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When she pursed her lips, she looked like an erotic schoolmarm. “Shouldn’t you at leasttryto get some more sleep?”
He shrugged. “Never works. I’d rather watch TV.”
“Oh. Okay then.” She stood, perhaps preparing to leave him alone.
“Or we could play cards.”
Laney blinked. “Cards?”
“You know...rummy. Strip poker?”
Hot pink stained her cheeks. “Very funny.”
“I’m not laughing.”
Now she scowled at him. “Do you flirt with all women, or do they fall into your lap on their own?”
He dared not tell her how close she was to the truth. By the time he becameBritain Sheffield—leading man—and not a supporting actor anymore, his whole world had changed, including the availability of female companionship. That surfeit of attention had gone to his head for a couple of months. He had even been propositioned by a leading lady who was far more famous than he was...and older.
He’d turned down the award-winning actress diplomatically. But a couple of other women had become one-night stands. The way he felt afterward made him reevaluate his priorities.
As a young man, he’d heard people say Hollywood was constructed of smoke and mirrors. Already, he had found it to be true. People were invisible until they achieved that elusive thing called fame. Thenfriendscame out of the woodwork. Everybody wanting something, even if it was only a chance to rub shoulders with a celebrity.
“I’m not flirting with you, Laney,” he said firmly. “Flirting implies lighthearted fun. There’s never been anything lighthearted about what I think of you.” Though she had taken a seat, he still feared she might bolt. Her posture was edgy, and she must have been tired, too.
“I’m afraid to ask,” she muttered. Her porcelain skin was still rosy with embarrassment. “Never mind,” she said quickly. “Let’s talk about something else. You’ve never told me how exactly you supported yourself when you first went to California.”
He winced, remembering those frustrating days. The few auditions he’d wrangled had been hell on his ego. “I worked construction,” he said. “I decided if it was good enough for Harrison Ford, it was good enough for me.”
Laney chuckled. “Did you even know anything about construction?”
“Not really. But I was a fast learner, and I put on a good act.” He had played a part, and it had worked long enough for him to gain real skills.
“It’s a long leap from hammering and sawing to the silver screen,” Laney said.
He nodded, remembering those surreal days. “I’m getting to that. If nothing else, I’ve learned that part of life is luck and being in the right place at the right time.”
“What does that mean?”
“My boss bid on a job to build a pool cabana at a well-known director’s house. All of us young guys were thrilled. We thought we might see famous models in bikinis. But it was nothing like that. The director lived alone. He put in long hours at the studio. At some point, he fell into the habit of bringing his morning coffee out to the pool and watching us work. The crew always started early. Most of the guys were afraid to talk to him, but I decided he might be able to give me some advice, so we struck up a friendship.”
“That’s where the luck comes in? Sounds like you created luck for yourself.”
“Not really. Without the job, it never would have happened. Anyway, this director was famous, really famous. So much so that a kid like me from Georgia had even heard his name. He was in the middle of filming a movie. They were using a sound stage in Burbank. One day, he quit showing up. I was so disappointed, and then I felt stupid. My life wasn’t a cinematic romp. Everything wasn’t going to magically go my way.”
“But?”
He shook his head slowly. “It was the damnedest thing. About a week after he went missing—so to speak—he came out to the pool again. But this time, he asked my boss for permission to speak to me in private.”
“Whoa. That’s um...”
“Scary? Weird? Uncomfortable? Yeah, all those things. I was covered in sawdust and sweat. We went inside this amazing house, and he offered me coffee. We sat at his kitchen table. I can still remember the pieces of fruit in a melamine bowl on his counter and the loud tick of a clock on the wall.”
“What happened?”
“He offered me a walk-on part. One line. A total of ninety seconds on screen.”
“What kind of character?”
