The next few hours pass in a whirlwind of pampering and primping that I imagine would make even the most seasoned celebrity feel overwhelmed. If I wasn’t so relaxed from my massage, I’d be chomping at the bit to take a running leap out of the window.
First, Leeza settles me into a plush chair facing said window with the incredible view of the Hollywood Hills and works her magic on my face, applying products I’ve never heard of with brushes so soft they feel like feathers against my skin.
“You have beautiful features,” she murmurs, tilting my chin up to catch the light. “Those lips, those eyes... Don’t worry,” she laughs lightly as I feel the blood drain from my face. “We’re just going to enhance what you already have.”
I try my best not to fidget as she transforms my face with expert precision, creating a smoky eye that makes the green of my irises pop. It’s strange seeing myself slowly morph into someone who looks like she’s worthy of walking down a red carpet. Even though I feel anything but.
Meanwhile, Ava circles like a stylish shark, occasionally holding up dresses and muttering to herself about “shapes” and “colors,” while her assistants scurry around, steaming garments, arranging shoes and setting accessories out on velvet trays.
And when Ava and Leeza finally turn me around to face the mirror? I barely recognize myself.
forty-six
Despite knowingJavier is as gay as can be, it still has my skin itching a little in annoyance knowing another man’s hands were all over Lizzy. What makes it even sillier is that I’ve known Javier for a few years and he’s become a pretty good friend. I trust him.
“Is it just me, or has this thing with you and Lizzy come out of nowhere?”
I shoot him a glance over my shoulder as I shove the leftover pizza into the fridge and grab a couple of beers.
“Not really,” I shrug, sliding one across the counter. “I’ve known her since we were kids. We grew up together.”
Javier raises one eyebrow as he leans against the counter. “You know that’s not what I meant. I’m talking about the crazy intensity between you two. The way you look at her...”
“That obvious, huh?” I ask, rubbing the back of my neck.
“Only to everyone with functioning eyeballs,” he laughs, reaching for his bottle. “You’ve never brought a woman home before. At least not one you weren’t actively filming with, just running lines.”
He’s right. I’ve kept this place as my sanctuary, my escape from all the Hollywood bullshit. Even when I was dating someone, I preferred going to their place or meeting up at hotels. Other than Carrie, having another woman in my space always felt… wrong.
Until Lizzy.
“She’s different,” I admit with a sigh. “Always has been.”
“Well, that much is clear,” Javier says with a knowing smile. “Just be careful, okay? When you look at her—like she’s a motherfucking reservoir and you’re dying of thirst—it makes it hard to believe all this is just for show. At least to those of us who know you and what’s really going on.”
I tense up. “What do you mean?”
“Dude,” he says gently. “Have you not checked the tabloids the last couple of days? People are talking about how your relationship is fake. Ava told me on the way over.”
“Fuck.” I drag a hand down my face, giving him a look that has him standing up straight.
“It’s not, is it?”
“Yes and no,” I say, dropping my voice. “It was supposed to be a publicity stunt, but now...”
I trail off, not sure how to explain the tangled mess of feelings I have for Lizzy. How do I tell him I’ve loved her ever since I can remember? Maybe even my whole life? That I’ve spent years trying to get over her, only to realize the moment I saw her again that I never would?
“Now it’s real.” His expression softens as he finishes for me. “At least for you.”
Unable to deny it, I nod. “Yeah.”
“Does she know how you feel?”
“I think she’s starting to,” I admit.
He lets out a low whistle and grins. “Man, you’re in deep.”
“Tell me about it,” I mutter, taking a long draw of my beer.
