A little while later, Bruce heard something he had not expected.
Nicole was laughing.
A few minutes ago, right after that phone call, she had looked like someone whose whole world had gone dark. Now there was an actual laugh in the room.
She noticed him looking over with open curiosity and let the smile fade, then pointed at the laptop screen.
"There was already a file open on your computer. I looked at it out of curiosity. I should've asked first. Sorry."
Bruce shook his head. "It's fine."
She looked back at the screen. "Did you write this?"
"I did."
"What's it called?"
"The Hangover. It's not finished yet."
"The Hangover?"
She repeated the title to herself, tested the sound of it, then nodded.
"That's a great title. And the pages are strong." She looked up at him. "Are you a writer?"
"More or less," Bruce said. "I haven't been doing it that long."
Nicole nodded once, then her eyes suddenly sharpened as she looked more closely at the screen.
"Dongren? Your pen name is Dongren?"
Bruce gave her a curious look. "Yeah. Is something wrong with it?"
"Dongren... Bruce... Bruce Guo?"
Now it was Bruce's turn to look surprised.
"You know who I am?"
Nicole stared at him, clearly re-evaluating everything.
"I've read Pirates of the Caribbean and Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them."
That finally clicked.
Bruce nodded. "I see."
Then, with deliberate modesty, he added, "I've only been writing for less than a year. I'm still figuring things out."
Nicole shook her head right away.
"No. That's not true. You're very good."
She paused, then added dryly, "Except for Fifty Shades of Grey."
Bruce almost choked on the moment.
"Well... after last night, I think it should be pretty obvious I'm not into S&M."
"Of course."
That got a real smile out of her.
There was something unexpectedly charming about the way this otherwise capable, impressive man could still look a little inexperienced when it came to women and relationships.
Then a knock came at the door.
Bruce stood immediately, grateful for the interruption.
"I'll get it."
Outside, a hotel staff member in uniform stood holding several bags.
"Sir, these are the outfit, the lingerie, the socks, and the athletic shoes you requested. And these are the clothes you asked us to have cleaned from last night. You can check them if you'd like."
Bruce took everything, gave it a quick look, and nodded.
"Put all the charges on my room."
Then he pulled fifty dollars from his pocket and handed it over as a tip.
The staffer's smile brightened instantly.
"Certainly, sir. If you need anything else, please let us know."
Bruce nodded, waited for him to leave, then closed the door and turned back.
"Nicole, your clothes are here."
"I'll go change."
As she stood, Bruce added, "Skip the dress and heels. Wear the athletic outfit."
Nicole stopped and looked at him.
Bruce stepped a little closer and lowered his voice like he was letting her in on something.
"I'm taking you somewhere fun. Trust me, you're going to like it."
Women were often more emotionally driven than men, and usually more curious too. Nicole tilted her head slightly and studied him for a few seconds before giving in.
"All right."
"I'll wait out here."
"Okay."
A little later, she stepped back out dressed the way he had asked.
She had changed into the fitted athletic outfit, and her long wavy blonde hair had been tied back with a black band. A few loose strands had escaped and fallen naturally along her cheeks, which somehow only made her face look more striking.
On her, the outfit worked almost unfairly well.
At around five-eleven, she had the kind of height that made everything hang elegantly. The athletic fit showed off her shape without flattening it, slim where it needed to be, soft where it should be. More than that, the change in clothes brought some life back into her. She no longer looked weighed down by everything sitting on her heart. There was energy in her now, and that only made her more attractive.
Nicole noticed the way he was looking at her.
"Is something wrong?"
Bruce shook his head, genuinely impressed.
Nothing about her was wrong.
Quite the opposite.
Looking at her beautiful face, taking in that mature, intelligent presence she carried so naturally, he said exactly what he was thinking.
"Nicole, you look incredible."
She accepted the compliment easily and pointed toward the door.
"Then let's go."
Bruce smiled. "Let's go."
They left the room together.
On the way down, Bruce said, "We should take my car. Your Aston Martin still hasn't been cleaned, and I'm not interested in breathing that smell in again."
Nicole had no objection.
Once they reached the underground garage, the two of them got into Bruce's black Mercedes and drove out of the Beverly Hills Hotel.
Nicole glanced over at him as they pulled into traffic.
"So where exactly are we going?"
"You'll see when we get there."
But Nicole clearly knew Los Angeles better than he did.
They had not even made it halfway before she started to figure it out.
"You're taking me to Santa Monica Beach?"
Bruce glanced at her. "You know the route?"
Nicole gave him a look.
"I've spent a third of my life here. What do you think?"
Bruce nodded. "Fair enough. So you're local?"
"No. I'm Australian. I just work in Los Angeles."
"Work?" Bruce asked. "What kind of work, if you don't mind me asking?"
Then he gave her a quick once-over and smiled.
"You're that gorgeous, so don't tell me you're a movie star."
It was a reasonable guess.
Los Angeles had Hollywood. Hollywood had beautiful people. If you ran into someone striking on the street here, odds were good they were either already in the business or trying to get in.
Nicole looked at him for a moment, then nodded calmly.
Bruce laughed softly. "So I was right. All right, tell me what you've been in. There's a chance I've seen it."
"Party Girl," she said. "It came out this year. Have you seen it?"
Bruce winced.
"Honestly? No. This year's been packed. I haven't made it to the theater much."
"That's okay."
But Bruce was not stupid.
He could tell she did not want to stay on the subject of her work, and he had no interest in making the car feel any more awkward than it already did.
So he let it go.
Now and then, though, he caught himself studying her in the rearview mirror.
Nicole was leaning back in the passenger seat, looking out the window with that same distant, troubled expression. And the brighter daylight gave Bruce more to work with than he had the night before. The shape of her face. The profile. The eyes.
The familiarity kept nagging at him.
Then it hit.
Nicole. Nicole.
Nicole Kidman.
That was why she had looked so familiar.
A flicker of excitement moved through him.
Back when Bruce was in college in his previous life, Nicole Kidman had been everywhere. She had been named one of the most beautiful women in the world by People, and at the height of her career she had been impossible to ignore. Then time had done what it always did. The spotlight shifted. Newer, younger faces came in. By the time Bruce crossed over into this life, his mind went first to Scarlett Johansson, Emma Watson, Gal Gadot, Megan Fox, Anne Hathaway, women from a later era.
Nicole's image had faded enough in his memory that he had not recognized her right away.
But now that he had, other pieces fell into place too.
If the woman drinking herself numb in a bar and raging into the phone was Nicole Kidman, then the man behind it was almost certainly Tom Cruise.
Bruce could not remember exactly when their marriage had started coming apart. Too much time had passed, and celebrity gossip had never interested him that much. But from what little he knew now, the split had to be close.
Even so, he had no real interest in the gossip.
And despite the fact that Nicole Kidman was very much his type, he had no serious plans where she was concerned either.
It was not that he was immune to beauty. He was not.
It was simply that there was no real foundation between them. Compared to Nicole, he would rather spend his effort pursuing Molly Bevan back in England.
Once he settled that in his own mind, Bruce chose not to reveal that he recognized her.
So the two of them drove the rest of the way in relative silence.
At last Bruce pulled in and parked.
"We're here."
Nicole nodded, opened the door, and got out with him.
Ahead of them, the ocean stretched out under a bright blue sky. The beach was busy, noisy, alive with motion. For the first time all morning, the mess in Nicole's life seemed to loosen its grip on her, if only a little.
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