, graceful, balletic even. “Who needs it?”
I do, thought Dawn.
Jac touched her arm, spreading a ray of comfort through Dawn’s skin. Still, she couldn’t help shirking away.
“Sorry,” Jac said.
Dawn tried to make like she didn’t know what the other girl meant.
“No, I am.” The starlet tucked a strand of blond hair behind her ear. “I’m sorry I look like her. I’m sorry I make you squirm.”
What was there to say? Dawn took another quaff just to have something to do.
“Can I ask?” Jac said. “What was she like, your mom?”
Shit. “I don’t know. She died when I was about a month old. I was raised by my dad because she wasn’t around.”
“You say that like she meant to abandon you.”
Dawn gripped her bottle. “She didn’t. Abandon me, that is. She’s always managed to be with me.”
Knowing she should be marking the other girl’s reactions, Dawn locked eyes with her, but Jac only seemed confused.
“What do you mean?”