by Romy Sommer
“Tomorrow afternoon?” she asked, hoping fervently she wasn’t pushing her luck. Her stylist would have to pull out all the stops to get her ready for the cameras.
“I’ll let you know when and where.”
She hung up the phone and took a steadying breath. Her heart hammered against her ribs as she stashed the phone inside her bag. Yes!!
She looked for Dom. He and Christian stood at the water’s edge, talking. The tips of their surfboards dug into the sand. She rose on unsteady legs and at the movement Dom turned to look at her.
Clear across the distance of the beach, his gaze met hers. He raised an eyebrow and she could no longer contain her smile. She waved and shouted. “I got it! I got the callback!”
Chapter Thirteen
Nina opened her eyes and wished she hadn’t. Though she hadn’t moved a muscle, her stomach lurched. She was glad she slept on the side of the bed closest to the bathroom door because she only just made it to the toilet in time. Not that there was a lot in her stomach to throw up, but it kept coming anyway, until her whole body shook.
Great. Just great.
She hadn’t been sick like this before an audition in years. Did the nerves really have to kick back in now, when she had a callback in…she glanced through the open door at the wall clock in Dom’s room…only seven hours?
She often suffered a paralyzing attack of nerves the first morning of a new shoot, but never this bad. Usually she couldn’t sleep a wink the night before a new shoot either, but with Dom’s arms cradling her, she’d slept like a baby last night. So why now?
Maybe it wasn’t nerves. Maybe it was last night’s seafood dinner. It had tasted all right at the time… She had to bend down over the toilet bowl again as another wave of nausea hit.
Okay, better not to think about seafood.
Better to figure out how she was going to pull herself together enough to give a blinding performance in the callback.
She peered back into the murky bedroom. Dom’s side of the bed was empty. He must have gone for his usual morning run and let her sleep in. Again. He’d been doing that a lot lately. Because he was growing tired of having her in his space and wanted time away from her? Or because her training was nearly done and he didn’t need to work her so hard?
All going well, she wouldn’t need any more training after today. All going well, she’d be more concerned with negotiating her fee and the size of her trailer for the role of Sonia. Though in all honesty, she’d pay the producers to give her the role.
No more training.
No more trapeze, no more Evan or Gianna or Vicki, or the half dozen other amazing friends she’d made on this journey.
No more Dom.
This time when she bent over the toilet bowl, there was nothing left in her stomach. But the dry retching made her cold and shivery.
This had to stop. Now.
Downstairs a door banged and she heard Sandy’s playful bark. She couldn’t let Dom see her like this.
She opened the door of the closet beneath the basin and her eyes widened. It took her a moment to regroup before she started searching amongst the medicines for something to combat nausea. She found it at the back of the packed cupboard, managed to pull herself to standing, swallow two tablets and splash her face with water, before Dom appeared in the door.
“I got us fresh croissants from the bakery,” he said. “Are you okay?”
“Just a bad case of nerves. Are you running some sort of Canadian online pharmacy from your bathroom?”
“What?” His brow furrowed.
She pointed to the open closet door. “You have more painkillers and anti-inflammatories than a drugstore. And steroid injections.”
“Occupational hazard.” Dom shut the closet door and turned away. “I’ll make a pot of coffee to go with the croissants.”
Nina brushed her teeth and hair and dressed in summery blouse and jeans. Her stylist would provide more Sonia-appropriate clothing for the audition, but for now the jeans were a trophy. They were the cast-off jeans she hadn’t been able to fit into the first morning she’d woken in Dom’s house. It seemed a lifetime ago.
Dom had laid out a spread on the kitchen counter, but she couldn’t face eating. She sipped the coffee, too strung-out to make conversation, and Dom seemed to understand. Before her previous Sonia audition, Paul hadn’t stopped talking, giving her tips and advice until she’d been in a hurry to get away to the safety of her stylist’s care.
“Do you want me to pick you up after the callback?” he asked at last, pulling her out of her abstraction. “Perhaps I could take you out for dinner somewhere to celebrate?”
She shook her head.
His face was a mask, but she didn’t need to see his expression to know what he was thinking. And she was flattered. No, flattered wasn’t the right word. She was pleased. Hopefully this meant he wasn’t quite done with her yet.
She rose from the stool and moved around the counter to stand between his knees. “I don’t want you to pick me up afterwards because I want you to come with me. I need you there with me.”
He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her in close against his body. She lost herself in his warmth and strength. She needed him there with her because she couldn’t do this without him. Even now, his touch drove away her fears, as it had done in the pounding surf yesterday.
She buried her head in his shoulder so he wouldn’t see her tears. What was wrong with her? It was unlike her to get so emotional, so tearful, no matter how keyed-up she was for a callback.
“That’ll be your car,” Dom said, pushing her gently away. She hadn’t even heard a car, but a moment later the doorbell rang. It wasn’t Wendy, though.
“I wasn’t sure what to bring you,” Juliet said, handing a big bunch of flowers to Nina. “They’re for good luck. Break a leg and all that stuff. I really hope you get the role.”
“Are you also going to ask me to put in a good word for them to make Dom the stunt coordinator if I get the job?” Nina teased back. Though she was only half joking. All of Dom’s friends had asked it at some point.
Juliet shot Dom an arch look and shook her head. “No, I don’t want Dom to get the job.”
Dom scowled back and Nina looked between them. But she couldn’t guess what had caused the sudden tension in the air. Dom was his usual taciturn self, giving little away, and for once his sister seemed to have decided to keep her mouth shut.
The kitchen was so quiet that this time the purr of an engine followed by a car door slam was unmistakable.
“That’s my ride,” she said, eager to get away from the atmosphere between the siblings.
She hurried to her room to fetch her bag, not bothering to close the door behind her. And even though the voices in the kitchen were muted, she managed to catch Juliet’s words. “You haven’t told her, have you?”
Dom’s response was drowned out by the chime of the doorbell.
Slinging the bag strap over her shoulder she hurried to greet Wendy at the door. Her stomach churned and she prayed she wouldn’t be sick again.
What hadn’t Dom told her? And did she really want to know? She didn’t want complications, remember?
But she did want to know. And she did want complications. Which was a complication all its own.
“I’ll pick you up at the spa later and take you to the callback,” Dom said.
She nodded, unable to speak, and hurried after Wendy to the waiting car. Her assistant wasn’t driving today. For such a big occasion she’d hired a sedan with darkened windows and a professional driver.
“You’re very quiet today,” Wendy said when they were nearly at the luxury Beverly Hills spa where they’d arranged to meet Nina’s stylist.
Nina shrugged. “I really want this role.”
Wendy gave her a sideways look. “Usually you talk a lot when you’re anxious. But I haven’t seen you really anxious since you moved in with Dominic. He’s good for you.”
Moved in with. Wendy made
it sound so natural, so planned. As if their living under the same roof was more than an expedient work arrangement.
But it wasn’t just a convenient solution to a logistical problem anymore, was it? Somewhere along the way, it had changed into something more. Into something that most definitely wasn’t ‘casual.'
Yesterday had been everything but casual.
She wasn’t sure how she felt about that yet. She’d figure it out once the callback was over.
They passed through the high-security gates to the spa and wound up the long drive. The car stopped beneath a portico, which looked more like something an exclusive hotel would boast rather than a day spa, and the driver got out to open the door for her.
Nina stepped out, then bent back down to look at Wendy. “Could you do me a favor? I’d like you to find out for me what an arthroplasty is.”
Wendy nodded. “Do you need it before the callback?”
Nina shook her head. “No hurry. After will be fine.”
“Wow!” Dom wolf-whistled as Nina stepped out of the day spa, flanked by her entourage. Her hair was back to the luscious long brunette waves he preferred. And she was dressed for the part. Blue jeans that looked as if they’d been painted on her, a plain black t-shirt, leather jacket slung over her shoulder. And a pair of Doc Marten boots that looked as if they’d been artfully worn in.
Admittedly, the fake lashes were back, but those he could live with.
“Lara Croft move over, Sonia Fairchild is here,” he said, bending down to kiss her cheek. He’d much rather have kissed that luscious pink mouth, but he didn’t want to mess her make-up.
Nina grinned, mischief sparkling in her eyes. She might have been groomed and polished these last few hours, the rough edges of his training buffed out of her, but she was still the same Nina he’d spent the last five weeks with. Determined, spunky, indomitable.
Fearless. Incredible.
He’d never met a woman he admired as much. Wanted as much. Loved as much.
His chest squeezed so tight it hurt.
He’d thought himself incapable of loving any woman this way, had said it would take a very rare woman to make him want to give up all the others. Nina was that woman.
“I have a gift for you,” he said, holding out the package. He wished he’d thought to giftwrap it, but it was too late now. She took the t-shirt out of the clear plastic wrapping, shook it out, and laughed.
Printed across the chest of the shirt were the words “I do my own stunts” and a simple graphic of a rider being thrown from a horse.
“Best gift ever.” She rose to the tips of her toes to kiss him. Not a kiss on the cheek, but a full-on, open-mouthed kiss.
Behind her, Dane gave a discreet cough and Dom broke the kiss. He looked up, caught Chrissie’s eye. She looked like a proud mother hen.
“You don’t want to be late,” Dane said. “Have you taken your beta blockers?”
Nina shook her head. “I don’t need them today. I’ve got Dom.” The smile she sent him was enough to knock him off his feet.
“Your chariot awaits, my lady,” he said, waving towards his Wrangler parked in the car park.
For a moment, Nina appeared crestfallen. “No motorcycle today?”
“You don’t want to muss up that gorgeous hair with a helmet,” he pointed out.
She shrugged. “But it sure would be a kickass way to arrive at the callback.”
His chest squeezed tight again, but not in a pleasant way this time. She wasn’t disappointed because she wasn’t going to ride the short distance to the casting director’s office with her arms wrapped intimately around him, but because she wanted to make an impression with her arrival.
Once again, her career took center stage. She’d always been honest that her career was the most important thing in her life. And he’d understood.
There was a time he’d agreed.
Only it didn’t seem enough anymore. Nor for him, at any rate. Not with his own career at an end. And not after everything they’d shared yesterday.
“Thank you for coming today.” The casting assistant who greeted them at the door looked straight past Nina at Dom as she spoke. “I’m Veronique. And you are?”
“Dominic.” He didn’t venture anything further.
She smiled coyly at him. “Is there anything I can get you?”
“Green tea would be great, if you have any, and Evian for Nina.”
“Of course.” She blushed as she finally remembered which one of them was the star.
The assistant led them to a plush waiting room, which looked like it belonged in the pages of an interior design magazine. There were already half a dozen people in the room, who all turned at Nina’s entrance, wreathed in smiles.
The casting director, a voluptuous woman who reminded Dom of Sophia Loren, conducted the introductions. “The director is already in the studio. I’ll take you through to him shortly,” she said to Nina. “Of course, you know Jordan.”
She waved a heavily ringed hand towards the reed-thin actress behind her.
“Of course.” Nina inclined her head politely, her voice smooth, but Dom wasn’t fooled. Her smile was tight, as if she wanted to throw something.
Oh-oh. He’d been unusually candid about his fling with Jordan back on Oscar night, hadn’t he?
“I’m up for the role of Sonia’s sister,” Jordan gushed. “Wouldn’t it be awesome if we played sisters again?”
“Awesome.” Nina’s voice was dry.
“If you don’t mind, Jordan, will you wait here while I take Nina through to the studio?” the casting director asked. “We’ll call you when we’re ready for you.”
“No problem,” Jordan cooed, her gaze rolling over Dom. “I’ll be right here.”
Nina’s eyes narrowed, but she followed the casting director out the room without a word. He watched her stride away and frowned. That wasn’t her usual walk. It took a moment for him to place the movement, then he grinned. Nina had managed to exactly nail Vicki’s stance and pace.
The flock of assistants and producers trailed after them, leaving Dom alone with Jordan.
He took a seat in the only armchair in the room. Not that it deterred Jordan any. She ignored the two spacious sofas and moved to sit on the arm of his chair, her thigh brushing his in a completely unambiguous way. He shifted away.
“We have at least half an hour to kill,” she said, stroking her dark-red fingernails down his bare arm. “I wonder what we could do to fill the time?”
He removed her hand from his arm. “I’m not interested.”
Her eyes grew big and round. It was the same pleading look he’d seen Nina do a dozen times, but on Jordan it wasn’t endearing. It felt manipulative.
She pouted. “You used to be a lot more adventurous.”
“I’m with Nina now.”
“So? You know I don’t mind sharing.”
“I do.”
Jordan looked to where Nina had disappeared down the corridor. “She really owes Gracie Carr big time.”
“What do you mean?”
“You didn’t know Gracie was signed for the role?”
He shook his head slowly. Had Nina known? Of course she had. It explained her strange behavior recently. “So why does Nina owe Gracie?”
“Gracie’s pregnant and she decided to keep the baby rather than the role.” Jordan leaned in, her hair brushing his shoulder. She wrinkled her nose. “Babies make you fat. If it was me, I’d have had an abortion.”
He had no doubt she would. For Jordan, the only person who mattered was Jordan.
She slid off the chair’s arm and into his lap. “Nina doesn’t have to know.”
He shoved her off. The thought of anyone touching him but Nina made his skin crawl. The thought of anyone touching Nina…made him want to commit murder.
With a glare, Jordan picked herself up off the floor and flounced across the room to the sofa. “Your loss.”
Great. Time to kill with no entertainment but a pouty act
ress in a snit. An actress whose assets had never included her conversational ability.
Dom reached for the battered novel resting on top of a pile of glossy beauty magazines. He hadn’t read a novel in years, but it was more appealing than flicking through page after page of cosmetic ads, and definitely more appealing than watching Jordan scowl at him for the next half hour.
He was several pages into Revelations and already eagerly turning the pages when the casting assistant finally brought his tea. He barely noticed when Jordan was called away.
When Nina returned to the room, again surrounded by the flock of attendants, he set down the book and stood. She ignored the flattery and effusive farewells and looked for him, their gazes catching and holding. She smiled and he grinned back.
He was pleased the callback had gone as well for her as it had for him.
He’d discovered two things in the time she’d been gone. The first, and perhaps the most surprising, was that he really wanted to finish reading this book. The second was that he wanted to keep Nina in his life. He wasn’t yet ready to use words like forever and marriage, but he didn’t want what they had to end, and he planned to tell her. Maybe not today, when she was still hyped from the callback, but soon.
The director, Tarquin, turned to follow the direction of Nina’s gaze and his mouth dropped open. “Dom! How the hell are you, mate?” He crossed the room to pump Dom’s hand. “Long time, no see.”
“You know each other?” Nina asked, arching one perfect eyebrow in Dom’s direction.
“We worked together on a movie I shot in England a few years ago,” he explained.
“That was fun, wasn’t it?” Tarquin grinned. “If you aren’t busy, we should get together for a drink and catch up. How about tomorrow night? We can pick up some chicks and make a night of it.”
Now both of Nina’s eyebrows had lifted. At least the movement made it obvious she didn’t use botox.
“I’m up for the drink, but I’m over the picking-up-chicks bit.” Dom didn’t look at Tarquin but at Nina as he spoke. “And we have plans for tomorrow night.”
