Heartthrob (Hollywood Hearts, #1) Read online

  A small frown tugged the corners of her wide mouth. “In a pale color?”

  “What? You don’t like lilac?” I teased. I knew she loved purple, but there was a strategic reason behind my joking. I needed to know she trusted me.

  “It just doesn’t seem very . . . ” Her voice trailed off.

  I grinned at her. “Awards-worthy? That’s my point. You’re different to them, Lena. You’re all class and classic beauty. Your dress needs to reflect that. The lilac will go perfectly with your platinum hair. It will be a chiffon pleated gown, so loads of floaty material to play with, but then I’m going to add some beadwork. I plan to make you shine.” I took another sip of my drink, then added, “If you trust me.”

  Lena’s blue eyes sparkled in anticipation at my grand plans for the dress. “I trust you, Allegra.”

  “Ally.”

  “We’re talking about your designs, so it’s Allegra.”

  I resisted the urge to groan. “You say it like I’m rehearsing a role.”

  “You are, in a way.”

  “I didn’t realize I’d made a career change,” I said lightly.

  Lena leaned in close. “I trust you. Do you trust me?”

  “Of course I do,” I replied quickly. Her gaze turned dark in the dim light, like pools of water so deep you couldn’t see the bottom. I wasn’t sure where she was going with this.

  “Then trust me on this, Allegra. At first it will feel like you’re playing a role but after a while it will become the truth.”

  Her words took a second to sink in, but when they did I regarded her thoughtfully. “Is that what it feels like? When you’re acting?”

  She nodded once, a soft smile on her lips. “For a little while I become someone else.”

  That was true. Lena’s ability to transform herself seemed boundless.

  “But I’m not acting,” I said. “This is my life.”

  “All I’m suggesting is trying it for a while. See how it feels.”

  “Kind of like I’m auditioning for a role?”

  “If thinking about it that way makes sense to you.”

  Acting didn’t make sense to me, period. I was pretty sure I wasn’t capable of pretending to be someone I wasn’t. My big mouth wasn’t capable of it, anyway.

  As if reading my thoughts, Lena reached over and squeezed my arm reassuringly. “I’m not asking you to be someone you’re not. All I’m hoping you’ll do is live your dream for a little while.”

  I released a deep sigh and sat back in my chair. “Like everyone else in this town?”

  “You’re so cynical.” She held up a hand when I opened my mouth. “Which is why I love you and why I wanted you here. But everyone needs to believe in a little magic now and then.”

  “I’m glad you brought me here,” I admitted. I’d already told her about my sightseeing mission a couple of days before and how underwhelmed I’d been. In a fancy place like the Chateau Marmont it was easier to buy into some of that magic.

  “You just have to know where to look.” She nodded toward the bar area. “Personally I’d start in that direction.”

  I followed her gaze and felt my jaw drop. “Is that . . . ?”

  “Who? Leo? Yes, that’s him.” If I’d been looking at her I’d have seen her self-satisfied grin.

  I blinked several times to make sure I wasn’t seeing things. All of a sudden I knew how Arabella must have felt. I was pathetic. Utterly, unacceptably pathetic. But my jaw was still somewhere on the floor.

  Leonardo DiCaprio. My teenage crush. There he stood, all glorious six feet of him leaning casually against the bar chatting to someone. Oh, hang on, was that Vince Vaughn? He was talking to Vince Vaughn. Right.

  “Ally?” Lena’s soft voice cut through my thoughts.

  “Yeah?” I still wasn’t looking at her.

  “I thought you said you weren’t affected by—how did you put it? All that celebrity bullshit?”

  I ignored her. My pride took second place to Leo’s presence and I’d just have to deal with the consequences later.

  I heard Lena’s soft laughter and found myself grinning. It was kind of funny. I finally turned back to her, although it pained me to do so. “Did you plan this?”

  She shook her head. “No, but would you like to meet him?”

  I swallowed, aware my eyes had rounded to the size of saucers. After a painful moment of consideration, I released a pent-up breath. “It’s probably better I don’t. I’ll just make a fool of myself.” My teenage self hated me the second I said it.

  Lena stood and looked down at me, poised confidently on her skyscraper heels. “No, you won’t. He’s lovely. And besides, you’re Allegra, remember?” She held out a hand.

  I got up unsteadily and took her hand while internally my teenage self squealed in anticipation.

  I guessed now was as good a time as any to try out Allegra Valenti, because Ally sure as hell couldn’t be trusted not to make a fool of herself.

  *

  “I didn’t insult him,” I said later, nursing another cocktail.

  “You sound surprised,” replied Lena.

  “I am.”

  It was after eleven and the music had been turned up. The steady hum of a low bassline and an unusual, eclectic melody played over the top. It wasn’t a song I recognized, but then I wasn’t exactly the height of trend. Something I’d been painfully aware of when I’d met Leo.

  “I’m a fake, you know,” I told her. “You’re introducing me to my teenage fantasy as an up-and-coming fashion designer and I’m wearing this.” I waved a hand dismissively at my plain little black dress and grabbed my drink with the other, still slightly mortified by the entire scenario.

  “What’s wrong with what you’re wearing?” asked a deep voice.

  I startled at the sound, my skin tingling. The amber-colored liquid in my glass sloshed as I looked up—a long way up—to meet Jake’s curious blue eyes. I swore softly as some of the drink spilled onto my dress.

  Jake winced. “Back in a sec,” he announced.

  The tingly feeling dissipated as he headed for the bar, and I stared at my dress in dismay. It hadn’t been fashion excellence but it wasn’t that bad. “I guess that’s payback,” I muttered.

  “It won’t be ruined,” Lena said. “Look. Here he comes.”

  I set my drink down this time. Wise move. I hadn’t had a good chance to look at him before, which was probably just as well or I’d have poured the entire drink over myself. He made Leo seem small. He was all powerful legs and broad shoulders, but not in an over-pumped way. More in an off-hand ‘I enjoy the outdoors’ way, which suggested doing things with his muscles while he was out there. His good looks should have irked me, not to mention the subtle warm glow to his skin—it had to be fake—but everything about him seemed natural, damn it, including his understated wardrobe choice. He wore jeans again, but they were designer. I could tell that even from a distance. They were the sort of dirty dark blue that was almost black. He’d paired them with a fitted dark gray shirt rolled up to his elbows. The ensemble looked like he’d thrown it on just before he walked out the door. I wondered if that sort of effortless style came naturally to him or if he’d spent a great deal of time making it appear that way. Who was I kidding? The man probably had a stylist. He was a bona fide Sexiest Man Alive after all.

  He caught me watching him and I cleared my throat self-consciously, looking away.

  “Here you go,” he said, when he arrived back at our table. “Sorry I made you spill your drink.”

  He handed me a wad of napkins and I concentrated on mopping up the liquid. “Not your fault.” I directed the words at my knees, still annoyed at myself—for spilling my drink or finding him attractive, I wasn’t sure which. “You’d think I’d be used to seeing movie stars everywhere I look.”

  “We’re a dime a dozen round here,” he agreed good-naturedly. “See? There goes another one now.”

  I looked up to see him pointing toward the bar. “Oh, for . . . �
� He was referring to actress Chloe Kemp.

  His laughter sent a warm thrill up my spine.

  He leaned in close. “Made you look.”

  I ignored him—and my traitorous body—and studied Chloe’s profile while she chatted to someone else. “That dress is all wrong on her,” I said more to myself than anyone else.

  I’d always secretly admired the childhood actress. Not that she was a child anymore. How old would she be now? Twenty? Twenty-one? She had that peaches-and-cream complexion, which contrasted with her burgundy hair. The effect was dramatic, made more so by her bright blue eyes.

  “What’s wrong with her dress?” asked Lena.

  “The color’s not right for a start. It makes her look too pale.”

  “That’s because she is pale,” suggested Jake.

  I waved a hand at him. “You’re missing the point. It makes her look too pale. Sickly. Not many people can pull off yellow anyway. She should be in something darker like purple or green.”

  “Alright, you’ve lost me,” Jake said, now seated at a respectable distance. “Surely a dark color is going to make her look just as pale?”

  I shook my head. “Yes, the contrast will make her look pale, but in a good way.”

  “I guess that’s why Lena’s paying you the big bucks.” He leaned back in the seat. “Sorry about your dress again, by the way.”

  I shrugged. “I need a new wardrobe. It doesn’t matter.”

  “Something more Hollywood, right? If I were you, I wouldn’t lose that sophisticated innocence thing you’ve got going on. The contradiction suits you. Hollywood would come across as garish on you.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. Sophisticated innocence? Garish? “You don’t play for the other team do you?”

  Jake’s laughter crescendoed loudly over the pumping bass and I found myself gripping the stem of my margarita glass tighter. It would be so much easier to banter with him if he was gay.

  After he’d collected himself, Jake sat back again and observed me with amusement. “I’ve played for a lot of teams over the years but I can assure you, that’s one team I’ll never play for.”

  Lena’s soft laughter sounded like it was part of the melody. Probably time to change the subject. I did not need to be thinking about Jake’s heterosexuality.

  “You played college football, right?” I asked.

  “Yep.” He returned his focus to the people in the bar. “Before I started acting.”

  “What made you change to acting?” I asked, genuinely interested. I could easily imagine him at home on a field instead of a set. It fitted with his outdoorsy, wholesome image.

  His eyes met mine. “You don’t know?”

  “Don’t know what?”

  For a moment, Jake seemed at a loss for words. “Injury,” he said at last.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I had no idea.” And he definitely didn’t look injured to me, but I stopped myself from saying that.

  “Ally doesn’t really keep up with celebrity news,” Lena informed him.

  “Except for the red carpet,” I added. “But that’s just pictures so I don’t have to subject myself to the trashy rumor mill. If I actually read that junk, Lena’s probably had a secret baby, bounced back and cheated several times so no one knows who the father is.”

  That earned me a smile from Jake, but I noticed it didn’t reach his eyes.

  “Acting seems like an interesting career choice for a jock,” I continued, still keen to figure him out.

  He didn’t reply straight away. He wasn’t looking at us again, choosing instead to survey the crowd. “Being a jock would imply I had no other talents.” I couldn’t tell from his tone if he was joking or not, but there was something dark in the way he said it.

  I bit my lip and looked over at Lena. Her shoulder rose in a small shrug.

  I sighed. Me and my big mouth. “I’ve insulted you, haven’t I? How about I shut up? Saying as little as possible worked when I met Leo, so I might just stick with that before you hate me.”

  Jake swiveled in his seat so he was facing me. On the other hand, maybe it was better if I’d insulted him and he’d stormed off. I wasn’t sure if I was up to Jake’s undivided attention. “Leo?” he asked.

  “You know, DiCaprio?”

  “Ally’s teenage crush,” Lena clarified helpfully.

  I shot Lena an evil glare willing her to shut up.

  “Oh, right. Nice. A few posters, were there?” I didn’t like the sparkle in his eye. It was downright wicked and I was torn between annoyance and a ridiculous yearning to encourage more of it.

  “A few?” Lena grinned. “Try a wall full of them. Leo was the man.”

  “That’s why they’re called teenage crushes,” I shot back irritably. “It’s a passing infatuation. Very unobtainable.”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” said Jake, thrumming his hands on the table and nodding toward the bar. “He looks pretty obtainable to me.”

  The involuntary guffaw I let out caused a few people nearby to look over at us. I lowered my eyes to my lap in embarrassment. “Yeah, if you’re Lena Lyons or Chloe Kemp,” I muttered.

  “What’s wrong with Allegra Valenti?”

  That he’d used my full name made me meet his gaze. “You can’t be serious?”

  “Why not?”

  “There is no way the likes of Leonardo DiCaprio would be interested in me,” I hissed.

  Jake shrugged. “I don’t see why not.”

  I stared at him, at a complete loss for words. He just kept on staring right back at me like he meant it, until I was forced to turn to Lena for support.

  “Make him see sense, would you?” I grabbed for my drink and took a big gulp, ignoring the bite to my throat as it went down.

  “I’ll do no such thing.” She looked over my shoulder at Jake. “Besides, Ally’s already admitted the Leo of today doesn’t do it for her anymore. She preferred him in his Romeo & Juliet and Titanic days.”

  “That’s a relief.”

  I choked and put my drink back on the table. Jake patted my shoulder lightly, the bare skin he’d touched burning in a good way.

  He winked at me. “Means the rest of us are in with a chance.”

  Chapter 6

  He was a big tease. That’s what he was. All that unbridled masculinity. It was no wonder he threw it around like a modern-day James Dean. He probably couldn’t help himself.

  The pin I was holding slipped and I accidentally stabbed the dummy. I winced. I’d need to refine my technique when the time came for Lena to do a fitting.

  I continued pinning the muslin to the mannequin with more care. So far it was a very rough effort. I’d already used a heavier-weight muslin to create a pattern for the basic design of the dress. I’d gone for a one-shoulder neckline and was toying with the idea of a very high slit in the gown to show off Lena’s impossibly long legs. Now I was attempting to use a lighter-weight muslin over the top to experiment with how the pleating would work.

  “Too good-looking for his own good, that’s his problem,” I said to myself. After his throwaway remark about being in with a chance, he and Lena had discussed their upcoming movie in detail, leaving me to ponder his comment. Twelve hours later I was still thinking about it.

  That he could make a teasing comment like that spoke volumes. He was obviously used to women pining for him. Well, not this woman. While I couldn’t deny he was attractive and, from what I’d seen so far, a genuinely nice guy, I wouldn’t go out with him if he was the last man available in LA.

  Alright, slight exaggeration, but I found it hard to imagine ever being involved with someone like Jake. Impressive ego aside, what would it be like to have every woman in America trying to throw themselves at your boyfriend? I had the feeling it would get old very quickly. Give me a run-of-the-mill guy any day, thank you very much.

  “Oh, like that’s worked out well for you.” Fortunately, Lena’s mansion was big enough that I could talk to myself in peace.

  In my experience, even
normal guys had their issues. The last guy I’d dated had been two years ago. A set-up, thanks to one of my cousins. Short-lived on account of his halitosis and commitment to grandfatherly plaid shirts. The few dates we’d been on had me longing not only for breath mints, but for bed—alone. The conversation wasn’t exactly scintillating.

  Strike that. Maybe normal wasn’t the way to go either. Single was easier.

  With a sigh, I pushed all my frustrating thoughts about men and Jake aside and focused on the dress.

  I had the Foo Fighters playing loudly in the background. Lena certainly hadn’t delayed in getting everything organized for me. The sound system was nicer than any I’d ever owned and the room itself was gorgeous, too. She’d put me in one of the spare living areas upstairs with huge arched floor-to-ceiling windows, which gave me great light. A massive worktable stood in the center of the room with the latest-model sewing machine and overlocker at one end. Along the back wall Lena had even gone to the trouble of buying two sets of elegant shelves and stocking them with an array of sewing supplies. So much for temporary. I couldn’t have hoped for a better set up if I was establishing myself professionally back home.

  Two hours later my neck was cramping painfully and my hands felt numb from all the pinning. It had been a while since I’d worked on anything, so the pads of my fingers felt raw and sensitive.

  Just as I was contemplating packing up and wandering down to the kitchen for an afternoon snack, my phone pinged with a message from Lena.

  See what my PR team have done! Follow the links.

  I frowned. The links were for Twitter and Facebook accounts, and both of them were in my full name, Allegra Valenti. My fashion label.

  I hit on the link for Twitter. “Holy shit.”

  They’d created a business Twitter account for me. Lena had been at me to do it, but I hadn’t gotten around to it. It wasn’t because I wasn’t social-media savvy. I already had personal Twitter and Facebook accounts. I was just having a hard time putting myself out there as a professional designer.