James Ryder's POV
Soothing jazz music was playing in the background. The Champs were performing on the small stage provided by the restaurant's owner. Waiters serving food from table to table. I exclude myself from the people conversing in the booth. My mind and thoughts were filled by the pretty brunette back home.
Everything that happened today was odd. There were still a lot of unclear things about her. She was careful with her words and actions. It could be because we were strangers to her or maybe she's hiding something. In a whole, Grace Michaels is a true mystery.
Someone cleared their throat which halted my wandering thoughts. My eyes landed on my three companions. Lucy sparing me a disapproving look which I just shrugged it off. She'll get over it eventually.
"James, were you listening?" Judy, Lucy's mother, asked me. I nodded at her and she raised an eyebrow. "And what exactly did I say?"
"The chili's divine and you also invited Tony for dinner. To talk about me and Lucy working in a film again." I smirked. She's a very predictable woman and it's the only thing she mostly talk about anyways. Martin giving me a subtle smirk; I was right. Judy pursed her lips and continued on.
I know she dislikes me or hate would be a better term. But her daughter being linked with me will boost her popularity in the industry. So, she doesn't have a choice but to tolerate me.
I drank the remaining whiskey in my glass in one go. Raising my glass, a waiter approached me and took the glass to refill it. Martin's eyes were on me and shook his head. I planned getting drunk. My mind went back to her and something stirred inside of me. The thought of Grace seeing me drunk when I get home doesn't sit well with me. My plan on getting drunk doesn't sound appealing anymore.
Fuck! Why do I care what she thinks? I sighed heavily and took another cigarette. By the time the waiter came back with my drink, I glide it on the wooden table towards Martin.
"What's this?" he grasped the glass and raised an eyebrow.
"It's whiskey." I deadpanned.
"Yes, I know this is whiskey but why did you give it to me? This is your drink."
"I'm done for the night."
"You? You're done drinking for the night?" Judy scoffed. "Pigs must be flying then. Never imagined to see the day where you stopped drinking."
"I'm shock too, Mother. He even drank my tea today!" Lucy joined the conversation.
"Something wrong, James? Did the alcohol finally got to your brain? You feeling sick?"
"As much as you want that to happen Judy, no I am not. I just don't want to drink more, that's all. It's not something to fuss about," I said to her.
Lucy's eyes narrowed. "Is it because of that Grace?"
"Who's this Grace?" Judy demanded. " Are you seeing some skank other than my Lucy, James?"
My blood was boiling and I clenched my jaw. I didn't like Judy calling Grace a bitch. I may not know her quite well but I'm positive she isn't a bad person. Judy on the other hand though...
"And he even let a strange girl live in his home. Can you believe it, Mother?!"
Judy gasped dramatically. Martin and I just rolled our eyes. I think being her daughter's agent wasn't the right calling for her. She should be an actress instead. Judy shows promise. "James! I couldn't believe you would do that!"
"Even I surprise myself. I didn't know I have the capability to help others. Who knew that I have kindness within me." I goaded. Martin hid his smile when he took a sip of his whiskey. He's clearly enjoying this. One of the things Martin and I have in common, we both dislike Judy.
She glowered and ignored my teasing. "That is not what I meant. What if someone finds out you let a stranger living in your house? A girl for that matter. What do you think they will think? How about Lucy? What will people say about her?"
I had enough. Being around these two is only adding more stress and I have too much of that shit already. I can no longer sit here and listen to them. So, I took one last hit of my cigarette and dabbed it on the glass ashtray. I stood up and called a waiter to get my coat.
"First of all," I began and thanked the waiter for handing my coat. "You know damn well I don't care what other people think. No matter what they say or do, they would always stick to their assumptions without even knowing the truth. That's showbiz for you, Ma'am and you of all people know that. Second, yes, Grace is temporarily living with me and will stay until we can find her family. Lastly, never call her a skank. You got no right calling her that without even knowing her."
"Where are you off to?" Lucy furrowed her eyebrows as I put on my coat.
"Home. I'm tired." I replied as I move away from the booth.
"B-But Tony's coming! We still need to talk about another movie!" Judy said incredulously. "Lucy, talk sense with him!"
"Don't bother! Martin can do that for me. Goodnight!"
"Night, Jim! Happy Birthday!" Martin shouted which resulted the entire people in the restaurant to cheer and whistle. I walked backwards and gave everyone a mock salute. They all laughed and some shook their heads in amusement.
The busy streets welcomed me as I stepped out of the building. Scanning the area, a taxi was coming towards me. I hailed him and abruptly stopped the car in front of me. I got in and the guy looked at me through his rearview mirror.
"W-Where to Mr. Ryder?" he stuttered.
"Trousdale Estates." I told him and we drove off. "Will it be alright if I roll down the window?"
He frantically nodded his head. I thanked him and the wind hit my face. The cold breeze calmed me a bit and I appreciated that the driver didn't turn on the radio for entertainment. I just want to surround myself in silence.
I could feel the driver's stare on me. He jumped a little on his seat when I caught him. "Sorry, sir. This is my first time driving a celebrity. I'm a little starstruck."
"That's okay." I grinned. "What's your name?"
"Julian, sir. Julian Costa. My family and I are huge fan of yours especially my son and Nonna."
"Nonna?" I raised an eyebrow.
"It's Italian for grandmother, sir." Julian said sheepishly.
After an hour, we reached the estate and I directed him where my house was. Julian gaped at the houses that we passed by.
"Stop here." Before I got out, I looked ate Julian. "Do you have a pen and a piece of paper?"
"Just a notepad, sir." he gave me his notepad and pen.
I ripped two papers and wrote on it. After signing it, I handed it to him. "A little something for your Nonna and son.
Julian smiled. "Oh, they'll be thrilled with your autograph, sir. Thank you!"
"See you later, Julian." I gave him my fare with a huge tip. I got out of the car and stood by the sidewalk.
"Goodnight, sir! And thank you again!" he waved happily and drove away.
I waved goodbye to him and started walking to the door. A heavy sigh left my lips as I entered. I put my coat on the rack and craned my neck from side to side.
My eyes landed on Grace; running towards me. Yes, she was running. She halted and welcomed me with a sweet smile. A lock of her hair was on her face and I want to tucked it behind her ear but controlled myself.
"Welcome back." she smiled. Her presence instantly made me calm. She has this specialty in making things feel lighter and better around her.
"Thank you." I smirked. "How are you feeling? Have you eaten dinner?"
"Yup! George and I ate Gumbo. There's leftovers if you want some."
"I didn't know George can cook."
"He didn't. I did."
"I told you to rest and let George do things for you. You have a wounded knee."
"It's not so bad anymore and I'm not used to people doing things for me. If it makes you feel better, I didn't move much while I cooked. George already prepared the ingredients for me. And oh! I made you something. For your birthday."
"Really? What did you make?" I asked.
She gently grabbed my hand and lead me to the kitchen. I could smell the lingering sweet aroma of a dessert. Grace let go of my hand when we were at the table and a miss her touch. There was a plate with a covered lid in the middle of the table.
"Happy Birthday!" she took of the lid and the delicious scent of brownies invaded my nose. "I baked brownies! You're favorite!"
"How did you know it's my favorite?" I asked her. I would always prefer brownies over cake.
"Uh... lucky guess? You look more of a brownies guy than a cake guy," she said avoiding my eyes.
Grace is an open book. She avoids people's eyes whenever she feels shy, nervous or lying. I know her little white lie but I didn't ask any further. "Can I have one?"
"Of course! This is yours." she giggled and it was a lovely sound.
I took a bite and the taste reminded me of someone who used to bake me these. I smile at the nostalgic feeling.
"So... do you like it?" her eyes seeking for my approval.
"Tastes like my mother's," I answered.
"So... you... like it?"
I chuckled. "Yes, I love it. It's delicious, thank you."
She breathed out in relief and smiled. "I was nervous you not liking it."
"Where's George by the way?" I finished my brownie and took another one.
"He's in his room sleeping. I told him I want to wait for you to come home so I can give you your brownies."
"You could've gone to bed and just give it to me tomorrow."
"I could but it won't be your birthday anymore."
"It doesn't matter. I would still eat it even if it was over."
" It does matter! It won't be special anymore if you eat it the next day plus the brownies are still warm."
I shook my head in amusement. There's no winning against her. I noticed her attire. "Tomorrow we'll go shopping."
"Shopping?" she tilted her head; confused.
"Yes, because you don't have any clothes. Mine are too big for you and it isn't appropriate for a young lady to be wearing men's clothes." Although, deep inside I like seeing her in my clothes.
"You don't have to do that—"
"No, I insist. As long as you're here in my home, you're going to be taken care of. Alright?" She blushed and nodded. I smirked and continued eating the brownies.
I haven't celebrated my birthday since I was ten years old. It was just mom and I celebrating in the living room. When she died, I never wanted to celebrate because it was our thing and it didn't feel the same without her until Grace came. Her being here brought back the memories of my mother. For once, I feel happy celebrating it. I feel I'm not alone.