Eversea: A Love Story Part 3

"Andy. Jack. What's up?" Jack was on the phone as I came in through the back door, into the blessed air conditioning. I guessed he was talking to the agent he had told me about earlier.

He'd found a plain black t-s.h.i.+rt in Joey's room. It molded to his muscled frame a little snugger than when on my brother. It was devastating.

I sighed.

"What's up?" Jack's agent howled through the phone, causing Jack to pull it away from his head. He caught my eyes and mouthed "sorry".

I busied myself unpacking the groceries and separating out his money.

"What's Up?" Andy yelled again, clearly there was no need for speakerphone with this dude. "I'll tell you what's up. This is the most viral news story since Britney shaved her head, and you are nowhere. To. Be. Found."

"Yeah, look, sorry about that, it's just-"

"Sorry! Sorry?" Andy cut right over Jack's words. "Don't be sorry, Ace. It's f.u.c.king fantastic. Are you kidding me? My G.o.d, you should see it here, it's like the f.u.c.king eight days of Hanukkah and Christmas all rolled into one. The phone hasn't stopped. You are the number one search term on Google. Number One!"

I winced at his volume even from where I stood.

It seemed like Jack knew from prior experience not to interrupt Andy when he was on a roll.

Jack looked at me apologetically again.

I shrugged and went into the hall to see about eavesdropping out of sight. Andy's caustic personality continued to emanate from my kitchen. "It's f.u.c.king genius. Everyone's all like, where in the world is Jack Eversea? There's a bounty on your head, my man! It's like the celebrity version of Where's Waldo. We couldn't have planned this better, I'm telling you. So, where the f.u.c.k are you? Wait, I'm gonna drop pin you."

I heard a m.u.f.fled "Oh s.h.i.+t" from Jack and peeked around the corner to see him fumbling hastily with his phone. Presumably, to disable the locator app Andy was referring to. Milliseconds later, his shoulders sagged in relief.

Andy grunted as Jack brought the phone back to his ear. "s.h.i.+t, I don't see you on my map. Ok, where are you?"

"Andy, don't freak out, ok? I'm not telling you or anyone where I am right now." Jack held his breath.

"Oh, don't tell me, you're with a chick. You sly fox." Andy's lascivious chuckle made my hair stand on end and I ducked back as Jack glanced over in my direction. "I hope she's trustworthy coz right now the whole world is on your side. The poor, betrayed hero. Don't f.u.c.k that up for me, okay?

"Okay?" he yelled again when Jack didn't answer. "And you have until next Friday, then I want you in my office so we can go over your statement and calm the boys from Peak Entertainment the f.u.c.k down. You have a publicity contract to fulfill for them. With Audrey."

Jack took a deep breath, and I imagined him wincing as he delivered his next words. "Actually, Andy, I'll be gone for three weeks. I'll see you in time for the first event in that contract. Bye." He hung up on what sounded like Andy having a stroke, then clenched his fist hard and pounded on the kitchen counter.

I jumped.

He caught the movement and turned my way.

"Sorry. I'm so f.u.c.king-" he cleared his throat, "freaking frustrated. Since when did my life get so freaking out of control? It seems I have other people running every single aspect of it. Andy, Sheila; my publicist, the entertainment company that pretty much owns my soul right now with the third movie coming out, and Audrey, my supposed girlfriend, who even now is probably bribing my a.s.sistant Katie for my whereabouts. I didn't even tell Katie where I was going, and I probably trust her more than my own mother."

He ran both hands through his hair. He seemed unaware he was sharing all this stuff with me. "Katie has my credit card log in, I just pray she won't share it with Auds to figure out where I am." He quickly pounded out a text on his phone speaking the words aloud as he typed: "Do, not, try, and, find, out, or, tell, anyone, where, I, am, under, pain, of, being, fired, dash, will, be, back, in, three, weeks. There." Presumably that text was to Katie.

He looked like he wanted to throw the phone across the room.

I stood uncertainly, not really sure what to say. I noticed he had found some tools upstairs; there was a pry bar, a hammer, some gloves and a box cutter sitting on the counter. He saw where I was looking.

"Yeah, thought I'd start on the carpet," he said, his shoulders slumping a bit as he calmed down.

"Okay," I squeaked. "I'm painting the porch, see you in a bit."

If Jack was surprised at my sudden departure, I didn't see it, because I hightailed it out the front. The door banged shut behind me. If I were a different girl, I would have hung out and been a shoulder to cry on; teased out his problems, taken advantage of the situation to help him over his broken heart. No strings attached, of course.

Jazz's favorite advice for getting over someone was to get under someone else as soon as possible. Obviously, she wasn't doling out that advice to me, and hardly used it herself, but it sounded fun. And it may work for Jack. But I wasn't a different girl. I was Keri Ann Butler and I was only pa.s.sably pretty. While I was hardly insecure, I also knew that even if Jack Eversea was single and not a mega star, he was way out of my league. Then again, if he wasn't having relations.h.i.+p issues, he wouldn't have had to borrow a friend's beach house on the other side of the country to get away, and I would have never met him.

And who was I to pa.s.s judgment on Audrey Lane? It hadn't escaped my attention he had referred to her as his 'supposed girlfriend' earlier, but that sounded like they were more on a break than broken up. For all I knew, he was a ghastly boyfriend, and she had gone running and screaming into another man's arms. I shook my head and got to work on the porch.

Jack worked for hours.

I peeked in on him every now and again through the windows and he caught me spying twice. But much to my gratification, I did look up one time to catch him looking at me. Okay, maybe he was just looking out the window, I couldn't really tell.

He did the hall and the parlor, cutting the carpet into strips. He hauled and rolled each strip as he went, coming back for the underlay. There was dust everywhere. Years of it. Then he moved into the living room. At some point after he had most of the furniture in the living room moved into the parlor and the carpet had almost fully been removed, I came in and handed him a plate. PB&J with the crusts cut off, baby carrots and a bottle of water.

He stood up and smiled. I was sure I'd been about to say something but couldn't for the life of me remember what it was. He was sweating again so he rubbed his hands down his t-s.h.i.+rt, and then lifted it from his abdomen to use on his face.

I closed my eyes tight against the view and counted to three before I opened them.

He let the s.h.i.+rt fall back and gave me a funny look. He clearly knew I thought he was attractive and was obviously used to it, although I'd bet few tried to ignore it as much as I did.

My cheeks were hot again. Great.

"Thanks," he said, taking my offering.

"No problem." I backed toward the door, tripping on a tack strip still left behind on the floor. Klutz did not begin to describe me right now.

I cleared my throat, trying for nonchalance. "It's pretty dusty. I am eating on the porch." I nodded toward the window behind him that looked out the front of the house.

"I'll stay in, thanks."

He looked down at the plate, finally noticing my attempt at treating him like a toddler and burst out laughing.

S I X.

The floors in my house looked amazing. It was old pine that was soft and showed its age and character. They would have to be re-sanded and refinished, of course, and looked like they needed to be replaced in a few parts but Jack had been around every edge pulling or hammering down every single nail. I all but moaned in happiness imagining them with a gorgeous walnut stain.

I had agreed to give Jack a ride home and before we left I ducked into the hall bathroom. It would have been nice to say I was glowing, but anyone could see that was a crock. I smelled of mosquito-repellent, my face was bright red and s.h.i.+ny, and there were humid frizzies sticking up all over my head. That's what I got for avoiding Jack by staying outside all day. There was not a whole lot to be done. Running upstairs to shower would take too long and felt too vain. I was just going to pretend he was like Jazz or Jasper or Liz or any other of my other friends. I wouldn't make a special case for them, and Jack was just a friend. A friend who was rich, famous and so attractive he was actually hard to look at, but a friend nonetheless. I splashed cold water on my face and ran my fingers through my unruly hair, sc.r.a.ping it back and off my neck into a knot on my head.

"Thank you so much for the floors. They look amazing," I told Jack as we grabbed his groceries out of the fridge. He stopped and looked at me a moment, and taking in my frazzled appearance, grinned.

"What?" I asked, defensively.

He shook his head. "No problem. They're in great shape, just a few places to replace, but they look good." He mashed his cap on his head again and picked up the bags. "Tomorrow, I'll tackle wall paper. I'll go put these in the truck, see you out there."

I grabbed my keys and purse and followed him out while he apologized for "smelling rank". I kept my reaction to myself.

He glanced furtively around in his cap and dark gla.s.ses before sliding into the front seat and hunching down. I rolled my eyes.

I was hyper aware of him sitting next to me inside the cab as we drove, and pointedly stared ahead not wanting to catch his eye. I could have sworn he was looking at me, but I'd die before looking over. It was almost like any eye contact right now would suddenly make the moment way too intimate. There was just this current and energy around him all the time. It was like swimming endlessly, trying to keep my head above water.

I saw him swing his face forward again out of the corner of my eye, and he directed me down toward the beach plaza, and then down Magnolia Road.

I nonchalantly followed directions down the millionaires' row like I did it every day in my old jalopy. The good thing about being down here was that most of the houses sat empty except for the weekly renters at high season, so there was less chance of being noticed by nosy neighbors.

There were some stunning homes, all first row ocean. Some had seen better days, the land being worth more than anything that had been built prior to the real estate boom, and some were big, bra.s.sy monstrosities. But there were also a few low-key and truly elegant homes that had tried, with some success, to emulate the southern style. We pa.s.sed a tall hedge and turned into a small driveway that led to a house mostly hidden from the road. It was gorgeous; a simple but contemporary beach cottage raised off the ground, as most were, for flood codes, painted white with periwinkle blue shutters and huge baskets of pink hibiscus under each window. It was a slice of California right here in the Lowcountry.

"Wow, it's gorgeous," I said, hopping out. "So this friend of yours who owns the house is also an actor?"

I went around to open the tailgate for him and spotted a motorcycle, the same motorcycle with California plates from the day before, parked under a palmetto tree to the side of the house. Great, so I had also almost killed him. I paused a moment and looked up into the bright blue sky. If it wasn't so at odds with the reality of my everyday life, I'd say fate was literally throwing us together. Though I preferred the outcome of me being his grocery shopper to me side swiping him off his motorcycle. Either way, there were definitely some celestial hijinks being played.

"Yeah. Wait 'til you see the inside. Completely different." I followed him up the stairs and waited while he unlocked the door.

He stood aside to let me into the cool interior, a relief from the hot day.

"Wow!" It was like walking into a photographer's lightbox with a postcard of the ocean at one end. Squinting against the glare, my eyes were immediately drawn to the view outside the gla.s.s windows and doors that perfectly framed the bright blue sea beyond. Inside was an exercise in Zen minimalism gone awry. It was all was bright white, spa.r.s.e and modern with light from outside bouncing off every available surface. Although not my style, it was arresting and beautiful in it's own way. I liked things more comfy and distressed so I could imagine a whole history by just looking at them.

"You can see why I woke up at the crack of dawn, despite being on Pacific Time, right?"

I nodded. The sun rose on this side of the island. It must have been bright.

"I hope you have some blinds in your room."

"I do, but I stupidly didn't close them last night. You get sunsets, not sunrises in L.A.-it didn't occur to me. But it was pretty awesome to wake up to the sunrise and the beach and go running."

"It's low tide in the mornings this week so you must have had some good hard packed sand to run on. Awesome." I made a mental note to pick him up a tide chart next time I was out.

"You run?"

"A couple of times a week. I do some kayaking and paddleboarding in the marshes too, that's pretty big down here."

"Never tried it." Jack made his way over to the sleek modern kitchen with its stainless steel and miles of white marble surfaces.

"You should. When in Rome." I turned back to the living area and took in the white tiled floor and low slung couches.

"You come running with me one morning, and I'll go kayaking with you. You can give me an eco tourism lesson on sea turtles."

His suggestion surprised me. I didn't imagine him choosing to spend more time with me than was necessary. I turned to look at him as he unpacked the grocery bags. There was nothing behind the tone of that suggestion at all. It was so bland and innocuous, like just one of those things people say. Maybe it was his version of the Hollywood cla.s.sic "let's do lunch".

"Sure." What else did one say? Ask me again when you're serious?

"So you're working tonight again?" he asked, unpacking the groceries. He held up the salmon. "I think I accidentally got some of your stuff."

"No, that's for you. It's easy, just salt and pepper and bake at three-fifty for seventeen minutes. Simple, but delicious. And yeah, I start at five, so I need to get home and get showered."

I was starting to get uncomfortable again. Being in Jack's s.p.a.ce just did weird things to me.

"Easy for you to say. You lost me at salt." He smiled at my raised eyebrows. "I'm kidding." He paused a moment looking at me. "You want a quick tour before you go?"

"Uh. Sure."

He came around the counter, and I followed as he pointed out the various rooms and headed for the staircase.

"You know Devon Brown and Monica Black?" he asked. Did I know them? They were only a Hollywood power couple who'd been together since I was a kid. I nodded. I'd heard a rumor they were buying a place here, but thought nothing ever came of it.

"This is theirs. Their production company owns a piece of the Erath franchise, so I got to know them pretty well. Devon's a good guy and a good friend, he called me up after the Audrey stuff broke and offered me a place to get away. Thank G.o.d."

I nodded again, like we were just talking about regular people and he was a regular guy.

It was like walking around in a magazine spread, nothing out of place and not a knick knack or personal picture to be found. But it was beautifully built, I could see that.

"Why didn't you go home? Like to wherever your family is?" As I asked, I realized I knew absolutely nothing about where Jack was from. I wished I had Jazz's fan-based insight, so I wouldn't put my foot in my mouth or ask the wrong thing.

"Well, I don't have family here really. It was just my mother and me, anyway. I grew up in the UK until I was nine. Then moved to New York until I was done with school and moved out to L.A. to try my hand at movies. My mother moved back to England. She would kill me if I brought a trail of paparazzi to her door."

"You don't have an accent." I decided to avoid asking about his mom.

"Not anymore, but I can do one if I need to."

We got to the bedroom where Jack was clearly staying. There were huge French doors onto a Juliet balcony overlooking the view. I walked over to them, studiously avoiding the unmade king-sized bed with its white covers still pulled back and tried very hard not to think of him lying there sleeping. I wasn't very successful and felt my cheeks flush with warmth. It was becoming a hazard. The room smelled of him already. Something indefinably male and all Jack.

I pulled my attention back outside and looked down to see the sparkling blue of a lap pool set into a stone patio below us. It wouldn't be visible from the beach as the dunes would s.h.i.+eld it from prying eyes. In fact, with the foliage on either side of the property lines, it was extremely private. Perfect for famous occupants. It was funny how you could live in a town like Butler Cove for years and never see these places. I heard Jack clearing his throat behind me.

"Check out this bathroom, it's incredible." He made for the doorway in the side wall.

"It's the size of the bedroom!" There was a huge picture window capturing the same view and the white tub was in the middle of the room set in a sea of tumbled travertine. I looked up and saw that water fell from a faucet in the ceiling. Wow!

Suddenly, an unexpected image of Jack and I in the tub with water cascading over us flashed in my head. A bolt of pure heat lanced through me, robbing me of breath. Where had that come from? My cheeks were still burning with my reaction to his bedroom, and now this. This was way beyond feeling like a giddy groupie, and I was totally out of my depth. I had to pull myself together. I clamped my lips together and screwed my eyes closed for a moment.

"Are you ok?" I opened them at Jack's voice and saw in the mirror he was watching my reflection with what looked like a smug grin on his face. G.o.d, he must be so over this stupid reaction from hormone-fueled teenage fans. I turned away from him without comment and didn't realize how close he was. My arms had swung out a little away from my body and... oh the shame! I brushed against his groin. We both started.

"s.h.i.+t, sorry," I mumbled, my face puce in the reflection of the mirror. Gah.

Jack laughed. "Hey, no big deal. Although, I'm used to people buying me dinner before they cop a feel."

"Well, technically, I did," I shot back with a haughty tone that made Jack's smirk break free into a bellow of laughter that had me grinning like an idiot. It was a moment of complete abandon and watching him in it was breathtaking.

His eyes opened and I dropped mine, hastily.

"Should I expect you to be doing that again, then?" he asked, still amused.