Ryan nodded and then slowly wrapped his arms over my shoulders, pulling me in. My hands automatically slid underneath his jacket and up his muscular back; I nuzzled my cheek on his warm chest. For a moment, I forgot we were standing here rehearsing, just like we did all those times in the apartment when I ran lines with him.
Ryan blew out a relieving gust and whispered in my ear. “Satisfied?” I couldn’t stifle my smile. I laughed lightly and gave the flesh on his back a light rub.
“That was really good!” he continued privately. “I cannot believe you remembered all those lines. You really nailed it. Sure you don’t want to be an actress?” When I opened my eyes, I noticed Jonathan standing near the camera that was pointed directly at us, pressing the headphones to his ear. Next to him stood Nicole Devin, dressed for the scene, looking glassy-eyed and angry. I didn’t need to be a mind reader to interpret her opinion about what she had apparently just witnessed. Her slightly raised arms slapped down on her thighs.
“Oh shit,” I breathed out.
Nicole stormed over to us. I squeezed the back of Ryan’s shirt into a ball in my fist.
“What’s going on?” she asked, volleying her slightly angered glare from my face to his, sniffing from her head cold.
Ryan repositioned himself between us, pushing me behind him. “What do you mean? I’m just running through my lines one more time. Taryn’s my coach. Why? What do you think is going on?”
“Oh,” Nicole said, her face dropping. “I thought. Never mind. I’m here now.” I unclenched Ryan’s shirt; now was as good a time as any to get the hell out of here before I caused permanent damage. “Ryan, I’m going to see if Jonathan still needs me.”
Nicole crossed her arms. “Yeah. That sounds like a good idea.”
My feet that were so ready to flee ground down to a halt. “I was helping him. There’s no need to assume anything else. I would never . . .”
Nicole cracked a little smile, then broke into a sniffing fit. Some of Thomas’s old friends used to have the same sniffing habit.
It made me wonder.
“No, no. Believe me—I’m not. It’s okay,” she finally said nicely. “I think they’re almost ready.”
Instead of meeting her gaze, my eyes locked on to the strange dark shadow on her upper lip. I was just about to walk away when I noticed the drop of crimson fluid drip out from her nostril. It pooled at the edge of her lip before dripping down to the ground, missing her foot by an inch.
“Nicole, your nose is bleeding.” I was surprised she didn’t feel that trickle on her skin.
Her hand flew up to her face. Shaky fingers confirmed the blood. We watched as she ran off in the direction of the trailers.
While Ryan did some walk-through rehearsals, I found a quiet place to work in the wardrobe tent, where the Wi-Fi was the strongest. After all, I still had a business to run. Even though I thoroughly enjoyed seeing him in his element, joking with the crew, being lighthearted and having the time of his life, I also knew I was a distraction.
Marie was being really understanding about my long absence, but my guilty conscience wracked me every day, knowing I was strapping her with my obligations. Fortunately, paying bills and ordering stock were things I could do anywhere.
I thought about returning some phone calls but I really didn’t want to hear Thomas’s voice again. Not right now.
Dina, the woman in charge of wardrobe, took me under her wing like a warm mother hen. She cleared off a small wooden table in the corner for me to have some workspace while I secretly listened to her and her assistant, Darius, gossiping about the rest of the film crew.
Dina peered at me over the top of her narrow glasses, giving me a slightly disapproving look. “I’m surprised you don’t want to be out there watching Mr. Christensen film.
Surely that’s a lot more interesting than hanging with us.”
I shook my head. “Actually there’s more action in here than out there. I find that you two are quite entertaining.” I smiled.
“Mmhmm.” Darius scowled. “If I were you, I wouldn’t let that delicious slice of man out of my sight.”
“Darius!” Dina shrieked.
Darius was young and sort of reminded me of Jet Li, but the drama queen version with two-toned black and white hair. He made me laugh.
“What? You know I speak the truth. That boy is fine. Damn, I should have been an actress.” Darius sighed. “If I were you, peaches, I’d keep an eye on that Nicole girl. I’d cut her forty ways to Sunday if that was my man,” he joked, waving a pair of long fabric shears.