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‘Oh!’ Ruby pointed her glass past his left shoulder. ‘Is that Ross Barlett? Who starred in Life’s a Bitch with your mother in 1999?’
He glanced over his shoulder to see a distinguished looking older gentleman wearing a well fitted hair-piece with a much younger woman on his arm. They made eye contact, and recognition flickered into the guy’s famous hazelnut eyes before he immediately broke eye contact.
‘Shit, yeah it is him,’ he said, then grasped Ruby’s elbow to steer her to the other side of the bar, as far away from Barlett as it was possible to get.
‘Do you know him? Would you introduce us?’ Ruby asked obviously picking up on the eyeball tango they’d been doing before Barlett had ghosted him. ‘I’ve seen all of his movies.’ She continued trying to sneak a peek over his shoulder. ‘I had no idea he was still alive.’
Luke chuckled at the unintentional insult which he knew Barlett would not appreciate, being the vainest man on the planet.
‘I do know him,’ he said. ‘We have history from that shoot. Which is why I’m not going to introduce you to him, to save you from having all your illusions shattered.’ He steered her towards the doors to the theatre auditorium as the five-minute call sounded. ‘You can thank me later.’
&nbs
p; ‘History? What history?’ Ruby asked, her eyes widening with interest like the movie buff she was.
‘That’s for me to know and you to never find out,’ he said, but he couldn’t help smiling as he led her to their seats.
As long as his mom hadn’t arranged for him to sit within a fifty-seat radius of her former co-star – and even she wasn’t that Kamikaze – he could actually see the humour in his run-in with Barlett all those years ago for the first time.
He might even tell Ruby about it later tonight – if she really wanted to know. It made a pretty funny story, and what was some movie gossip between friends? He had some juicy goods on Barlett. Goods Ruby would appreciate. And goods she wouldn’t rat to anyone else if he asked her not to.
The lights dimmed as the rest of the invited audience took their seats.
All he had to do was survive the next two hours – and get Ruby out of here before she came face-to-face with his mom – and they were all good.
He placed his hand on her knee, rubbed the silky material and felt her shudder.
Response echoed in his groin and he took his hand off her knee.
He had two hours of his mom’s anecdotes to get through first.
Dammit, what the hell were you thinking, inviting her to this show? When you’ve only got three nights left with her?
***
‘Your mum is amazing, she held the audience in the palm of her hand for two solid hours,’ Ruby managed as she was dragged through the milling crowd towards the theatre exit.
‘She likes the sound of her own voice, that’s for sure,’ Luke threw over his shoulder as he whisked them past the bar.
Shoving open a fire escape at the back of the foyer, Ruby was shepherded out into the pedestrian thoroughfare at the side of the theatre.
The musty smell of the Thames was overlaid with the vague aroma of disinfectant. As Luke’s grip tightened on her upper arm, he led her away from the Embankment towards the access road at the back of the complex.
‘Let’s grab a cab before everyone else gets out of there,’ he said as they reached the road.
Ruby pulled her arm out of his grasp as he lifted his other hand to flag down a taxi.
‘But aren’t you going to go backstage?’ she asked, confused now and a little flustered.
The show had been incredible. Helena Devlin was a living legend for a reason. She’d told stories of her days in the theatre and on film, performed everything from Shakespeare to Lin-Manuel Miranda and told a host of hilarious anecdotes. Ruby had been awestruck throughout.
‘Why would I do that?’ Luke said before sticking his fingers in his mouth and letting out a piercing whistle, just like he’d done all those weeks ago in front of Ryker’s office.
A black cab appeared from nowhere and braked in front of them. Again.
How the bloody hell do New Yorkers do that?
‘To congratulate her? To thank her for the tickets?’ Ruby offered as he gave the address of The Royale to the cab driver. ‘To tell her how fabulous she was?’
