It Happened in L.A.: Ms Match / Shockingly Sensual / Playmates

“That was before I knew him. He’s not the airhead I thought he’d be.”

“Yeah, I know. But the world he lives in is filled with them. It’s a place I have no interest in.”

The waitress showed up and they ordered.

Holly shifted in her seat.

It struck Gwen how attractive her friend was. Her curly hair framed her face perfectly, her lips were full and her wide eyes sparked with intelligence and humor. But Gwen would bet a paycheck that no one at The Ivy would look twice at her because she wasn’t a traditional beauty.

“Paul doesn’t seem to have a problem coming to you. He’s loving it. You’re exactly what the man needed. Even I can see he looks happier.”

“He asked me to go with him tonight, to a dinner at The Ivy. He was meeting some clients. Show business people. He hated that I said no, but what would I do there? I have nothing in common with those people.” And yet, she was jealous. She assumed he’d taken someone else. Someone who fit right in. Someone like Autumn. Or maybe it was Autumn. She shivered.

“What?”

“Nothing.” She would not go there. Not ever again.

“You have Paul,” Holly said.

It took a moment for Gwen to remember the flow of the conversation.

“You admire his business sense, so there’s that. And who knows. He surprised us both. Who’s to say we haven’t been the ones who have it all wrong? What if there are other terrific, smart, insightful people who just happen to be gorgeous?”

“I don’t believe many of them just happen to be gorgeous. I think they work very, very hard at it. I know my sisters do.” She thought again about Autumn, but refused to dwell. “Good God, it’s practically all they can talk about. Working out obsessively, spending all their money on spas and clothes. The only reason they work at all is to finance their addictions.”

Holly snorted just as their drinks arrived. She poured her beer, all the while shaking her head. “I’m sorry, but your family can’t be representative. I’ve never met people more obsessed with looks. God, they’re impossible.”

“That’s just it. They are. Between them all, they’ve injected enough collagen to float a ship.”

“Honey, none of them hold a candle to you. You know that, right? Kudos to Paul for being smart enough to see who you are. A man like that isn’t to be sneezed at. He clearly wants more in his life than Malibu Barbie.”

Gwen wanted to believe it was that simple. “I agree. It’s great when he’s with us. It won’t be like that if I go to his world. They’ll all wonder what he’s doing with a woman like me. They won’t care about what we have in common, or that we have such fun together. They’ll judge him, and he won’t come out favorably. How can I do that to him? His work is all about keeping up appearances.”

“Why do you think he’d give a rat’s ass?”

“Even if he doesn’t now, he will eventually. He’s been that beautiful all his life, Holly. That’s what he knows. I just don’t think I could stand to watch him be humiliated. It would kill me.”

Holly put her hand on Gwen’s. “Look, I’m not discounting what you said, or even denying there’s some truth in it. Still, I don’t think you’re giving the man the credit he deserves. You’re projecting like mad.”

Gwen’s first instinct was to dismiss Holly’s words. She was a friend and a romantic. Of course she wanted a happy ending. Maybe, though, Gwen was underestimating Paul’s strength. She had to admit, he’d surprised her in a hundred ways, why not this?

On the other hand, she’d watched him at the bar, at the ballpark. He used his looks to get what he wanted. It wasn’t intentional, rather instinctual. He was used to being fawned over, having the world handed to him on a platter.

Was it possible even with his best intentions to overcome a lifetime of conditioning?

“I know that look,” Holly said. “You’re thinking too damn much. Here’s an idea—what if you just pretend you can’t see the future? What if you try to be with him as if it’s exactly what both of you should be doing? Let yourself be surprised by what comes next. The worst that can happen is it won’t work out. Give it a chance. He deserves that, and so do you.”

Gwen tucked into her salad. Could Holly be right? Was she simply projecting her worst fears, and would that cause her to miss out on a chance for real happiness? The hell with the diet. She called over the waitress and ordered a glass of wine.

PAUL WHIPPED OUT the flowers he’d been hiding behind his back. Gwen’s mouth opened in a big O that turned into a smile so great it made his whole week better.

“What’s this for?” she asked, taking the bouquet of white and rust calla lilies. “They’re amazing. How did you know these were my favorite flowers?”

He walked inside feeling pretty awesome. “I didn’t. Not for sure, anyway. I knew you liked them because you have that picture in the bathroom.”

She kissed him before she shut the door. “Thank you. Come with me into the kitchen so I can put them in water.”

He obeyed, happily, thinking he wouldn’t mind a cup of coffee. Something that would wake him up. He’d spent all afternoon at Dodger Stadium with a group of producers and directors from the DIY shows he repped. Even though he had three of his people there, it had still been exhausting, and he’d missed most of the game. But the party had gotten them all in one room and they’d agreed to go in together on his year-long promo plans that would cover TV, print and special events.

He’d rather have been alone with Gwen. He’d even have settled for her joining the group, but she’d said she had other things to do.

He sat down on a stool by the bar and watched as she fussed over the flowers. He didn’t actually care how they ended up, just that she was happy.

“They’re stunning. I love them.” She turned to look at him. Her smile faded a bit. “You look exhausted. You want to skip tonight?”

He shook his head. “I’ve been looking forward to it all day.”

She seemed relieved. “Okay. Wine? Beer? Coffee?”

“Coffee would be great.”

“Won’t take me two seconds.” She turned to the cupboard and took out a tiny little coffeemaker, one that made a single cup. She had a little grinder right next to it and in no time the scent of coffee filled the space.

“What else? Did you eat all afternoon, or were you too busy working it?”

“I ate, I think. Nothing too fancy, but really, coffee’s all I can handle for the moment. Don’t worry, though. After a cup, I’ll be ready to go. We can dine anywhere you like.”

“Hmm,” she said, “I was thinking we might just stay here. Watch a little TV maybe, or I don’t know. Perhaps we can find some other way to occupy the evening.”

That woke him right up, although he doubted she meant what he hoped she meant. “Here is good. Here is very good.”

“I’m glad.” She got out some half-and-half, and brought it to him, along with a spoon, a napkin and a white ceramic bowl of sugar.

Paul tried to read her, to see if there was even a remote possibility she’d meant more than watching TV. Her smile was enigmatic, which wasn’t unusual. She was always enigmatic.

She’d worn her hair down and soft, begging to be touched. She had on this really silky-looking blouse, light green that went with her eyes. Shit. She was barefoot under her loose-fitting pants. And her toenails were painted, something light and feminine.

She coughed, making him look up at her face. “I can put on shoes if you like.”

“No. No, no. I like bare feet. Not that I have a fetish about them or anything. I mean, feet are feet, but it’s nice when they look so pretty and…You’re laughing at me.”

“Yes, I am. In a good way.”

He rubbed his face with his hand, thinking it would be really great to take a long, hot shower. Instead, he fixed his cup of coffee and watched her putter. That was enough.

“I had a busy day, myself.” Gwen rinsed out the coffeemaker and brewed another cup. “I shopped and got all my veggies together for the week. Very noble. Then I looked for towels and ended up spending a small fortune on tchotchkes I don’t need.”

“For example?”