Heartthrob (Hollywood Hearts, #1) Read online

  “Yeah, well, Bambi should come with a warning,” Jake said. “She looks innocent enough, but her cooking skills could ruin a man.”

  “You’re not ruined,” I said smiling sweetly. “If I wanted to ruin you, I’d cook you some of Mama’s lasagna.”

  Jake paled and held up his hands. “Don’t be offended if I don't accept any more dinner invitations until after filming’s over, alright?”

  Lena laughed and walked to his side, ready to see him out. “Wise move. I’ve banned her from cooking for me, too.”

  I sighed dramatically. “I know when I’m not wanted.”

  Lena shook her head at my dramatics. We used to joke that I came across as the actress, not her. “Just channel your energy into designing my dresses. How about that?”

  “I’ll see what I can do. Bye Jake. Can’t move. Sorry.”

  “See ya, Bambi. Thanks for a really average night.”

  I saw Lena frown out of the corner of my eye. I waved at him. “My pleasure.”

  I waited until I was alone to smile to myself. Apart from the inability to move, I’d had a good time. Jake really was genuinely easygoing. I’d done my best not to get distracted by his painfully good looks and we’d watched the football together happily. There’d been no awkwardness. Just friendly banter, a good game and, of course, good food. And I had a sneaking suspicion it was just what he’d needed.

  Maybe I should give up my dreams of fashion design.

  Ally Valenti. Companion to the stars. Experience a more balanced existence with my proven normal life therapy. Famous references upon request.

  I smiled to myself again and then fell asleep.

  *

  When I could move again, sometime around lunchtime the next day, I shuffled painfully to my workroom and kept going on Lena’s dress. Apart from the tightness in my thighs alerting me to muscles I didn’t know I had, I actually felt good. Not on account of the endorphins, of course. I wasn’t sure how endorphins worked exactly, but it seemed like it would be a delayed reaction to feel good the day after exercising. I was putting it down to enjoying my life in Los Angeles.

  I’d never admit it to Mama, but I was glad to be away from the restaurant. With a pang, I remembered the time seven years ago when Papa had first fallen ill. I’d been excited at the prospect of starting a fashion design course in New York. I was going to live there and pick up part-time work in a restaurant. I knew it would be hard to survive financially, but I’d been prepared to eat plain pasta every night if it meant having the opportunity to live in New York and learn about the fashion industry.

  That dream had come to an end when Papa was diagnosed with lung cancer. Mama had needed to be his carer, so that left me with the daunting job of running the restaurant. They were depending on me because, without the income the restaurant brought in, they wouldn’t have been able to afford Papa’s medical bills. So I’d done what every good Italian daughter would have done and stayed home.

  Not that I’d regretted it. I wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else during Papa’s final two years. Despite his suffering, we’d grown closer. I still missed him every day.

  The sound of my cell phone interrupted my recollections. I considered leaving it but then, worrying it might be Lena, walked to the other end of my worktable and picked it up. We were supposed to be going on an expedition to source the perfect fabric for her dresses.

  It was a message from Arabella. I sighed. What did she want?

  OMG! Are you really going out with Jacob Swan?

  I stared at the letters on the screen for a long moment before dialing Arabella’s number.

  “Is it true? Is it true? Is it true?” she squealed when she picked up.

  I shifted the phone away from my ear. Once it was safe I moved it closer again. “Bella, what on earth are you talking about?”

  “He’s your boyfriend, stupid. That’s what I’m talking about!”

  For the briefest of seconds I felt a surge of joy, then I shook myself. “Bella, I told you. I met him through Lena. That’s all.”

  “But he’s hugging you!” she screamed down the phone.

  “OK. Back up,” I demanded, my ear still ringing. “Why would you say that?”

  “It’s all over the internet, duh. You’re both in running clothes. And since when the hell do you run?”

  I inhaled a shaky breath, trying hard to process my cousin’s words. “There’s pictures?”

  “Of course there’s pictures, Ally, he’s America’s hottest actor! The paparazzi follow him everywhere he goes.”

  I pushed a hand through my hair and eased myself into the sofa Lena had thoughtfully included in my workroom. Apparently Bella was way more across the reality of Hollywood celebrity life than I was. “Bella,” I said. “Jacob Swan is not my boyfriend, OK? I already told you, I met him through Lena. That’s all. Those photos were taken in Runyon Canyon. I was there yesterday. I bumped into Jake and we chatted on the way back down. That’s all,” I repeated, in case she hadn’t quite got it the first time.

  “He’s hugging you, Ally,” Bella chanted in a happy voice. “The pictures don’t lie.”

  Oh, for . . . Like I needed to be reminded of that sweaty hug. It was the highlight of my abysmal single life to date.

  “Yes, he hugged me, because I offered to cook him Valenti pizza. He likes pizza, OK?”

  Bella squealed again and this time I held the phone away and turned down the volume before putting it back to my ear again.

  “Ooh,” she practically moaned. “I bet he loved it. What flavor did he go for?”

  I allowed myself a triumphant smile because she couldn’t see me anyway. “Guess.”

  “Hmm.” I heard her tapping her fake nails on something and I wondered what color she’d painted them this time. The silly things were like talons they were so long. There was no way Mama would have let me have nails like that when I was a teenager. “I know!” she cried. “Meatlovers.”

  “You know your celebrities well.”

  “I knew it! Could he move afterward?”

  “No.” I knew I shouldn’t be encouraging her but our family-wide loyalty to the Valenti food ran strong.

  “Awesome,” she breathed. “I am so, so jealous right now. Hey, have any reporters contacted you?”

  I frowned. “No. Why would they? They don’t even know who I am.”

  “Um, says here: ‘Couture specialist has designs on Jacob Swan.’ You haven’t even checked your social media profiles this morning, have you?”

  “Holy shit. No.” This was worse than I thought. Except the bit about being a couture specialist. That was kind of cool.

  “Watch your mouth, Ally. Well, there’s a bunch of stuff on there, plus you just need to google Jacob and you’ll come up as the first news item. The pictures are there, too.”

  Normally I’d reprimand her for her sass, but my brain hurt. I was the first news item linked to Jacob? Me?

  “OK, Bella. I’ll take a look when I get off the phone,” I promised, even though I was secretly hoping if I ignored it, it would all go away.

  “Probably a good idea. Then you might want to call Aunt Rosa,” she suggested, referring to Mama.

  “Why?”

  “She might know about it, too.”

  I gripped the phone so hard it almost shot out of my hands like a projectile. “Bella! I cannot believe you. Why on earth would you tell her—”

  “I didn’t! I promise. Mom came in and saw what I was looking at and then she told Aunty Rosa and—”

  “Now the entire family knows,” I finished for her, doing my best to hold back a sob.

  “Pretty much.”

  “Oh crap. Crap. Crap. Crap.”

  “Get a grip. Jacob Swan hugged you. I don’t see why you’re so upset. Is that why you jogged? So you could fake an injury and then he’d touch you?”

  “What?” I sputtered.

  “Hello. Photographic evidence. You can’t deny it.”

  “I slipped,” I managed betw
een clenched teeth.

  “Yeah, right. Personally I would have gone for something more dramatic. It looked pretty weak from the photos—”

  “That’s enough, alright? I don’t want to hear any more. I need some time to get my head around this, please?”

  “Sure. Whatever.” I could practically see her shrugging in that ‘all old people are strange’ way she had. “Do you want me to keep an eye on things for you?”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, although I was almost scared to know.

  “The internet. Social media. I can monitor what’s trending on Twitter and keep you up to date.”

  “What’s trending?”

  “Yeah. You don’t know what that is, do you?”

  I closed my eyes, grateful she wasn’t able to see me. “You know something? That’s a great suggestion. And while you’re at it, can you please email me the links to the news articles and photos?”

  “I’m on it. Oh. That would be right. That’s the bell. I’ll have it to you by three. Gotta go.”

  I swallowed my hysterical laughter. Apparently my non-relationship with Jacob Swan was big news and I’d enlisted my teenage cousin to be my social media specialist.

  Could my life get any weirder?

  Chapter 10

  “I wouldn’t worry about it,” Lena said later when we were sitting in the back of her sedan being chauffeured by Tim. “It will all blow over soon enough.”

  “Easy for you to say, Miss Movie Star. For you, this sort of coverage wouldn’t be a big deal.”

  Lena reached over and patted my arm. “If anything, the media attention is a nice teaser to get people interested in your designs.”

  “You’ve been spending too much time with your PR people,” I told her.

  She shrugged. “Maybe. You can’t deny I’ve got a point.”

  “Maybe,” I relented. Then another, even more unsettling thought occurred to me. “Oh no. Jake must be so unimpressed.”

  Lena shot me a strange look. “Why?”

  “I’m not exactly going to do his reputation any good, am I?” Oh, way to go, Ally. I’d been so caught up in worrying about how all this lousy PR was going to affect me, I hadn’t even given him a second thought. “Should I call him and apologize?”

  “What on earth do you have to apologize for?”

  I waved a hand in front of me to indicate my general person. “Um, me? I don’t exactly fit the Hollywood stereotype. Imagine if there’d been pictures of us running. Their long range lens probably would have picked up my jiggly bits.” Or me struggling to breathe. Now that would have been a great picture.

  “You have nothing to worry about,” Lena said firmly. “Jake actually wanted me to apologize to you.”

  “To me?”

  “Yes. He feels awful about exposing you like that. You made it quite clear you distrust anything celebrity, so he feels awful.”

  “Oh.” Well, wasn’t that just great? It seemed I had a knack of putting Jake in awkward situations. First I almost injured him and now I was giving him an attack of the guilts. “OK. On second thought, it’s no big deal. Can you please tell him that for me?” If it wasn’t weird, I’d ask Lena for his number so I could call him myself. But somehow I figured an impromptu run and a Valenti pizza didn’t give me the right to contact him personally. It’s not like Jake and I were friends or anything. Acquaintances, at best.

  “You’re right,” Lena said. “It’s no big deal for either of you. You’ll see. Once filming starts you’ll hardly see me, let alone Jake. The buzz will die down. I promise.”

  I ignored the pang at the thought of her and Jake being busy.

  “I think you should design a collection,” Lena continued. “You’re going to have the time, and while you’re at it, why not design a few pieces for yourself as well?”

  “A collection?” I repeated. I’d barely designed anything in the last few years. The concept of an entire collection seemed very far fetched.

  “Why not try a ready-to-wear collection?” she suggested. “You’ll probably need some variety after designing my evening gowns. And who knows? If you get some interest after the awards season and you’ve got enough pieces, you might get offered a runway show somewhere.”

  I coughed in disbelief, then turned away and covered my mouth, looking out the window. Maybe the celebrity had gone to Lena’s head after all? Or maybe she was secretly on recreational drugs? Yes, that must be it, because the words coming out of her mouth were certifiably insane. For once I chose to keep my big mouth shut. Lena was doing so much for me already, I didn’t want my disbelief to sound ungrateful.

  “Don’t limit yourself,” Lena said. “Aim big and then see what happens.”

  Yep, definitely on drugs. I turned back to face her. “I would have said designing your dresses for the awards ceremonies was aiming plenty big.”

  “To start with. But you need a business plan. What happens if what I wear captures people’s attention? What then? You need a plan, Ally.”

  “I’ll think about it,” I allowed. Only a matter of weeks ago I’d been planning the winter menu at the restaurant, not a world takeover plan for my fashion design business, which didn’t exist.

  “I’ve made sure there’s functionality built into your website to add different collections, so don’t worry about that,” she continued.

  “I’ll bet you have,” I muttered.

  Lena sighed. “What’s wrong?”

  I opened my mouth then closed it again. I knew anything I tried to say wasn’t going to come out right. It would just smack of negativity and sound ungracious. Still, I owed it to her to be honest. Outside of my family she was my closest friend.

  “I guess I feel like since I stepped off the plane in LA, I’ve entered an alternate universe,” I told her carefully, then gave up the pretense of political correctness. “I’m in the news, for God’s sake! Me! I’m not newsworthy. I know it’s only by association, but still. It’s like some of that stardust you carry around with you wafted onto me or something. Jake too. All that guy has to do is step outside and women are offering him their breasts to sign.”

  Lena raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow. “I’m not sure I’m going to ask. We don’t have stardust, Ally. We’re just regular people too, remember? That was why I asked you to stay with me if you recall. Because you’re one of the few people that treats me like I’m an actual person. Or was this a bad idea? Are you losing your perspective by being here?”

  I growled in frustration. I wasn’t upset with her. I was annoyed at myself. “Of course not. You’re Lena. You can’t wear flip-flops because you always trip over them. You’re tone deaf but insist on singing along to Taylor Swift like some sort of crazed, warbling cat. I get it. You’re not perfect. None of us are.”

  Except for Jake, I thought, but I didn’t say that. I was still trying to figure out what the hell the guy’s faults were.

  I attempted a smile. “You know what I think it is? Maybe I’m afraid this town is going to suck all the normal out of me.”

  Lena returned my smile. “No chance of that, I promise. You’re the most down-to-earth person I know.”

  I nodded and cast my gaze out the window. Palm trees stood proud against a backdrop of endless blue. The perfectly manicured front yards of the Hollywood Hills streaked past. Another reminder I was a world away from Providence.

  “And seeing as you’re so down-to-earth,” Lena added, “I’d get started on that business plan if I were you.”

  *

  The following days stretched into weeks, and the weeks into a month. Before I knew it, it was early December. Lena kept apologizing for not being around much because she knew I was used to being surrounded by people all the time. I told her not to worry and I was surprised that I meant it.

  At first my own company felt strange. Without the distraction of the constant demands of my family and the restaurant it was easy to feel at a loss. So instead I worked. I put in long hours and then I surprised myself by finishing with an
early evening session in Lena’s gym. Unlike the shifts standing on my feet at the restaurant, at the end of a day sewing and designing, I found I needed to get moving. Nothing too strenuous, mind you. I certainly wasn’t going to be able to run up Runyon Canyon anytime soon, but I found I enjoyed running on the treadmill because it ironed out the kinks in my shoulders. Lena’s kick-ass setup helped. I turned up the music loud and concentrated on the flat screen so I forgot I was actually running.

  Nighttimes, I’d spend flaked out in front of television, often with my laptop open so I could add things to my business plan when I felt like it. Because I was writing one of those now, too. So it didn’t occur to me to be lonely. I was too busy.

  By the end of that first month, I’d not only almost finished Lena’s awards dresses, I was halfway through developing a collection. My Hollywood social life was nonexistent, but I didn’t care. For the first time in my life I felt like fashion design could possibly be more than just a dream. Lena had bestowed an incredible opportunity on me and I was determined not to waste it.

  Not that my family left me alone completely. Mama was on the phone every second day and Arabella was still keeping in contact in the vain hope that I’d have some celebrity gossip. Bella’s interruptions were usually restricted to texts, but Mama’s calls were a lot less fun. She couldn’t understand why I’d decided to stay in LA for Christmas. She kept imploring me to come home and when that didn’t work she resorted to guilt tactics.

  “I’m not getting any younger, Ally, you know that,” she’d say.

  “Mama! Don’t say that. You’re still young.”

  “Not like Great Aunt Gloria. Who knows how long she’s got left . . . ”

  My response was always the same. It was going to be Lena’s first Christmas alone since her divorce. I intended to spend it with her, which of course meant Mama would tell me ‘the more the merrier’ and that we should both fly east. As welcoming as my family would be, I knew it wasn’t what Lena needed. Being surrounded by my big family would just make her more conscious of the lack of her own. Instead we planned to make our own celebrations here in LA.