“Hey.” He was out of breath, too, but not like her. He came up beside her and put his hand on her back. “What’re you running from?”
She straightened and looked into his eyes. From him, right? Wasn’t that why she couldn’t stand still all morning, couldn’t handle the thought of Bailey or Connor or any of the kids knowing about him? She took two quick breaths and shook her head. “I . . . I don’t know.”
“Yes you do.” There was anger in his eyes now, anger and hurt and confusion. He took a step closer, seeing past her words. “You’re running from me.”
“No.” She looked down and dug her fists into her waist. Then she backed up, her eyes still focused on the sidewalk beneath her feet. “No, that’s not it, Dayne. I—”
He followed her and caught her arm. “Katy. Look at me.”
She didn’t want to, but he left her no choice. The pain in his voice was there for both of them to hear. Her eyes lifted to his. “What?”
“You’re running from me, right? That’s why you didn’t want the kids to see me. You don’t want people to know. I haven’t even gone back to Hollywood and already you’re running.”
His answer was dead-on; she knew it as soon as he spoke the words. The fight left her, and she allowed herself to get lost in his eyes. “It’s all make-believe, Dayne.” Her voice mixed with the rustling of leaves overhead. “The more people who know, the harder it’ll be to let go.” The intensity in her tone increased. “Don’t you see?” She pressed her fingers to her chest. “You’ll go back to your world, and anyone who knows about this . . . about us . . . will see right through me.”
“See right through you?” His expression twisted, and his tone was baffled.
“Yes.” She wasn’t out of breath anymore, but her chest was still heaving, her entire body caught in the emotions of the moment. “They’ll see that I’ve fallen for you.”
She expected him to freeze up, distance himself from her, and promise her that he wouldn’t make it any more difficult than it already was. Instead, the darkness on his face lifted, and he held out his arms to her. “You have?”
“Dayne.” His name came out sounding more like a moan. “Let’s just pretend, okay? I like it better that way. We can jog and laugh and talk, and later you’ll go your way and I’ll go mine. I’ll read in the papers about your movie and how well the shooting went, and someday, years from now, we can both look back and smile about the few days we had together.”
He took hold of the sides of her T-shirt and brought her closer to him. His eyes burned straight through her. “I can’t.”
“How come?” There was a whine in her voice, a desperation. She never should’ve told him how she was feeling. It was enough what she’d told him yesterday, that she cared and that she enjoyed spending time with him. Her mistake had been in kissing him, because ever since then that’s all she’d been able to think about. Through rehearsals and choreographing the orphan scenes, through the whole restless night right up until this instant, it consumed her. But it wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted the laughter and the rain and the walk around Lake Monroe.
He was still holding on to her shirt, still searching her eyes.
She gave a hard shake of her head. “Why can’t we pretend? We both know it’s almost over.” She waved her hand in the air. “Whatever this is.”
“We can’t pretend.” He pulled her still closer, his voice soft and low. “Because I’ve fallen too. I fell last summer.”
“Dayne, no . . .”
For a moment, she pictured Kelly Parker. What would she think if she knew Dayne was standing inches from her in a secluded grove of trees? Or that he’d just confessed to feelings for her that would put Kelly’s future with him in jeopardy? She squeezed her eyes shut. No. She wouldn’t think about Kelly Parker. This wasn’t about Kelly or Dayne or any sense of what tomorrow held. It was simply a moment between two people who could never be together.
A cool wind played in the trees overhead, and thunder sounded in the distance. Rain might be coming again, but she didn’t care. Because even as she was convincing herself of all the reasons she should keep running, she felt him draw her near.
Before she could stop herself, she was in his arms. In his arms and finding her way back to the sweetest place, to his warm embrace and his lips against hers. Because this wasn’t acting or some weird Hollywood thing. It was real and true, and as she returned his kiss, she knew she was wrong. She had told herself she wanted to forget that they’d ever done this. But as the kiss continued, she could only hope one thing: that she would remember it forever.
When he pulled back, he brushed his knuckles against her cheeks. “I don’t know how we’re going to find ourselves through the maze of whatever happens next.” He brushed his lips against her cheeks, her mouth. “But I can tell you one thing, Katy Hart.” His voice was a caress against her face. “This isn’t pretend.”
They kissed once more, and then he nuzzled his face against hers. “Now . . . about that race you started.” He nodded toward the other side of the trees, at the park that lay stretched out beyond. “Let’s see if we can even our pace a little.”
She laughed and they set out together, side by side on the trail until they came to the park. The clouds were darker than before, and she gave him a soft push. “If it rains on us, it’s all your fault.”
“Mine?” He pointed at himself. “Okay, Miss Katy, then you better keep up. I can’t take the blame if you come home drenched again.”
They ran faster on the way home and didn’t stop until they were a few houses from the Flanigans’. The houses in their neighborhood each had five or more acres, so they still had a ways to go, but the rain looked like it would pass.
When they finally reached his car, she leaned on the hood and caught his eyes. “So . . . what happens next?”
He looked at his watch. “Rehearsal, right? Ten o’clock?”
She hadn’t considered that he might want to come back for more. “Dayne . . . Ashley knows, and Rhonda will be there.”
“Shhh.” He put his finger against her lips. “I’ll stay in the back. No one will figure it out. I promise.” He hesitated. “Besides, I’m still thinking about that set-painting position. Ashley and I would work great together.”
For a second, she thought he was going to kiss her. But he glanced at the Flanigans’ front window and grinned at her instead. “I’ll see you at practice.”
She watched him drive off, and then she jogged up the driveway.
Bailey was waiting for her just inside the front door, her hands on her hips. “That was Dayne Matthews, wasn’t it?”
“Who? The guy I . . .” The words died on her lips. She walked the rest of the way inside, shut the door, and leaned hard against it. “Did your mother tell you?”
“No, she wouldn’t say a word. But, Katy, it was so obvious. I mean—” she gestured toward the front door—“he was Dayne Matthews. I’ve seen him in a ton of movies.”
“So he walks in and you recognize him just like that?” She had a feeling there was more to Bailey’s figuring it out.
“Well—” Bailey allowed a small grin—“that and the stuff I heard you talking to my parents about last summer.”
“Bailey Flanigan!” Katy gave her a playful push. “How come you never said anything?”
“I thought the whole Hollywood thing was just about the part, honest. I mean . . .” Her cheeks darkened. “I didn’t know the two of you sort of . . . you know . . . liked each other or something.”
This was exactly what Katy hadn’t wanted, for anyone else close to her to know how she felt about Dayne. He was a movie star, for goodness’ sake. Regular people didn’t fall for actors like Dayne Matthews—not for real, anyway. She sighed and rubbed the back of her neck. “Dayne and I became friends. That’s really all it is, Bailey.”
Her eyes danced. “But, Katy, the way he looked at you! I think he’s in love with you, seriously.”
“He isn’t.” Katy took Bailey’s
hands in her own. “Love is for people who share the same faith most of all. The same goals and dreams and futures.” She shook her head, trying to convince herself as much as Bailey. “Dayne isn’t that person for me, and . . . well—” she pictured Kelly Parker again—“I’m not that person for him.”
She hugged Bailey and gave her a half-stern look. “Don’t tell anyone, okay? People won’t understand. They don’t know I auditioned for a movie.” She paused, studying Bailey’s eyes and seeing understanding there. “Okay?”
“Okay.” Bailey ran off for the stairs and looked over her shoulder. “But Connor figured it out too.”
“Oh, boy.” Katy ran her hand through her hair. “No one else, though?”
“And Tim Reed.” She gave Katy a sheepish grin. “I called him after you left.”
“Great.” Katy tossed her hands in the air. “I’m taking a shower. Let’s leave in twenty minutes. We can talk about it on the way to rehearsal.”
She raced to get ready on time, thinking over the new reality. Enough people knew about Dayne now that it would be hard for him to come to rehearsal this morning unnoticed. Still, he hadn’t seemed to care. The kids would keep their distance, and Katy trusted Bailey. Now that she’d asked her to keep quiet, the girl wouldn’t tell anyone else.
As Katy dried her hair, she studied the mirror, and her words played again in her mind, the ones she had told Bailey: “Dayne isn’t that person for me, and I’m not that person for him.” It was a fact. It was something she’d been telling herself ever since seeing Dayne in Bloomington.
Now if she could just get herself to believe it.
Dayne was sitting in the back of the Bloomington Community Church sanctuary, watching Katy take command of the kids milling about the stage and the first few pews, when his cell phone rang. He half expected it to be Kelly. He hadn’t talked to her since he arrived on Thursday, and by now he knew she was mad at him. She hadn’t wanted him to go, so she would punish him by keeping her distance.
The trouble was, Dayne had hardly noticed.
He looked at the caller ID and frowned. It was the director, Mitch Henry. He probably wondered where Dayne was, since his advice had been to stay away from Bloomington until he absolutely had to be there.
Dayne walked out the back doors of the sanctuary to the lobby. He found a quiet corner and flipped his phone open. “Hello?”
“Okay, Matthews, where are you?”
“On a deserted island.” He tried a laugh, but it died before it reached the mouthpiece. “Hey, Mitch, don’t blow a gasket. I’m in Bloomington.”
“Doing what?”
Dayne looked across the lobby as a few late kids burst through the double doors and sprinted down the aisle. “Taking in a little local theater.”
“Matthews—” Mitch’s tone was defeated—“I told you to stay away from her. Isn’t that what I told you? Don’t mess with her. It’ll only hurt you both, right?”
“I remember something about that.” He turned his back to the lobby, in case any other latecomers walked in. “But to be honest, the details are a little hazy.”
“Tell me you haven’t spent any time alone with her. I’m serious. Kelly Parker was in here this morning, and she’s furious. Told me she had no idea where you were and that you hadn’t called her for three days.” Mitch grabbed a fast breath. “Is that true?”
“I haven’t kept track.” Dayne straightened, feeling the humor fade from him. “Look, Mitch, I wanted to see her. I did, and nothing came of it. There isn’t a gossip-rag photog within a hundred miles of this place.”
“What about Kelly? You live with the girl. Remember her, the gorgeous lady half the guys in America would love to get their hands on?” He sighed. “I need chemistry in this film. Katy Hart wouldn’t take the role, so we gave it to Kelly. Now the chemistry has to be there or I’ll have a flop on my hands.” He hesitated. “You know, Matthews, this isn’t just about you. This is my first big break as a major director, and I want the film to sing.”
“It isn’t a musical.” Dayne felt himself relax. He could work with Mitch Henry—everything would be okay.
“You better make it one.” Mitch calmed a bit. “You’re sure about the paparazzi? No one followed you there?”
“No one.”
“Well, I can tell you this much.” In the background there was a tapping sound. Dayne could picture Mitch sitting at his desk, pencil in his hand. “They’ll be there Tuesday at the latest. You can’t give them anything, Dayne, not a single minute with the girl. Got it?”
“You know, Mitch, for a type-B personality you’re pretty demanding.” He kept his head low, so his voice wouldn’t carry into the sanctuary.
“Type B?”
“See . . . gotcha there.” Dayne laughed. “Come on, calm down. I know my limits.”
There was silence for a minute, and Dayne could almost see the steam coming from the director’s head. “Okay, listen. If you won’t stay away from her for Kelly or for me, then think of Katy Hart.”
It was the first time Mitch had his attention. “What about her?”
“The trial’s coming, Dayne. You want her name linked with yours all over the tabs? Remember what they said before? ‘Dayne Matthews and Mystery Woman Attacked at Beach.’ Well, the minute they get a good shot of you and Katy Hart, the mystery will be over. All of a sudden you’re living with one girl and having an affair with another one—a sweet, small-town girl who does Christian Kids Theater for a living.” He whistled. “If you don’t think that’ll make for some juicy copy, you don’t know the business.”
Not until that moment had Dayne considered this possibility. Yes, he knew their names would eventually be linked over the trial of the deranged fan, and that until this point, Katy’s name had been a secret from the press. That didn’t bother him so much. It was the other part, the part about her being the teacher of a Christian Kids Theater.
He felt like he’d been sucker punched, but somehow he straightened and drew in a slow breath. “Mitch, it’s been great as always.”
“Stay low, Matthews. And call Kelly, send her a dozen roses. Something to make it up to her. I need the two of you at the top of your game.”
“I will be—don’t worry.” Dayne kept his tone light, but his heart and mind were nowhere near light. He finished the call, folded his phone, and slipped it into his pocket. He felt like a thundercloud had descended over him, and as he made his way back to his seat, he barely noticed the rehearsal going on at the front of the room.
He dug his elbows into his thighs and covered his face with his hands. Mitch was right. There was no end to the lengths the paparazzi would go to find a story. And what could be more irresistible than the idea of his having an affair with Katy Hart? Girls like her didn’t come along every day; that’s for sure. The press would want to know where she worked and what she did. They’d tramp across the front pages of their gossip rags the idea that she was thought to be a young woman with high morals, a teacher of Christian principles.
Yet she was traipsing around hidden places, having an affair with Dayne Matthews, who meanwhile still lived with his leading lady, Kelly Parker. They’d probably start following Katy around too, hoping to catch her going to church or doing some other such thing. That way they could call her a hypocrite.
The possibilities turned his stomach. He leaned back and searched the front of the room until he found Katy. She was placing kids in a single line, explaining how they each needed to hold on to the shoulders of the person in front of them.
“Once you have your balance, kick one leg up behind you.” She waved someone over—Rhonda, no doubt. “Watch; it’s like this.” Her hands went on Rhonda’s shoulders, she kicked her leg up behind her, and the two of them hopped forward. “See? You’re supposed to look like a long line of commuters making your way through New York City.”
The kids put their hands on the shoulders of the kids in front of them. But as soon as they balanced on one foot and started hopping, a boy near the
back tripped and fell onto the girl in front of him. The fall started a slow-motion domino effect, and in a matter of seconds, all the kids landed in a heap on the floor.
“Okay.” Katy dusted her hands off and looked at Rhonda. “It needs a little work, but it’ll be great.”
“We can’t do it,” one boy yelled out.
“Yeah, it’s too hard.” Another stood beside him, arms crossed. “Everyone keeps jumping on each other’s feet.”
A chorus of agreement echoed across the stage as the kids untangled themselves and stood up. One little girl was clearly more shaken up than the others. She had her head down, and even from the back of the room, Dayne could hear her crying.
Katy noticed, too, and went to her. “What is it, Maggie?”
“S-S-Sarah Jo.” The girl’s crying got louder, her sobs more pronounced. “I m-m-miss her.”
The other kids realized what was happening. One of the boys sat down cross-legged and looked at Katy. “Sarah Jo would’ve helped us bring this together. She had really good balance.”
“Yes.” Katy looked at the sad faces around her. “She had good balance; that’s true.” She put her arm around Maggie. “But this number doesn’t need one very balanced person.” She held out her arms, and the kids instinctively drew closer, forming a cluster of standing and sitting kids around her feet. “Everyone has to be balanced together.”
“But Sarah Jo should be here, Katy. She should.” Maggie’s face was stained with tears, and several of the older kids hung their heads.
“Sarah Jo is here.” Katy made a fist and pressed it to her heart. “She’s in our hearts and minds, in our memories. We can’t ever forget that.” She bent down and hugged Maggie. “We’re doing our best on this show for her and little Ben, remember?”
There were a few hushed responses, but most of the kids said nothing.
In the quiet that followed Dayne felt like an intruder, an outsider who shouldn’t be privy to this type of private moment. Still, he couldn’t tear himself away from it.
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