Hollywood Stardust Supporting Roles - Wilson and Giselle Page 7

  That was it?

  Did his girlfriend just walk out before he even told her she was his girlfriend?

  * * * *

  GISELLE MADE SURE TO STOMP her feet, hoping her heels echoed over the tile floor in the kitchen as she made her way out of Wilson’s. With dramatic flourish, she pulled the door open and then almost tripped slamming it to make sure the slam resonated through the whole building. Too bad only the guy whose name was on the door was around to hear it.

  With the same conviction as her epic door slam, she made her way out to her car, pulled back her foot and squarely kicked the tire of her car. “Ah!” Sharp pain shot up her shin, and she doubled over, grabbing her leg. Why didn’t she just get in the car and go like any self-respecting girl?

  Instead, she stood there, actually slumped there, holding her leg and waiting for what, she didn’t know.

  “Are you all right?” Wilson came out.

  “Yes, I was just inspecting the asphalt while practicing a yoga pose.” Her voice came out convincingly strained.

  “Then I must ask. What are you doing? I would have thought you would’ve drove off by now.” He bent down near him.

  Still holding her leg, she glanced at him. “You know you ruined my day.”

  “Oh really!” He broke out into laughter. The laughter grew, wracking his body until he sat down right on the ground and leaned against the tire that tried to kill her. “I ruined your day? I’d like to know how the hell that happened.”

  Her day flashed before her. The spa, her mother trying to brush every painful thing away, and then driving around until she ended up at that place in the valley that had her favorite sandwich. None of it was fun. She faced him. “I tried all day not to think about you and then thought about you all day.”

  “We had the same day.” He sighed. “Think what it could have been if we were together.”

  Unable to remain in the weird position she got herself into, she sat down next to him. “Well, we could have driven to the valley together to get that sandwich.”

  “That’s what people do when they are together.”

  Her heart sped. “People could do a lot of things when they are together.”

  “Well, maybe some of those things can be returning phone calls and texts. Of course, if those people were together, maybe they would have actually been together and talked about whatever made someone run off for the better part of fourteen hours.” He put his hand out on his leg palm up, a small but significant gesture.

  “A man who actually wants to talk? Isn’t that a little against your species?” She focused on his hand.

  “Yeah, I’m betraying all mankind.” He wiggled his fingers.

  “What if someone needs some alone time just to think?” She put her hand out but stopped.

  “Then that person explains. They don’t just vanish.”

  At last, she put her hand in his and warmth encompassed her. “I’m sorry. What if I promise if I ever need to think I’ll be home by sunset?”

  “I accept your apology and your offer. I didn’t mean to get as upset as I did, but earlier I was thinking about what could have happened to you when you didn’t answer the phone, and I would never want my girlfriend to need me and me not be available.” He intertwined their fingers.

  Girlfriend. Was that a step up from together? She thought about him all day, a title didn’t make that any more or less true. “What do we do now that we’re together?”

  “Kiss me.” His tone was demanding.

  Without hesitation she moved up next to him and connected their lips.

  He wrapped his arms around her and deepened the kiss, before pulling back and leaving her breathless.

  “Do I need to change my social media status now?” She toyed with his collar.

  He hooked his fingers under her chin and prodded her face up. “We can start there, and how about you spend the night?”

  “I’ll spend the night with my boyfriend.” At her total acknowledgement she gasped, but she didn’t die, no one did. Actually, the horrible weight she carried with her all day vanished, but left her feeling as if she were floating without a tether and could crash-land at any second.

  Chapter Six

  GISELLE KNOCKED ON THE DOOR to the front of the club.

  The door opened and one of her newly trained, and then retrained just slightly by her, waiters opened the door and stood there with a blank expression and his hand out.

  She leaned in and put a key in his hand. “Cashew.”

  The waiter gave her one nod and motioned for her to go inside. He closed and locked the door.

  “Excellent.” She clapped, scurried around the corner and waited. Wilson should be here any minute, and she asked him to come in through the front.

  Only five minutes later, the door handle jiggled. “Giselle!” Wilson knocked and called to her.

  The waiter looked over at her.

  “Do it.” With calculated steps, she tiptoed over, but stayed out of sight.

  Once more, the waiter opened the door and stood with his hand out.

  “Excuse me.” Wilson’s voice took on a sarcastic tone.

  As instructed, the waiter didn’t move. “The password, sir.”

  “What?” Wilson adjusted the bags in his hands. “Get out of the way.”

  “Not without the password and the key.” The waiter stood his ground.

  “My password is I own this place, and my key is your paycheck,” Wilson growled.

  “I’m sorry sir, we will have to deny your entrance.” The waiter’s voice shook a little bit.

  Wilson stuck his head inside. “Giselle! Where are you?”

  The waiter turned to her.

  She needed to let their poor employee off the hook, and she rushed over. “You did great, you weren’t going to let him in.”

  “You told me not to let anyone in without the password and the key.” The man smiled at her.

  “But since it’s Wilson, we can let him in. Now go practice your tray skills.” She pointed in the direction the waiter needed to take, hooked her arm in Wilson’s and brought him inside.

  “May I ask what you are doing?” He guided them to their booth.

  “We are a speakeasy, so I thought for the soft opening that we could require people know a password and have a key.” She nodded. “The key could be the invitation.”

  “For the soft opening?” He sat at the booth and unloaded the bag. Light bulbs, batteries, some nuts and bolts and hooks for picture frames.

  “Yes, and I thought we could hire a guy to look like he’s from the 1920s mob to help people. We also need some photographers. I also thought we should order a cake.” She crawled into the booth beside him, but kept her focus on what he pulled out of the bag. This morning when they woke up she’d rattled off a list at him. How did he remember everything? Fine, they woke up together. In fact, they had every night since they decided they were in a relationship.

  No matter how many times she tried to deny it, the fact was, she enjoyed waking up with him right there. Dare she say she loved it? There was comfort to going to sleep with a warm and hot man holding her. Plus, the mornings were stellar. They woke up, had a little AM delight to supercharge their day and then they got to work.

  “Cake?” Once more, he reached in the bag, this time revealing the kind of toilet paper she preferred, and mentioned to him the other night.

  “Yes, it has a fountain. I thought we could make a big batch of the G-spot and have it flowing under the cake.” As she gathered her pile of papers and squinted in the dim space, she tried to find the flyer for the pastry she wanted.

  He opened the package of light bulbs and put one in the little lamp they bought for the center of what they now dubbed their table.

  The whole space illuminated.

  “You’re magic.” She scooted closer to him.

  “How do you figure?” He found the remote control for the music system, put in the batteries, and pressed a button. Some light jazz music filled t
he club.

  “Look at all you can do. You screwed in a light bulb, inserted batteries and made music.” She tilted her head. “Sort of like last night without the light bulb and the batteries.” Truth be told, she didn’t need any batteries with Wilson around. He was economical as well.

  “How will I ever outdo myself?” He leaned in and kissed her.

  She handed him the documentation on the cake and put a few more flyers in front of him. “I ordered the napkins with your initial on it, and after everyone is here and we cut the cake, I thought we could send our guests off with little favors of nuts in little miniature martini glasses.”

  He glanced at all of the papers. “When is the official ceremony?”

  “I wasn’t really planning on an official ceremony.” She bit her bottom lip. “Why?”

  “Because you haven’t planned a casual soft opening for thirty of our closest friends, you planned a wedding.” He chuckled.

  At the mention of the W word, she froze as if a bucket of ice were thrown on top of her head. “Wedding? Are you asking me to marry you?” Her voice shook.

  “Well, I did get you something else at the store that wasn’t on your list.” With only what she would call a gleam in his eye, he put his hand in the bag once again.

  Oh, God. The man was going to pull a ring out of the bag from the store. Her heart seized. What would she say? Did she want to marry him? She never pictured herself the marrying type, but they were together and not doing a bad job. But marriage changed people and the fun would go along with the ring. On the other hand, she had thought that about being in a relationship.

  “Giselle Abromowitz, will you share your fruity nut bar with me?” He pulled out her favorite candy bar and held it in his palm.

  She inhaled, but still felt like she couldn’t take a breath. Before she did the girl thing she hated and said something about weddings or marriages, she bowed her head and put her hand over the candy bar. “Wilson Alexander, I don’t take my fruity nut bars lightly, but I feel I can share this delectable treat with you.”

  “Excellent.” He unwrapped the confection and broke it perfectly in half. “In exchange for this, I promise to always get everything on the list.”

  “Well, since you are vowing to live in greatness, I must do the same and tell you I will tone down the soft opening from a gala of wedding proportions to merely something of grand soft opening proportions.” She tapped her part of the candy bar against his and took a bite.

  “Save your ideas for the grand opening, and maybe save the cake for something else.” He dug into the treat as well and put his arm around her. “Since we’ve been working so hard, how about tonight I take you out for a real date?”

  She nodded and put her head on his shoulder. In truth, Wilson was incredible, amazing, spectacular even. Any girl would be lucky to marry him. Of course, any girl would be lucky to get a real date. “All right.” She wondered what all this entailed.

  “Excellent.” He polished off his fruity nut bar, kissed her and stood. “Then I shall go finish what was on my list so we can take the night off.”

  She watched him go. Any other girl would be crying after he didn’t pull a ring out of the bag from the convenience store. A twinge of anxiety went though her, still she took the flyer from the cake and tucked it in her purse. They had to have cake at their party after all.

  * * * *

  “RAIN? SERIOUSLY?” Wilson turned on the windshield wipers and shook his head. He had everything planned down to the minute, and the rain had the traffic on Wilshire Boulevard down to a crawl. “We live in California, it’s supposed to rain on command, not on our date.”

  “The state needs the water and rain is sexy.” Giselle leaned over and put her hand on his shoulder. “It makes everything wet.”

  Her mentioning wet did make him less upset about the drips down his nice clean car. “I planned an evening.”

  “Rain doesn’t wash away time, plus isn’t the point of a date to make sure you’re going to have sex later on?” She brushed his hair off his forehead. “Well, you know you are getting some, so don’t worry about that. Everything is going to work out. You need to let loose, and I will too.”

  “I am a lucky man.” With his energy directed elsewhere, he tried to calm down until he caught a glance at the time and noticed there would be no way they would make their reservations.

  “One who is getting lucky that’s for sure.” She put her palm over the time in the dash. “Restaurants understand weather, and they won’t give our reservation away.”

  Not wanting to ruin her time or start a lecture on how hard it was to get reservations at a five star restaurant in this city, he took her hand and tried not to think about the moments passing by and all the people clamoring with 100-dollar bills to get his table by the window. He simply wanted to give her the night they deserved. Since they got together, they hadn’t done any of the traditional couple things, and tonight must be perfect.

  They trudged through Los Angeles and at long last made their way into the Golden Triangle of Beverly Hills. The streets here were dotted with the most influential brands and eating establishments in the country. He breathed a sigh of relief at finally getting to the valet in front of their restaurant. The crowd gathered around the notable eatery was sure to give him indigestion.

  “Oh la la. Raymond’s of Beverly Hills?” Giselle bounced in her seat. “I’m starving.”

  One thing he adored about her was her willingness to eat in front of him. “I want you to order whatever you want. This is our special night.” Two valets came to their car and opened the doors. Giselle grabbed her bag and waited for him to come around the car. He took her hand and with his chest puffed up a bit at the gorgeous woman by his side, he entered the restaurant.

  More like he tried to enter the restaurant. Really, he tried to push his way into the restaurant. The crowd in the front made it impossible to get in without forcing his way through.

  “Follow me.” Giselle tightened her grip on his hand and basically dove into the people, bobbing and weaving through her path until they somehow emerged in front of the maître d’, or the female version of the maître d’ in a short skirt and tight white top. “See? Right in front of the people in charge.”

  “Alexander, party of two.” He wrapped his arm around Giselle’s waist.

  The woman nodded and ran her finger over the reservation book. She did it twice more before she shook her head. “I don’t have anything under that name.”

  “Our reservations were for seven.” He leaned over the podium and scanned the book, reading upside down and backward then pointed at his name crossed out with a green sad face near it. “There we are.”

  “Oh, you were late and didn’t show. We had no choice but to give your table away.” The woman shrugged.

  “We’re only twenty minutes late, and I’m sure you see the rain, it backed everything up.” Though he attempted to keep his voice even, he didn’t do that great of a job. What kind of loser couldn’t keep their reservation on a date? Maybe he should have called ahead? No doubt his brother would be at the best table, late or not.

  “Yeah, the weather has made everything crazy, but we are booked solid. I’m sorry about your table, I can put you on the walk-in list.” She lifted her pen.

  He glanced over at Giselle. In her cheery demeanor, she nodded her agreement. “How long is the wait?” he asked.

  The woman glanced around the restaurant and down at the book. “No more than an hour and a half.”

  “Over an hour?” He tensed and raised his voice.

  Giselle squeezed his hand. “That’s only sixty minutes or more.”

  Only moments before she told him she was starving. “Are you sure you can’t do any better?” He reached into his pocket, found some bills and attempted to slip them to the woman.

  The woman plucked the money out of his hand and wrinkled her nose. “How about I get you seated in the bar? We offer our full menu there.”

  “I own a b
ar. If I wanted to eat at a bar, I would have stayed there.” He balled his hand in a fist.

  “That’s fine. We would love to sit at your bar and uncover any trade secrets.” Giselle snapped the bills out of the woman’s claw. “We only give tips when you actually get a real table, not the table reserved for your mess up.”

  With narrowed eyes, the woman snatched up a couple of menus and took them to the bar, seating them in the back by a wall in the dark, and not the kind of dark with ambiance, just the kind of dark that told him this was a forgotten corner of the restaurant.

  They sat, and with Giselle not complaining, he tried to relax. If they had a flashlight, they may be able to read what was actually printed on the piece of paper. He went to whip out his phone when a shard of light cut through his eyes.

  Right as he managed to blink away the glowing stripe in his field of vision, the odor of floral urinal cake and bathroom wafted around him. He didn’t need clear vision to note they were seated by the restrooms, but worse yet, was Giselle winced. In her land, whatever land that might be, it was as good as a complaint, and she should.

  “We’re out of here.” His woman would not be treated with bathroom smells and chairs in the darkness. He shot out of his seat and grabbed her hand. Not bothering with any of her niceties to get through the crowd, he shoved his way outside, went over to the valet station, and thrust the ticket to the first man in a red coat. “We’ll go somewhere else.” The words came out of his mouth, though on a Friday night he didn’t know where in the hell they could go that wasn’t a carbon copy of this place.

  “Wilson.” Giselle stood in front of him and pressed her palm to his cheek.

  Yet another huge crowd of people hovered around the valet station and Wilson watched the valet go from looking for his keys to helping the people. “Excuse me.” He approached the man.

  “I’m a bit busy here, sir.” The man brushed him off and tended to the crowd. Among them was someone he vaguely recognized from television.

  Before he had a chance to start yelling, Giselle grabbed him and pulled him back. “Wilson, come here.”

  “Giselle, I’m just trying to get the car, and we’ll get out of here and get something better, all right?” He snapped.