Hollywood Stardust Supporting Roles - Wilson and Giselle (11 page)

“
Giselle.” Now he lowered
his voice.

She leaned around him and motioned for the
valet.

Sure, for the gorgeous blonde the man was
right on top of it and scurried over.

“
Here.” She gave the man
the bills she took back from the hostess in the restaurant. “Please
have the car waiting for us when we return. We’ll be
back.”

“
I will, thank you.” He
tipped his head.

“
Come on. The rain stopped,
so we can walk.” Giselle guided him away from the noise and the
chaos down the block to a little diner with barely anyone inside.
The place must have been there since the dawn of the Stone
Age.

“
This is where you want to
eat?” He resisted and stood his ground.

“
Take a seat anywhere.” The
waitress motioned around.

“
Yep. That’s why we’re in
here.” She led them to a booth, slid in and kept hold of his hand
until he sat next to her. “Two matzo ball soups with noodles please
and two cream sodas.”

“
I don’t want matzo ball
soup.” He put his hand over his eyes. This night was a
mess.

“
Yes, you do.” She moved
his hand away from his face. “Look at me.”

Unable to resist anything she wanted, he
stared at her face.

“
What’s your deal?” Again,
she did that thing where she moved his bangs out of his face.
“Everything will work out.” She repeated her mantra.

Thankfully, the waitress delayed his
response by putting down two bottles of cream soda and two troughs
of matzo ball soup. The ball was so big it was more like a cannon
ball. “Our food is here.”

“
It needs to cool down,
like you do, now speak.” Giselle took his chin in her
hand.

“
I just wanted you to have
a wonderful night and show you the best.” He shrugged. “I wanted to
give you caviar, not chicken soup.”

“
I want chicken soup, and I
hate caviar. You always show me the best, and this can be a
wonderful night no matter where we are.” Out of nowhere, she gave
him a kiss.

Her words only strengthened his conviction.
He broke the kiss and pressed his forehead to hers.

“
I know there’s more. Tell
me.” Her breath danced over his lips. “Chicken soup won’t let you
hold back from me, it’s a magic truth elixir.”

“
I just…” He shook his
head. “I want to be able to treat you the way Logan can treat Ivy.
They would have never done that to him in a restaurant. This town
is obsessed with celebrities.”

“
That may be good for
Ivy—she wants roses and romance, but I’m not her, and I want fruity
nut bars and matzo ball soup.” She gave him a light peck. “I think
for all those celebrities out there, there are the big brothers or
sisters, or moms or dads who helped them. Without Wilson, there
would be no Logan, and if anyone deserves a table anywhere, it’s
you.”

He pulled back and stared into her eyes. She
was his match. The one. His balance. “Giselle, tell me you want to
be with me.” He took her hand and put it to his lips. No matter
what, he had to do right by her.

She smiled. “I’m here.”

What would she do if he told her he never
wanted her to leave? If he told her he loved her, would she return
the words?

Lord help him, he loved her.

Maybe the chicken soup really was a truth
serum. “Let’s eat.”

“
WINE GLASSES, RED AND
WHITE, martini glasses, highball glasses, water glasses.” Giselle
finished arranging the glassware in the bar. The soft opening was
less than two days away, and though they ditched the grand gala or
as Wilson would have called it, the wedding theme, and went with
something simpler, she still wanted the event to go off without a
hitch. In fact, the thought of the soft opening made her sort of
sick. Yes, their friends might be coming, but that didn’t mean
everyone wouldn’t be looking at everything with narrowed eye
scrutiny.

“
Giselle.” Laughter in his
voice, Wilson joined her and held his phone out to her. “Look who
showed up in
The National
Reporter
?”

“
A man who is willing to
hand over the phone. Good trait.” She took the device.

“
All you will find there is
stuff about you and now this.” He stood next to her and
pointed.

Finally, she looked at the screen. Ivy and
Logan were sprawled over the tabloid’s website in a story
chronicling their love affair right down to the type of birth
control they used. Unable to stop herself, she let out a laugh and
glanced over at Wilson.

The moment they caught sight of the other
they both cracked up. She doubled over and Wilson slung his arm
over her shoulder.

“
Tell me why you’re
laughing.” He gasped to catch his breath.

“
Because, Ivy needs this if
she’s going to be with Logan.” After forcing the words out, she
went into another round of laugher. “What about you?”

“
Because I always told my
brother to watch out for this stuff, and his mind must be so
clouded with his girl, he let his guard down.” Once calming down,
he leaned against the bar. “Well, it will give the bar some
publicity.”

“
Remember, all publicity is
good publicity.” She saw both sides on Wilson’s attitude about his
brother’s fame. Wilson gave up a lot to ensure his brother had his
chance. Still, she wished they could just be brothers. Whatever
happened, she had to make sure Wilson was the star of his show at
the soft opening, and that started with ensuring everything was
perfect. She scanned the area to find the faults. “I think I’m
going to run down to the coffee shop and get that smoothie we both
like.”

“
Do you think it’s weird
that I own a bar and you’re going somewhere else to get drinks?”
Wilson put his finger on her nose. “What’s with the
face?”

“
I’m trying to look at the
bar through critical eyes.” She returned his phone to him and micro
adjusted one of the glasses to bring them all into perfect
alignment.

“
Everything is going to be
fine.” He put his arms around her and bent down to kiss
her.

In an effort to remember anything she could
have forgotten, she put her nail in her mouth and stared at
nothing, at everything. Her focus landed on their can of nuts. “Oh,
my God!” Before he made contact, she thrust him away. “Wilson.” She
grabbed the can of nuts and hugged it to her chest.

“
Those aren’t our nuts,
ours are up in our room.” He attempted to pry the oversized can of
salted treats away from her.

“
Well, I’m sure there’s a
health code for that, so good.” There were certainly a lot of
“ours” in his sentence, but it was starting to feel right. All her
life she only had hers, but the ours were growing on her.
“Actually, I was wondering if I should separate the nuts and sort
them so we can make sure that each nut is represented in the proper
proportion. Maybe some of the heavier nuts settled or
something.”

“
Do you know what the
proper proportion is?” At last, he succeeded in freeing her of the
nut can. He put it aside and resumed his position with his arms
around her, his hands traveling down and cupping her
backside.

“
I could figure it out.”
She gave him a little wriggle.

“
How would you do that?”
Now he gave her butt a squeeze and raised his eyebrows.

“
That’s easy. I would
separate the nuts, count them, figure out the percentages and then
reassemble the nuts into proper portion sizes.” At feeling a little
action growing in the front of his pants, she tilted her
head.

“
Is that all you want to do
with nuts?” He pressed her to him.

“
Well, I may want to pick
all the cashews out as well.” Yes, she purposely avoided his
obvious question.

“
Your ass in these shorts
is making me nuts.” Rather than keep playing the innuendo game, he
went right for the topic at hand.

“
That’s why I’m wearing
them.” In an abrupt move, she pushed him away.

“
Let’s take a break.” He
motioned toward the bulge in his jeans.

“
Later. We have work to do,
and I’m going to go get our treats.” If she allowed it, they would
spend all day in break mode, and she still needed to decide what to
do with the nuts and everything else. Not that she minded break
mode in the slightest. At least he was learning to let
loose.

“
I know you’re right.” He
hung his head down.

“
I’m always right.” She
gave the top of his head a kiss and trotted through the bar and out
the back door, where she practically tripped on a can of spray
paint. Spray paint?

She stared down at the can and breathed in.
The distinctive chemical odor of paint overtook her, and she turned
around.

At the sight before her, her throat
constricted and her body lurched as if she might vomit right then
and there. Some thug or criminal, or ne’er-do-well, or just overall
horrible person, had painted graffiti across the back of the
building. In black, the words “Hollywood Stardust” was written,
then in red someone crossed out the word star. For a finale,
someone scrawled the words “go back to rehab” in blue. Whoever did
this knew Logan was attached to this place, and they violated not
only Logan but Ivy, and above all else, Wilson. “Oh, my God.”

“
Wilson.” Frozen to the
spot, she willed him to her. Quite sure she would indeed get sick,
she put her hand over her mouth and continued to gaze upon the
filth.

Almost as if he heard her whisper, the back
door opened. “Giselle, you forgot—” He cut himself off and came to
her. “What’s wrong?”

Without a word, she pointed to the damage.
She couldn’t go down as the person who told him his building, his
work, was ruined.

Wide eyed, he turned. “Holy Hell.” He
stepped back and put his arm around her. “Are you okay, baby?”

Seriously, the man was looking at how
someone defiled his dream, and he asked if she was okay? Even the
awful year when her grandmother and father passed away within six
months of each other, no one ever bothered asking if she was all
right. Her mother was a basket case and Giselle was left to be the
one to try to lift everyone’s spirits.

She gazed up at him.

“
Giselle, are you all
right?” He took her into his arms.

A flood, more like a tidal wave of emotion
consumed her and out of nowhere, she burst into tears. The kind of
cry where she soaked his shirt and couldn’t breathe and held on.
One second she was talking nuts and smoothies and the next
everything felt too big and dangerous.

“
It’s okay. We’re going to
fix this. This has happened to him before.” He held her tight and
took her back inside. “I need to call Logan.”

“
What do I need to do?” She
kept her face in his chest and clutched his shirt in her
hands.

“
Stand right here with me.”
He put his hand on the back of her head. “That’s all you need to
do.”

As he spoke to Logan, Wilson’s voice rumbled
through her. Key words such as damage, unexpected and insurance,
stood out in their conversation. Did every bad thing that ever
happened read from the same script?

“
All right, we’re going to
wait for Logan to get here.” Keeping her in his arms, he backed up
and leaned against the bar. “Since it already happened, we can
probably wait to call the police or whatever we need to
do.”

“
I should have thought of
that.” The idea of this coming into their lives made her
shudder.

Wilson’s phone chimed. “Hold on, I got a
text from Ivy.” He adjusted how he held her.

At last, she found the strength to look up
at him. “What did she say?” Ivy would make it better. Someone had
to make it better.

“
With the tabloid and
everything, she said don’t call in any outsiders. She also sent a
list of products, so hopefully we can remove the graffiti
ourselves, and I have some paint from when we first renovated the
building.” He nodded. “Good call.”

“
I should’ve thought of
that.” She shook her head.

“
Do you want to stay here
while I run to the hardware store?” In a gentle motion, he smoothed
her hair down.

“
No, I want to go with
you.” Refusing to let him out of her sight, she clutched his arm.
“Is that all right?”

“
I always want you with
me.” Still holding her tight, he kissed her forehead.

“
How can you be so calm?”
As he gathered his wallet and keys, she stayed close by his
side.

He guided her outside. “Sometimes you have
no choice.”

She should have thought of that.

Time crawled, or maybe it didn’t move fast
enough. Still, she almost felt as if she were floating on some
sick, sad cloud as they went through the everyday motions of
driving to the store, purchasing what they needed and driving back,
but this was an extraordinary day, one they would never forget.
Those days, good or bad were always scary snippets that couldn’t be
recaptured, but changed one’s life forever.

Neither of them spoke much as they set up to
repair the mess.

She needed to say something, do something,
be of some use other than the basket case that clutched her
boyfriend. This was exactly the woman she didn’t want to turn into.
“Wilson.”