Ethan’s eyes lightened. “Then I told him he better tell you—or I would.”
A mental image flashed of Ethan standing over the man who’d proposed to her, eyes blazing with anger. “You said that?”
“I managed to get that in before the bouncers threw me out.”
If the paparazzi had been there… Cara’s heart tightened. The gossip rags would have a field day if they’d managed to snatch a photo. Ethan’s every move was tracked by voracious newshounds. Every woman who appeared on his arm was automatically photographed, researched and discussed as a potential love interest.
She squeezed her hands together in her lap.
The press was covering the premiere and the dinner afterwards. She’d be the focus of attention as his date. Her mouth dried as she weighed the potential fallout.
“We’re here.” Ethan drained his glass.
“Don’t say anything to anyone about Michael,” Cara managed as the car slid to a halt outside Donabridge’s one screen cinema.
“Not a word.” Ethan squeezed her hand.
The chauffeur swung the door open.
The air filled with the sound of excited cheering. Earsplitting screams, and frantic clapping broke out when the crowd saw Ethan’s face. The moment he stepped onto the red carpet and raised his arms up, the crowd behind the barriers went wild.
Cara’s heart thudded as she stepped from the limo behind him. A lightning storm of flashes and the sound of a million camera clicks filled the air. Wow. She’d known he was popular, but somehow…
Cara glanced over. Somehow popular didn’t cover half of it. Ethan was a superstar, if the over-excited followers were anything to go by.
A tall brunette dressed in a sensible pantsuit grabbed his arm, and shot Cara a ‘who are you?’ glance.
“Maggie, this is my date, Cara,” Ethan said. “Cara, this is Maggie, my assistant.”
Maggie’s mouth stretched into a tight smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Good to meet you.” She closed the door of the limo. “Let’s get the two of you down that carpet.”
It seemed every foot of the way Ethan slowed to respond to a shouted question. He signed autographs, shook hands with people he’d known in his childhood. And stopped to pause for photographs before the bank of assembled paparazzi.
Cara felt the prick of tears in her eyes. His mother, were she still alive, would have been so proud to see he’d finally achieved his dream. She’d taken two jobs to pay for him to attend stage school in Dublin, had been adamant that he should have every opportunity. And it had paid off. Big time.
Ethan turned and extended his hand.
The moment their hands met, brightness flickered in rapid camera flashes. He slung an arm around her waist. “You’re doing great,” he whispered in her ear.
She’d been stuck in a Winnie the Pooh costume, been betrayed by her boyfriend, and ended up on the red carpet with a Hollywood star. What a day.
Chapter Four
A moment before they reached the cinema’s interior, Cara spotted both her parents, and her buoyant mood burst. She stopped dead.
Ethan turned. “Problem?”
“My parents are here. I need to talk to them.”
Ethan nodded. “Okay, let’s get them inside, you can talk before they let everyone else in.”
With a quick word to the gardai manning the barriers, Cara’s parents, Ellie and Bill, slipped through.
After greeting Ethan, Ellie Byrne turned to her only daughter. “What’s going on?” she questioned in a quiet voice. “Why aren’t you here with Michael?”
Cara’s heart sank into her boots. The dream of having a night of denial before facing the cold truth had well and truly evaporated. Ethan was deep in conversation with her father, but his assistant hovered—obviously keen to shepherd him towards the line of waiting politicians.
“Dad.” Her call caught her father’s attention. “Can I talk to you for a second?” She steered them to a quiet corner. “I have to talk to you both about Michael.”
Bill Byrne frowned.
Ellie Byrne’s mouth turned down at the corners. She looked as though she’d swallowed a wasp. “What have you done?” her forehead pleated. “I hope you haven’t thrown him over for…” she glanced Ethan’s direction.
Cara opened her mouth to refute her mother’s words, but before she could answer, Ellie continued. “He’s a nice enough boy. And, God knows, he’s had terrible problems to overcome in his life, but he’s not for you, Cara.”
Anger flashed. Ethan hadn’t done anything to qualify as ‘not for you’. The unfairness threw Cara off track. “Why not?” She squeezed her lips together. It was too late to call back her question, to steer the conversation back to her errant almost fiancé, but she really wanted to know.
“Because he’s flighty. Like that other lad. He won’t be one for settling down.” Her mother’s eyes softened. “I know you like him. You’ve always had a soft spot for him…”
“…but don’t make the mistake of thinking he’s the one for you. Not when you have a perfectly good man asking for your hand, who is the settling down type.” Her father finished.
“Well, that’s the thing,” Cara said. “Michael isn’t.”
As she explained, the expression on their faces cycled through concern, disbelief, shock and slid to a halt at anger.
“So where the hell is he now?” Bill demanded. His color was high, and his hands clenched into fists.
“He said he was spending the weekend in Dublin,” Cara said. Being so angry couldn’t be good for his blood pressure. She squeezed his hand. “Ethan just brought me along so I wouldn’t have to explain to everyone.”
Ellie’s arm went around Cara, holding her tight. “But we’re all sitting together—they’ll be an empty space,” Ellie said.
“I’ve reorganized the table. My assistant and the lighting director will be joining you at your table, and Cara is going to sit with me.”
At the voice behind her, Cara turned.
“No one will ask her any awkward questions. Not tonight anyway.” Ethan slipped an arm through hers.
“But people will get the wrong idea.” To Cara’s dismay, her father’s jaw clenched tight. “Being here could be very bad for Cara’s reputation.”
“Any worse than being a no-show?” Ethan’s eyebrows raised. “I’m her friend, Mr. Byrne. She stood with me when I needed a friend, and I intend to return the favor.” He pinned the older man with his stare.
“And it’s not as if I was engaged, Dad. I hadn’t said yes.”
There was really no need to get that in, and Cara felt her face heat as everyone focused their gazes on her. But she hadn’t agreed to marry Michael. And although she’d been upset when she heard the news, it was more the upset of being taken for a fool, rather than the soul-wrenching betrayal of being cheated on by a lover.
She’d known down deep inside that Michael wasn’t the one. If he had been, she would have had no hesitation in tying herself to him forever. His proposal would have filled her with happiness, rather than the worry and feeling of dread that had coursed through her with his proposal.
“You don’t need to put a brave face on it, love,” Bill said.
“I’m not.”
The faces watching hers were painted with disbelief. Even Ethan.
Maggie waved from across the room.
“Right, we’re on.” Ethan took her hand.
Cara turned to her parents. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” She really shouldn’t feel such relief as walking away from their sympathetic faces. Curse Michael for painting her as a heartbroken ninny!
“You know, if you don’t smile, everyone will think I’m a complete bastard,” Ethan whispered in her ear. “And I can’t afford that in this town, so you better cheer up.”
On impulse, she kissed his cheek. She smiled her best Hollywood grin. “We can’t have that.” She might be a mess of confused emotions inside, but this was Ethan’s homecoming. There was no way she was
stealing the limelight or tinting this golden evening grey. Not for a moment.
He’d been so generous, bringing the world premiere of the second Crash Carrigan movie to Donabridge. The money they’d raised so far would ensure the future of the twenty-four hour emergency ambulance service the town so vitally needed. He had a personal reason for making sure the ambulance was always there, and he’d worked hard to support all their efforts. She’d make sure everyone knew she was having a good time in his company.
Her lips still tingled with the remembered feel of Ethan’s cheek, and her fingers curled around his as they walked through the foyer to the cinema’s interior.
****
Ethan tugged at the gold cufflinks at his wrist. Smoothed a hand over the front button of his suit, and reached for the microphone. Before he even opened his mouth, the chatter died, and all eyes turned to him.
For the first time in years his mouth dried in the spotlight of all that rapt attention. It must be being back here, talking in front of so many people who had known him when he was a teenager.
“I’d like to thank everyone for turning out to see ‘Disaster Strikes,’” he said. “And I’d like to thank Fiesta Films for allowing me to contribute to the Donabridge Ambulance Project by holding the premiere here in Donabridge.” He stared out into the dimness, not really able to make out any individual faces in the crowd. “As many of you know, my parents died a few years ago in a tragic accident. If the ambulance service had run on a twenty-four hour basis, they might well be alive today. So I understand how vital this service is to the town, and I’m happy to do all I can to ensure that it thrives.”
He reached into his inner jacket pocket. “I’m currently filming the third Crash Carrigan film, and I have to return to the set in America tomorrow. Before I left, my director, John Mosse, handed me this.” He pulled a sliver of paper out and held it aloft. “It’s a contribution from Fiesta Films. A very generous $50,000 contribution.”
His words were followed by immediate applause. Ethan stepped forward and handed the check to the head of the organizing committee who was seated on the front row.
He held his hands up, palms front. The buzz of discussion and clapping ceased. “Now, let’s watch the movie. Ladies and gentlemen—Disaster Strikes!”
The next two hours dragged. Ethan couldn’t bear to watch himself on screen. Every move his screen image made, he could have improved on. Every line delivered on celluloid should have been given a different inflection. And when he stripped off his clothes onscreen and tumbled into bed with his co-star, the silence in the cinema was charged with excitement. He rubbed his chin, looked at the floor, and thanked God that the lights were out.
“Whew!” Cara blew out a breath. “That’s scorching acting. Hot Stuff,” she whispered.
He could hear the smile in her voice. Somehow her teasing eased his awkwardness. “Somebody’s got to do it,” he leaned close to whisper in her ear.
He saw her teeth gleam in the reflected light from the giant screen as she smiled.
The theme music picked up. Ethan returned his gaze to the screen. The huge car chase so expertly done by a team of stuntmen was about to start. He relaxed back into the velvet seat and surrendered to fantasy.
At the end of the movie, he and Cara climbed into the limo.
Maggie climbed in too. “I need to talk to you about a few things.” She shot a quick glance at Cara.
“Go ahead,” Ethan said. There was nothing she couldn’t say in front of Cara.
“I have a few messages to pass on. From your co-star and others.” Her eyes narrowed. Obviously she thought Cara was his lady for the night rather than just a friend.
Ethan blew out a breath. “Maggie. Cara and I are old friends. That’s all. There’s nothing you need to be discreet about. Now pass on the messages.”
Maggie’s mouth tightened. “Okay.” The ‘you asked for it’ remained unsaid, but was evident in her tone. “Alison Bonne rang to thank you for the flowers, and says she hopes to see you on Thursday night. Belle Masterson wanted to know what time your flight was getting in, and Krista—”
“Hold it.” Ethan held up a hand. “Was Krista upset?”
Maggie nodded. “Very.”
“And rude?”
“X-rated.”
“Okay, well I don’t think you need to repeat her message. Just forward it to my cell and I’ll deal with it when I’m back in the States.”
“Right.” Maggie clicked a button on her cell, and stowed it in her tiny silver evening bag. She crossed her legs and eyed him expectantly.
Ethan mentally blocked out Cara’s silent presence on the seat next to him, and focused on business. “I’ve packed everything. You’ll organize the pick-up from the hotel?”
Maggie nodded. “Yes, on it. The flight is at six, so we’ll need to be on the way to the airport at three.”
The car slowed at the hotel’s entrance.
“Is that it?” Ethan asked.
“Yes, that’ll do. I’ll see you later.” Maggie climbed out of the car and disappeared into the hotel.
Cara has been so quiet in the quick journey from cinema to hotel—hopefully she wasn’t still upset about Michael’s desertion.
Ethan leaned close, breathing in the captivating scent of her perfume. It smelled of flowers, with a note of musk. Light, but with dangerous undertones, rather like its wearer. “Okay?” Ethan asked.
Her face was pale, and her hair haloed her head in golden waves. A dimple creased her cheek as she smiled. “You’re juggling.”
“Women?” He didn’t really need to ask. He’d always known what she meant. They’d talked in unfinished sentences since their teens.
“Lots of women,” Cara said.
“A few women,” Ethan corrected. He was faithful to whomever he was seeing—and demanded the same from his bed partners. His co-star Krista Fortuna wasn’t quite so disciplined. He’d sent her a diamond bracelet, and terminated their relationship on discovering she was also dating a ballet dancer. Unfortunately Krista wasn’t altogether happy with the arrangement.
And Alison and Belle—well, he’d taken then both out to dinner, but hadn’t moved any further than a brief kiss goodnight with either. But that was his business.
The car door was open.
“Let’s go.”
****
The large ballroom of the Diagio Hotel was ringed with circular tables. Cara was aware of curious glances cast her direction, but at least sitting next to Ethan she didn’t have to listen to the whispers, or explain Michael’s absence.
She picked up her champagne flute, and sipped. He’d been right—boycotting the event would have caused much more gossip.
The band began to play.
Couples took to the dance floor, swirling to the catchy beat.
Glancing around, Cara noticed Caitlin Murphy stand and smooth down her short skirt over her thighs. She looked at Ethan, swiped her tongue over her upper lip, and stepped forward on heels so high she deserved a round of applause for even attempting it.
Her hips swung outward with each step. Her gaze never left Ethan’s face, although he was yet to notice her.
“Dance with me,” Ethan’s deep voice broke through Cara’s absorbed study of Caitlin’s approach. His hand covered hers.
“Maybe later, I think someone else—” Cara broke off as Caitlin reached the table.
Caitlin cleared her throat, cast Cara her introduce me and I’ll be your friend for life shaky smile.
“Ethan, you remember Caitlin Murphy, don’t you? From school?”
Ethan blinked slowly. He obviously didn’t remember.
He smiled. “Of course.”
Caitlin’s face flushed red. Cara saw her knees wobble. Wow, talk about a lady-killer.
“I wondered…” Caitlin swallowed. “I wondered if you might like to…”
“To dance?” Ethan asked. To Cara’s relief he didn’t leave the question hanging in the air awaiting a response, but instantly answere
d it. “I’d love to.” He squeezed Cara’s hand, then pushed back his chair and led Caitlin onto the dance floor.
She tried not to watch them. Tried to drag her eyes away from the way Ethan’s hand rested on Caitlin’s hip. The way his shoulders moved. He pushed his hair back. When he angled his head down to listen to something Caitlin said, warmth pooled low in Cara’s stomach.
Attraction.
Attraction like she’d never felt for Ethan before, in all the years they’d been friends. She wrung the napkin lying on her lap into a twisted rope. He’d always been gorgeous, of course. But somehow she’d never seen him as a man before. He’d always been her friend. Strong, reliable and caring, rather than sexy, dangerous and available.
She brought her glass to her lips, then, realizing it was empty, placed it back on the table again.
It must be because of all the fizzing estrogen in the air. That, and the fact that Ethan was obviously so in demand that she’d have to be deaf, dumb and blind not to notice that every woman in the room was lusting after him. It must be catching.
But when he pulled me out of the costume… Cara clenched her jaw tight and forced the traitorous little voice out of her head. Sure, she’d felt something. Who wouldn’t? But Ethan didn’t do serious. And having a fling with him would damage their relationship forever.
He was too valuable a friend to fall in love with.
The music faded into silence.
Cara shook out her napkin. Folded it lengthways, then widthways. Smoothed a hand over the creases. Then carefully placed it on the table slightly offset from center. Anything to avoid watching Ethan and Caitlin dancing.
“Right. Your turn.” She jumped at Ethan’s voice next to her. “Do not turn me down,” he said with a determined light in his eye. “I only managed to get away by saying I’d promised to dance with you next.”
“Well in that case.” She could do this. She wasn’t a child. And she’d danced with Ethan loads of times. With any luck, it would be a fast one, and they could keep contact at a minimum.
He led her onto the dance floor.
Pulled her into his arms in time with the slow, saxophone slide.
The Morning After Page 3