“Richard wasn’t bullshitting, you know. You’re seriously talented.”
“Thanks. That means a lot coming from you. And him.”
“This movie is going to be better because you’re in it. That first girl bailing was a blessing in disguise.”
“I should send her a fruit basket,” I half-joke.
Some actresses might be bothered knowing that they were second fiddle. Not me. I bookedLes Misin California when one of the ensemble members left to join the Broadway company. This time it was a big budget feature film that lured the actress who was supposed to play my role away.
Either way, it’s me up on that stage or in the final credits. It doesn’t matter how I got there. So what if there was a bit of luck involved? It’s like one of my acting professors at Pace used to say—luck is when opportunity meets preparation.
Tom laughs. “Or maybe one of those edible arrangement things. But seriously, I hope we get to work together again soon. Maybe on Richard’s next film. I just signed on to play the lead. And I know he’s looking at you for my wife.”
“That would be awesome, as long as it fits with my Mortal Misfits shooting schedule.”
“If Richard wants you, he’ll make it fit.” Tom bends down and kisses my forehead, then gives me a nudge toward the door. “Go. Get ready for your party. I’ll see you at the studio cafe.”
He heads to his dressing room down the hall. I open the door to mine, looking forward to a few minutes alone to decompress before getting out of costume and wiping off my stage makeup.
Before I even step inside, the fragrance of fresh flowers overwhelms me. Lilies, to be specific.
Once I get through the door, I see why. On my vanity is a tall, cylindrical glass vase overflowing with stargazer lilies, their deep pink and white blossoms unmistakable. I walk over and bury my nose in them, inhaling their sweet scent. They must be from production, congratulating me on a successful shoot. I search through the blooms for a card to confirm my suspicion.
“I almost went with roses, but I didn’t want to be cliché. The clerk at the florist said these symbolize prosperity and abundance. I just thought they looked nice. Smell good, too.”
The familiar, smoky voice has my heart racing and my nerve endings on edge. I spin around and see Connor lounging on the futon across the room. He’s wearing a plaid button down with the cuffs rolled to just below his elbows and those damn Jake from State Farm khakis. And he’s never looked so good to me.
“What—?” I sink onto my dressing table chair, not sure how much longer my shaky legs will support me. “How—?”
“I assume you want to know what I’m doing and how I got here.” He sits up and leans forward, resting his forearms on his knees. His brandy-brown eyes bore into me, their magnetic effect not diminished by the few feet between us. “That’s easy. I’m groveling, and your agent helped me grease the wheels with the movie people so I could surprise you.”
“Miriam?”
“Jake tracked down her number for me. It was on one of the comp cards you left at his place. Did you know she’s a closet romantic?”
“Deep in the closet, maybe,” I mutter. I’m starting to regain my equilibrium. And with it, my senses. I have questions for him. So many questions. But first, I need to hear what he has to say.
I kick off the sensible pumps the costumers put me in for the courtroom scene and cross my legs, smoothing my pencil-thin courtroom skirt over my thighs. “If you came here to grovel, you might as well get started.”
He pats the seat next to him. “It would be easier if you were over here.”
“No can do. I can’t think when you’re that close to me.” And I need all my synapses firing for this conversation.
“Okay, then I’ll get straight to the point so we can kiss and make up.” He words are bold and brash, but the sheen of sweat at his temples and the way he keeps nervously licking his lips tell me he’s not as confident as he wants me to believe. “I’m an idiot.”
I try but can’t fight off a slight smile. “That’s a good start.”
“I thought I was doing you a favor. Bowing out so wouldn’t have to choose between me and your career. What I didn’t realize was that it wasn’t fair for me to make that choice for you.”
“I don’t understand.” I shake my head to clear it. I don’t know exactly what I was expecting from him, but this isn’t it. “You said you were breaking up with me because you didn’t want to be thrust into the spotlight, like you were with your father.”
“I was lying,” he admits, at least having the decency to look shamefaced. “I’ll never be totally comfortable living life in the public eye. But if it means I get to live life with you, I’ll learn to deal with all the attention. Because you’re worth it. We’re worth it.”
“I’m not your father, Connor,” I reassure him. “I don’t act for the applause. And you’re more to me than arm candy.”
“I know,” he says, so earnestly it’s impossible not to believe him. “Funny thing is, he’s the one who helped me see what an ass I was being. If it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t be here.”
“Your father?”
