by Adele Buck
It was, purely and simply, just that she missed James more than she hated seeing photos of herself out in the world.
The thought made her breath catch. Could she live that life? Could she grow a thick skin, not care about what strangers on the internet thought about her, ignore long lenses and people calling James’ name?
Freddie focused on keeping her breaths long and even, resisted the urge to sprint across the room, grab her phone and text James immediately. She had to think carefully about this instead of rushing ahead and spoiling everything.
She didn’t know how deeply James felt for her, but she knew she couldn’t go through another hopeful coming together only to have everything fall apart again. Especially not right now. She had the show to think about, opening night to get through.
She had to be at the top of her game at work and it wasn’t the time to go diluting her focus on the job with more heartache.
Chapter 15
Freddie rolled her shoulders and took off her headset, breathing a sigh of relief. The first show was behind her, with only minor errors that wouldn’t have been noticed by an audience. The standing ovation from the full house had been thunderous, so there was probably hope for a nice batch of good reviews tomorrow.
Thanking the light board operator, Freddie picked up her bag and her coat and made her way to the dressing rooms. She found her assistant stage managers excitedly mingling with the cast and thanked them for their hard work, encouraging them to head for the cast party. “Try to keep people moving. We don’t want Michael to be lonely.”
Laughing, they agreed and turned to shoo a couple of dancers who had already changed into street clothes toward the stage door. Freddie suppressed a sigh at their eager enthusiasm and headed to the lobby. For what felt like the hundredth time, she pushed down sick dread about the cast party that would start shortly, a few blocks away at a local bar. Susan’s remarks about seeing James there still rolled around in her brain.
Well, if Susan wanted to stick pins in her, Freddie could just walk away. She clenched her jaw and resisted the urge to scan the dwindling crowd in the lobby for James’ familiar face. He wasn’t there. Wouldn’t be there. This wasn’t some sort of magical fairy tale. He wasn’t going to appear just because she wanted him to.
She had to just let it go for now, no matter how much it hurt.
Making her way slowly through the lobby, she had the craven urge to just hit the subway, head home, put on sweats and eat a pint of ice cream next to Miranda on the couch. Instead, she trudged the two blocks to the bar where large windows facing the street showed her the cast party was filling up nicely.
Pulling the door open, she slid through the crowd and wedged herself into a place at the edge of the bar. Finally catching the attention of one of the bartenders, she ordered a gin and tonic. Receiving the drink with thanks, she turned to look at the crowd as she sipped. The cool tanginess of the drink zipped across her palate and she closed her eyes, savoring.
“Where’s James?”
Freddie’s eyes snapped open. She already knew the source of those mocking tones.
“I don’t know, Susan. Why do you ask?” Freddie stared straight ahead, keeping her eyes from the woman at her side.
“Shouldn’t he be here? Or is he too important for an off-Broadway opening night?”
Freddie took a deep breath. Swallowed another sip of her drink. Turned to look at Susan. And then she really looked at Susan. Fine lines fanned out from the other woman’s eyes. The actress’s formerly defined jawline was softer, blurrier. Freddie blinked in confusion.
Susan was aging and she wasn’t doing it as gracefully as anyone would have predicted years earlier.
Freddie realized Susan must be scared.
And then she realized she was feeling sympathy. For Susan Vernon.
Where is my reality and how can I get it back again?
“I don’t know where he is,” Freddie said, sipping her drink, attempting to project a cool she wasn’t feeling.
“Misplaced him? Did you look under the weight bench at the nearest gym?”
Freddie’s pulse sped up and her face burned. She was suddenly angry at James for not being there. Which wasn’t rational or fair, but she was tired and miserable and didn’t care. Turning, she pushed her way through the crowd without bothering to respond to Susan. She would have the one drink, congratulate Michael, and go home. Nobody could ask more of her right now.
But finding Michael was going to be a challenge. The bar had gotten crowded in what seemed to be no time at all. She had no idea where Michael was and no way to find him except blindly wandering around.
She tried to sidestep someone in her path, managed to nearly run into someone else, and almost dropped her drink.
“Easy there, Fred. You’re about to wear that.”
Her head snapped up. Her eyes widened and her heart stuttered.
“James?”
James suppressed a grin. Freddie’s voice was barely a squeak. He had surprised her, but he reminded himself that he didn’t yet know if the surprise was a good one or a bad one.
“What…why are you here?” Her dark eyes were guarded.
“Well, I did have a ticket for the show, but I had to do a last-minute night shoot, so I missed it. I wanted to at least come to the cast party to support you.”
“Why? You walked out on me.” Now her eyes weren’t just guarded, they showed pain. A sharp twist of anger at himself shot through James. He shouldn’t have let go so easily. Freddie was hurt and there was nobody to blame but himself.
“I did. And I’m sorry. I should have fought harder for us. Or given you more space to breathe. Or something. Anything but what I did do.”
“Okay…” Freddie was eyeing him with a dubious expression. It ripped him apart to see her so closed off.
“So you’ve found him, I see.” Susan Vernon’s snide tones slithered into their conversation with a dreary inevitability.
Freddie’s glance flicked to the actress and back to James. “Yes, I did.”
James wished he could take comfort in her affirmation. He didn’t dare look at Susan because his loathing might overwhelm him. “Can we go somewhere else? Talk, maybe?”
Freddie bit her lip. “I need to find Michael. And I’m too damn short to see anyone in this crowd.”
“You’re in luck.” James scanned the crowd and located the director a few yards away. Offering his hand to Freddie, his heart stopped for a moment while she looked at him. Finally, she took it. “Let me take you to your leader.”
Mutually ignoring Susan’s audible muttering of “Rude,” James steered them through the crowded bar to the director.
“Congratulations,” Freddie said when they reached him.
“Congratulations yourself,” Michael said, clapping Freddie on the shoulder. “A great opening night. Couldn’t have done it without you.”
James extended a hand with his own congratulations. “You’re getting two ticket sales from me instead of one. I had to give up my seat for a shoot tonight, but I’ll get another.”
Michael shot an amused glance at Freddie. “I think we can comp you a ticket, James. Don’t you, Freddie?”
Freddie blushed. “Um. Yeah. Of course.”
Interesting. James put Susan’s comment and Michael’s together to form a coherent picture.
Freddie hasn’t told anyone we broke up.
The knowledge made a sudden, fierce hope well up in him, creating a physical pressure in his chest that made it hard to breathe.
Settle down, dude. It might have just been her pride that made her not say anything. Or her privacy.
“Anyway, have a great night, you two.” Michael winked as he turned to greet yet another well-wisher.
“Want to get out of here?” James asked. Freddie looked at him with the wariness back in her eyes and James swallowed hard. He was steeling himself for her to tell him to go fuck himself when she nodded.
“Yeah. Let’s see if we can find someplace q
uieter.”
Here we go again, Freddie reflected as she practically trotted beside James, looking for a bar or restaurant that would be quiet enough for them to have a conversation without screaming.
“Slow down, dude.” She rolled her eyes at James when he glanced down at her, grimacing in apology. “You should know better by now.”
“I know. Sorry. How about this place? We can get some dessert.” James stopped in front of the glass door of a French bakery.
“Fine.”
Going inside, James settled her at a table. “I’ll get something we can share.” He strode to the counter, examining the choices. Freddie’s chest ached just looking at him. There was a slight but noticeable lessening of his usual dynamic presence. If Freddie had to choose one word to describe James, it would probably be confident. But his shoulders didn’t have their usual squareness. His normally straight spine had the barest softness to it. He rubbed his fingers across his mouth and his eyes darted restlessly, looking at his options through the glass case.
He looked miserable.
Freddie’s heart twisted outright at that. He may have walked out, but he obviously wasn’t happy with that decision.
Neither was she.
James received a plate with a slice of what looked like a dense chocolate cake on it, paid, and returned to the table, handing Freddie a fork.
“Okay,” he said, sitting across from her and stabbing into the cake at the same time as she did. His deep brown eyes locked on her. “I’m not going to bullshit you. Cards on the table. I hate life without you. I don’t like who I am. I’m grumpy. I suck at my job. Most of all, I miss you.” His gaze dropped to the forkful of cake and he put it in his mouth, seeming to concentrate totally on the task of transferring calories into his body.
Freddie almost couldn’t breathe. She looked at the morsel of cake on her own fork and slowly put it in her mouth. Bittersweet chocolate spread across her tongue and she chewed, her eyes unfocused.
“Did I fuck it up permanently?” James’ voice was soft, hesitant. She hated the hesitancy. She swallowed hard, clearing her mouth. Focused on him, his anxious face robbing her of breath. Cards on the table, huh? She could do that now that she knew what was at stake.
“No. I don’t think you could ever fuck everything up permanently. I love you too much for that.”
James paused, stunned.
Did she really just say what he thought she said?
A deep flush spread across her cheeks and down her neck. “I mean… I…”
“I heard what you said. Did you mean it?”
Freddie put her fork down, swallowed. James’ pulse raced. He wasn’t sure he could stand it if she said no. “Before you answer, I feel the same,” he blurted.
Her eyes lifted to his and her face got even redder. “You do?”
He nodded, not breaking eye contact. “Yeah. I do. You drive me crazy, Fred. You’re stubborn and proud and smart and funny and sexy as hell and I don’t want to live without you.”
Freddie’s huge eyes seemed to grow even bigger as tears welled in them. One spilled over and ran down her cheek, but she just looked at James without saying anything.
“Hey.” James reached out a fingertip and wiped the droplet away. “Are you good crying or bad crying? What’s going on?”
Freddie choked. “Good crying. Because I was miserable and distracted at work and don’t want to live without you either.” She bit her lip. “Besides, Miranda misses you.”
“Well.” James wrapped his hand around hers. “If the cat misses me, the only thing to do is to get back together and do our damnedest to work it out. Can’t have her pining.”
Sniffing, Freddie wiped her eyes with her free hand. “I should have known that it would be Miranda’s adoring you that sealed the deal.”
“True. Your adoring is the icing on the cake. But I happen to like icing better than cake, so…” James picked up his fork and used the side to cut off a bite, offering it to Freddie, who took it, closing her eyes as she chewed. Her hectic flush was fading but her cheeks were still appealingly pink. He cut a bite for himself and ate it, watching her eyes finally flutter open and settle on him.
“What’s next?”
“You mean how do we bridge the mess and fix stuff?”
“Yeah. I mean…”
“You still hate the publicity. I still have it as a factor in my life.”
“Yes.” Her chin jutted slightly. “But there was a lot more going on the night of the premiere. I might have been…overwhelmed. Overreacting.”
James fought to keep his face from showing his shock. “Okay. So you’re not so freaked by the cameras?”
Freddie shook her head. “No, I still don’t like it. But I think I can handle it. Or handle it better than I did.”
“Is that so?”
Her eyes flicked to the side, then down to the plate as she cut another bite. “Yeah. You’re worth it.”
Rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb as warmth bloomed in his chest, James said, “I also took a step to try to keep things under control. I hired a publicist a few days ago. She’s going to help me strategize. If you want, you can be part of those conversations.”
“How can I help with that? I don’t know the first thing about publicity or anything like that.”
“You can let me know how much of us you want me to talk about to the media. They’re apparently interested in whether or not I’m seeing anybody.”
“You’re seeing somebody and the world can know that.” Freddie’s voice went low and her eyes narrowed.
James laughed, mirth and relief mingling and fizzing in his bloodstream. His shoulders felt lighter than they had for what felt like forever.
“I’ll alert the media.”
Walking out of the cafe, James didn’t just take her hand as they walked down the sidewalk. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, their steps slowing to a very un-Manhattan amble. Freddie let herself be pulled to his side and slid her arm around his waist, leaning her cheek against the cool smoothness of his leather jacket.
“How you doing?” he asked.
“You mean am I worried about cameras?”
“Not specifically, but I suppose that factors into it. I just want to know how you are.”
“If I saw a camera right now I’d probably flip it the bird, but other than that, I’m feeling pretty good.” She squeezed James’s waist and his arm tightened around her shoulders in response.
“Not the family-friendly reaction the network would want, but… between us? Totally fair.” She felt, rather than heard his chuckle.
“Okay. I’ll keep the flock of birds caged. For you.”
“In private, you can let your freak bird fly.”
Freddie leaned out, considering James’s profile through narrowed eyes. “Is that a Lynrd Skynrd joke?”
His jaw tightened, repressing a smile. “Maybe.”
“It’s terrible.” Freddie settled back against his side.
“You’re still here.”
“You have other redeeming qualities.”
He stroked her arm. “Care to go back to my apartment and discuss those redeeming qualities?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
“What about my other girlfriend, Miss Miranda?”
“She has kibble and water and a clean litter box. She’ll be fine.”
“Heartless woman.”
Freddie snorted, reflecting how full her heart felt. “Hardly.”
Chapter 16
James unlocked his apartment door and let it swing open, looking at Freddie as she walked in.
Her jaw dropped. “Holy cow, James. What… How did you get all this done?”
He tried to remember the chaos of cardboard and the random placement of furniture that she must be thinking of. The last time she was here, everything had looked like his house had been ransacked. Scanning the now-tidy room, James smiled a bit ruefully and grasped Freddie’s shoulders, turning her toward him.
&nb
sp; “I had a lot of time on my hands. I wasn’t sleeping very well. My downstairs neighbors probably hate me, because I was shoving furniture across the floor at three in the morning. I really did miss you, Fred.” Her eyes were looking shiny again and James dipped his head, softly kissing her. Her lips were soft and warm against his and he tasted the salt of tears. Drawing back, he saw that she was crying in earnest. “Hey. You don’t have to cry.”
“Yes, I kind of do.” Freddie drew in a deep, sobbing breath, wiping her eyes. “I was so hating the photographs, the attention. I thought I couldn’t live with it. But I was more miserable without you.” She wiped frantically at the tears, dropping her hands in frustration at her sides when they continued to flow.
James swiped his thumbs across her wet cheeks. “You thought you couldn’t live with having people peering and prying into your life. But I’ll do my best to keep them away, keep them at a distance. Hey, maybe when the fans see how crazy we are about each other they’ll give up.”
“Not likely,” she said, but her tears had eased and the corners of her mouth went up the tiniest bit. “Wanna give me the grand tour?”
“I don’t know about grand, but sure.”
“It’s grander than my place, which could fit in your bedroom.”
Her words made him imagine her here. Not just coming over but staying, living here. Taking his books off the shelves and curling up in the corner of the couch. Heck, mingling her volumes with his on the shelf. Her clothes in his closet. He almost laughed out loud as he imagined Miranda curled up not on her bed, but his. Theirs.
Too soon.
But maybe not all that far away, either.
He led her into the big living space, which had reclaimed its open, airy feel with everything arranged neatly. A large, unframed minimalist painting hung over his couch, showing a snowy landscape, bare branches of three trees reaching toward the sky and a snow-packed road stretching into the distance. She paused in front of it, taking in the scene.
