The Redhead Plays Her Hand (Redhead #3)(35)
Author: Alice Clayton

Speaking of grinning and bearing it . . .

“Okay, uncle! Uncle, I give!” I collapsed to the mat and breathed heavily after the last set of crunches were finished. Megan laughed and threw me a bottle of water, which I took gratefully. Drinking it down, I stared out at Los Angeles. From this high up, the palm trees swayed in the breeze, the glitter from a hundred Bentleys making the street below sparkle. What a town. Absently I rubbed my necklace from Jack.

His public.

His public continued to rage about me, online at least. The pictures of him and his new costar had brought another round of sniping from his biggest online fan clubs. He was never really dating me—I was a cougar who was fame hungry—it was exhausting. What was I to do? Did I admit that I hated what the press was saying about me? Did I comment? Did I shy away? Did I cower in the corner, or did I come out swinging, teeth bared and claws out like a cougar?

And in addition to all this bullshit going on about the size of my ass and whether I was sleeping with Sexy Scientist Guy, I had the biggest thing ever in my professional career going on. Which, by the way, was being overshadowed by this inane chatter. Would be nice if that could be the focus.

Glad to see we are getting back on track here . . .

My new show was set to premiere next week, and there were more interviews to go to, radio shows to call in to, hoops to jump through, and talk show hosts to charm. And I was supposed to be focusing on potted plants and their place in my natural world?

Pick your path. You don’t get to decide how the public reacts. You only get to decide how you react.

True, very true.

Victim? Warrior? Pick. Your. Path.

As I was contemplating, I saw a woman walk nervously into the gym, peering through the window. Pretty. Plump. Her eyes darting everywhere, she tensed when she saw me watching her. Her hands tugged at her T-shirt, pulling it down a bit, trying to cover up probably without even knowing it. I smiled at her, and she seemed to relax, but only a bit. Megan spied her through the window and waved her out.

“Hey, Chelsea, I’ve gotta take a quick call,” Megan told her. “Go ahead and start stretching out for a few, and then we’ll get started, okay?” She grabbed her phone and ducked back inside. Chelsea looked at me, then did a double take.

“Um, are you Grace Sheridan?”

“Have we met before?” I asked, walking over after picking up my bag.

She smiled shyly at me, again picking at her shirt and tugging it down a bit. “Well, um, I’m a big fan of Jack Hamilton.” She blushed furiously. “And, well, you know, you’re kind of all over the Internet lately.” She blushed even more.

“Ah, well, yes. That’s true.” I chuckled. “And you’re correct. I’m Grace.” I extended my hand to her.

She shook it with a grin. “I’m Chelsea. Oh my God, I can’t believe it! I’ve been seeing commercials for your new show. I can’t wait!”

“Really? Wow, that’s great. You’ll have to let me know what you think after next week.”

“I gotta tell you, at first I only knew who you were because of, well, your pictures with Jack. And you know, at first, of course, I was jealous because, well, my God, he’s gorgeous!”

She giggled, becoming more animated as she talked. I laughed with her, nodding my head. He was gorgeous.

“But then, when the press started picking on you? Dammit, that pissed me off! And I thought, well, shit, if anyone is gonna be with that beautiful man, I like the idea that it’s someone like you. Does that make sense? Sorry, I know I’m babbling, but I have to know, are you two dating? Please tell me yes,” she finally ended, breathing heavily. Her eyes were dancing, her cheeks still pink.

I took a breath on my own. “If I say yes, are you going straight to TMZ?” I winked.

“Fuck no!” she exclaimed, then slapped her hand over her mouth. “I mean . . . actually, I do mean f**k no!”

“Then f**k yes, we’re dating,” I answered, and she squealed.

I threw my head back and laughed, louder than I had in a while. As we laughed, Megan came sauntering back outside, looking like a very pretty drill sergeant.

“Grace? You still here? Usually my clients can’t wait to get out of here when I’m done with them. Chelsea, get your ass over on that mat and strike a mean warrior pose!”

Warrior?

Fuck yes. I spun toward Megan.

“Megan, what if I told you I never wanted to weigh myself again. How would you feel about that?”

“Awesome.”

“And if I said I didn’t care what I weighed, as long as I was strong?”

“Awesome.”

“Fantastic. Thanks, Megan. Nice to meet you!” I called over to Chelsea, who was indeed striking a mean-ass warrior pose.

“You too, Grace! And tell Jack I said hi!” She giggled, her warrior becoming a little unbalanced as Megan pushed me to the door.

“Go away now, Grace. Can’t have you distracting my clients.” She shook her head.

“I’m going, I’m going. But seriously, I’m not weighing myself anymore,” I told her.

“Good girl.” She winked.

I left feeling lighter than I had in weeks.

fourteen

Grace Sheridan was the toast of late-night this week, with appearances on Jay Leno, David Letterman, and Jimmy Fallon. While all three hosts tried to get her to comment on the status of her relationship with alleged boyfriend Jack Hamilton, Grace deftly kept the conversation focused on her career and her new show, Mable Unstable?, set to premiere in just two days. But the other hot topic that has dogged her lately, her weight, was not off-limits at all. In fact, Grace spoke candidly to Jimmy Fallon when he asked about her weight and what being asked to lose weight for this role had done to her:

“Well, Jimmy. Can I call you Jimmy?”

“It is my name.”

“Can I just tell you—before we talk about my giant ass—how big of a crush I have on you? Seriously, big crush, Jimmy.”

“Well. Now I’m blushing.”

“Then this would be a good time to talk about my giant ass, right? Since you’re already blushing?”

“It seems like a good time. But really, how in the world did this story get started? And I gotta tell you, for all the fellas in the audience, I’m just gonna say, it’s not giant, but you do have one sweet ass.”

(Audience applauding)

“Thanks, boys! I guess it started when I was cast in Mable Unstable? I’m new to this industry. Let’s not pretend, okay? And I know it’s just part of it, losing weight or gaining weight for a role. Makes sense, right? But then my body figured out it was exactly where it was supposed to be! And I realized I was not willing to risk my health, especially when in the real world outside of Hollywood, no one would ever call me fat! So this is me, curves and all.”