Method Acting: An opposites attract, found family romance (Center Stage Book 2)

by Adele Buck

  Colin shrugged. “You appealed to his sense of self-interest. He could see that what you were doing with the others was working, which gave them an advantage. He’s competitive. They all are, or they wouldn’t be here.”

  Arms still folded, Alicia leaned over, nudging her elbow into his ribs. “You’re no dummy.”

  “I’ve met the type all too often. It’s a professional hazard in my field,” he said.

  She nodded and unfolded her arms as a taxi pulled up and the doorman opened the door for her. “I suppose so. I hadn’t thought about it that way,” she said as Colin slid in beside her.

  “Aren’t actors competitive, though?” Colin asked after giving the driver his address.

  “Yes, but usually they tend to be more open to learning just about anything. There’s not as much of that resistance in the first place. Almost any experience can be useful in some role or other. Actors are magpies, and new experiences are shiny objects.”

  He thought about this for a few minutes and then turned back to her with a smile. “So. Enough of those pesky kids. They’re all going back home tomorrow, and I won’t have to think about this event until next year. The real question is what do you want for dinner?”

  Alicia let her head drop to the seat back. “I honestly don’t care what I eat,” she said. “But I could really, really use a shower.”

  Colin took her hand, brought it to his lips. “I can do you one better.”

  Curiosity overcoming her fatigue, Alicia glanced sideways at him. “What exactly did you have in mind?”

  “You’re just going to have to wait and find out.” His hand slid over hers, warm and strong, and Alicia nearly dissolved from weariness and the still-unfamiliar feeling of letting someone else take care of her.

  “Fine,” she said, closing her eyes. “Just this once I’ll let you torture me.”

  He leaned over, and she shivered as his lips tickled the edge of her ear. “Just once?”

  “Mmm. Okay. Whenever you like, then. Torture away.”

  His breath ghosted over her skin as he chuckled, and she almost whined when he straightened up, but the taxi was slowing. Cracking her eyes open, she saw that they had already arrived at Colin’s house. He paid the driver and tugged at her hand as he opened the door. “Come on inside.”

  She hardly needed the urging. Getting out of the taxi, she trailed after him and waited as he unlocked the door. Inside, he led her upstairs. Instead of turning into the master suite, he walked down a short hallway into the guest bathroom. Her eyes widened, and she gave him an incredulous smile.

  “You have a soaking tub,” she said, gazing in wonder at the huge oval of white ceramic. It looked long enough that she could almost lie flat in it.

  “An Englishman needs the occasional bath to be reminded of home. And I am too tall for the tiny tubs that American builders think are sufficient.” Leaning over, he plugged the drain and turned on the taps. “See if the water temperature is to your liking,” he said. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  In a daze, Alicia adjusted the temperature, staring, mesmerized by the rushing water. A few minutes later, Colin reappeared, wearing a tee shirt and shorts and bearing a glass of white wine.

  Setting the wine on the vanity, he turned and pulled a light green, tennis-ball-sized object out of a low cabinet. He tossed it in the water, and it began to fizz and roll, the scent of lemongrass filling the air.

  “Now,” he said, unbuttoning her shirt. “Let’s get you out of these clothes and into the water.”

  She was so tired. Her muscles felt rubbery, her eyes gritty. The kids had taken more out of her than she’d expected. Colin’s hand reached up to cup her cheek, and his lips whispered across her own in a light kiss.

  “Get in.”

  Gripping the sides, she stepped in and slid down, the warm water covering her almost to her chin. Her body nearly melted. Colin picked up her clothes and turned off the tap, handing her the wine glass.

  “Soak until you don’t want to anymore. I’ll be downstairs.”

  Colin brought Alicia’s clothes into his bedroom and folded them, piling them on the chair. He wondered if he should broach the possibility of her keeping some things here.

  Leaving his bedroom, he paused in the hallway. Gentle splashing came from the guest bath, and he had to restrain himself from going in and just looking at Alicia. He could stare at her for hours together if given the opportunity, but he had to admit that it might come off as more than a little creepy.

  Instead, he headed downstairs to the kitchen, opening the fridge and taking a quick inventory. Some leftovers from a couple of evenings ago, some miscellaneous ingredients he couldn’t mentally assemble into a coherent meal. Sighing, he closed the door. Maybe he would just take a page out of Alicia’s book and see if she wanted to order in.

  Dinner tentatively decided on, he opened his laptop to check the news. He clicked on a highlighted article about the television show Alicia would shortly be filming, a satisfied smile spreading across his face as he read the piece. The buzz for the show was off the charts and expectations were running high. No mention of Alicia or her role, but he had to admit that her profile probably wasn’t high enough to warrant publicity.

  Yet.

  A warm glow spread through Colin as he reflected on Alicia’s talents, her skills. He was sure she could succeed just about anywhere, and D.C. was a likelier location than most. Was there anything in New York, other than the promise of a richer supply of work, that might tempt her back?

  He would see if he could make the proposition to stay more attractive.

  Blinking, Alicia leaned over the edge of the tub to place her empty wine glass on the floor. She took a deep breath and sank under the waterline, scrubbing her fingers over her scalp and turning her head to let the water flow through her hair. Rising to the surface, she sluiced the water off her face and slicked her hair back from her forehead. Reluctantly, she pulled the plug, letting the water flow down the drain.

  She stepped carefully out of the tub and plucked a towel off the nearby rail, drying her body, a small amount of energy returning. Looking around the bathroom, she realized that Colin had taken her clothes. She quirked an eyebrow and wrapped the towel tightly around her, padding into the master bedroom.

  Scanning the room, she saw the neatly folded pile on the armchair in the corner. The dress shirt Colin had been wearing today hung half out of a hamper near the closet. She extracted her panties from the pile of her clothes and pulled them on. Instead of donning the rest of her outfit, she walked over to the hamper and plucked Colin’s shirt out, shrugging it on and buttoning it slowly, inhaling the scent of his body that rose off of it with a languid smile.

  Walking downstairs, she went back to the kitchen, and found Colin sitting on a bar stool at his kitchen island, looking at his laptop. He lifted his head, and a slow grin spread across his face as his eyes traveled from her bare feet up her legs to her body clad only in his shirt.

  “That’s a fetching frock on you.” His voice was neutral, but his eyes glittered with humor and heat.

  “I found it in your room. I thought maybe I was supposed to wear it,” she replied.

  Colin reached out, fingering the fabric and pulling her close. Alicia let herself lean into him, lifting her hands to wind her fingers through his hair and humming happily as his mouth covered hers.

  “Thank you for the bath. It was delicious,” she said when he pulled back a little.

  “My pleasure. Those kids exhausted you, and it was all my fault.” His fingers stroked intoxicatingly down the back of her neck, and Alicia resisted the urge to close her eyes and purr like a contented cat.

  “It was tiring, but fun. Different. I like a new challenge.”

  “Good. I’m thinking of taking a page from your book and ordering takeout. What do you want for dinner?”

  Alicia thought about her upcoming job and wrinkled her nose. “Nothing too heavy. I’m going to have to start watching my figure like a hawk.
”

  Colin chuckled. “I could watch it for you…” He laughed outright when she smacked his arm. “But really—why the sudden need for diligence?”

  “I have a nude scene I have to shoot in a couple of weeks.”

  Colin sucked in air, winded as if he had been punched in the gut. “I’m sorry. I’m not sure I heard you correctly. Did you say ‘nude scene?’” he asked, trying to keep his voice neutral.

  Alicia stiffened in his arms. “I did.”

  He blinked, trying to assemble something like a coherent thought. Alicia started to move away from him, her face shuttering.

  “Wait, stop,” he said. “You surprised me, that’s all.”

  Alicia shrugged, but stopped pulling away. “Yeah, well. Part of the job.”

  “You don’t seem very thrilled about it,” he said, running his hands up and down her back, yearning for a return to the relaxed warmth they had shared just a moment prior to her revelation.

  “Thrilled? No, but what am I going to do? Otherwise, it’s a great gig.” Her voice was easy, but her eyes were fixed on a point somewhere over his shoulder, not meeting his.

  “This is the one you pictured me for the audition, isn’t it?” Dread rolled over Colin in a sick wave.

  Alicia’s eyes returned to his face. “Yeah.”

  “So…presumably the guy playing the lobbyist you pictured as me…will be touching you? Kissing you?”

  Fixing him with a steady gaze, Alicia nodded. “What did you think? You’ve seen television, I’m pretty sure. Premium cable can get pretty steamy. You think people who do those shows are imaginary? Virtual people? They’re actors. Like me.”

  Colin’s stomach did a sick roll. Tried to reassure himself that it was her job. Not like any job he’d ever had, but…

  This isn’t like Tressa. Really. It’s not infidelity if it’s…acting. And it’s not like she’s going to really sleep with the guy. It’s all pretend. Right?

  She looked at him, her face hard.

  “I’m still catching up,” he said. “I…don’t know what to say.”

  Alicia did pull away at that. Colin felt his arms hang, limp and useless at his sides.

  “I’m not sure why you have such a big issue with this,” she said, crossing her arms. “It’s not like it’s your body.”

  Colin hesitated, his mind slipping like a misfiring engine. “I have to admit I don’t like the idea of anyone else touching you, let alone…the other things. It hadn’t ever occurred to me that you…that…”

  “You saw me play an old lady and didn’t think I would get any other kinds of jobs?” Alicia threw out her hands, half turning away. “For fuck’s sake, I told you about the audition. It was so sexy it turned you on. You didn’t think the job would have anything to do with that?”

  Alicia’s pulse thudded in her ears. She had let her guard down. Idiot. The bath, the care that Colin had taken for her, had left her so relaxed, happy, and warm.

  But now the air conditioning was too cold. Her legs prickled with goosebumps, and she wrapped her arms around herself, his borrowed shirt riding up her thighs, exposing her. Stealing a glance at Colin, the helpless expression on his face softened some of her resistance. Reaching out a tentative hand, her fingertips skimmed his arm.

  “What’s this about, really?” she asked.

  It was, somehow, the wrong thing. “What is what about?” he snapped. “How about when were you going to tell me?”

  Alicia rocked back on her heels, the hand she had touched him with flying to her throat. Heat and pressure in her skull built, an early warning beacon for her temper.

  “Tell you about…what, exactly?” Her own voice was a silky, dangerous growl.

  His eyes flicked up to meet hers, the dark brown depths seemingly fathomless. “When were you going to tell me that you were going to be taking your clothes off for cameras?”

  Her fragile hold on her anger snapped. “How about you explain to me what the fuck business it is of yours?”

  His head reared back as if he had just inhaled a foul smell, and he looked at her as if she had turned into a new person, a stranger. “How about you consider how I might feel to be blindsided by the fact that you’re apparently going to be getting your kit off and snogging someone else?”

  The fact that he might have a point only increased her rage. “It’s a job, Colin. It’s not like I’m looking to ‘snog’ anyone else. It’s not like I asked to whip my top off and flash my tits.”

  His eyes narrowed, thinking. “So, you’re not okay with it then?”

  Alicia’s hands flew out in a gesture of pure exasperation. “Who cares? Sometimes we have to do stuff we don’t want to do to get to do the stuff we do want to do. And sometimes we have to do stuff we actually hate, just to survive. That’s life. Or, news flash, Mr. Big Shot, that’s life for those of us who weren’t born into money and privilege.”

  Colin’s eyes narrowed as Alicia’s words burrowed into him like a dart. “Is that what you really think of me? Some sort of privileged bloke who never had to do anything he didn’t want to?”

  “I don’t know,” Alicia said, her eyes widening and her arms waving around to indicate the room. “I don’t know what it’s like to take having a home for granted. I don’t know what it’s like to have the sort of security you don’t even see because it’s so ingrained in you.”

  “What does owning a home have to do with anything?”

  “It’s just another thing you got to have a choice about.” Alicia’s teeth gritted.

  “And you don’t have choices?” Colin said.

  “In some ways, no. You get to do your job, what you are trained to do, for as long as you want. I don’t get that luxury. I have to take the opportunities I get when I get them before I get to my sell-by date. And that date is coming.”

  “How do you know?”

  Alicia gave him a withering look. “How many actresses can you think of who are over forty? A few? Really big names? But the ones who had good but not great careers…they suddenly see things drying up. I already have to figure out what I’ll do when I stop getting roles.”

  “That seems absurdly fatalistic.”

  “No, it’s realistic. I can’t afford to think I’ll somehow be special, be different. I have to live in the real world.”

  “You think I don’t?”

  “I think your version of real and my version of real are light years apart.”

  Colin took a deep breath, eyes fixed on her face. She blinked, jaw set. She had been so exhausted, he felt like a cad for arguing with her. She was so vulnerable, standing there in nothing but his shirt. He extended his arms, and she regarded him warily.

  “I’m sorry. I was surprised. I acted badly.” Fatigue rolled through him in a wave, but he kept his arms held out.

  Alicia’s eyes slid to one side. “I guess I should have told you. If nothing else, you should have been warned that Mrs. Thurston Howell III would have something else to hold against me the next time you saw her.” She looked cautiously back at him, and he curled his fingers in a beckoning motion.

  “I promise I won’t bite,” he said wearily. “Unless you want me to.”

  “That’s a terrible joke,” she said, shoulders sagging as she moved back toward him. He inhaled carefully as he wrapped his arms around her. He was acutely conscious of her breasts pressing softly into him, an awareness that increased when she slid her arms around his waist and sighed. He rested his cheek on the top of her head, feeling tension he hadn’t even known he was carrying in his shoulders drain away.

  “So,” he said, straightening up. “To return to the question at hand, what sort of takeout do you want?.”

  “I don’t care.” She moved to sit on one of the high stools at the kitchen island. “I guess we’re okay with, well, everything?”

  Colin turned away from her to grab his phone. “I hope so. I mean, it’s not like you’re working at a strip club, after all.” She didn’t answer. He lifted his head.

 
She was gone.

  Chapter 18

  Alicia’s head buzzed as she walked up the stairs and into the bedroom. She unbuttoned Colin’s shirt and dropped it in the hamper. Moving back to the chair where her clothes lay, she grabbed her bra and put it on, one of the hooks catching under her thumbnail. The small pain made her wince, but she continued to dress, shrugging her shirt on and buttoning it up.

  Colin appeared in the doorway. “What did I do now?” he asked, resignation in his tired face.

  “Nothing. It’s…we’re too different. I was right before.” Alicia avoided his eyes, looking resolutely at one of the paintings on his bedroom wall and pressing her lips together.

  “I must have done something. We went from ‘we’re provisionally fine’ to you being gone in the space of half a minute.” His voice was soft, and Alicia gritted her teeth. She would rather he get angry and hard, give her something to push against.

  Alicia pulled on her trousers and finally looked at him. His expression was gentle, concerned. Something inside her chest wrenched, and she found it hard to breathe.

  “What do you think I did to put food on the table and a roof over my head when I left my family?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “I was eighteen years old, not even a high school diploma, and I didn’t exactly have a trust fund to live off of.”

  Eyebrows drawing together in puzzlement, he just looked at her for a few moments.

  Go ahead, put two and two together. Make four. Make twelve, make a million, for all I care. Just figure it out so I don’t have to say it.

  His expression smoothed, and his head tilted back. “You were an…exotic dancer.”

  Alicia nodded. “If you want to call it that.”

  “At…eighteen?”

  “What choice did I have? I didn’t have a lot of skills. Any, really. Just my body. And it paid better than serving fast food. It enabled me to get the hell out of Minnesota.”