Holly Hearts Hollywood (24 page)

March 12
^th
, 1:30am—The Plaza Hotel

I can’t like him. I can’t. I know! I’ll make a list. My mom always says that when you like someone you should like his or her faults as well.

GRAYSON’S FAULTS:

1.
He’s kind of full of himself, but he seems genuinely confident. He’s not in your face about it. I actually admire him for it.

2.
He’s violent! He threatened to punch one of the paparazzi, but I guess he was doing it to protect me. So, it’s kind of chivalrous.

3.
He’s kind of oblivious to things that are going on around him. It’s totally adorable.

Darn it. I’m running out of steam with this list.

4.
Oh! I heard him make a mean joke once, which is
so
not okay. It was a pretty funny joke though…

Shit. I like him.

How could this happen to me? How did these emotions sneak up on me? Is it always like this? This sneaky, I mean. Not to mention that he’s dating Lacey. I can’t have feelings for him! It’ll make things even more complicated than they already are.

There. It’s decided. I don’t like him. I
won’t
like him.

Later, 2:30am—The Plaza Hotel

Lacey is my friend! I never thought I’d say this, but she’s one of my best friends. I care about her, and I know she cares about me, despite some of the stupid things she says and does. I can’t fall for her boyfriend! No, that’s not okay. Not even a little bit. She really likes him.

But I like him more, don’t I? What’s wrong with me? I have a crush on Keller, don’t I? Are you allowed to have a crush on two people?

March 12
^th
9:30am—The Plaza Hotel

Well, that didn’t work too well. The not-liking-Grayson thing, I mean. I knew it the moment I woke up, and the feeling was confirmed when I went into Lacey’s room for breakfast and saw him there, buttery Pop-Tart in hand. My heart practically stopped beating.

“Good morning,” he said in what seemed like a knowing tone. I stopped in my tracks, worried he could read my mind, but he returned to his Pop-Tart like it was the only thing in the universe. Lacey was lounging on a floral-patterned couch. She was crocheting furiously. The single crochet hook flew through the pale yellow yarn at an impressive speed.

“Did you have a nice time last night?” she asked in a strangely uninterested tone of voice. She looked up at me, but her hands kept flying and more rows of butter-yellow granny squares appeared in her hands as she looped the yarn blindly.

“Um, yeah. It was fun,” I said. My throat felt raw and sandy.

“I heard you had a run-in with the paps,” she added. She never looked away from the hook and yarn. For whatever reason, it sounded like she was mad at me. I can’t explain it, but her voice was weirdly flat.

“Yeah, they were pretty aggressive.”

Lacey looked up at me, her hands never stopping.

“Grayson took care of you, though. That’s pretty cool.”

I looked over at Grayson, who didn’t seem aware of us talking about him. He’d started on the strawberry Danishes.

“I guess it was,” I said, unsure of what to say or how to say it. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say Lacey sounded a little territorial.

Lacey nodded, and a piece of her golden hair fell out of its ponytail and in front of her eyes. She blew the strand away and kept moving the yarn industriously.

“Of course,” she said. She dropped a stitch and cursed as she unraveled the square and started over. “It’s always hot when a guy stands up for someone.”

I nodded and said nothing. I didn’t want to verbally admit to her boyfriend’s hotness.

“Is he ever
not
hungry?” I asked, changing the subject. The last thing I needed to do was accidently blab about my fantasies of Grayson rescuing me from dragons, pirates, wild hyenas, and the like. It’s not like I
need
to be rescued or anything. I believe all of the usual feminist stuff: I don’t need a man to be happy, I’m a strong woman, and I’m not a damsel in distress. But, I’m still having trouble genuinely believing this stuff for myself. I’m sure it’s great for people like my mom and whatnot. My mom is kind of hot, and guys always pay attention to her, despite the Birkenstocks. It’s easy enough to say you don’t need a man when you look like Demi Moore. “He ate a whole box of Pop-Tarts,” I added.

Lacey shrugged.

“He’s a growing boy.” She looked over at him. “Hey, Grayson!”

Grayson looked up from his plate, looking like he’d forgotten we were in the room. It was super-adorable.

“What, babe?” My heart actually hurt a little to hear that.

“You said you had a surprise earlier, what gives?”

Grayson’s eyes brightened, and he smiled a big, breakfast pastry-filled smile.

“Oh, yeah!” He swallowed, got up, and ran out the hotel room with the anticipation of a kid on Christmas morning.

“I don’t like surprises,” I mumbled, and Lacey laughed good-naturedly. No one ever believes me when I say I don’t like surprises. Surprises are rarely as exciting as people make them out to be; and when they are surprising, they aren’t always a wanted one.

Lacey held her crotchet project at arm’s length and examined it. “What do you think?” she asked.

“What’s it going to be?”

“A baby blanket for my old friend Callie. She got knocked up at a Labor Day barbeque,” Lacey said seriously. She looked at me critically. “You know, if I were you, and Grayson stuck up for me like that, I’d totally have a crush on him.”

My tongue shriveled up in my mouth. It was as dry as the Sahara desert. “Well, you’re already dating him,” I choked out. The sudden and complete lack of saliva in my mouth made it hard to say anything.

Lacey glowed. “I know,” she said triumphantly. “It’s good to remember that. I don’t want you getting any ideas,” she said jokingly, but I didn’t trust the glimmer in her eyes. It might’ve been my paranoia at work, but she looked serious.

I was trying to form some kind of response when Grayson came barreling back into the room with an armful of magazines. Lacey didn’t even blink an eye at his entrance and returned to her blanket.

“What are those?” Lacey asked.

Grayson grinned and held out one of the magazines to her victoriously. Lacey took the magazine from him. She glanced at it briefly and wrinkled her nose.

“This is an issue of
GQ
. Why didn’t you get me a copy of
Cosmo
or something with pictures of me in it?”

Grayson didn’t drop his smile, but he rolled his eyes. “Look a little closer at the cover, Lace.”

Lacey rolled her eyes as well and looked back at the cover. “Oh my God,” she squealed. “
You’re
on the cover!” She grabbed the magazine and smacked Grayson on the hip with it. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Grayson laughed and dodged Lacey’s second swing.

“I wanted to surprise you.”

Lacey stopped trying to bruise Grayson with the magazine and opened it hungrily.

“What page are you on?” she asked as she pawed through the pages. Grayson leaned over and turned to the correct one for her. “You look
so
hot,” she purred.

Grayson handed me one of the magazines. “Check it out, Holls. I don’t look bad, if I do say so myself.”

I looked down at the magazine in my hands, and I could feel myself blushing. The photo on the cover featured Grayson in a shiny, gray suit like the one Cary Grant wears in
North by Northwest
. His tie was undone and hung around his shoulders casually, the white dress shirt underneath unbuttoned at the top. Grayson’s hands were gripping the top of his shirt, and he looked like he was about to tear it open. His eyes were looking right into the camera with a smoldering expression.

“Here. It’s on page thirty-seven,” Grayson said, leaning across me and turning to the article.

It was nothing but eye-candy for the next four pages. The photos featured Grayson lounging on the deck of a yacht and riding down a hill on a white stallion with his shirt unbuttoned and billowing in the wind. In the next one, he was covered in grease and sweat as he smashed the windshield of a beat-up car in a junkyard. The only fully-clothed one was a photo of him standing knee-deep in the ocean…wearing a three-piece suit.

After I recovered from the shock of seeing so many sexy photos of Grayson doing ridiculous things in barely any clothing, I read the article. I’ll tape part of it in here:

More than Just a Pretty Face

By Terry Cruze

I met Grayson at a Beverly Hills coffee shop on a mild autumn day. He arrived promptly, wearing a Paul Smith velvet jacket, a True Religion t-shirt, slim-fitting Seven jeans, and Prada loafers. “Nice to meet you,” he said pleasantly as he took his seat. Although Grayson Frost is only seventeen, he has a demeanor beyond his years. He holds himself with a level of maturity and class that is more suited for classic stars like Cary Grant and Frank Sinatra then a country star in modern America. “Have you ordered yet?” he asked me. “The lattes here are very good.”

When our coffees arrive, Grayson opens two packages of Raw sugar and sprinkles it on top of the foamy latte. He takes a sip and smiles at me. “I’m feeling more human now that I’ve had some coffee.” I laugh and say, “Mind if I ask you some questions now that you’re feeling more like yourself?” Grayson brushed some of his trademark hair out of his eyes as he nodded.

Q: American males are wondering: what’s it like to be Grayson Frost, the man who has everything?

A: (Laughs) I wouldn’t say that. I’m very lucky, I know that. I try to enjoy everything life and luck have given me.

Q: It can’t all be luck though, can it? A Grammy Award at fifteen years old isn’t luck; it comes from talent.

A: I guess you could say that. All I know is that I am doing what comes naturally to me. To all of those who envy me and my life, let me just say it isn’t as easy as it looks. I wouldn’t trade it for anything, but it can cause a lot of headaches.

Q: You are about to go on national tour with your girlfriend, rising star Lacey Bennett, and men are even more envious of you as a result. How does it feel to be America’s “It” couple?

A: I never thought of us as an “It” couple. We have a good time together, and Lacey is fun to be around. She’s so different than me, and she really challenges me to broaden my horizons.

Q: Is it love, then?

A: (Laughs) We’ve only been dating for a little while.

Q: But long enough to go on the road together for weeks.

A: Whoa, Spanish Inquisition, much? (Laughs) What can I say? I like to fly by the seat of my pants. That’s how I ended up getting involved with the Humane Society.

Q: Yes, you are heavily involved with that charity, and you’ve adopted many rescue animals of your own. What made you interested in animal rescue in the first place?

A: Shortly after my family and I moved to LA, I saw a lot of hurting animals. In particular, this one-eyed kitten started to come around the apartment we were living in at the time, and my heart just broke. I’m not a soft-hearted guy by nature, or at least I like to pretend I’m not, but there’s something about these hurt, neglected animals that really gets to me. Animals can’t ask for help; they can’t tell someone they’re hungry or being abused. An abused dog still craves its owner’s approval and love, no matter how much the dog is kicked and punched. That kind of unconditional love is admirable, and humans could learn a lot from these poor creatures. I’m actually planning on holding a charity gala for the Humane Society sometime next year.

There was a lot more, but this was one of my favorite parts. Lacey was pissed that he talked about the Humane Society more than he talked about their relationship. In fact, her exact words were: “I can’t believe you talked about those stupid animals more than
me!
” To which Grayson roared, “Don’t call them stupid!” and they went off on each other all over again. She was also mad at his answer when the reporter asked if he loved Lacey. I snuck back into my room as Grayson tried to calm her down.

It’s stupid, I know, but I ripped out Grayson’s photos from the magazine and put them in my purse. I know I could’ve kept the magazine and looked at the photos later, but I didn’t want to be obvious and display the magazine on a bookshelf or something.

The pictures are kind of burning a hole in my bag. It’s like evidence that I’m hiding my feelings for him. It’s such a fan girl move. It’s a good thing I hate making collages.

THINGS TO DO:

1.
Stop thinking about Grayson romantically.

2.
Stop eavesdropping on other people’s conversations.

3.
Take pictures of Grayson out of purse and throw away.

4.
Take nap before late-night taping.

Later, 1:30pm—The Plaza Hotel

My little adventure with the paparazzi made the news. My phone suddenly exploded with text messages and voicemails. I’m surprised my phone didn’t combust from the attention. I was ignoring all calls, including ones from my mom, until I saw Keller’s name come on the screen. I was immediately worried and excited. I thought maybe he had a sixth sense and could feel that I had fallen for Grayson. But, at the same time, I thought perhaps talking to him would calm me down and restore my sanity.