Hidden Hollywood

Julia had been the one to invite Claire and had arranged for the book club to meet in the private lounge, a bland space done in muted gray with white sofas and plush white chairs, instead of Claire’s penthouse suite, to help the other women “focus on the real you.” Claire didn’t mind. She rarely let anyone into her private space. Julia was a total sweetheart, smoothing things over at that first awkward meeting and assuring everyone that Claire was a bookworm just like them. She’d met the book club briefly at the wedding, where they’d been starstruck, but that passed quickly at her first book club meeting when Claire snorted iced tea out her nose over something Mad said. Claire hadn’t always been glam. It was a part she played like any other.

“Smut book club!” another woman exclaimed. “We do like smutty stories.”

A sweet woman in glasses added in a throaty purr, “I read for pleasure.”

Everyone cracked up.

It was Julia who finally came up with the winning turn of phrase. She was the writer, after all. “The Happy Endings Book Club. We all love a happy ending, right? And it’s a little wink at the other kind of happy ending.”

“I’m all about hot sex,” Mad said seriously. “I barely read at all until I found Fierce Longing.”

Julia blushed, bright pink dotting her cheeks. She lifted her long brown hair off her neck. “Thank you.”

“You’ve got one dirty mind,” Mad said appreciatively.

Julia’s blush spread to her neck. “Thanks,” she muttered, dropping her hair and fidgeting in her seat.

“I never woulda guessed it of ya,” Mad said, seeming to enjoy making Julia squirm. Julia was a true introvert and, sadly, a monster blusher. Her color crept into the red zone as Mad waved up and down Julia’s body. “What with that whole girl-next-door thing you’ve got going on. Barely any skin showing—”

“It’s settled!” Hailey announced. “The Happy Endings Book Club. Any objections?” She pointed her pink fingernail at each of them in turn, and finding no objections, she beamed. “Okay! Happy Endings Book Club members, our next book will be…”

The women leaned in.

“Gone with the Wind!” Hailey exclaimed. “And we can watch the movie after we read it.”

The women seemed pleased with this choice. As the room quieted, Hailey’s gaze landed on Claire, and Claire did her best to play it cool. Any pause in the action always seemed to remind Hailey that Claire really needed to get back into the dating game. She’d remained fixated on Claire, she was sure, in the hopes of ultimately planning a big celebrity wedding. Claire tread carefully and politely, she didn’t want things to get awkward at book club. She knew Hailey had good intentions, and Claire really needed this girl-bonding time in her life.

Mad delayed the inevitable Hailey prodding by producing a bottle of tequila from her canvas messenger bag. “Maybe book club is ready to branch out a bit from books.” She took a slug, wiped the rim with her sleeve, and passed it to Julia, who did likewise. The bottle made its way around the circle of women. Claire took a healthy swig, wiped the rim, and passed it to Hailey. She loved that they all drank from the same bottle. Like they were spit sisters.

The conversation got loud and raunchy after that. The women swapped stories on the worst sex they’d had with sloppy kissers, fumblers, and one-minute wonders. Claire kept her mouth shut because her boyfriends were recognizable names. Gorgeous, chiseled male perfection with big wallets and big egos. And shriveled cold hearts. Mad passed the tequila bottle back to Claire, and after another healthy swig, she found herself admitting, “Men just want bragging rights they’ve been with Claire Jordan. They don’t care about me.” She swallowed over the lump in her throat. “At all.”

The women fell silent, their gazes sympathetic, and she realized she’d said too much. She was at the top of her game, the elite tier of Hollywood that so few ever reached, and had absolutely nothing to complain about. “I mean…” Damn, she’d just depressed the hell out of herself admitting the truth. Men used her.

“If only they could all be like Damon,” Mad said, breaking the awkward silence. That was the hero of the Fierce trilogy. She turned to Julia. “I can’t believe you made him up. Why can’t he be real?”

Julia blushed. “I’m sure there’s a Damon out there for all of you.”

Doubtful. Since Damon was actually Julia’s husband, Angel. Claire was one of the few people who knew this fact, having picked up on it at her first meeting with them. Julia had sworn her to secrecy and got it in writing. Claire found it all supremely romantic.