“Right. The fact that he’s leaving kind of gave that away.”
“Then what are you still doing here?”
Lily stepped around him and then faced him once more before pushing the elevator button. “I’m staying here.”
The man narrowed his eyes at her as the elevator opened, but said nothing. Stepping inside, she looked up from pressing the button for her floor just in time to see him turn and walk away.
Who is that guy? she wondered as the elevator doors closed.
Chapter Six
After three hours of frantic typing and continuous writing on her laptop, Lily decided this incredible day warranted a drink.
She grabbed her clutch and went down to the hotel bar, where she ordered a martini, hoping the cool, clear liquid would help calm her addled mind. She had too many thoughts racing through her overstimulated brain and needed a few minutes to relax.
While she sipped her drink, she glanced around. The hotel’s well-manicured gardens lay next to the bar, visible through wide glass French doors. Earlier, she had seen the gardens from the balcony of her room, which had an identical set of French doors, and had noticed the lavender and hydrangeas. A thick blanket of lush green shrubbery, bright blue blooms, crisp white bulbs just beginning to open, and tiny purple buds blew gently in the warm night breeze. Daisies, with their vivid yellow centers, added warmth and playfulness to the space.
Since I’m here, Lily thought, I might as well take a quick peek.
Outside, the sun hung low in the sky, casting both brilliant, fiery light and long, dark shadows across the garden. Lily liked that she seemed to have the spot to herself. It was quiet, like a secret garden tucked away from the endless noise and traffic of the famous boulevards that surrounded the hotel.
Lost in her own thoughts, she strolled aimlessly through the maze of hedges and flowers.
“You know, those questions you asked earlier were very good.”
The voice was low and warm, but it startled Lily anyway. Glancing behind her, she heard the click and swish of a lighter erupting into flame and watched as it illuminated a face she knew well.
She blinked, hardly believing he was there—not ten feet away—sitting on a wrought-iron bench, lighting a cigarette.
“Um . . . thanks?”
A soft chuckle escaped his lips, and he extended his hand toward her.
“Hi. I’m Daniel.”
Slowly, she walked over and shook Daniel Brighton’s large hand. “Hi. I’m Lily. Lily Richards.”
He slid over in a clear invitation for Lily to join him on the bench as he exhaled a plume of smoke. She sat down in a bit of a daze, very glad to have a martini still coursing through her system.
“Seriously. Your questions were great. I usually get so bored at these things. It all starts to sound the same after a while, you know? But you kept me on my toes.” A small smirk played on his lips.
Lily blushed. “Well, it’s what I do. I don’t have two degrees in journalism for nothing.”
“Oh, really? Wow. That explains it, then. I mean, I don’t mind doing this. But sometimes the questions are just . . . inane.”
Lily watched as he took another draw on his cigarette. The movement of his mouth and the slight look of concentration that flitted across his features were momentarily mesmerizing.
Clearing her throat, she shrugged. “Maybe they’re just trying to give their readers what they think they want. After all, where you stand on the whole ‘boxers or briefs’ issue is vital information.”
Lily tried to look serious, but her expression gave way to a grin.
Daniel smiled and laughed, running a hand over the stubble that covered his chin. His laugh was deep and soft at the same time, and was a sound Lily wanted to hear over and over.
Lily’s stomach continued to flutter. “So is this okay? I don’t want to get you in trouble with your publicist or anything.”
Daniel stubbed out his finished cigarette with a short laugh. “No, it’s fine. I doubt he would like it, but he’s already gone upstairs to get ready for the photo call. Besides, you’re not planning on printing anything we talk about, are you? Not that I’ve said anything that could get me in trouble.” He paused and glanced her way. “Yet.”
He winked, making her blush.
“Don’t worry, I’m off duty. I just came down here for a drink to clear my head. When I saw the garden and the sunset, I thought some fresh air would be good, too. Anyway, I think I’ve written enough about you for one day. Consider this off the record.”
With that, Daniel seemed to relax, settling even further into the bench. “Good. You know, I haven’t seen you at one of these before. How come?”
“Well, by day I’m a features writer at a newspaper in Nashville. But I also write for FilmInsanity.com. A friend of mine owns and runs the site. We got an invitation to the press junket, so . . . here I am.”
“Hmm . . . here you are, indeed. Are you enjoying it?”
“Absolutely! This is my first time on the West Coast. It’s truly beautiful here.”
“Really? You’ve never been to Los Angeles before?”
Lily shook her head.
Daniel smiled. “It’s home for me, which makes days like this easier to put up with. At least I get to go home and sleep in my own bed.”
“Mmm. I’m sure,” Lily murmured. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she still wondered why Daniel Brighton was talking to her, of all people.
He turned toward her, interrupting her thoughts. “So are you going to tell me what you thought of the movie? I heard there was a press screening for you all last night.”
She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes.
“My review is embargoed until the release date. I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you. And then, not only would I go to jail, but I’d also have millions of girls running after me with proverbial pitchforks and torches, ready to tar and feather me. Or throw me to the wolves. Or some other gruesome torture tactic they come up with. So if you want the goods, you’ve either got to wait like everyone else, or give me a damn fine reason to spill.”
Lily should have known he’d meet that challenge head on. He extended his right elbow, which had been perched on the back of the bench, and placed his hand below her left shoulder. Looking into her eyes with intent, he said one word.
“Please?”
Yeah. That worked.
Lily shook her head, freeing herself from his captivating glare.
“You’re unbelievable! Okay, fine. The movie was fantastic. I loved it. You were more than convincing as Grady. Your performance seemed very authentic. Although, truth be told, I prefer you on stage over the screen.”
“Wait a minute. You’ve seen me on stage?”
Lily froze. She hadn’t meant to let that slip out—or to possibly sound like one of the reasons he needed to use a secret door. Quite suddenly, Lily was fascinated by her black leather Calvin Klein slingbacks. She took a shallow breath and answered so quietly she hoped he wouldn’t hear. “Twice.”
The reaction she got wasn’t the one she expected. At all.
Daniel Brighton laughed at her. He was laughing so hard, he was almost in tears. She bit her thumbnail and nervously glanced at him from under her lashes, relaxing when she saw his reassuring smile. “Should I be worried that they’re letting fangirls cover me now?”
“Oh, I’m sure there are plenty of fangirls who would be more than willing to ‘cover’ you,” Lily said with a smirk—and air quotes. “I may be a fan, but don’t lump me in with the crazies. There’s a big difference.”
Daniel nodded, his laughter subsiding. “You’re right. There is.” He sighed. “So you really saw A Midsummer Night’s Dream and A Streetcar Named Desire?”
“Yep. Montgomery’s not that far away from where I live. And a friend of a friend was your stage manager on Streetcar. So I went to see them.”
“Hmm. Well, I’m glad you enjoyed them. The stage tends to make me nervous.”
“Really?” Li
ly wondered why. Daniel seemed to exude so much effortless confidence.
He rubbed his hand across his chin a couple of times, drawing Lily’s attention the stubble along his jaw. Part of her still couldn’t believe that she was sitting close enough to him to see what color his beard might be if he stopped shaving altogether.
“Yeah. There’s no going back. You can’t do it over. It’s just you and your acting abilities. On display. For everyone to see. And comment on. It’s nerve-racking! With TV or movies, you’ve already moved on to the next thing before your work comes out. Your focus is shifted, so it’s easier to push it aside.”
Lily pondered this statement. Being a smart girl, she was able to put two and two together.
“So I’m guessing you’re . . . media-shy . . . for the same reasons?”
Daniel studied the hydrangeas across the path. “You have the power to hurt me.”
It came out so quietly, Lily wasn’t sure she heard it. And she was more than a little surprised he was talking to her about such a sensitive subject.
“But many of us—including me—never would.” Lily hoped her heard the sincerity in her voice. She knew it wouldn’t be enough to restore his faith in the media, but she hoped it was at least a start.
“Logically, I know that,” he said. “But you all seem to want more than I’m willing to give. I mean, who cares what kind of underwear I wear?”
It was a serious moment, but Lily couldn’t help but snigger. “Okay, I know what you mean. But if it helps at all, I believe that the only time you should be in the press is when it’s tied to your work. Not silly little bits of information about your underwear, or whom you’re dating, or what restaurants you frequent. If, for whatever reason, you decide you want people to know all that, then . . . fine. But until you decide to say something, that’s your personal life.”
A small smile played on Daniel’s lips at her response. “So how did you get into journalism?”
“Oh. Well, I joined my high school’s newspaper staff during my sophomore year. It didn’t take me long to fall in love with journalism. And I’ve been doing it since then.
“What about you? How did you get into acting?” She knew all about his “big break” but she was curious to hear what inspired him to act.
“Actually, I was helping design and build sets for this small play a friend was in. Turns out, that friend broke his leg a week before the play opened, so he couldn’t perform. It was such a small production that there were no understudies. Since I’d been there every day working on the sets, the director thought I might have picked up a few of his lines after hearing them over and over. He was right. And the rest is history. A lot like yours—I was bitten by the bug, you know?”
Lily nodded. She couldn’t imagine doing anything else as a career.
“So many actors do this to become ‘movie stars,’ ” Daniel continued. “But I just want to act.”
They fell into a comfortable silence as the sun made its final descent and darkness blanketed the garden. Lily was reluctant to go, but she had more work to do before calling it a night.
With a deep sigh, she looked over at Daniel. “I should head back inside. But I’ve enjoyed this conversation.”
Daniel smiled and pulled out another cigarette and his lighter. “It truly has been my pleasure, Lily.”
Lily stood, and Daniel offered her his hand one more time. She shook it gently. “Take care of yourself.”
“You, too,” she heard Daniel say, just above a whisper. She swore she saw a look of sadness cross his features for just a second.
Her heels seemed loud as she walked away. She was torn between total disbelief at what just happened and unreal happiness. The kind that caused a smile so wide it made her cheeks ache.
“Hey, Lily!” Daniel yelled.
She stopped and backed up a couple of steps. Meeting his gaze, she nearly stumbled as he flashed a heart-stopping lopsided grin and said . . .
“Boxer briefs.”
Lily started the next morning with a cup of coffee on the balcony of her hotel room. Looking out over the city of Los Angeles, she made a silent wish—or maybe it was more of a promise—that she would come back someday to cover another junket and see more of the West Coast. Although she felt sad to leave California, a bigger part of her felt completely energized. The experience had been a rush like no other, and she was already jonesing for her next hit.
She glanced down at the gardens three stories below. It didn’t take long for her eyes to follow the same path she had taken the night before. And there, sitting on that very same bench, was a familiar figure. She’d forgotten that he’d be back today for the international segment of the junket.
A moment later, he noticed Lily and smiled up at her, taking his lit cigarette from his lips and lifting his coffee toward her. Lily grinned and bowed her head slightly, doing the same with her cup.
Before going back inside, she sighed and made one more wish.
I hope this isn’t the last I see of Daniel Brighton.
Chapter Seven
By the time Lily arrived at home, videos of the press conferences had already circulated online. After she unpacked, she turned on her computer to send in the second batch of stories she’d written. And then the lure of the videos proved to be too much.
She watched the director’s conference first, quickly finding the exact spot where she’d spoken up—it was the third question asked. She smiled to herself as she heard him answer. He was one of the coolest cats Lily had ever met. He spoke loudly and passionately while gesturing with his hands in an apparent effort to get everyone else to feel that same passion. And a scarf of some sort always decorated his neck, no matter what else he was wearing. His love for this movie and the enjoyment he took in bringing it to the public were palpable, and something she wanted to convey when writing about him.
The video of the press conference with Daniel’s South African costar turned out to be much more interesting than she expected. His answers were as sincere and witty as she remembered, but it was a man standing off to the left of the stage who surprised her.
The green eyes were unmistakable. They belonged to the same man who had spoken to her so coldly outside the elevator of the Four Seasons. And like that encounter, his gaze was once again focused on Lily with laser-like intensity. Only . . . it was a different kind of intensity.
Something about it made her uncomfortable. She wondered why he was looking at her in such a way—and why he had treated her so rudely in the lobby. Despite her distaste for his behavior, the heat of his stare made her blush, and she wondered how a man she didn’t even know could cause such a reaction in her.
Lily poured herself a cup of coffee before settling in to watch the footage of Daniel’s press conference. She expected to feel a sense of déjà vu as his face popped up on her screen. After all, she was there in the second row. But as she watched, it struck her how much of it she didn’t remember. His answers to the press’ questions were funnier and even more thoughtful than she recalled. She had paid attention, sure, but it was easier to catch these things now that she was removed from the situation.
At the four-minute mark, she heard herself ask her first question. She was impressed by how together she sounded. Her body and mind had been buzzing like a swarm of bees, but her voice was calm, focused, determined, and professional. Seeing his response was surreal. He, too, had been calm, focused, determined, and professional. And his eye contact never wavered. Part of her wanted to shout “That’s me he’s looking at and talking to!” at the top of her lungs. Another—the larger—part wanted to keep it to herself. Being caught in Daniel Brighton’s gaze wasn’t something everyone got to experience, and she wanted to relish being the center of his attention for those few minutes.
In the two weeks between the press junkets and the release of Borderlines, Lily’s life returned to normal. Or at least normal for her. She was busy at work, catching up with what she’d missed while she was gone, and with the website, fin
ishing all her articles from the events in Los Angeles.
She spent what free time she did have with Maggie and Colette, filling them in on all the details of her trip, but put in long hours all the way until the weekend the movie premiered.
Fortunately, it was a long-standing tradition in Lily’s office that everyone use a photo of their “happy place” as their computer’s desktop background. Since they spent so much time there, it was meant to be visual inspiration—a little something that could make them smile throughout the day.
Some of her coworkers had pictures of their family on their desktop. Lily’s nephews and niece were on hers for a while. Others had photos of beaches, or some other warm, tropical place they dreamed of visiting. For the past year, Lily’s had been a shot she had snapped during her most recent visit to New York City. In it, the Laura Pels Theatre stood with its name in lights across the top of the screen. Just below that, in the left third of the photo, was a poster for A Streetcar Named Desire, featuring Daniel Brighton’s face.
But now that had changed. Now, Lily’s “happy place” was a vivid macro shot of blue hydrangeas. What her coworkers couldn’t see was a wrought-iron bench sitting across from those particular flowers. Lily knew it was there, though. She’d snapped the shot from that very bench just before leaving Los Angeles. And it made her smile whenever she looked at it.
On the Friday the film came out, Colette, Maggie, and Lily had a quick dinner at their favorite Mexican restaurant before heading the theater to see Daniel on the big screen. Of course, it was the second time for Lily, but she was eager to see it again. In all honesty, she found it difficult to review a movie after just one viewing. She knew that initial impressions were important, but she liked to study movies much closer than one time allowed. Particularly when she was distracted by the face of the male lead.
Her review had been posted on FilmInsanity.com that morning. It didn’t yet have many comments, but Lily figured that Daniel Brighton’s name would be enough of a draw to bring in significant page views. She’d also sent a link to some of the fan sites, which would draw even more traffic. Her review touched on the acting performances, the cinematography, and the pacing of the movie. She’d given it four stars out of five, indicating just how much she liked it.
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