LOVESCENES

by Sandra Marton

  The class laughed politely as he threaded his way to the front of the room. Cade shook hands with the actor who had been playing the scene and then straddled the ' stool the man vacated. The actress seated opposite him smiled, only the rose overlay on her pale cheeks hinting at the fact that she was excited at the prospect of doing this scene with Cade Morgan.

  ‘You said you were familiar with Streetcar, didn’t you?’

  Cade cleared his throat and looked up at Eli. ‘Right. Actually, I know it pretty well. I had the Kowalski role in my senior year in high school.’

  Shannon laughed softly. Cade looked up, his eyes narrowing as they searched the small room. She looked down as his glance met hers. Don’t look to me for pity, she thought grimly. Try somebody else.

  When she raised her head, he was staring at his script. She knew what he must be feeling. Even the profession’s established names trembled when they read before Eli..

  ‘Are you ready?’ Cade asked the girl next to him in a soft voice. She nodded and he took a deep breath. ‘Then, let’s do it,’ he said.

  He bent his head while the actress launched into her opening lines, his hands holding the script in a white- knuckled grip. A faint sheen of dampness gleamed under the lock of dark hair that had fallen across his forehead. Shannon sat forward, waiting for his first line, praying that his husky voice would emerge as the squeak of a frightened mouse.

  The girl playing Blanche was good. She’d caught the character’s fragility. Cade was watching her as if she held the key to the mysteries of the universe. The self-assured master of the stage had disappeared. In his place was a man with an ashen cast to his skin and a tremor in his fingers.

  God, he really was frightened. The pages of the script were vibrating in his hands. Despite herself, Shannon felt a faint stirring of compassion. She could still recall how terrified she’d felt the first time she’d sat up at the front of this room, facing all those impersonal faces, wanting desperately to succeed and yet certain she was going to fail.

  It was almost time for Cade’s cue. Shannon saw his chest rise as he took a deep breath; then he forced his eyes from the girl and scanned the room slowly. His glance fell upon the instructor, but Eli’s expression was masked, as it always was. Shannon knew what he was doing; she’d done it herself when a part was particularly rough. He was looking for a friendly face, for someone to connect with before the scene opened before him like an abyss and drew him under.

  Eli won’t help you, she thought. He’s the great stone face.

  As if he’d heard the message, Cade’s gaze moved on, sliding from person to person. At last, he looked at her. For a heartbeat, she thought he was going to ignore her, and then those indigo eyes fastened on hers. There seemed to be a dozen different messages in their depths: fear and hope and some kind of plea, and suddenly something within her thawed.

  Don’t be so frightened, she wanted to say. You could have skipped all this, after all. Crawford’s already given you the part. It takes courage to do what you’re doing, Cade. I have to give you that much.

  His eyes read hers one last time and then he looked at the actress opposite him. His first line was delivered slowly, a bit unsteadily, but his voice gained strength as he spoke Tennessee Williams’ powerful words…

  And then, as if by magic, Cade Morgan was gone and Stanley Kowalski, crude, almost obscenely masculine, was there in his place.

  Yes, Shannon thought, yes, that’s the way. She hitched forward in her seat. She had seen at least a dozen Stanley Kowalskis during the past few years, of them right here in this room. Streetcar was a play everybody liked to do; it had been done to death, and so had this part.

  But Cade’s Stanley was not the stereotype she had seen so many times.

  There was crudeness there, yes, but there was also a cruelty, a deliberate awareness of Blanche’s fragility, a determination to sully something simply because the Stanley Kowalskis of this world have to destroy whatever they can’t understand.

  Cade spoke his final lines, the girl playing Blanche responded, and then there was silence. The instructor walked slowly to the center of the room and cleared his throat.

  ‘Well,’ he said finally, pursing his lips. ‘That was in­teresting. Very interesting.’

  Cade’s smile was tentative. ‘That’s what I usually say when I’ve got to tell somebody auditioning for me that I think they’re lousy,’ he said with a deliberate attempt at lightness.

  The teacher smiled. ‘I’m afraid you’ll find we’re much more direct than that. If a performance is poor, we say so.’

  ‘I guess you can’t turn me into an Olivier, huh?’ Cade asked. Shannon wondered if anyone besides she could hear the anguish under the teasing question.

  ‘No, I don’t think you’ll ever be a threat to Larry,’ the teacher laughed. ‘But I must tell you I think we can turn you into a good actor by the end of the semester.’

  Cade’s pleasure was instant and obvious. ‘All right!’ he said with a grin, getting to his feet and extending his hand to the instructor. Immediately, the other members of the class were on their feet, crowding around him, until finally he was surrounded.

  Only Shannon hung back. She stood in the rear of the room, clutching the doorknob, staring thoughtfully at a Cade Morgan who had somehow escaped from the pigeon-hole in which she’d placed him.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Shannon remembered her lines as Alice in Children’s Theatre. Curiouser and curiouser, Alice had said, and that was the line that sprang to mind now.

  She had expected to laugh at Cade’s lack of ability. Instead, she had been stunned, even moved. She stared at him a moment longer, and then shook her head.

  His unex­pected talent wasn’t the point. The point was that she didn’t like him. The point was that she was going to have to play opposite him. Someone should have told her about the casting change.

  The first thing to do was call Claire. Claire could have warned her. And then she’d call Jerry. He could have told her...

  Her fingers slowed in their frantic search. OK, they could have. But Cade would still have the part. And she’d still have to make the best of things.

  ‘Shannon?’ Cade’s voice carried clearly across the room. ‘Wait, please.’ The babble of voices died away as she turned towards him. ‘Please,’ he repeated, ‘give me five minutes.’

  An hour earlier, she’d have cut him down with a sharp look and a sharper tongue. But the memory of the per­formance she’d just seen lingered. It made her hesitate, and when she turned and looked at him, his eyes held the same searching need that had so transfixed her a short while before. It took an effort of will to tear her eyes from his and shake her head.

  ‘I... I haven’t the time,’ she said quickly.

  ‘Please.’

  ‘I can’t,’ she insisted. ‘I... I’ She looked past him, the color rising to her cheeks' as she caught sight of her classmates watching them with open curiosity, their heads turning from Cade to her and back again as if they were spectators at a tennis match. Make the best of things, she thought wearily, and she let out a sigh.

  ‘All right,’ she said finally, ‘I guess I can spare five minutes. I was going to stop for coffee but we can talk out in the hall instead.’

  Cade smiled as he walked towards her. ‘Are you kidding?’ he asked in a husky murmur meant for her ears alone. ‘We’d have to assign seats to keep the crowd down. Look, I could use a cup of coffee myself. Why don’t we head uptown and I’ll buy you some lunch?’

  Give an inch, take a mile, she thought as they stepped into the hall. ‘No thanks,’ she said. ‘I never have lunch.’

  ‘OK, just coffee, then. You name the place.’

  His body brushed hers lightly at hip and thigh. She felt an electric tingle and it made her want to strike out at him.

  ‘All right,’ she said, ‘there’s a place just around the comer that I stop in sometimes. Of course, it isn’t the kind of place you’re used to, so if you’d rather just go o
n your way...’

  ‘You’d be amazed at the kind of places I’m used to. I’ll bet I know every diner and truck stop from here to California.’ He pulled a pair of dark glasses from his pocket and put them on as they reached the street.

  Shannon glanced at him and raised her eyebrows. ‘Don’t tell me wearing those really keeps people from recognizing you.’

  ‘It helps a little,’ he said, tucking his hands into the slash pockets of his leather jacket and adjusting his long stride to hers. ‘I guess there isn’t much to worry about in this neighborhood. The streets are pretty empty.’

  ‘Yes, this is an industrial area. I should think you’re used to creating a stir, though. You’ve been a celebrity for a long time, haven’t you?’

  He smiled tightly and shook his head. ‘Lord, but I hate that word,’ he said. A truck rumbled past them and slowed. The driver leaned out the window, his brow fur­rowing as he stared at them. ‘Just keep walking,’ Cade murmured, his long legs moving more quickly. ‘New Yorkers are pretty good about things like this. If you don’t make eye contact, most of them leave you alone.’

  ‘I thought celebrities were used to..

  ‘Is that what you want? he asked sharply. ‘To be a celebrity?’

  ‘Me? I want to be the best actress I can,’ she said, looking up at him as if he’d accused her of an immoral act.

  ‘Well, I’ve spent the past fourteen years trying to be the best musician and composer I can,’ he answered, following her into a dingy cafe. ‘If I became a “ce­lebrity” along the way, it wasn’t by design.’

  ‘And now you want to be an actor,’ Shannon said, deliberately ignoring the censure in his tone.

  Cade nodded as they sat down in a small booth. ‘It’s not something recent. I’ve wanted to act for a long time. It’s just that the time seems right.’

  ‘And Jerry Crawford’s willing to accommodate you.’

  ‘Jerry thinks I’ve got a good chance of making it,’ he said carefully. Shannon looked at him, trying to decide if his remark had been a statement or a challenge, but his smiling expression gave nothing away. ‘What’s good to eat here?’ he asked, zipping open his leather jacket. ‘I’m starved—I haven’t had anything but a cup of coffee all day.’

  She thought of her own demanding schedule and managed a polite smile. ‘Neither have I. There just wasn’t time between my exercise class, rehearsal, and the workshop.’ She folded her hands in her lap and looked at him, her grey eyes cool. ‘It must be difficult to work late at night. I suppose there’s a tendency to go out and unwind afterwards and then sleep in the next morning, but then you don’t have to do anything until that evening, do you?.’

  ‘That’s not exactly the way my day goes, Shannon,’ he said carefully. ‘I keep pretty busy.’

  ‘Yes, I forgot about interviews and photo sessions and autographs. That must take a lot of time.’

  Cade put both hands flat on the table and leaned to­wards her. ‘Listen,’ he said quietly, ‘I’ve got a terrific idea. Why don’t you tell me why I rub you the wrong way? Maybe if we get it out in the open, I won’t be afraid you’ll put a knife in my back every time you see me.’

  ‘Having coffee was your idea, Mr. Morgan, not mine.’

  ‘That’s true, Miss Padgett. Indulging in fantasy was yours. I gather you’d love to think I spent the night in an orgy of wine, women, and song, and the day between satin sheets, but the truth is I had a couple of beers with the guys in the band and then took a cab back to my hotel. At least I was lucky last night—it was our last concert for a while....’ He broke off as a waitress counterman loomed over them, menus in her hands. ‘Coffee and a piece of apple pie.’

  ‘Just coffee for me, please,’ Shannon said. She waited until the waitress left. . ‘Look, Mr. Morgan, what you do with your day is your business... ’ She paused while the girl slapped two heavy mugs of coffee and a slab of gelatinous-looking pie on to the table. ‘You can sleep all day or take classes in nuclear physics or transcendental meditation for all I care...’

  ‘I got to bed around two and I was up at six—we had a seven o’clock rehearsal this morning for a new album we’re cutting. We’d still be at it, except we ran out of studio time.’ He forked a small bite of pie into his mouth and chewed steadily.

  ‘I’m sure you work hard,’ she said carefully. ‘But...’

  ‘But I’m still sub-human, hmm? Look, I’m sorry you had to find out I’d taken what’s his name, Tony’s part. Jerry was supposed to tell you or your agent. I know it was a shock. ’

  ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’

  ‘But I do. Hell, we’re going to be working together, Shannon. We should get all this sorted out.’

  ‘There’s nothing to sort out,’ she said, trying to sound more polite than she felt. ‘You wanted the part and you got it.’

  ‘You make it sound as if I got it by royal edict,’ Cade said carefully. ‘It wasn’t my idea—it was Jerry’s. In fact, I told him I had reservations. But he thinks I can handle it. He thinks... ’

  ‘Look,’ she said quickly, leaning towards him, ‘let’s stop playing games. Crawford thinks you’ll be a better drawing-card than Tony. That’s why he signed you. It’s that simple.’

  ‘There’s more to it than that, and you know it,’ Cade said, putting down his fork and shoving the plate aside. ‘And Tony hasn’t been dumped—they wrote him in else­where. Well, doesn’t that please you?’ he asked after a pause. ‘I thought it would. I mean, if you and he are involved...’

  It was impossible not to smile at the thought. ‘Tony and... ? ’

  ‘No, I didn’t think so. If the guy meant something special to you, you’d have got that scene right.’

  Shannon’s eyes narrowed. ‘What, pray tell, does that mean?’ she asked in a softly ominous voice.

  ‘Now who’s playing games? You know what it means. Crawford says you played the scene flat. Hell, if it hadn’t been for that, he wouldn’t have wanted me.’

  ‘Yes, I know,’ she asked sweetly. ‘I was present at your audition, remember?’ Her eyes flashed darkly and her voice dropped to a terse whisper. ‘In fact, you might say I was your audition.’

  ‘Listen, are you still angry at me because I kissed you?’ Cade shook his head. ‘I thought I’d already apologized for that. You were explaining the part—you were so damned condescending—and you wouldn’t admit you had it all wrong...’

  ‘I did not. Besides, what would you know about it? Tony was playing opposite me, not you.’

  ‘I told you, I’d read the script. Crawford gave it to me when he asked me to guest star.’ He shook his head. ‘I’m still trying to figure that out. I was amazed that he wanted me in the first place.’

  ‘Who are you kidding?’ she said before she could stop herself. ‘He wanted you because you’re Cade Morgan. He didn’t care if you were good or bad or indifferent. You know it, I know it—everybody knows it.’

  She’d gone too far. She knew it as soon as the torrent of angry words had stopped. Cade’s eyes had darkened and locked on hers. His mouth was a thin line as he reached for his wallet and got to his feet..

  ‘I don’t have to listen to this,’ he growled. ‘I thought you and I could reach some sort of agreement, but I see that’s impossible. I’ll tell Crawford it’s not going to work out. There’s still time to replace...’

  There it was, Shannon thought, her heart thudding into gear. The bastard was going to have her dumped. It was almost a relief to have it in the open.

  ‘Not so fast,’ she said, fighting to control her voice. ‘I have a contract. My union will support me.’

  He gave a bitter laugh and sat down in the booth. ‘‘Crawford was wrong, that’s all. It was that damned kiss...’

  ‘I’m glad you admitted it. It was so meaningless—but nobody wanted to hear that. You took me by surprise, for starters. I didn’t have time to prepare.’

  ‘You don’t prepare for passion, Padgett. It’s not like going to the dentist, for
God’s sake!’

  ‘We’re not talking about passion,’ she said. ‘We’re talking about acting. I should have had time to get into character. I...’

  Cade’s eyebrows rose. ‘What the hell did getting into character have to do with that kiss? You’re a woman and I’m a man. Don’t you know that?’

  ‘Of course I know that!’ she snapped. ‘That’s just the point. If you knew anything about acting, you’d understand.’

  ‘I understand, Padgett. I kissed you...’

  ‘God, you’re insufferable! Of course you kissed me! That’s what messed everything up in the first place. Don’t you get it? You kissed Shannon Padgett, not the char­acter I play in All Our Tomorrows. And it was Shannon Padgett who responded, not her. That’s why there were sparks, or chemistry, or whatever it was that...’