The Redhead Revealed

“Hey yourself,” I answered, rolling a handful of sugar sand between my fingers. His eyes widened when he saw I was topless, and his mouth stretched into that grin I loved so damn much.

He sank down on the mat next to me and handed me my beer.

“You weren’t checking your voicemail in there, were you?” I asked, arching my eyebrow at him as I sipped. Cold and delicious.

“Nope. I promised. No email, no cell phone, no messages. Holly has the house phone, but she knows it’s only for emergencies.”

I sighed happily and sat up. I scooted over and tucked myself into his side so we could both stare out at the ocean. I pretended not to notice that he was sneaking peeks at my boobies. We smiled and sipped and watched.

When I’d opened the plane ticket at Christmas, I couldn’t believe what I read. I had to look on a map to make sure I knew where I was going. The Seychelles were a tiny chain of islands in the middle of the Indian Ocean. We were about 200 miles off the coast of Africa, and 200 million miles away from anything Hollywood. When I realized what he’d pla

The day after our Christmas party, I’d met Michael for coffee as pla

“So, interesting story,” he said, sipping his latte. “When the show was ru

“Are you kidding me? That’s fantastic news, Michael!” I shouted, throwing my arms around his neck.

He laughed and hugged me back. “So I flew out here, met with some of the other producers, and worked up some different ideas. They want to shoot a pilot and position it for cable.”

“Like TNT? USA?” I asked.

“Like HBO,” he said, winking at me.

“Holy shit,” I breathed.

“And, of course, the kicker is…they want you too, Grace.”

So, unreal my life was about to become.

I spent Christmas in L.A. with Holly while Jack flew home to London. He needed to spend some time with his family, and after the Premiere Implosion, it wasn’t really the best time for me to come along. There would be plenty of time for that, and I wanted him to have some time with them by himself.

So after Christmas, I flew across the Atlantic and met up with him in Paris. We spent almost an entire twenty-four hours changing flights and flying in progressively smaller planes—not to mention watching three movies, rehashing the holidays, and talking about all kinds of things—until we were finally over the Indian Ocean.

As the archipelago began to appear, and tiny islands and atoll began to dot the water, I clutched Jack’s hand in excitement, startling him out of his novel. He was interested in producing one day, and was cramming in a last little bit of work by reading books he was considering optioning. However, he promised to be in full relaxation mode by the time we landed at our destination. We were both exhausted, but ready for a vacation.

We changed planes one last time, picking up a puddle jumper for our last island hop. When we landed at the tiny airport, Jack had arranged for a car to pick us up. We were positively dragging by this point, but very excited. The early-evening sun was just begi

We pulled up to the house, and we both gasped. He’d seen pictures. I hadn’t. But apparently the pictures didn’t do it justice because we both stood there, mouths agape.

Pure beach house. It was huge and secluded and private and gorgeous.

As we explored we found the caretaker had already brought in a supply of food, wine, beer, and everything we would need. As we walked through the house, the ocean breeze billowed through the gauzy white curtains that lined every window. The back of the house opened completely onto a huge deck, and there was the ocean. In our backyard.

Too exhausted to do anything, we’d snuggled into the giant bed, pulled up the covers, turned out the lights, and let the ocean lull us to sleep.

Jack nudged me, and I snapped out of my reverie. We’d been here three days now, and had almost another two weeks to go. I was turning a pleasant shade of tan. Jack had burned a little, but was now bronzing and becoming even more beautiful.

So, while I su

How the hell was this my life?

New Years Eve we sat on our deck, sipping wine and watching the fireworks someone was setting off on the other side of the island. It really doesn’t get better than that.

And my other present? I smiled as I sipped my beer, feeling Jack’s hand gently rubbing my back. I’d been wearing nothing but a sarong and bikini top (sometimes not even that much) for the last few days, plus my one new piece of jewelry.

Before I opened the box from Harry Winston, of course for a second the thought flitted through my mind that it was…well…a ring. I’m a girl, and that’s how our minds work sometimes. But he was twenty-four, and neither of us was in any position to get married. We’d barely been together six months, and it was way too early to be thinking it. We hadn’t even managed to move all his stuff into my house yet. Would I like to get married someday? Yep, absolutely. And hopefully to this man. But we both had some growing up to do, and things were pretty freaking awesome the way they were. So a ring? Nope.

It was so much better.

There in the box was proof not only that Jack loved me, but that he got me. He got me and understood everything I needed.

On a platinum chain was a small, circular platinum charm—a little bigger than a dime, but smaller than a nickel. Thin. Engraved on one side, the side that faced my heart, were the words George Loves Gracie. And engraved on the side that faced the world?

schmaltz

No one would understand it, and that’s what made it perfect. It was just about him and me—our own little platinum private joke.

I felt the weight of it against my skin, and my fingers slipped up toward my collarbone, traveling along the chain and coming to rest against the charm. I could feel the engraving, and I rubbed it constantly. Each time Jack saw me do it, he gri

As we sat and watched the end of another day, I snuggled deeper into his side. Here we were just another couple relaxing on the beach.

“You getting hungry, Nuts Girl?” he asked, kissing the top of my head.

“Yeah, a little. We still have some of the shrimp from last night. You okay with that?”

“Sounds good to me,” he replied, standing and draining the last of his beer. He shuffled around in the sand a little, not really walking away, just dragging his feet.

I watched the last of the sun as it dropped below the horizon, making everything glow yellow and red and orange. The lights from the house cast an inviting warmth behind me, and I stood slowly, tying my bikini top back on. He frowned as I covered up the girls, but took my hand when I extended it to him. As we walked back to the house, he tugged my arm, turning me back around. His eyes were twinkling mischievously.

“What’s up, George?” I asked, smiling back at him. He was up to something. He nodded back toward the beach.

There, in the sand, he had written me a little message with his feet:

GRAND GESTURE

“What the hell?” I asked, laughing as he swept me into a hug.

“I know you don’t like big grand gestures, but I thought that one was perfectly sized.” He chuckled as he kissed on my neck.