“Well, I won’t say money is no object, but I take your point, and I think it’s a great idea. If we get everything completely accurate, with you and Zaira working on the minute details, once we find the right place to film, we can get all the things bought or made, and get started. Very good work, Zoe. I knew you’d come up with something." Brad smiled, and as Zaira stared at his breathtaking handsomeness, she was completely swept away by his intelligence, his charm, and his kindness. Whoever he was in love with, she was determined she was going to regret ever having toyed with her and let her go.
So Zaira carried on chatting about things that she was concerned about preserving from her book, and the costumes, and looking for the right museum pieces they could request on loan for the interiors, until he suddenly glanced at his watch and said, “Good lord, it’s five already! I was supposed to be somewhere else ages ago. Sorry, Zoe, but I’ll see you on Monday. And we will meet up again at the end of next week. We’ll see how far you and Zaira can get with some of these ideas.”
He pulled out a small notebook and jotted down a couple of the items they had been discussing, and showed the book to Zaira for her approval.
She held his wrist as he showed her the book, and leaned closer to him, so that her breast brushed his elbow. The contact was electrifying. Zaira said breathily, “That’s fine, I’ll see you then.” She pecked him on the cheek, and walked out of the bar without a backward glance.
“That’ll keep him guessing,” Zaira laughed to herself, as she hurried home to wash the color out of her hair and change.
After half an hour, she was her old self again, Zaira Darcy, and as she firmly settled her new clear spectacles on the edge of her nose, she suddenly began to worry about dinner. She looked in the freezer and found some chicken, so she began to defrost it in the oven, and chopped up some vegetables for a stir fry. She was about to get the rice ready when she heard the bell ring. Checking to make sure her hair was up in a tidy knot, she opened it to see Brad smiling down at her, with another huge bunch of flowers, this time pink and yellow roses, some perfume and a rather crumpled-looking paper bag.
He kissed her on the cheek, and said, “I thought Chinese, if that’s all right.”
She laughed and told him she was already cooking it.
At that he looked very surprised and pleased.
“But your addition will be most welcome. I haven’t started the rice yet, and look, you’ve even got noodles, a favorite of mine,” Zaira assured him, as she looked through the dishes he had brought.
Brad sat down on the sofa and watched her while she admired his presents.
“Thanks ever so much for the other things, but really, there was no need to shower me with gifts. The perfume was what I always used to wear, when I could afford it. How did you guess?” Zaira asked softly, smiling at him.
Brad shrugged his shoulders. “It just seemed to suit you, that’s all. And I wanted to prove to you I was thinking about you.” He looked rather sheepishly at her for a moment, and she wondered why he seemed so guilty and crestfallen.
“I mean, about your incredible generosity to me, welcoming me into your home like this. Ever since I bumped into you that day, it’s like all the pieces in the puzzle of my life have finally fallen into place. I’ve never been happier, or more fulfilled and excited by all the things I’ve been doing since I arrived in New York, and you're partly to thank for that.”
“Nonsense, Brad,” Zaira protested. “You would have been successful no matter what, and you've had dozens of opportunities in the past for artistic fulfilment. Why should this project be any different?”
“I’m not sure,” Brad said, frowning. “It’s just that it's the whole me, the real me. Maybe for the first time ever, I’m not afraid of what people will think or say. I’m out of the goldfish bowl, and the only one to watch over me and judge me is myself. I want to make a film that is going to be worthy of me, and worthy of you, and Zoe Dominick as actress and writer.”
Zaira smiled, oddly moved by his confession. She wondered if he were also feeling bit guilty about his passionate embrace with Zoe earlier. But then decided that he probably was more worried about what his woman on the coast would think of the whole thing, than whether or not Zaira Darcy found out he had been flirting with Zoe Dominick in the middle of their project.
“Right, I’ll just go down to get the rest of my things, which I left with the doorman, and then I’ll go to my room and get settled. Is it all right if we eat at seven-thirty?”
“Sure, it’s my usual time,” Zaira agreed, though in truth she seldom ate in the evenings at all.
Brad disappeared out the door, and she went into the kitchen to put the food in the oven to keep it warm.
When he came back in, Zaira offered to help him carry his things and put them away, but he just shook his head.
“I haven’t got that much with me, and in any case, I would like to suggest that you either prepare your lectures, or work on the screenplay, while I sort myself out, and then we can have dinner and maybe go to the cinema?”
“I’d love to, Brad, but as you say, if we’re going on the shopping expedition tomorrow, then I'd better knuckle down tonight.”
“All right, but it seem a waste of a good Saturday evening, in a way.”
“Well, there’s a late showing of that new French film at Bleecker Street at eleven tonight that I had thought about going to last week, but didn’t get the chance. So, how about work, dinner, work, and then the film as a treat?” she suggested.
“You’re on,” he said, and hurriedly disappeared into his room.
Zaira went into the study and flicked on the desk lamp. She decided to start with her lectures on the Middle Ages first. If she could plan them out for the next fortnight, she would be able to devote more of her time to the play and to the screenplay of “The Dark Lady.” She typed up her thoughts on The Canterbury Tales with a surprising speed and clarity of thought that amazed even herself.
Normally she had to struggle with her words, but now they flowed out of her fingers and onto the page almost faultlessly. Zaira thought briefly about what Brad had said concerning personal fulfillment, and realized it was true about herself as well. She had become much more confident, alert, decisive. Not that she hadn’t possessed all those qualities before, but with Brad at her side, everything seemed so easy, so right, so natural. There were no niggling doubts, and oddly enough, no self-consciousness. As Brad had also said, for the first time in her life, she felt she did not have to fear the judgment of others. She had nothing left to prove, and Brad had trusted her with the project closest to his heart.
Zaira’s lingering fears about his so-called love she pushed to the back of his mind. After all, as he admitted to Zoe, he only thought he was in love, but the feeling was by no means clear or even mutual. Brad had said he was confused, but then, how else did one feel, if one day a person met someone who turned their whole life upside down? In time, Brad might grow to realize that they had so much in common, so much to look forward to in a wonderful future that they could build together, that he didn’t love the other woman after all.
Zaira stood up suddenly, and began to pace around the room. She scolded herself roundly for even thinking he could fall in love with her, her! Plain old Zaira Darcy, his screenwriter. She was married, she was poor, she was in debt. True, there was enough chemistry between them to blow up a science lab, but couldn’t it be just because she was safe, undemanding, and didn’t pose a threat to his other life? If he was going to fall in love with anyone, it would be with the glamorous Zoe Dominick, not mousy Zaira Darcy.
But another part of Zaira’s heart told her Brad truly cared for her, or else how could he possibly treat her the way he did? He had just declared how important she was to him. Maybe there could be some future for them? After all, Zoe was still her, only more bold and daring.
Yet, Zaira reminded herself sourly, any possible future with Brad would depend upon Brad not hating her guts forever when he even
tually found out that she had been deceiving him. But there again, surely he could be fair enough to realize that her double act hadn’t been intentional at first, and had only been maintained in order to keep things flowing smoothly with the project, a financial and personal necessity to both of them. And that she had every reason not to trust him if he was kissing one of them one moment, showering her with presents the next, and yet still had another woman he claimed to be in love with.
She has suspected him of being the two-timing type, and he has proven himself a thee-timer just like the tabloids claimed. No, she had been right to be cautious, and reminded herself she was there to do business with him. There was no point in losing her head, no matter how gorgeous he was. She would have a future with him, all right, but it would be paved with rave reviews, not red roses.
Zaira heard him drop something in the next room, and realized she had better get the food ready. She saved and printed her work on the computer and went out into the kitchen, and soon Brad came out and set the table for her wordlessly.
He moved about the room as if he had lived there for years, not minutes, and then popped back in the kitchen to take the plates from her. “It’s my turn to cook tomorrow,” he said. “How about Indian?
“Great,” she agreed, touched by his offer.
“We’ll do some shopping for the house, and go to the supermarket to stock up. It’s going to be a pretty hectic two weeks, so it will save us some trouble. And here,” he said, as he put down his fork for a minute, “is two months’ rent in advance.”
He handed her a check with many zeroes on it, and Zaira began to protest.
“It’s nothing, really. Now, I had a meeting with Zoe Dominick today, and she’s come up with some excellent ideas.”
Zaira blushed as he ran through the conversation with him she had had earlier, and tried not to smile.
“I’ll look into all those things for you as soon as possible,” Zaira agreed, and then they had coffee together before they headed into the study.
Brad sat in the small wooden chair by the door, and read through her work from the past two days, while she continued to edit her manuscript on the computer. She reflected with amusement that he must think her a genius to get it done so fast, but it was simply a case of manipulating the dialogue into the actors' lines, and adding some stage directions.
Brad also added a few stage directions here and there, and in a different color ink began to make notes about lighting, costumes and settings. He did several sketches of the sets and costumes he had in mind. Zaira admired them enthusiastically, impressed with his skills as an artist, and his vision for the film as a whole. It was almost as though he had read her mind. If she had had the ability, she would have produced drawings identical to those.
Soon both their backs were aching, and Brad reminded Zaira gently that she had promised they would go to the film. They had just enough time to gulp a quick cup of coffee before they walked over to the cinema.
Brad paid for the tickets, and put his arm lightly around her waist as he led her down the dark aisle. Something must have reminded him of the afternoon with Zoe, for he removed his hand quickly almost as though it had been burnt, and he sat stiffly in the rather uncomfortable seats, trying to avoid any physical contact with her.
Zaira sighed and tried to concentrate on the film. It was beautifully made, and she could see Brad visibly relax as he viewed it. They story was very romantic, and in some cases positively steamy. Zaira felt herself go hot all over as the dark haired man and red haired woman made love, and she wondered if that would be what she and Brad would look like together.
But no, he was much more perfectly formed than the actor, and her body thrilled at the thought of his flesh caressing hers as she watched.
Fortunately the scene soon came to an end, but it had left a searing image in her mind of she and Brad together, and she longed for it more than anything else in the world. Zaira guessed he had probably spotted the resemblance himself; what could he be thinking now?
She had no clues as they silently walked back to the apartment building together, and though Zaira longed to ask Brad, she knew he probably didn’t want to talk about the film at all just yet. He was weighing the whole thing up with a professional eye, and would not be interested in any of her remarks.
Once they were in the apartment she went straight into the kitchen and put on some cocoa, and silently he sat down on one of the kitchen stools beside her. She put the steaming mug down in front of him wordlessly, and sat beside him on the other stool.
To her relief, he took a drink and finally spoke. “So much beauty, the light, color, everything. That’s what I’m after. And the woman, exquisite, the love between them captured so vibrantly,” Brad added softly.
Zaira looked into his emerald eyes, and knew she was lost. His lips came down over hers in a kiss both powerful and soul-shatteringly gentle. He caressed her mouth and forced it open with his searching tongue. It was Zaira who finally broke away, covering her mouth with her hand to steady her nerves.
“I’m sorry Brad, but this isn’t a good idea. We hardly know each other, and I'm still married. And you're living here, but we have a project to work on. I don’t want things getting too complicated.”
Zaira wondered how she had the strength of mind to say this when every single nerve-ending in her body was on fire, but then she was really only taking her cue from him. Hadn’t he said essentially the same thing to Zoe today?
“You’re right, I apologize. It must have been the film. I’ll see you in the morning,” Brad said, slamming down his mug, his face inscrutable, and he left her in the kitchen feeling completely bereft.
Zaira tossed and turned in bed for ages, her whole mind and body acutely alert to his presence in the room next door. She knew that in spite of her words, things had grown impossibly complicated, and she loved him, wanted to make love with him. However much she tried to rationalize her feelings, she longed for him with terrifying intensity which increased with every passing moment.
CHAPTER NINE
The next morning Zaira awoke early, feeling restless. She decided to have a long bath to soothe her frazzled nerves, and after drying her hair, she put on her jeans and her best T-shirt, and went into the study to do some work on her lecture notes. After about an hour, she was satisfied that she had covered all the topics she would be doing for the next month, and so could concentrate more fully on Hamlet and the screenplay.
She was tempted to start more work on that, but decided Brad would begin to grow suspicious of the speed she was working at if she kept churning out page after page. Besides, glancing at her watch, she saw it was already ten o’clock, so he was bound to be up and about soon.
Zaira suddenly thought it might be a special treat to have a full breakfast. She couldn’t remember the last time she had had bacon and eggs, and so she busied herself in the kitchen, and soon the apartment was filled with the most delicious aromas.
It was enough to awaken the interest of Brad, who came out of the bedroom toweling his damp hair as she set the table in the living room. Zaira’s mouth opened in awe at the masculine beauty of his naked torso, and his long well-muscled legs. With only a pair of boxer shorts on, he was magnificent, and she longed to run her hands down the smooth chest, with its light sprinkling of hairs.
“Morning!” he said with a smile. “Something smells wonderful, though you shouldn’t have gone to such trouble.”
“It will be ready soon, so you can get dressed first,” Zaira hinted.
For once she saw Brad look a little self-conscious. “Sorry, you’re quite right, I didn’t mean to embarrass you,” he muttered, backing away.
“Brad, I’m not embarrassed, it was just a suggestion.”
“Your wish is my command,” he said with a theatrical flourish and a bow, as he disappeared back into his room.
Soon he reappeared wearing a pair of khaki slacks and a black shirt. His hair glistened in the sunshine which poured in through the win
dow as he seated himself and drank some coffee. He had the screenplay in his hands, and said, “You know, I’m getting really excited about this now. It was only a dream before, but it’s suddenly become a reality.”
“If you like, we could go around some of the galleries today looking for props and ideas,” Zaira offered.
Brad shook his head.
“No, today is devoted entirely to ourselves and to some fun. We're going to buy some things to make the place more cheerful, and I’ll take you out to lunch somewhere. Although with this huge breakfast,” he said, indicating the full plate she placed in front of him with his fork. “So I think we'd better make that dinner.”
“Well, I should do some work today,” Zaira stated, trying to get out of the meal invitation.
“No, my dear, today is Sunday, and besides, I heard you this morning typing away, so you’ve done enough work. Just think of the things you’d like to get for this place, make a list or something, and as soon as we’re finished eating, we’ll go on a spending spree.”
They headed down into Greenwich Village, and looked in many of the galleries and furnishing shops. They had the same taste, bold geometrical patterns in even bolder colors, and it wasn’t long before their arms were filled with packages. They got some tapestries, throw covers and cushions for the sofa and chairs, and a new bedroom set for Brad with matching curtains. They found some wonderful lamps, and Brad even insisted on buying a few long gypsy skirts for Zaira.
“But when would I wear them?” she protested.
“Whenever you like, to be more comfortable. They suit you, with that flaming auburn hair. You should wear it down some time,” he suggested.
She felt herself blush crimson.
“Sorry, I’ve stuck my foot in it again, haven’t I? I know it’s none of my business. I just wish you wouldn’t act as if you were over the hill and your whole life was over. You ought to go out and have fun. You’re not even thirty yet, are you?”
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