LOVESCENES

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LOVESCENES Page 7

by Sandra Marton


  Her eyes widened with shock, and the angry words caught in her throat. No, she thought, no—please, tell me I didn’t say that—but a quick look at Cade’s face told her she had, indeed, said that she hadn’t even let herself acknowledge until this second. He looked like a cat who’d been served a dish of bird pudding.

  ‘So,’ he said softly, ‘Crawford was right.’

  ‘No, no he wasn’t. I didn’t mean it the way it sounded.’

  His eyes darkened and a crooked smile tugged at his mouth. ‘It’s too late, Padgett. I heard every word. Something happened when I kissed you.’

  Shannon shook her head. ‘That’s not true,’ she in­sisted. Her throat was dry and she could hear her heart pounding in a crazy rhythm. All she wanted to do was look away from him, but his eyes were suddenly deep pools drawing her under.

  ‘Don’t lie to me,’ he said softly.

  She swallowed drily. ‘Look, you just said you were going to have Crawford replace me.. Maybe it’s for the best. Maybe I won’t even fight it...’

  Cade looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. ‘I never said that. What I said was it wasn’t too late for him to replace me. I’ll do the guest walk-on I originally signed for, and you and Tony or whoever can...’ An expression of such surprise and relief spread across her face that Cade stared at her in amazement. ‘Jesus, did you really think I’d try to muscle you out?’

  . ‘Yes,’ she said softly. ‘It happens all the time. Just last week, Rima Dalton took away my best scene. She had them rewrite it for her. And once in summer stock at Provincetown...’

  Cade leaned across the table and touched her hand. ‘You really weren’t thinking very clearly, Padgett. Crawford wouldn’t ditch you. Don’t forget, he only de­cided to change my part after he saw us together.’ She raised her head sharply and he smiled. ‘That’s just a statement of fact. I’ve already said I was sorry. And I really didn’t mean to embarrass you—it was just that you made me angry as hell.’

  ‘Of course you wanted to embarrass me,’ she said. ‘You wanted to get even.’

  ‘No, I...’ Cade sighed and then he nodded agreement. ‘OK, maybe. But only after you’d made me feel even more unsure of myself than I already felt.’

  ‘Come on. You, insecure? I saw you perform in front of a zillion people. You had them eating out of the palm of your hand.’

  ‘I break out in a nervous sweat before every perform­ance,’ Cade said, flashing her a quick, almost embar­rassed smile. ‘Besides, all I could think of that day on the Tomorrows set was that I was surrounded by real actors, not amateurs like me.’ That same vulnerable look that seemed to reach directly into her soul was back in his indigo eyes. ‘I don’t know why I let Jerry talk me into thinking I could act. He insisted it would be OK, that you and I would be—that we’d make a good team. But I’m no actor. I’m just a musician.’

  Shannon took a deep breath. ‘You did a good job with that reading in the workshop,’ she said quietly.

  His eyes lit with pleasure. ‘Yeah, that seemed to go pretty well, didn’t it? But a fast reading in class isn’t the same as doing a four-month stint in front of a TV camera.’

  ‘Four months?’ she said slowly. ‘But they told me I would be killed off in another couple of weeks.’

  ‘Didn’t Jerry tell you a damned thing? They rewrote the script and they figure they ought to get at least four months out of us.’ He glanced at her and then looked down at the table. ‘Of course, that was only because we were going to be playing opposite each other.’

  ‘Four months,’ Shannon repeated in a soft, wistful voice. ‘I never had an acting job that lasted that long.’

  Cade cleared his throat. ‘Well, of course, that won’t happen now, will it?’ He smiled apologetically. ‘I mean, I’m going to tell Jerry that I’m not taking the part.’

  ‘Yes, but...’

  ‘Besides, even if I were—even if you and I got along— you wouldn’t want to see your part enlarged just be­cause I’m a “star”.’ Laughter glistened in his dark eyes but his expression was grave. ‘You wouldn’t want to take advantage of something like that, would you, Padgett?

  Shannon tried not to smile.’ She put her elbows on the table and propped her chin in her hands. ‘I could learn to live with it, I guess,’ she said softly.

  ‘And me? Could you live with me that long?’ He grinned and leaned back in the booth. ‘That’s just a figure of speech, of course. What I meant was, could you play opposite me that long without feeling you’d compromised all your principles?’

  A flush rose to her cheeks. ‘Don’t make me sound so.. .so pompous, Mr. Morgan. I admit, I resented you at first...’

  ‘At first,’ he said, nodding.

  ‘I suppose it’s fair to admit that what you do onstage is a kind of acting. I mean, you’re not yourself up there, are you?’

  He laughed and shook his head. ‘No, not by a long shot. The real me is always sitting out in the audience somewhere, wondering what the hell the other me is doing onstage.’ He lifted his mug to his lips and sipped at the cold coffee. ‘It’ll be even worse if I take the Tomorrows role. Crawford wanted us to start re­hearsals Monday and tape later in the week. I have this nightmare that ends with him telling me to get off the set and make room for a real actor.’

  Shannon looked at him and smiled. ‘Don’t push your luck,’ she said in a soft voice. ‘I already told you that workshop scene was pretty good. One compliment a day is about the best I ever manage.’

  ‘Then you’re over your allotment,’ Cade said with a wicked grin. ‘I seem to remember you said something complimentary about my kiss.’ Her cheeks turned a pale pink and he touched her hand gently. ‘Sorry about that. . I just couldn’t resist. Anyway, you’re right, I was fishing for another compliment. I was scared to death when Eli asked me to read.’

  ‘Were you, now?’ she asked softly, remembering the look of terror in his eyes. ‘But you were a convincing Stanley, anyway.’

  ‘Well, thanks for that. But I know Streetcar. All Our Tomorrows is another thing. I keep looking through that scene where we meet... ’

  ‘Well,’ she said lightly, ‘I’m glad Jerry’s given one of us a script.’

  ‘I really thought he’d told you,’ Cade said. ‘He promised he would.’

  ‘Is it the cocktail party scene? That was the one Tony and I had been rehearsing.’

  ‘That’s the one. I told Jerry it didn’t make sense to me. And he said...he said I should remember what happened the day we met.’ He stared at her for a long moment and then he cleared his throat. ‘Look,’ he said gruffly, ‘if the director thinks we can do it—I mean, what the hell, Padgett, what have we got to lose? I can always go back to travelling from gig to gig, never knowing what town I’m in... ’

  ‘The glamorous life of a musician, hmm?’

  ‘Yeah, exactly. When this came along, my agent said I’d be a fool not to give it a shot. I’ve wanted to try my hand at acting—there just never seemed the time for it. You’ve got to keep cranking out the music and the records if you want to stay on top.’

  ‘And now?’

  Cade shrugged. ‘And now, I figure I’ve been around long enough to take the chance.’ He looked at her and grinned. ‘If I make a fool of myself, I’ll survive.’

  Shannon took a deep breath. ‘Would you really give up the part because of me?’

  ‘Hey, don’t make me sound like a martyr. If I do the guest shot instead of this part, I can go back to sleeping nights. No more cold sweats, no more bad dreams.’

  ‘Eli says there’s no growth without pain,’ she said brightly. ‘Cold sweats and bad dreams will make you a better actor, Mr. Morgan.’

  ‘Are you suggesting I need improving, Padgett?’

  Shannon buttoned her jacket and slid towards the edge of the booth. ‘What I’m suggesting is that it’s going to be hard to play a love scene with a man who calls me Padgett,’ she said, not looking at him as she got to her feet. ‘The only person who ever cal
led me that was my phys ed teacher in tenth grade.’

  A grin creased Cade’s face. ‘OK, then. Miss Padgett.’ He scrambled to his feet and tossed some bills on the table. ‘How’s that sound?’

  She smiled. ‘Check and mate,’ she said, and then she raised her eyes to his. ‘My name is Shannon,’ she said, holding her hand out to him.

  He took her hand in his and shook it with great for­mality. ‘It’s nice to meet you, Shannon. I’m Cade.’

  ‘How do you do, Cade? Thank you for the coffee.’

  ‘You’re very welcome.’ He smiled into her eyes and her heart thudded crazily again.

  ‘Well ’ she began.

  ‘Yes,’ he said, and then he suddenly reached out and his fingers closed over the top button on her jacket. ‘You’ve closed it wrong,’ he said. ‘Let me fix it.’

  She drew back as his hand brushed her cheek. The sensation of being touched by flame was so powerful that she flinched. ‘I’ll do it,’ she stammered. Her fingers trembled on the buttons but she managed what she hoped was a bright smile. ‘Well, I’ll see you at work Monday. . I’ve a dance class in half an hour and I’ll just about make it if I grab a cab.’

  ‘Let me give you a lift.’

  ‘I wouldn’t dream of taking you out of your way,’ she said as they went out the door. She signaled a passing taxi. It was empty, but the driver ignored her in time-honored New York tradition. Shannon looked down the one-way street; except for a truck rattling to­wards them, it was empty.

  Cade touched her arm lightly. ‘Where is your class?’

  ‘All the way downtown near Canal Street.’

  ‘Well, then you’ve got to accept my offer. I’m going to pick up my guitarist. He lives right near there.’

  ‘No, I...’

  ‘Shannon, really, it’s on my way. Jack lives in SoHo.’ He took her elbow. ‘You’re going to miss your class otherwise.’

  ‘I...I...’ Shannon took a deep breath. What was the matter with her, anyway? They were going to be working together in just a few days, playing the most intimate scene she’d ever played in her life, and here she was, uncomfortable at the thought of being in a car with him! ‘You’re right. Yes, thank you, Cade, I’d appreciate a lift. Is your car nearby?’

  He grinned. ‘Yeah, it’s in a garage right around the corner.’

  ‘I think I’d better warn you that you’re going to get hung up in some terrible traffic.’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ he said solemnly. ‘Why don’t you wait here for me? I’ll only be a minute.’

  She nodded and tucked her hands into her pockets, shivering in a sudden chill breeze. She watched him as he walked away from her, his long stride rapidly changing into a trot as he reached the corner. A woman walking by paused and stared after him, then shrugged and hurried on. Had she recognized Cade, Shannon wondered, or had she simply stopped to admire his looks? There was no point in denying that he was terrific-looking—his broad shoulders, that narrow waist, and, of course, those blue eyes set in that rugged face...

  And he knew he was handsome. That had to be why he wore the tight jeans, the macho motorcycle jacket and boots...

  What kind of car would he drive? she wondered. A Jag, maybe, or. a ’Vette.., Or maybe a Lamborghini. Maybe nothing so sporty. He might show up in a chauffeured limousine. She’d seen that time after time in the mid-town streets; men whose faces she knew from movies and magazines and television uncurling themselves from the backs of Lincolns and Caddies, not bothered by the fact that they were dressed as if they should be riding by on Harley-Davidson motorcycles in­stead of being driven around in luxury. But style and image counted. Actors and agents and publicists all knew that.

  There was a deep, thrumming roar behind her. She turned quickly and her mouth dropped open.

  ‘Cade?’ she said, staring at him in amazement.

  He grinned at her from the back of the largest, blackest motorcycle she’d ever seen.

  ‘How about a lift, lady?’

  ‘Is that thing yours?’ she asked stupidly.

  His grin broadened. ‘It sure is. Here, put this on,’ he said, handing her a black helmet, a duplicate of the one he was wearing. She stared at it blankly and he touched her hand. ‘You’d better tuck all that hair up under it. And put the visor down, too. Like this.’

  She watched as he slid the smoke-colored plastic down over his eyes. ‘I... I’ve never ridden one of these,’ she said finally.

  ‘Then it’s about time you did,’ he said. ‘OK, why don’t you put your shoulder-bag into that carrier?’

  She looked from him to the compartment on the back of the bike. ‘No, it’s OK, I’ll hold it.’

  He laughed. ‘You’ll be too busy holding me.’

  ‘No, I won’t, I...’ She broke off in confusion. Of course she would, she thought, staring at the menacing- looking machine. How else would she keep from falling off? ‘Look, maybe this isn’t such a good idea...’

  ‘You don’t have to worry,’ he said, and she could hear the laughter in his voice. ‘I said you’d be holding me, not the other way around. Come on, Shannon. Hop on.’

  She hesitated briefly and then she took his out­stretched hand and straddled the leather seat behind him. God, she thought, where did everything go? Her hands and her arms and her legs...

  ‘OK? Hang on, now.’ He revved the engine and the bike began to move. She put her hands on his waist and kept her back straight so that their bodies were separ­ated by inches, but then the bike began to pick up speed.

  ‘Cade,’ she said, but how could he possibly hear her? He was wearing that helmet and the engine’s roar drowned out her voice, anyway. And they were moving more and more quickly, heading towards Ninth Avenue and traffic and... ‘Cade,’ she said again. The bike heeled gracefully as they rounded the corner. ‘Oh, lord,’ she whispered, and she wrapped her arms tightly around him and closed her eyes. She felt her breasts flatten as they pressed against his back, felt the brush of his thighs against hers as she hung on to him for dear life. His body was hard and alive under her touch; she thought she could almost feel the heat of him through the leather jacket he wore.

  Wild laughter bubbled in her throat and she fought it back. And I was worried about being in something as confining as a car with this man, she thought.

  Then they were flying towards lower Manhattan and she gave herself up to the excitement of the ride and the feel of Cade Morgan in her arms.

  CHAPTER SIX

  The unseasonable, early evening chill seeped through the walls of Shannon’s apartment, crept through the ill- fitting doors and windows, and seemed to linger like the ghosts of years past in the high-ceilinged rooms.

  Still, the apartment had an old-fashioned charm and grace which soothed the spirit. The bathroom, the hand­somest room of all, had Italian marble fixtures, hand- carved moldings, and a huge, claw-footed tub. It was a tub in which you could lie back and let tension drain from your mind and body.

  The only thing wrong with that idea this evening, Shannon thought, shivering as a draft played over her wet shoulders, was that she had forgotten how chilly the room was once the cool nights set in.

  She stepped out of the tub and wrapped herself in a terry-cloth bath-sheet. The long soak had eased some of the weariness from her bones. A glass of sherry would take care of the rest.

  She tossed the towel aside and slipped into an old flannel robe.

  What an exhausting few days it had been, she thought, stuffing her feet into a pair of scruffy Mickey Mouse slippers she’d owned since her senior year at college. A week of rehearsing her new part had all but wiped her out—and she had yet to play her first scene with Cade.

  She padded through the dark hallway and switched on the kitchen light. Should she scramble some eggs for dinner? That didn’t sound very intriguing. Well, she could always heat up the leftover Chinese—what was that stuff?—ah yes, Moo Goo Gai Pan. But there were no eggs in the refrigerator and the Moo Goo Gai Pan had turned into a bright gree
n science experiment in bacterial growth.

  Shannon made a face and tossed the container into the bin.

  No problem. The market had promised to deliver her groceries sometime this evening. She’d have a glass of red wine—half a jelly glass, actually,--and by then, her order would have arrived and she could pop a TV dinner into the oven. She’d bought chicken and salisbury steak—or something. It didn’t much matter, when you came down to it. All that frozen stuff tasted the same.

  Then she’d brew a strong pot of coffee and get down to basics, which meant curling up with tomorrow’s script and going through it until she had every word and every stage direction com­mitted to memory. She and Cade had started to run through their first scene, and she’d made a mess of it. She’d blown her first lines so many times that he’d never even got to his.

 

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