Acting Lessons
Page 13
James seemed to return to the present moment with an effort, looking down at her with an echo of his usual easy smile. “Nah. How many problems can I have if I’m hanging out with you?”
Hanging out. Huh. Freddie wasn’t sure she liked the distancing, casual sound of that. “Do you know her?”
“The woman who was staring at you? No. Why?”
“I can’t think of a reason why a total stranger would glare at me except for the fact that I’m with you.”
James shrugged. “Don’t know her, don’t want to know her if she’s glaring at my date.”
Date. That was better. Freddie stepped closer to him, hooking one finger into the pocket of his jeans, pulling him closer. He came without resistance, smiling at her as he stepped between her and the hostile woman, his hand coming up and tangling in her hair, tugging her head to the side. She allowed her head to list over and he dipped his head to press a swift kiss to her neck.
“Not fair,” she said, shuddering at the sensations shooting through her from the fleeting touch. He straightened, smirking down at her.
“Wasn’t meant to be fair.”
Freddie’s eyes narrowed as she looked up at him. “Smug, aren’t you?”
“Well, I have reason to be. I’m with you.”
“Nicely played.” Freddie’s cheeks heated at the compliment and she looked at the floor of the subway car, not knowing what to say next.
“We get off here,” James said as the car lurched to a stop. Freddie glanced one more time at the hostile stranger, but she seemed to be ignoring Freddie now, looking at her phone with an absorption that looked almost ostentatious.
Keeping his hand on the small of Freddie’s back, James stepped quickly, wanting to put distance between him and whoever that woman was on the train. He thought he had fooled Freddie with his nonchalance, but he couldn’t be sure. Stepping between Freddie and the openly hostile woman, shielding Freddie from her malice, may have been too obvious. But the situation troubled him. He had signed up for the spotlight, as much as it surprised and alarmed him when it came in the form it did. Freddie hadn’t.
James took Freddie’s hand after they passed through the turnstiles and they headed up the stairs to the street. The sun was bright and James dug his sunglasses out of his pocket, flipping them open and sliding them onto his nose one-handed.
“Ooh, I see that Mister Cool has shown up to play.” Freddie’s voice teased and her eyes sparkled with mischief.
Squeezing her hand, he tugged her closer. “You’re cruising for some special treatment later on if you keep that up, Miss Smart Mouth.” He spoke without thinking and a bolt of desire ran though him as he played his own words back in his mind.
Freddie’s teeth worried her lower lip. “That a threat or a promise?”
James’s mind whirred as his feet continued to move down the sidewalk. Were they ready? Was now the time? “Could be either. What do you want it to be?”
She waited a few moments, their steps slowing as they reached the glass awning over the market’s entrance. “I think we’ve done slow long enough.”
James stopped and faced her, pulling her to the building’s red brick wall to get out of the way of passers-by. “No fair making my knees weak when I’m trying to get somewhere, Fred.”
“Hey, you were unfair to me on the train. Turnabout is fair play, I say.”
“Is that a threat or a promise?”
“Can’t it be both?” Freddie’s cheeks were pink, but her eyes were glittering with satisfaction.
“You’re bad. Very bad.” James trailed one finger across her blush, gratified to see it deepen, but her eyes remained steady, looking straight into his.
“Guilty.”
“Come on.” James twined his fingers in hers, pulling her after him as he opened the door to the market for her. “I’m going to need something to eat. I think I’m going to need my stamina up for today.”
“That would be a true statement,” Freddie said as she walked ahead of him into the bustling crowd. James nearly groaned in frustration and anticipation.
This was going to be a long date, even if they only stayed five minutes.
And the full tour was three hours.
I’m going to murder him. Freddie narrowed her eyes at James as he winked and popped a bit of pastry into his mouth. Two more hours? she mouthed. He nodded, his eyes dancing with amusement.
She took a deep breath and uncapped the water bottle that Darrell, their Texas-bred tour guide, handed her as he checked them in, using their names at every opportunity in order to memorize them.
“Isn’t that right, Freddie?” Darrell said.
Her attention hooked by the use of her name, Freddie gave the man a look she hoped was attentive, but she was sure she hadn’t fooled him a whit. He kept up his spiel, hardly seeming to stop for breath.
It was interesting, Freddie thought guiltily. The man knew seemingly everything about the history of the giant old brick building and the trains that had run past and through it, beginning as vast warrens of bakeries and meat packing plants, the location’s seedy history in the late twentieth century, and then its dramatic reinvention as a tourist attraction.
It was just that Freddie was too preoccupied for history lessons. She wasn’t inclined to focus on the past just now. Her mind kept drifting to the future, and the photo of James’s big, inviting-looking bed he’d sent her last night.
Darrell directed the group to the next spot and they were on the move again. They had crossed and recrossed the halls of the market, sampling fried Oreos, lobster bisque, pork pies, halvah, and Freddie didn’t even know what else. As the morning slowly cranked toward the afternoon, the market went from bustling to outright crowded and Freddie had to sharpen her attention to stay with the group and keep from getting trampled as they zigzagged around.
Finally landing in front of a gelato stand in a quieter corner of the market, Freddie received a tiny cone with a generous dollop of cold, minty, creamy sweetness. Despite feeling full, Freddie slurped at the dessert. It seemed to clear her head. She checked her phone. One hour more. James came up behind her, his warm bulk making her body vibrate like a tuning fork.
“We’re headed up to the High Line next,” he said, his warm breath fanning her ear. “Home stretch.”
“Not a moment too soon,” Freddie said.
“All right then, we’re going to head out over here.” Darrell directed them out into a hallway filled with historical photos, instructing them to take a look and compare them with the views they would see in a few moments. Emerging outside, a freshening wind whipped Freddie’s hair around her face. She hunched her shoulders and zipped up her jacket. Ascending the steps to what had been an elevated railroad track that had been reimagined as an urban park, Freddie followed Darrell with the rest of the group. James walked beside her, his fingers laced in hers. She gazed around at the ordered gardens, now looking austere and spare, almost all leaves gone from the trees. The scenery was still spectacular, boats chugging along the Hudson River, the view jumbled with new and old architecture.
James dropped her hand and walked over to Darrell, shaking his hand and saying something that made the other man twinkle with glee and glance at Freddie. Despite the chilly wind, her face heated and she looked at the walkway.
Coming back to her, James said, “I gave him his tip and told him we were cutting out a bit early.” He swallowed with apparent difficulty. “You ready to get out of here?”
Freddie nodded. “Really ready.”
“My place or yours?”
“Miranda will be jealous.”
“Of you or of me?”
“Of me. She wants all of your attention. I vote yours.”
“You okay with the cardboard craziness?”
“You showed me the bed’s made. What more do we need?”
He grinned. “Good point.”
“Springing for a taxi, way to make a splash, big guy,” Freddie said as she scooted across the bench seat of the yellow cab.
Simmer down. He wrapped his palm over her shoulder, the buttery leather of her jacket smooth under his palm.
Freddie tilted her head, looking up at him. “Or maybe you were afraid of seeing another stalker fan type on the subway.”
Damn. She was too perceptive. “Odds are against that happening, but honestly? I didn’t like the way that woman looked. And the subway is efficient—when it works—but it’s also simultaneously public and confining.” Admitting his unease made him feel exposed, paranoid. But if he and Freddie were going to take this next step, he needed to be fully committed. No hiding, no holding back. They were in this together and he needed to treat her as a partner, not someone to be protected and sheltered.
Freddie’s mouth flattened, then she shrugged, her gaze looking past the driver’s head at the traffic on Ninth Avenue. “Nothing I can do about a bunch of ladies finding you the hottest thing since the George Foreman grill.”
He squeezed her shoulder. “You sure you’re okay with everything?”
She inhaled and held the breath for a moment, then said in a rush, “As long as they’re just looking, yeah. I can’t help where their eyes stray. Just as long as that’s the only thing that’s straying.”
“You’re not saying you think I’ll stray?”
“No…”
James bent forward so he could look her full in the face. “Then what are you saying?”
Freddie met his gaze without flinching. “That maybe some of this will start to go to your head. Will you still be you if—no, when the adoration gets big enough to be a distraction?”
Thinking about Alexander’s warnings, James said, “You think my head is going to be turned by a bunch of strangers? They don’t even know me. How is that any kind of anything?”
Freddie bit her lower lip, worrying it for a moment as she thought. “I don’t know. I’m not an actor. I don’t have that kind of personality. I don’t seek the spotlight or applause or anything like that. But I’ve seen plenty of people who do. It gets weird for some people.”
James was about to automatically deny any desire for any of those things, but innate honesty made him stop and evaluate. He had loved the applause ringing through the theater when he had done stage work. The louder the better. And when people rose to their feet to give the cast a standing ovation? Intoxicating. And Alexander had warned him about this very thing—fans, hero worship, all the distractions they represented. It had separated the older man from a woman he had loved once.
But this in-person, individualized attention was different. When he took a curtain call, the applause was for the performance. This random attention on the subway or on the ’net, that was more personal. But also not personal because these people didn’t know him. And that was unnerving as hell.
He wanted to be recognized for what he did, not for what he looked like. He couldn’t even tell himself comfortable lies about the attention he was getting. It definitely wasn’t about the work. It had nothing to do with his acting. Not a single episode of the show had aired yet.
No, all this was based on public relations and marketing. Pure spin.
And likewise, it made his head spin.
Freddie snuck a look up at James’ profile as the taxi lurched slowly uptown. He looked… worried, despite his assurances.
“Care to tell me what’s going on up there?” Reaching a hand up, she tapped his temple with a finger. “With you being so much taller, I sometimes worry you’re not getting enough oxygen.”
James smiled at the joke, a distracted, distant expression. Freddie’s stomach fluttered with nerves. She bit her lip. “Seriously. You’re starting to worry me.”
He focused at this. His clasp on her shoulder tightened and he turned to look at her again. “No. Don’t worry. I’m just sorting through some of the stuff I’ve learned in the last few weeks. Alexander Fox took me out for a drink a while ago. Said some things that I’ve been thinking about ever since.”
Freddie blinked, shaking her head. “Alexander Fox gave you advice.” She chuckled in disbelief. “Wow. Okay.”
“He’s on the show.” James’ expression went defensive. “But I think he’s really on my side in this.”
She folded her lips into her mouth and looked at him. “What did he say?”
“Well, he said I reminded him of himself back in the day.”
“Oh geez.” Freddie took a deep breath, turned to face forward, her eyes unfocused. “Wow.”
“What’s the matter?”
“My mother loves Alexander Fox. Like, still practically swoons when he’s in something. I have a little bit of a sense of how popular he was ‘back in the day.’ He was huge. The panty-droppingest thing of the eighties. And he thinks you’re the next him?”
James shifted on the taxi seat and looked straight ahead. “I didn’t say that. He said something about seeing something of himself in me. Not like I’m the next him. No.”
If it wasn’t so serious, Freddie would have laughed outright at his alarmed expression.
“One thing at a time. You said he gave you advice. What was it?”
James rubbed his fingers across his mouth and Freddie covered his hand with her own, pulling his fingers away from his mouth, fighting back the nerves that his delay produced.
Alexander Fox must have told him to ditch the behind-the-scenes girl, the one not ready for the paparazzi and the red carpets.
She swallowed around the lump rising in her throat. “Really. You can tell me.”
“Can I?” James turned back to her again and Freddie was struck by how uncertain his eyes were.
“Yeah. Come on. You’re killing me over here. Put me out of my misery if that’s what you’re going to do.”
James’s eyes closed briefly and he huffed a short laugh. “Put you out of your misery? When I’ve been worried about you bolting again if I got serious?”
Guilt rocketed through Freddie, increasing the pressure in her throat. “You were worried that I wasn’t all in?”
Shoulders shrugging up, James said, “Well, we have a history. I was scared of…scaring you off. Again.”
Freddie laid a hand on his knee. “But you’re here. And you said you’re here to stay. That makes all the difference.”
“So before, it wasn’t about not wanting me?” James’s voice was so soft it was almost inaudible over the taxi’s badly tuned engine.
Freddie shook her head. “No, if you had stayed here, I think we would have stayed together. But I wasn’t ready to drop everything and go across the continent. And honestly, if you had stayed, I’m not sure I would have been ready for anything big. It might have ended more badly.”
“More badly? Grammar much?” His eyes twinkled with humor.
Swatting his knee, Freddie said, “You know what I mean.”
“I think I do. And you’re probably right.” The humor in his expression softened to something more tender and sad, and Freddie’s heart lurched. He was so open, so defenseless.
“Well, if I’ve seemed nervous it wasn’t about not wanting you, it was about you getting another offer to go somewhere and leaving me behind.” Freddie swallowed and forced herself to keep meeting his eyes. “Or deciding that being famous was too fun and you wanted to be free to enjoy it. I wouldn’t be able to say goodbye so easily now.”
“Is that so?” The skin around his eyes tightened.
Freddie swallowed again, her throat dry now. “Yeah.”
James pulled her tighter to him, his free hand cupping her chin. His deep brown eyes scanned her face. “I’m not planning on going anywhere—at least, not permanentl
y. I might have to go on location for a while or something. But I bought that apartment because I want New York to be my home base. I’m here to stay.”
James’s hand trembled as he reached for the door handle of the taxi and he almost laughed. They had come together so easily that first night. And now he was as nervous as if it was his first time entirely. Wrestling the stiff, creaking door open, he reached for Freddie’s hand, grinning through his nervousness as he caught the ardent light in her eyes.
Pulling her onto the sidewalk and slamming the taxi door closed, James paused. He settled his hands on her shoulders and looked down into her eyes. “You’re still good with this?”
Freddie’s eyes closed briefly, then reopened, flicking upwards in an exasperated eye-roll. “Yes. How many yesses do you need?”
“All of them. Every single one.” Sliding his hands from her shoulders down her back, he pulled her body flush with his, her responsive shiver making his mouth tug into a smile. Ducking his head, he murmured in her ear. “Your yes is everything.”
“You’ve got it.” Freddie’s hands landed on his cheeks and she shoved his face in front of hers. “You’ve got it. Take advantage of it. Take advantage of me. Now. Don’t make me beg.”
James didn’t resist as her hands wrapped around the back of his neck, pulling his lips to meet hers. His arms tightened around her and they sank into a deep, all-consuming kiss. James shuddered as they broke apart and he wrapped his hand around hers, pulling her to the foyer and nodding at the amused face of the doorman. Waiting for the elevator, he merely held her hand, but once they were inside, he pulled her to him again, winding his fingers in her hair and tilting her head back for more. Her lips were hot against his, responsive and ravenous. She tasted of the cool, minty gelato she’d had at the market. She smelled of citrus and spice.
Freddie.
The elevator bell rang and the doors slid open. James nearly didn’t notice, lost in the taste of her mouth, the feel of her body pressing against his. As the door started to slide closed again, he reached out, forcing it open again as he straightened up. His eyes focused on hers, noting the details of her arousal: her dilated pupils, flushed cheeks, and wet, parted lips. Spinning her around, he pressed his front to her back and walked her to his front door, enjoying the sweet torture of her body against his. Pulling his keys out of his pocket, he realized his hands were still shaking.