She laughed. “Why? Because I eat dessert?”
He couldn’t help but laugh with her and then the intimate moment passed. “Among other things.” Reluctantly, he let go of her arm. “You did a really nice thing today, Kayla.”
“I’m just glad I could do something for them. I have a job. And they don’t.”
She swung around to unlock her door. Just like his Jeep, there was no automatic lock for the Mustang, she had to use the key. It was the only thing about owning an older model that was inconvenient, but Sean didn’t mind. The Wagoneer was perfect for hauling his surfboards and other athletic equipment around. It also harkened back to a time when surfing was all the rage. It still was for a lot of people. Only Hollywood didn’t make stupid movies about it anymore.
Kayla opened the car door and turned to meet his gaze. “Did you see all the dialogue we have on Monday?”
He nodded. “I haven’t memorized any of it.”
“Me either,” she said, tossing her purse into the car. “Normally I’d start on it tonight but I have plans.”
Plans? What kind of plans? Did she have a date?
Of course she does, you idiot. She was too damn beautiful to be sitting home alone on a Saturday night.
Sean had plans too. He was driving to Pacific Palisades to check on his father’s house. His script was in the Jeep and he’d been planning on going over it while he was there. But now he had a better idea and plunged ahead. “Since we both won’t be able to study our scripts tonight maybe it would help if we got together tomorrow and ran lines together.”
Her eyes widened just a bit; he held his breath waiting for her answer.
“Where?” She rested her hand on the car door.
“How about my house? Around noon. I’ll even provide lunch.”
“That’ll work.”
After he’d gotten her cell phone number and entered it into his phone, Sean’s gaze lingered on Kayla’s bare legs as she slid into her car. He closed the door for her and stepped back as she fired up the Mustang. She gave him a wave, backed out of the parking space and drove toward the exit. As her Mustang disappeared from view, Sean didn’t bother to deny his invitation didn’t have a damn thing to do with work. Yes, there was a lot of dialogue in Monday’s script, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle. In fact, there’d been a number of days in the past ten years when he’d had that much dialogue and more.
The truth was everything about Kayla intrigued him. The more he got to know her, the more he wanted to know. At this moment he wasn’t thinking of all the reasons why he shouldn’t spend time with her. Instead, all he wanted to do was satisfy his burning curiosity about her. Tomorrow, after spending time with her, he might realize that all he was feeling was physical attraction. And that he could deal with in other ways.
But what if it was more than physical attraction?
Chapter Nine
Shay: It’s our wedding night. What do we do now?
Jared: Let’s go to bed.
Shay: What?
Jared: I didn’t mean with each other. I haven’t forgotten this is a marriage of convenience.
Picking up her script from the kitchen table, Kayla shoved it into her purse. A quick glance at the digital clock on the microwave showed that, despite changing her clothes four times before finally deciding on what to wear, she wasn’t running late.
On a normal Sunday she usually wore her favorite shorts, or a pair of comfy jeans along with a T-shirt and flip flops. But this wasn’t a normal Sunday. In five minutes she would be on her way to Sean’s house. And while she kept reminding herself it wasn’t a big deal, the fluttering in her stomach told a different story.
The last thing she had expected yesterday was for Sean to ask her if she wanted to run lines with him. It wasn’t an uncommon practice among actors. But she and Sean rarely had to do it because both of them were always prepared and ready to go by dry rehearsal. And while she could easily memorize her lines by tomorrow morning, she hadn’t been able to resist accepting his offer.
The evening they had shared a pizza at Cheech’s, Sean had directed the conversation so expertly that she’d been the one answering all the questions. Most men—at least the ones she knew—were more than happy to talk about themselves. But not Sean.
Of course, his reluctance to talk about himself only intrigued her more. Today she was hoping to satisfy her curiosity.
As she searched in her purse for her sunglasses, her cell phone rang. Digging it out of the side pocket, she saw Lisa’s name on the caller ID. Knowing her friend, she was probably checking in to see how the fan club luncheon went.
“Good morning,” she said, pressing the speakerphone button.
“How was the luncheon? Did Sean show up?”
“Yes,” Kayla said as she rummaged in her purse and found her sunglasses.
“How was the turnout?”
“The ballroom was packed. The crowd went nuts when Sean was introduced. No one was expecting him be there.”
“And how did the crowd respond to you?”
“I didn’t get the thunderous applause that Sean got, but it was decent. I think Shay’s starting to catch on.”
“I told you so,” Lisa said, her tone more than a bit satisfied. “I’m actually calling for another reason. I know you normally read your fan mail on the weekends. Have you received any more of those threatening letters?”
Glancing at the four stacks of fan mail on the other end of the table, Kayla said, “No. But I haven’t gone through the stuff I picked up on Friday.”
“And did the alarm company come out yet?”
Kayla had called them just as she promised Lisa she would, but she’d forgotten to call her to let her know. “No. They’re sending their consultant out on Thursday. I don’t have to be on set that day.”
“I wish it was sooner,” Lisa said. “Remember that cop I was seeing a few years ago?”
“Luke Slade?” Kayla said, surprised Lisa had brought him up. “Yes, I remember him.” How could she not? A man that gorgeous would be hard to forget. But Lisa apparently had. This was the first time she’d mentioned him since their brief affair ended. “Are you seeing him again?”
“No.” Lisa’s tone was cool. “But if you get any more of those letters I’m going to contact him.”
“Why him?” Kayla asked. “Does he even work in this part of L.A.?”
“I’m not sure where he’s assigned now but despite how things ended with us, I trust him. He’s a good cop.”
Kayla glanced at the clock. “I promise I’ll let you know if I get any more letters.” Picking up the piece of paper she’d written Sean’s address on when he’d called earlier, she slipped it into the pocket of her pants. “Sorry, but I’ve got to run. I have somewhere to be at noon,” she said, deliberately not mentioning where she was going. Dealing with Lance and his assumptions about Sean was enough. She didn’t need Lisa chiming in with her opinion as well.
“I’ll be in touch,” Lisa said and hung up.
Slipping her phone into her purse, Kayla crossed the kitchen to the living room. Before opening the front door, she checked her reflection in the mirror. The outfit she’d decided on was a pair of white capri pants and a yellow tank top. Of all the clothes she’d tried on this combination seemed to be the one that didn’t scream she was trying too hard. After all, contrary to what Lance thought, it wasn’t a date. Today was all about work.
Yeah right, who are you kidding?
“Shut up,” she muttered, thoroughly annoyed with her subconscious.
Reaching for her keys in a shallow bowl on an antique table placed beneath the mirror, Kayla opened the door and tried not to think about Lance’s theory that Sean was interested in her. She and Lance had gotten together last night to see a movie and he’d grilled her mercilessly about the fan club luncheon. Then, of course, she’d made the colossal mistake of telling him about Sean’s invitation to run lines today. The triumphant look on his face made her want to deck him. She
had no doubt he’d call her tonight looking for juicy details. For someone who supposedly had his own hot and heavy love life, Lance was way too interested in her non-existent one.
After using the keypad just above the light switch to activate the alarm, she left the house and locked the door behind her. Slipping her sunglasses on, she headed for her car, all the while telling herself it wasn’t a date.
* * *
Sean had just finished washing down the backyard patio when his cell phone vibrated in the pocket of his jeans. Dropping the spray nozzle on top of the hose he’d just wound into a circle next to the house, he fished for his phone and scowled when he saw his father’s name on the small brightly lit screen. Shit. The last thing he needed was another lecture about his career choice, or another job offer from one of James Barrett’s powerful Hollywood friends. Okay, so maybe he’d gotten a little too comfortable on the soap, but he’d leave the show when he was damn well ready to, and certainly not at the prodding of his father. The old man was lucky Sean hadn’t totally cut him off. Oh, he’d thought about it, but out of respect for his mother, who had loved James Barrett with everything in her, he couldn’t quite cut the cord.
“Yeah,” he answered the call as he surveyed the yard, pleased with his efforts.
“Did I call at a bad time?” James Barrett’s tone was polite and distant. As usual.
“Sort of.” He glanced at his watch. Kayla would be arriving in about fifteen minutes.
“I won’t keep you long,” his father said. “But I wanted to let you know that your agent will be getting a call from the casting director for Steven Spielberg’s production company.”
Sean’s fingers tightened on the phone. “Why would Spielberg’s casting director be calling my agent?”
“You probably know that Steven and Tom Hanks have collaborated on two mini-series on HBO. Steven was in New York and dropped by my dressing room after yesterday’s matinee. He was quite excited about a new HBO project he and Tom have in the works.”
Sean had met the director and the actor several times. They were friends of his father, and both lived in Pacific Palisades. Sean hadn’t seen either of them in years. Not since he’d moved out of his father’s house.
“Please don’t tell me you asked him to put me in his production.” Sean crossed the wet patio, and after wiping his feet on the mat by the door, entered the living room. “You know how I feel about using your name to get parts.”
“It’s just an audition, Sean,” James said and sighed. “I don’t see why you have such an issue about using my name to at least get you in the door. It doesn’t guarantee anything. You still have to impress them with your talent.”
Sean closed the screen door. “I’m happy where I am.”
“You’re working on a soap opera, for Christ’s sake.”
“I’m not having this conversation again,” Sean said, running a frustrated hand through his hair.
“Are you saying you won’t even consider it?” James asked. “Most actors would kill for a role in one of Steven’s productions.
“I’m not most actors.”
“Are you afraid, Sean?”
“Afraid?” he exclaimed. “Of what?”
“Of being compared to me.”
He bristled. “This isn’t about you. If I wanted to leave the soap, I would.” Sean’s jaw tensed. He hated that his father could make him so angry. “Why can’t you get it through your head that I make my own decisions about my career? I don’t need you running interference for me with Steven Spielberg, or anyone else for that matter.”
“I just want to help you,” James said, his voice low. “I’m your father, Sean.”
“You haven’t been a father to me since Mom died,” Sean ground out. His heart pounded as all the memories of that day flooded him.
It had been a beautiful summer day, perfect for surfing. Back then surfing was all he wanted to do and he’d even imagined himself as the next Kelly Slater—the pro surfer he and Matt worshipped. He was so caught up in the sport that when his mom had asked him to do one simple thing, he’d blown her off and rushed out of the house without even giving her a kiss goodbye.
There was a tense silence and then his father spoke. “We shouldn’t talk about this over the phone.”
“I couldn’t agree more. In fact, I don’t think we need to talk about it at all. It doesn’t change a damn thing.”
“That’s one thing we agree on. But this conversation is far from over. You and I are going to continue this when I get home from New York.” Before Sean could reply, his father changed the subject. “Were you able to check the house?”
“I went out there yesterday afternoon.” Sean moved to the kitchen. “Everything’s fine. I have to go,” he said brusquely. “I’m expecting someone in a few minutes.”
“Very well. But I wish you’d reconsider Steven’s project. It’s a wonderful opportunity.”
“Goodbye.” Not waiting for a response, Sean ended the call. Setting the phone on the counter, he scrubbed a hand over his jaw.
Of all the memories he had of his mother, the one he couldn’t forget was the one he wished he could go back and change. A do-over. He’d sell his soul for one. Only there was no such thing.
Glancing again at his watch, Sean forced the memory of that day and his father from his mind. Dwelling on the past didn’t change that fact that if it wasn’t for his selfish actions, his mother would still be alive.
That’s what his father had told him, and in his heart, Sean knew it was the truth.
* * *
Kayla parked her Mustang in front of the Ambrose Avenue address Sean had given her. Like most homes in the Los Feliz area, the architecture was Spanish. For several moments, Kayla sat in the car and admired the house. It was a single story house with a terracotta tile roof, which contrasted nicely with the pale orange stucco. An arched portico, as well as arched windows, gave the home tremendous curb appeal. The front yard was nicely landscaped with two medium size palm trees on either side of two brick pedestals with what looked like old fashioned gas lamps on top of them.
After getting out of her car and locking it, she walked up the tiered brick walkway to the front door and pressed the doorbell. As she waited, she removed her sunglasses and slipped them into her purse.
When the door opened, Kayla met Sean’s eyes and, in what was becoming a regular occurrence, the physical attraction she felt for him flooded her body. Tightening her grip on her purse, she tried to ignore the way her pulse was suddenly racing at a dizzying speed and returned his famous grin. The same grin that had every woman at the luncheon yesterday practically drooling. Her included.
“Hey.” He held the door open so she could enter. He was wearing faded jeans and a white cotton shirt with the sleeves rolled up. His hair was tousled and sexy. She wondered what it would feel like to run her fingers through it.
“Hi,” she said. Brushing past him, his clean male scent traveled along her nerve endings. “This is a beautiful room,” she said as she stopped to take in the large living room. It really was lovely, with a gleaming hardwood floor and the muted yellow walls. A mocha colored leather sofa was placed across from a white brick fireplace, and mounted above the mantle was a large flat panel television.
“Thanks.” Closing the door, he moved to stand next to her. Turning, she lifted her gaze to his. “I was thinking we could run lines in here, or out on the patio.” He nodded toward the screen door that led to his backyard. “Whichever you prefer.”
“It’s a beautiful day,” she said with a smile. “How about the patio?”
Trailing after him, she couldn’t help but admire the snug fit of his jeans. He was powerfully built and moved with the grace of an athlete. She could almost picture him on his surfboard, mastering the waves with ease. Biting her lower lip, she tried not to imagine what else he could master with that body of his, and then almost plowed into him as he stopped by the screen door.
Lifting her hand, she braced it on his back to
steady herself. “Sorry,” she said. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.” Quickly, she withdrew her hand. But not before feeling the warmth of his skin through his shirt.
He opened the screen door and motioned with his hand for her precede him to the patio. “Do you want anything to drink?”
“Got any beer?” she asked.
“You bet. It’s one of the four basic food groups, isn’t it?”
She laughed and turned to look at him. “That and chocolate.”
He lifted one brow and grinned. “I’ve got that too.”
“I may never leave,” she shot back. As their eyes locked, a moment of sizzling awareness sent her pulse into overdrive.
“I’ll be right back,” he said after several charged seconds. He motioned to the table. “Make yourself at home.”
After he disappeared into the house, she moved to the round wooden table with a colorful sun umbrella shading it. She set her purse down and checked out the yard. While it wasn’t as large as Lisa’s backyard, just beyond the patio was a swimming pool with an adjacent hot tub. On the other side of the pool, along the fence, were oleander bushes in colorful bloom. The tall and manicured shrubs gave the yard a sense of privacy from the neighbors.
“What do you think of the yard?” Sean asked. She turned to find him approaching her holding two beers and two frosty beer mugs.
“It’s lovely,” Kayla said, pulling out one of the chairs tucked against the table. “It must be nice to come home from the studio and be able to take a dip in the pool, or sit in the hot tub.”
Sean opened one of the beers and poured it into a mug and then slid it toward her. “When I decided to move here from Santa Monica I told my realtor I had to have a pool,” he said then sat down across from her. “It’s the only way I can stomach not living by the ocean.”
“I’ve heard the traffic is really bad coming in from Santa Monica.”
He opened his beer. “One accident and you might as well forget getting anywhere on time. After two years of dealing with it I decided to move closer to the studio.”
Love in the Afternoon Page 10