Sarah whispers something to Hallie and she nods and gives her a quick hug before gathering her stuff and crossing the room to me.
I wrap my arm around Hallie’s waist and we head for the exit.
“They hated me,” I say with a sigh once we’ve hit the street.
“Impossible.”
“Possible.” I touch the tip of her nose, which makes her smile.
“I don’t believe that they hated you. Tell me about it. What went wrong?”
“I have a better idea. How do you feel about ice skating?”
Chapter 15
HALLIE
An hour after leaving the audition, we’re ice skating in Central Park, despite my claims that Chris was going to have to pick me up off the ice no fewer than a hundred times.
It’s not quite at the century mark after fifteen minutes of skating, but I’ve already fallen four times and I’m definitely going to be paying the next day with some serious bruises. Given the years I spent in dance class, you’d think I would have a better idea of how to do this.
I careen into the barrier and he’s laughing at me.
“I can just imagine you with a hockey stick.” He’s taunting me, turning gracefully around on his skates and remaining just out of my reach.
I manage to catch up to him, and as I feel myself slipping, I drag him down to the ice with me. He’s kissing me and we must look ridiculous, but I can’t seem to force myself to care. I finally manage to get back on my feet after I notice that many of the perfectly coordinated people who are actually able to stay on their skates are giving us dirty looks.
“Ice skating is clearly not my forte.” I shrug at him and laugh.
“So, we may need to add ice skating to the list.”
“I told you. You should invest in a paper company or something if you’re going to write down all of my flaws.”
I almost fall again when a girl executes a perfect double axel directly in front of us and a cloud of ice shoots into my face. Chris manages to keep me on my feet by grabbing both of my arms and wrapping me up in his.
“Get a room!” someone shouts as they whip past us.
“That’s totally the sign that we need to get off this ice before the police arrest us for being a public nuisance.”
Even ice princess is staring now.
“Nope. I’m a good teacher. Hands off, I promise.” He skates backwards, curving his skates in and out. He holds out his hands to me.
“Show off! Well, I’m glad we didn’t start a list of things that you’re not good at, because it would have been very short indeed.” He sticks his tongue out and I take his hands cautiously. “At least I can set the world record for falling on the ice. That’s something that I’m good at.”
Half an hour later, I’ve finally got the hang of it and I haven’t fallen again. It’s a minor accomplishment, but it still feels pretty good.
“See? Double axels in no time. Told you.”
“Someone happens to be a good teacher.”
“Or I just had a very good student.” His phone is buzzing, but he ignores it.
“That could be Marcus!”
He shakes his head. “I really don’t want to talk to him right now.”
“What did they say in the audition?” I know I’m prodding him for details, trying to figure out why he thought that he screwed up any chance to play James Ross, but I want to know anyways. He is James Ross. No one else could possibly play that role, and his assessment of the audition doesn’t quite jive with Sarah’s whispered words—“They said to get his agent on the line. Don’t say anything yet, but that’s always a good sign.”
“They didn’t say anything.” He’s frustrated and I want to blurt out what Sarah said to me, but she made me promise that I wouldn’t. I don’t want to get his hopes up when they might be crushed.
“It can’t have been as bad as that. You should have put on the Boudreaux accent.”
He puts it on. “Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a shit if they liked me or not. I have bigger plans for the day.” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively at me. Ok, so we wouldn’t talk about the audition anymore. He lets out a low groan. “We have to get out of here.” He grabs my hand and skates effortlessly to the exit of the rink, dragging me behind him. When we’re safely off the ice and in no danger of causing a major traffic jam, he laces our fingers together and kisses me hungrily.
That I could definitely do all day.
We spend the rest of the afternoon in Chris’s New York, taking the subway first downtown and then uptown. We’re sitting on the stoop of a beautiful old brownstone on the Upper East Side, watching the kids in uniforms and people walking their dogs and I start to imagine a life in the real New York, which is becoming more like the fantasy city in the movies I’ve been watching for years and less like the impenetrable world that I glimpsed at Sophia’s party. I turn to look at Chris, and his face is pensive.
“I don’t even know if I’m happy or not that I blew the audition,” he admits, looking at me.
I’m cautious. “Why?”
He takes a breath. “I love acting. I never expected to, but I do. Still, though, there’s something about pretending to be someone else that makes you less and less sure of who you really are.”
“I don’t know if it’s possible to ever be who you really are. It seems to me that the characters you play are just as much a part of you as anything else.”
“That’s a cryptic statement if I ever heard one.”
He’s right; it is. I try to explain. “I’ve thought about it a lot, though, who people really are. I’m not sure if people can ever be exactly themselves.” While my words don’t make a lot of sense, he looks at me like every word is precious and important and I just want him to keep looking at me like that forever. “Maybe we’re just trying to cobble together pieces of ourselves from scattered moments. Maybe we’re always trying to be ourselves for someone else.”
He’s still looking puzzled and I shake my head in impatience. I shouldn’t have ever started talking in the first place. Normally, I try to ration my words in conversations, because I know that I talk too much. I usually have to mutter my little mantra, Talk less and listen more, but he’s staring at me with enormous emerald eyes and so I keep going. Just dig a bigger hole of craziness, Hallie. That’s a brilliant plan.
I need an example. I point at a man walking hand-in-hand with a little girl. He pulls something from out of her pocket, and she laughs in delight. They’re obviously related; both had a red riot of curls and their faces hold matched expressions of joy.
“He knows who he is in that moment, and it’s not a stockbroker or a teacher or a dentist. He’s her father. He’s defining himself in relation to her. And she’s not a ballerina or a violinist right now, she’s his daughter. So maybe we’re always defining ourselves in terms of what we are to other people.”
He lets out a whoosh of air but continues to stare intently at me.
I can never seem to say exactly what I mean. Maybe it’s because language isn’t exact, either. “I don’t think anyone’s ever sure of who they really are. It changes every daily, because of the people you meet and the things you say and the experiences you have. You’re an actor, so playing other people adds another layer to the person that you are and want to be. James Ross or not, it’s what you should be doing. I’ve seen you, remember? You’re magic.”
He brushes a piece of hair from my face and smiles at me. “I think you’re pretty magical,” he says quietly, glancing at me from the corner of his eye.
His gaze is intense, and unable to say anything in response, I avert my eyes and twist the bracelet my father gave me right before he died around my arm again and again. “Even when you’re rambling,” he adds after a minute, which makes me lift my face to his.
“I knew you liked the rambling,” I say, trying to make my voice light. This is too much, too fast for me. “It was definitely the rambling about the secret cat painter that got you to attack me.”
/> “No,” he says, taking my chin and turning my face to his. He keeps his own voice light. “Definitely the candy blob rambling. No doubt.”
When he touches his lips to mine, I think that maybe days of perfection aren’t so rare after all.
Until my phone rings.
“You shouldn’t get that,” he mutters.
“I really should. The people who live here are probably going to be mad if they come home to find a couple of people loitering on their steps, so we’d better get a move on anyway. It’s probably my mom, checking to make sure that I haven’t been killed by one of the millions of New York muggers.”
He hisses in frustration. I grab my phone and pull it to my ear.
“Hello?”
“Hallie, where are you? We are too young and beautiful and fabulous to let the city wait for another minute. I’ve been here for like three hours already and you aren’t here.”
Sophia’s probably been waiting for a grand total of thirty seconds. I scramble to think of something to say.
“Sophia…” I look up at Chris, and he’s rolling his eyes. “I’m um, close to your apartment.”
“Well, get your ass back here. Sam’s having a party tonight, and it’s going to take at least a couple of hours to get dressed. We also need to pregame.”
“Just a second.” Chris is shrugging. I haven’t thought about Sophia once since my worries about her fascination with him the night before. A sliver of jealousy slices in my gut. Party, I mouth at him.
“I guess,” he whispers it, but Sophia catches the noise of his voice and hisses at me.
“Who was that?”
“It’s your…Chris.” I start to say your friend Chris, but I don’t want him to belong to her anymore.
“Didn’t you see him yesterday?”
And last night and this morning and this afternoon.
“We’re just hanging out. He’s made an excellent tour guide.”
Chris is leaning into me as I say the last words. I smile at him and hold out my hand to keep him an arm’s length away. “I’ll head back soon and we can go to the party.”
Her voice is suspicious. “Hanging out?”
Chris is making faces at me, and I turn my head to keep from laughing. “Yep. See you in a few minutes.” I hand up the phone and turn to him. “Sophia requests my presence.”
“Same old Sophia. And it’s a command performance, not a request,” he says. “There’s no way you were getting out of going to that party, so to Sam’s we shall go.”
The word “we” sends a little shiver up my spine. He’s tweaking my nose. “It won’t be all bad. Sam has a pretty fabulous view from his roof. There are lots of empty corners.”
He winks suggestively at me and yanks me back to him. “Now, where were we?”
After another round of kisses that stretch a few minutes into almost half an hour, I’ve pretty much forgotten my own name, let alone the fact that Sophia Pearce is probably going to kill me. Patience is not one of her virtues.
“She’s going to kill me.” The words slip out when I’m eventually able to break away from him.
“That’s probably an understatement. But I think it was worth it. Come on,” he says, pulling me to my feet. I’ve also apparently abandoned my sense of propriety, because we’re still sitting on the steps of the brownstone. “Time to face the music.”
We’re walking in the direction of Sophia’s apartment and the awning over the entryway is in sight when I realize that I have no idea what he meant. “Face the music?”
“You don’t think I’m letting you explain to Sophia Pearce while you’re still hanging out with me a day later, do you?” He shudders.
“In addition to everything else she is…” He murmurs something else under his breath that I’m pretty sure isn’t a compliment.
“She’s the worst gossip I’ve ever met. And my newly established movie star status, no matter how fleeting, has caught her interest. She can’t handle the thought of anyone else having something that she even thinks she could possibly want. Sending you in there alone is the equivalent of throwing you to the wolves.”
“To the wolves?” He’s painted a pretty accurate picture, I think, surprised. I had always assumed that every guy on the planet was lost to her charms and blind to everything else she is, but he’s laid her out in an unflattering light.
He sighs. “I really didn’t want to have this conversation right now, but I think it’s unavoidable.”
A million thoughts, none of them particularly pleasant, race through my head before he looks deeply into my eyes and smiles.
“For all of the people in it, New York is a pretty small place. Sophia and I had a brief and ill-fated fling years and years ago when we were in high school. The reason I went to her party was to see her.”
Of course. I was hoping that by some miracle, they had never hooked up. It would have been too much to hope for. I’ve already been preparing myself for the almost inevitable fact that they had. But I am really wondering why he feels like it’s necessary to tell me all of this.
“Ok,” I say, because he’s checking for something in my own face.
Seemingly relieved, he moves on. “I had a massive crush on her.”
I’m insanely jealous, but still unsurprised. “And…”
“And you managed to knock that completely out of my head the second that I saw those flip flops peeking out from under the booth at the diner.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I came to take Sophia’s mysterious friend around New York because I was hoping it would be you.”
My jaw is on the floor. “I really don’t understand.”
“You captivated me. You swept every thought of Sophia Pearce away. That’s something that I’ve been trying for a long time to do. I was always going to see you again, one way or the other. I just hoped I wasn’t going to have to hunt you down.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Well, I’m telling you that my plan was to stalk you. But it seems like everything worked out ok, some minor stalking aside.”
I’m staring at him in disbelief.
He’s laughing now. “You’re always doing that.”
“What?”
“Selling yourself short. Forgetting how incredibly beautiful you are.”
I really don’t know what he’s talking about. “You are so ridiculous. I don’t need to hear all of this. I really don’t. Sophia…”
“I don’t give a shit about Sophia. I’m telling you all of this because you need to know, because she’s your friend and I’ve seen the way she treats her friends. We will go to Sam’s party because you’re staying with Sophia Pearce and she is the most stubborn creature on the face of the planet. If we don’t go, she will cry and beg and plead and make your life a living hell. Especially given the fact that she was already dreaming about which dress she would wear to which of my movie premieres, and that’s completely out of the realm of possibility right now. I’m telling you all of this because I don’t want you wondering about her and me. Ok?”
He moves my head up and down with his hands because I’m stunned into silence, which is becoming a regular occurrence. Apparently. “I also want to go to Sam’s party with you because the view is incredible and after we spend five minutes making small talk, we can escape. Say ok.”
Partly because he is completely in command at this exact moment, and partly because I’m still stunned at the total honesty he’s just displayed, I nod my head. “Ok.”
“We are going upstairs now, and yes, I am coming with you.”
“Ok.”
“I also need your phone number, since that’s one thing I’ve neglected to get from you. Among other things.”
He leans down and kisses me again and nods in satisfaction. “The plan was not to let you out of my sight, but since events have made that impossible for the moment, I need your number. Now.”
“You’re totally asking for my phone number,” I squeal, poking
him in the stomach.
“I am most definitely asking you for your phone number,” he replies, grabbing my phone and punching numbers in. “Ok. Now you can send me naked pictures of yourself. Really dirty ones.”
“Hate to disappoint you, but I’m really just not that kind of girl.”
“Now, that’s a shame.”
We fall silent in the lobby and on the elevator. Before we enter the apartment, which I’m still dreading, he turns to me and smiles, which bolsters my spirits. “You. Me. Deserted rooftop. A view of the city.”
“That sounds pretty nice.”
“Yes, it does sound pretty damn nice.”
I use the key to open the door. Chris’s arm is wrapped possessively around my waist and I try to shake myself free, but he just wraps it more tightly around me.
“Hallie!” Before we can even get in the door, Sophia’s voice echoes through the apartment. “I cannot wait to tell you about what I just heard. You are totally going to die!” She’s running into the room when she stops dead in her tracks. “Christopher.”
“Sophia. It’s good to see you.”
His arm doesn’t move from my waist as he gives her a measured look. I can see her brain trying to figure it out as she takes both of us in. She gives me a puzzled glance and I shrug in response.
“Release my friend, Christopher,” she says, giggling. “We need to get dressed for Sam’s and I’ve been waiting all day for her. You were supposed to be my hired tour guide, not a total friend thief.” Despite the giggles, her eyes are flashing dangerously.
“Just had to make sure I delivered her safely back into your care. It’s temporary, though. I’ll reclaim her at Sam’s. I think I’ll be applying for more of a permanent tour guide position,” he adds, squeezing me and staring at her.
There’s a battle going on. The tension between the two of them is palpable, and I’m wondering whether Chris’s earlier honestly was a masquerade, whether the history between the two of them ran deeper than I feared.
Falling into You Page 13