“No.”
Alarm punched her voice higher. No way to mistake the first pang of panic. She’d paled when she looked at Connor, too. Teirney might not be a kid person.
“I have my grandmother. I mean, she lives with me. She’s not well. So I take care of her.”
His heart clenched. He had adored his grandmother. Well, both of them really. They’d been entirely different from one another. Dad’s mother, Grandma Bess, had worked a farm her whole life. She’d been steady, loud, opinionated, and not afraid to tell anyone what she thought if she believed they needed to hear it. It had been Bess who told Ian he had to stop doing what his parents wanted and pursue his creative dreams. Life was too short, she’d warned him. Her death of a heart attack a week later drummed her lesson home.
Mom’s mother had been gentler. Nanny Grace was a real southern belle. A hugger by nature, she told him he could charm an Eskimo into buying ice with his smile. No one had ever loved him as she had. Her death had been swift and totally senseless—a car accident at dusk.
He’d have given anything to have said goodbye to both of them.
“You’re lucky you’re getting time with her.” He meant it.
Her eyebrows shot up. “I agree.”
Enthusiasm surged through him. “Well, then, let’s go home. See your grandmother.”
Yes, spending time with Teirney’s family seemed a great idea. Visiting with Presley, Mason, and the baby had pushed the lack of steadiness in his life right to the forefront of his mind. Normalcy, people to count on, and a routine he could cling to were all missing. Fame had major perks. But true relationships didn’t fall into the bonus category of being a celebrity. Everyone wanted something from him. Except his family in Texas and, he suspected, Teirney Mitchell. Well, maybe that wasn’t exactly true.
She wanted him to be on time and, maybe to leave her alone.
“I think my Granny is probably sleeping.”
He shrugged. Sounded good. “We’ll be quiet.”
She put her hands on her hips. “Why exactly do you think this is a good idea?”
Ian shook his head. “I don’t know. I just do. It’s been a really long time since anyone questioned me on anything I said I wanted to do. Thanks.”
“I suppose there is no reason you can’t come.” She motioned forward. “Shall we go?”
Wow. They were finally getting somewhere. She’d agreed. His cup runneth over.
“I could call for my car.” He took out his phone.
“How did you get my number earlier?” She pointed at his cell phone.
“Jim from lighting. I figured if you have mine, I should have yours.”
She hadn’t answered his question about the ride. Should he not call? “Car?”
“Subway will be faster. Any second your fans will notice you’re still standing out here. They’ll swarm. Let’s go.” She pivoted and continued along the sidewalk, glancing at him over her shoulder.
“And for the record, I keep your number in a locked safe in the theater. I never call you from my own line. I don’t have you stored on my phone.”
He fell into step with her. “I texted you from my number earlier. Store it.”
“Ah….” She shook her head. “Okay.”
“Great.” He loved when things started to come together. “I haven’t been on the subway before. Only taxis or car services. This will be my first time. Kind of fun actually. I was raised in Austin. We don’t have subways. Then I moved to Los Angeles and spent years in Toronto filming. So, first New York subway.”
She smiled and pride made him stand up taller. He’d made the woman grin; he felt as if he’d won some kind of battle.
“I’m glad to be giving you your first time then.”
Ian laughed. Her dirty innuendo surprised him. “Do you promise to still respect me when it’s over?”
She raised her eyebrows and answered him deadpan serious. “Maybe.”
Ian laughed, her dry humor catching him by surprise. So Teirney was funny, too. Awesome.
They walked in companionable silence. Teirney didn’t speak much. She was always thinking, constantly planning. Her eyes darted around when she got really involved in a train of thought. Her quietness was really kind of hot.
“Where are we headed?” he finally asked when they started to descend into a subway stop. She pulled out a metro card and swiped it through twice. When she indicated, he walked through the turnstile. Countless movies where criminals jumped the device to file onto the subway filled his mind.
He’d never experienced the smell before, and the best he could equate it to was dirty socks in the gym. The heat and the sheer loudness of the train passing by caught him by surprise. Ian made a memory. Some day he might need such a moment. He’d call on it, and the scene he acted would be real because he’d done so.
“Brooklyn Heights.”
She halted near a bench toward the back of the platform, and he stood next to her.
“Brooklyn?” He shouted over the roar of a passing train and then realized he had been a little bit too loud. Ian really didn’t need fan attention right then. He was with Teirney. Fans were a gift, and he almost always had time for them. But in the subway station waiting for the train to Brooklyn, he wanted to be only with Teirney. It had to be possible to have quiet moments, even for him.
Ian pulled his hood over his head. Probably too little too late if someone who wanted to talk to him had seen him. He sighed.
“First time in Brooklyn?” She smiled bigger. “A whole night of new beginnings for you.”
“Hey. Can we find some pizza?”
There wasn’t anything he wanted more than to eat pizza with Teirney.
“I think we can probably acquire some.”
Ian put his arm around her, and she stiffened but didn’t push him away. He’d have to warm her up to him. He couldn’t wait to see the woman she turned out to be when she let her guard down.
As far as first dates went, tonight was a weird experience. In fact, he would bet Teirney didn’t realize dating was exactly what they had started doing the second they walked together toward the subway. He was taking her on a date to her house. Whatever it took. He’d told Presley he needed to make some major changes to find happiness.
Teirney was the first on his list.
****
The cardboard pizza box Ian held warmed his skin as he trailed after Teirney toward her house. He skipped a step to keep up with the tiny dark-haired lady whose vanilla scent he was becoming rapidly addicted to. Was it possible he could end the evening in bed with her? His cock hardened. He hadn’t thought about it when he asked to follow her home.
After a full half an hour together, he wanted her more than he ever had. Fantasy Teirney didn’t hold a candle to the real deal. She looked over her shoulder to smile at him as she unlocked the door.
“Wishing you hadn’t suggested coming along?”
“No, I’m seriously excited.”
Maybe she had old movies. They would sit and eat the pizza she’d ordered from an app on her phone. He needed to know more about these things so he could use them himself. His assistants probably knew which ones worked best.
Another thing Ian needed to change involved handling more of his life without professional help. He followed her inside. A blonde woman who wore her clothes at least one size too tight, probably to go with her heavy makeup, stood when they entered.
“You’re late.”
Teirney nodded. “My apologies. Five minutes over. I’ll add it to your salary for tonight. Any problems?”
The woman snorted. “I’d rather have the time. I told you, I have a life, and for what you’re paying me, I’m not willing to be late to see my guy.”
“Yes.” Teirney pulled cash out of her pocket and handed a wad to the woman. “I respect the fact that you have a life. Were there any problems with Granny?”
“I mean you need me. I think you should be a little more grateful I even s
how up for work.”
Ian had had enough. Teirney needed to hear about her grandmother. He stepped forward and lowered his hood.
“Hi, I’m Ian.”
“Oh.” Her eyes got really wide. “You’re Ian Mackenzie.”
“Last time I checked. Sorry she’s late; my fault.”
He gave her his best charming smile, and she responded, showing him a mouth full of teeth.
“It’s okay. I didn’t know she knew you.”
He smiled, although he didn’t feel it. “Well she does. How’s her grandmother?”
“She slept the whole time.”
He nodded. “Great.”
“I’m Georgia.”
“Hi Georgia.” He really didn’t care.
Teirney’s eyes met his, and she nodded, a silent thank you in her eyes. A million people applauding had never felt as good as the soft glow in her gaze.
Chapter Two
Teirney closed the door on her grandmother’s bedroom, leaving her asleep. For all Georgia’s bluster, she took good care of her Granny when she was here. The IV was in place, the appropriate drugs giving the old woman relief from the pains of her life ending.
The movie star waiting in her living room provided an entirely different problem. What was he doing here? The entire subway ride home she kept waiting for him to yell out “just kidding!” and run off at the next stop. Only he hadn’t and he was here, like something out of her imagination, mere feet from her bedroom. He was eating pizza while watching a black and white movie she’d never heard of on her old television. Yet, Ian, with his feet on her coffee table, seemed right at home.
She sat next to him, and he smiled at her.
“Is she okay?”
“Yes. She’s sleeping.” She took a sip from her water. “Are you enjoying your pizza?”
“Absolutely. Fabulous pizza.” He set his plate on the table. “She’s not going to recover?”
Sighing, she rubbed at her eyes. “No, the cancer will kill her. Soon.”
She hadn’t expected him to put his arm around her, although he’d done it on the walk, so maybe it was simply something he did with a woman, still it took her a full thirty seconds before she could relax enough to rest against touch.
“I’m so sorry. Where is the cancer?”
“Everywhere.”
He squeezed her shoulder, and some of her tension ebbed. She might actually be able to turn her neck without it hurting.
“That sucks.”
“It does.”
She laughed. It felt so strange, she stopped. Her evening was taking one weird twist after another.
Ian turned his head and looked around the room. “Did you grow up here with her? Was your childhood spent inside this brownstone?”
She looked around the living room. The walls were peeling, the wallpaper long since giving in to time. As with so many things, the days of glory for her Granny’s old place had come to an end.
“No, I lived in New Jersey. My parents would go away every summer, for the whole summer, just the two of them. I stayed here with Granny. Some of my fondest memories are here. When she goes, I’ll have to sell it. I’ve already started to box things. Kind of morbid with her alive in the other room.”
“You’re organized. There’s a task in front of you, so you’ve started getting it done.”
His words were right on. She’d love to be able to wait, to look at something which needed to be done and think I’ll handle this whenever. If she put off the unpleasant tasks, avoided them, she’d be completely unable to sleep.
“I guess it’s why I do what I do. I enjoy making life run smoothly, to make things happen on time and when they should.” She took a deep breath and inhaled his sugary scent, the kind of sugar someone who didn’t burn water might use for baking.
“No family to help you? Where are your parents?”
He’d hit on a topic she’d rather not delve into.
“The Cayman Islands.”
“On vacation?” He leaned back against the couch. “I went last year when the show was on hiatus. Beautiful. The hotel had the best rum punch.”
“No. Although I’d love to hear more about the rum punch. I can live vicariously. My parents live in the Caymans. Tax reasons.”
He stiffened, and she turned her head to look him straight in the eyes.
“Your parents are living in the Caymans to avoid American tax laws, and they’ve left you here to take care of your grandmother by yourself?”
She waved her hand toward Granny’s room. “They pay for all of her care. Whatever Medicare doesn’t cover, they do. I am grateful for their help.”
And it wasn’t as if she had to get used to them being gone. They’d been absentee most of her life.
“I get it.” He drummed his hand on his knee. “I’d like to be able to help my family if they needed me. They don’t. If they did, though, I’d need to be there, too.”
“Sounds as if you’re close.” She hadn’t expected to ever know him, or to want to. This Ian, the version who wasn’t late—although he’d made her five minutes tardy—was actually a nice person with whom to spend time He was easy, although his questions were weird. It almost felt akin to a job interview. He watched her so intently, hung on every word. Nothing she said was so interesting it warranted such rapt attention.
“We are.” He took her hand. “Why do you do it? Stage managing I mean?”
His abrupt shift in topics caught her off guard. It took her a second to reorient. It was almost one a.m. He needed to leave soon. If she wasn’t in bed by two, she would be a zombie at six when her grandmother needed her IV bag changed and her linens swapped.
“I’m good at it.”
“Yes, you are, and I’ve had some bad ones. I make all stage managers nuts. I know. You are really excellent at your job. Yet I find myself wondering, these skills you have, couldn’t they be used in any number of jobs? A good manager? Your abilities would be a total gift to many organizations. Why did you pick theater? You don’t watch the show most nights. I know; I’ve looked. Why theater? It can’t be the money.”
“Well.”
She didn’t even try to soften her nasty tone. With his demanding questions, he sounded exactly like her father. Why wasn’t she doing more with her life? Why not go manage something where she could actually earn?
“Woah.” He withdrew the arm from behind her and extended his hands toward her, wrists together as if he was under arrest. “You just expressed more emotion in a single word than I’ve ever heard you do in sentences worth of talking. Don’t tell me. Don’t shoot.”
She’d already begun, and refused to silence herself. “I do my job because I enjoy the way it makes people happy. For a few hours every night, the audience is transported somewhere else. They can leave their lives and go wherever we—and I count myself in the grouping—take them. Just because I can’t act doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate creativity. I do. I relish the whole process of it, from start to finish. While you’re under the lights getting the applause, you’re just a piece of it, not the whole kit and caboodle.”
Ian rubbed his chin. “Never said I was. The stage manager is pivotal to the show. The whole crew plays a role.”
Really, it was too much to deal with when her grandmother was dying in the other room. She stood.
“I think you should leave.”
Having him come home with her was a mistake. She should never have let him into her space. What had she been thinking? Of course, he thought what she did beneath him. Of course, if she didn’t do her job, he’d have no lights to shine on him when he made love to the audience every night.
Once she started, the words poured out of her. Every statement increased in volume.
“For the record, I do watch the show. I have to. So I can give you the cues the crew needs. I know every line. It would terrify me, but I could go on for you if you fell and broke your arm. I heard you tonight when you flubbed your li
ne.”
She clapped a hand over her mouth. He hadn’t earned her rage. Her temper on the topic was for her father, her last boyfriend who had scoffed at her life decisions, and a hundred unfeeling people she had had the bad fortune to encounter over time. Ian hardly knew her. It was past the point for him to leave if for no other reason than so she could find her equilibrium again.
If she woke Granny, she’d never forgive herself.
Ian pulled her into his arms, catching her by surprise, and she almost fell. Instead, in his arms, she stayed stiff as board. What the hell was he doing?
“It’s okay, sweet baby. I’ve got you.”
“What?”
She spoke into his chest. He was so much taller than she was, she felt downright tiny so close to him.
“You’ve had a rough time, haven’t you?”
His kind words undid her. Tears threatened to spill, and she beat them into submission. Teirney was not a crier. Still, the hug defused her temper. When she pulled away, he released her.
“Sorry about the yelling. You should still go.”
“Teirney.” He cupped her cheeks in his hands. “I did not mean to be disparaging at all. I ask a lot of questions. Tell me to mind my god damned business when I step over the line. I like to know about others’ lives. Someday there might come a time when I’ll have a similar moment in a show, when I’ll be given the privilege of bringing to life, for a few hours, the lines of a playwright or a screenwriter, and I’ll need to make it real. For the reason you said. So people can be there with me for a while.”
“I know. I mean your reviews were great. Clearly, you’re very good at it. Don’t listen to me….”
He interrupted her. “Honey. I wasn’t done. Don’t step on my line.”
“Oh, sorry.”
He kissed the top of her head. “I’m really glad to hear you enjoy your job. I didn’t think you did. I misread you. You women are confusing creatures. My sister taught me early on sometimes a girl really wants a hug when she’s not making any sense.”
Wow, he was warm, and his actions left her ready to dissolve into a puddle on the floor near his feet. “I….”
Under the Lights Page 2