Jane Austen Goes to Hollywood(49)
Author: Abby McDonald

Hallie laughed. “Don’t bother. She’s got our neighbor Brandon over all the time, and this guy from school, Harry, and then there’s —” She stopped, suddenly glimpsing a tangle of dark curls on the other side of the menswear section. Her heart leaped. Could it be . . . ?

“Who?” Lucy asked. “You were about to say something.”

“Huh?” Hallie squinted eagerly across the room. The guy was too far away to see clearly, half hidden by a display of tuxedo jackets.

“You said there’s another guy,” Lucy asked, “for Grace?”

Hallie didn’t take her eyes from the stranger. She’d thought she’d seen Dakota everywhere in L.A. too, but this was different — it really could be him! But as Hallie watched, a blond girl approached: shaking her head at his selection, and passing a new jacket for him to try. He did so obediently, stepping out of sight behind the rail of clothing.

Hallie sighed. Of course it wasn’t him — why would Dakota be browsing tuxedo jackets in Bergdorf’s? He was a strictly vintage guy, at home in threadbare band shirts and worn jeans. She turned back to the line as the Ivy League guy finally tucked his platinum credit card — and the salesman’s phone number — away.

“Hallie?” Lucy prompted again.

“Oh, yeah, it doesn’t matter.” Hallie strode up to the register and dumped her gifts on the counter. “So, where in England are you from?” she asked Lucy, changing the subject. “I’ve always wanted to go to London!”

Lucy filled the cab ride back with chatter about life in England, and then insisted on stopping off at the hotel with them to take a look at the lobby. “It’s so Christmassy,” she trilled happily, gazing around at the baubles and tree.

“Miss Weston?” The concierge called over from the front desk. “You had a visitor. A young man . . .”

Hallie gasped. “When? Where? Did he leave a note?”

“No message,” the concierge said, “but I saw him head into the lounge. He might still be there. . . .”

Hallie was already hurrying across the lobby, heart pounding. He’d come! Her boots skittered on the marble floors as she ducked past tourists, sliding to a stop as she reached the lounge area. She scanned the couches, desperate for a glimpse of Dakota. Not him, not them, no . . .

“Oh.”

Her heart sank as she spied the boy sitting in front of the fire. Messy brown hair instead of Dakota’s dark curls; a preppy parka and khakis where skinny jeans and leather should be.

“It’s you,” she said, disappointment in every syllable.

Theo turned at the sound of her voice. “Hallie, hey!” He got up to greet her, then paused, noticing her expression. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Hallie sighed. “I just thought you were someone else.”

“Sorry.” Theo gave her an awkward hug.

“What are you even doing out here?” Hallie asked. She could hear the petulant note in her tone, but she didn’t care. Everyone was showing up except the one person she wanted more than anything!

“We’re spending the holidays with my grandma here in the city,” Theo explained. “There’s a holiday party, tomorrow night. I thought maybe you’d want to come. Both of you,” he added, looking around hopefully.

“I’m going to Dakota’s show,” Hallie told him. “But I guess Grace could come. Why don’t you ask her?” she added as Grace reached them, Lucy following behind. “Look who came to visit,” Hallie told Grace meaningfully. “Isn’t that great?”

Grace didn’t speak. Instead, it was Lucy who lit up. “Teddy!” she cried. “Oh, my God. I didn’t think you were coming until next week!”

Hallie looked back and forth between them. “Wait, how do you two know each other?”

Theo flushed. “I . . . um . . . we . . .”

“They met over the summer,” Grace said, her voice dull. “In the Hamptons.”

“Huh. Small world.” Hallie shrugged. Theo was still frozen, turning redder by the second. “Anyway, his folks are throwing some party tomorrow, he came to see if you’d come.”

“I’d love to!” Lucy piped up. Hallie was about to point out that he hadn’t actually meant her, when Grace backed away, knocking into an antique side table.

“I need to go,” Grace said, looking strained. “Headache. I have to lie down.”

“But Theo came to see you.” Hallie stared at her, confused. Was Grace completely oblivious? This was her one true love in front of her, with that puppy-dog look and everything! “You should have a coffee. Catch up!”

“I can’t. But, thanks.” Grace gave Theo a weak smile and then took off across the lobby, almost at a run. Hallie watched her go, frowning. That had been downright impolite, and her sister, no matter what, was never rude. Even when creepy homeless guys accosted her on the subway, Grace would always smile and tell them she was sorry, but she didn’t have any change.

“I better go too,” Hallie told them. “Make sure she’s OK.”

“Right,” Theo said, looking downcast.

“That’s OK!” Lucy trilled happily. “I’ll keep him company.”

Hallie caught up with Grace by the elevators. “Are you crazy?” she asked. “Why did you blow him off? He came to see you, anyone could tell.”

Grace just shook her head, but when the doors closed behind them, Hallie heard a muffled sob. She looked over. Grace was crying.

Crying!

Hallie gasped. “What’s wrong?” She couldn’t remember Grace crying since . . . since never. Not even at their father’s funeral!

“He’s with Lucy,” Grace told her, lips trembling. “They hooked up over the summer. She’s been visiting him at college. They’re in love.” Her voice twisted on the last word.

“No . . .” Hallie breathed, remembering Lucy’s smug comments about lingerie and secret rendezvous. “That bitch!”

“It’s not her fault.” Grace sniffed, clearly miserable. “It’s mine, for ever even thinking . . .” The elevator doors opened. Grace slumped miserably down the hall to their suite; swiping uselessly with her key card until Hallie took it from her and let them in.

“Look at me,” Grace sniffled. “I can’t even open a door.”

Hallie shook her head. Doors weren’t the problem here, no, their problem was five six, with freckles and a snooty British accent. She knew there was something off about the girl. Nobody was that nice to small children without hiding some dark, twisted heart.