You Know I Do (Curtain Call Book 2)

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You Know I Do (Curtain Call Book 2) Page 2

by Laura Greenwood


  “How about a mix of both?” I suggested with a shrug. Like Belle, I wasn’t one to want to be physically in the spotlight, and if this hadn’t been about my designs, then I wouldn’t be doing it.

  “Alright.” He picked up a small handheld camera, and walked by me. He passed so close that I could feel his body heat, sending a pleasant shiver down my spine. “Tell me about this one.”

  He stopped at a military style coat, in a deep blue fabric. I intended it to be what Henry wore while singing the title song, but that could all change depending on anything, from the weather, to what John ate for breakfast. “That’s one of Henry Shaw’s costumes. Designing for the Phantom gave me a greater leeway than most of the other male characters, simply because the Phantom doesn’t have to adhere to the fashions of the time.”

  “And you made this?”

  “Absolutely, every item that comes out of my costume department is made by hand. The only thing I allow them to order in is the shoes.”

  “Why?” I wasn’t sure if I was reading him right, but he almost looked like he was genuinely curious, rather than just asking the questions he was supposed to.

  “Pride, in part.” I wasn’t ashamed to admit that. It would be hard enough for me to get a job in fashion, after I finished college, without me making it worse with false modesty. Besides, I was good at what I did. I had been from when I was a small child and my Mum had bought me my first sewing kit. I’d been eight, and had sewn dresses for all of my Barbie dolls. “But also, it gives me more chance to be creative. I don’t have to make do with what I can find, not when I can make it and have it perfect to begin with.”

  “And how much influence does Ms Phillips have over the costumes?” Now that was a question he was supposed to ask. I could tell from the tone in which he said it. I smiled at him.

  “Me and Belle often talk about the staging and costumes together. We both have our individual visions, but we’ve known each other long enough to be along the same lines more often than not. But if one of us has a very specific idea, the other will normally give in.”

  “You have a close relationship with her then?” He sounded surprised, and I wondered why. Sure, Belle could be a little cautious around people, but most people thought she was sweet and upbeat all the time.

  “I’d hope so, we’ve known each other for nearly ten years,” I laughed, thinking back to the day we’d met at school. It’d been later that same day that I’d known I’d met my lifelong best friend.

  I took David through the rest of the costumes, while he injected other insightful questions, and I could definitely see why it was him that the production company had sent. He was easy to talk to, and seemed to know where I was going before I got there. Thankfully, that seemed to mean that we didn’t have to do many retakes. It wasn’t even until he was packing away his camera equipment, that I realised we were actually done.

  He stood facing me, once he’d finished, and ran a nervous hand through his dark hair, giving him a sexy ruffled look that I couldn’t help but like. Men that were too groomed just seemed wrong to me. “I was wondering if you’d like to go out for dinner?” He blurted out, so much less smooth than he’d been now that the cameras were switched off.

  “I’d like that.” I smiled at him and he relaxed slightly, letting out a small laugh.

  “Sorry, I’m not sure why I was so nervous about that.” He shrugged. I didn’t blame him, it was always nerve wracking asking someone out for the first time. It was nerve wracking accepting, too. I hadn’t dated in a while. Between the show and college, I’d just been too busy. But the interview had gone so smoothly that I figured I owed it to myself to see if there was anything more than physical attraction between us.

  Chapter 3

  I straightened my jumper; a soft pink one that I’d made myself. I made a lot of my own clothes, especially as they say that practice makes perfect. Plus, I could hardly expect other people to wear my creations if I didn’t wear them myself. Belle also wore a lot of my creations, just like she had when we’d been teenagers. It meant that we’d never had to worry about other girls wearing the same dress. I’d teamed it with black skinny jeans and comfy black boots. Not my normal date outfit by any stretch of the imagination, but David’s texts last night had specified that I should wear something comfortable, and that he’d meet me outside the theatre at ten am. What kind of person had a first date at ten in the morning? Well me, I guess. But it was definitely a first.

  I was curious about what he’d planned, as well as a little bit more excited than I’d admitted. I don’t think I fooled Belle with my feigned nonchalance when we talked about it last night. She could read me just as well as I could read her. I’d never had the best luck in relationships, not quite as bad as Belle had, but still enough to make me wary. Even so, the easiness of conversation between me and David, which had carried on via text, and it was safe to say that I had high hopes for today.

  I’d been outside the theatre for a little over two minutes, when David pulled up on a bike. Not one of those outrageously big and loud things that some men rode, but a sleek red one, that was perfect for the small streets around the city.

  “Hey,” he said with a smile, standing up and pulling off his helmet. His hair was all mussed up; a look that I definitely preferred to the over-groomed one favoured by the few straight guys in my fashion lectures, or the slicked back looks that the guys at the theatre had to adopt during most of our productions.

  “Hi, want to tell me what we’re doing yet?” I asked. He shuffled awkwardly, as if he wanted to put an arm around me, but stopping himself for some reason. It’s not like I would have protested, not with how good he looked in his shirt and leather jacket combination.

  “Nope.” He grinned like a kid getting a new toy. He turned back to his bike and lifted the seat, pulling out a second helmet and handing it to me. I took it nervously. I’d never been on a bike before, and was feeling a little apprehensive at the thought of it. But when we’d talked about David’s messages the night before, Belle had made me promise to go with it today. She knew me too well it seemed, and didn’t want me flaking out on him. Not that I really wanted to flake out, but my sense of self-preservation went a little into overdrive at times. “Hop on.” He swung his leg over the bike, and after a moment, I followed suit. I was surprised by how close his body was to mine, the heat coming from him doing funny, but not unwelcome, things to me.

  I slipped my arms around his waist and leant my head against his back, enjoying the closeness. Plus, I liked that I didn’t have to worry about one of us saying the wrong thing and ruining whatever this was before it had even begun. The engine thrummed beneath us, and I could feel the muscles in his back flexing when he pulled the throttle, the bike making a revving noise as he pulled away. As we pulled away from the city, David sped up, and the wind whistled past us. It took me a few minutes, but soon the thrill of the ride overtook me, making me want to laugh with exhilaration.

  After about ten minutes, we pulled up in front of a club house style building. It was one of those that parents tended to hire for their children’s parties, along with loads of balloons, cake and cheesy disco tunes. It was the kind of party that I’d longed for as a child, but had never had. Mostly because I hadn’t been popular enough in school to be able to invite enough people. In hindsight, it didn’t bother me, not when I’d got genuine friends instead, but at the time it really had. Whenever anyone told me that my school days were the best of my life, I felt a bit sorry for them; I was convinced that the best was yet to come.

  David pulled off his helmet, and leant forward to unclip mine. He drew it over my head gently, making me self-consciously pat down my hair, thankful that I’d tied it back in a French plait; almost as if I’d known that I’d need to avoid helmet hair. David brushed a blonde strand that must have escaped behind my ear, smiling down at me with an unreadable expression on his face.

  “You ready?” He asked, and I nodded once. He put both of the helmets back under the
seat, before slipping his hand into mine and walking towards the building. I didn’t say anything, I didn’t know what to say if I was honest, but the silence was actually kind of comfortable. I liked the feel of his hand in mine too, it was both strong and reassuring. This might be our first date, but for some reason I felt like we were already beyond that.

  There was a reception desk inside the building, and doors to changing rooms on either side, completely changing my perspective on where we were. If I had to take a second guess; it’d have to be some kind of leisure club, but I wasn’t sure. The whole ‘spending loads of time at the gym’ thing had never been for me; even if that was somewhat hypocritical of me when I found toned gym goers attractive.

  “Morning, David. Lane six is open for you,” the receptionist, a bored looking man probably in his mid to late forties, told him.

  “Thanks, Philip.” David smiled and moved away from the changing rooms and towards the double doors opposite where we’d come in.

  “What are we doing here?” I asked, the curiosity finally getting the better of me.

  “Wait and see,” he teased, a smile on his face and excitement glittering in his eyes. There was an odd thudding noise coming from the left, but I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what it was that was making it. The odour of stale sweat, which seemed to be coming from the entire building, was making me think I’d been right in my assessment; this was a leisure club. Not that that gave me much of a clue as to why we were here on a date.

  Finally, we went through another door, and reached what seemed to be our destination. Or at least it did, if the giant six above the lane was anything to go by. I glanced around, and spied what looked to be archery equipment, making a weird excited squeal as I did. My hand flew to my mouth, embarrassed by the noise I’d just made, and that David might’ve noticed it. Behind me, he chuckled deeply; no chance he hadn’t heard then.

  “Sorry, I’ve just always wanted to try this,” I explained weakly, not that it helped with the embarrassment situation.

  “I know,” I turned to find him smirking, and quirked a questioning eyebrow at him. “Belle told me.” He shrugged as if it was no big deal.

  “The little snitch!” I muttered. Even as I said it, I recognised that there was a part of me that was grateful; how could there not be? Especially when he’d gone to the effort of getting information out of Belle.

  “She took some persuading to tell me, and when she finally did, it came with a lecture. She was kind of scary.” It was my turn to laugh. Sure, Belle had her issues, and some of that meant that she tried to please other people too much, putting herself last almost all of the time. But give her something to get fired up about, and she wasn’t to be messed with. In those circumstances, she actually was kind of scary. Dating Jack these past two weeks had had a big impact on her it seemed; I’d seen her stand up for herself, and for the show, more than once recently, and had to put it down to his influence on her. Not that Jack was changing her as such, but more that he was allowing her to trust in who she was again.

  “That’s what best friends are for,” David smiled, handing me some protective gear, including a finger brace thing which I couldn’t for the life of me figure out how to put on.

  “Here.” He took it from me gently, and proceeded to put it on properly. His fingers brushed mine, making it feel as if sparks were igniting as our skin touched. I wasn’t a love-at-first-sight kind of girl, I never had been. There was absolutely no way I could deny that there was something between us, something more than just physical attraction. If that was the case, then we’d be able to scratch that itch in one night. But something deep inside me was saying that what I could have with David was something far more meaningful than that. Which was a kind of scary feeling.

  I was distracted from my thoughts by David demonstrating how to shoot, his muscular arms pulling back as he did. I tried to focus more on the techniques he was using, rather than what he looked like doing it, but my eyes just kept straying. Then, way before I was ready, it was my turn. Saying I made a pig’s ear of it was an understatement. It always looked so easy when people did archery in films, but getting the power behind it was a major issue for me. So much so that I didn’t have to worry about whether it would hit the target or not; none of my arrows had even got that far yet.

  Eventually, David took pity on me, and moved around me so that he could guide my movements. I had to hand it to him, archery was a good way to get close to a girl on a first date. My back was pressed against his chest, and his hands were entwined with my own. He talked me through the process, his low voice rumbling in my ear and giving me shivers. Finally, I managed to let loose an arrow that almost made it to the target. I jumped up and down in excitement.

  He smiled at my enthusiasm, and the two of us fell back into comfortable silence as we took more turns at the target. Even if I didn’t know much about archery, I could tell that David was good at it. His arrows always hit the target, and almost always hit the middle, while my skills had only marginally improved since we’d started. It didn’t take me long to realise that this was the most fun I’d had on a date in years, if not ever, and the best part was that I hadn’t even had a drink while on it.

  After we’d finished, David drove us back into the city to one of those quaint little tea shops, the kind that have twenty different teas on the menu and serve little sandwiches with scones and cake. It wasn’t what I’d necessarily have picked for a date; in fact, it was quite the opposite. If I went for Afternoon Tea at all, then it would be with Belle, or my Mum when she came to visit.

  “How long have you been doing archery?” I asked, taking a sip of my Earl Grey. Not my normal choice of tea either, but this wasn’t exactly a normal day.

  “Since I was about thirteen. My older brother begged our Dad to let him go, so I thought it was a good idea to do the same.”

  “You have a brother?”

  “Yes, do you?” He asked, seeming genuinely interested.

  “No, I’m an only child.” I’d have loved a brother or sister, but it wasn’t on the cards for me. Not with my Dad leaving when I was small. I don’t really remember him, but Mum never met anyone else, so it was just me and her against the world. Which reminded me, I really should call her.

  “Was that lonely growing up?”

  “A little,” I admitted despite myself. I barely even talked to Belle about this, she just wouldn’t understand, since she had a younger brother. “But it’s not like I know any different really. Besides, I have Belle now.” I shrugged. Belle was like the sister I never had, and the bond we had was nigh on unbreakable, as proven by the fact we spent those awful eighteen months without talking. Not that it was either of our faults; but if we could survive Toby, then our friendship could survive anything.

  “You two are really close then?”

  I nodded, having just taken a bite of a delicious smoked salmon and cream cheese sandwich. I couldn’t wait to graduate and have a job that allowed me to eat stuff like this more often, but as it was, I just didn’t have the time. College, along with the experience at the theatre, just about cleaned me out of time. Thankfully, I’d saved up before starting, even taking a gap year, so between that and the grant I was lucky enough to have, I did okay financially. It helped that Belle often bought materials for me to use to make our clothes.

  “What’s the deal with her and Jack?” I could hear his reluctance to ask in his voice, but even that didn’t stop the cold dread that ran through me. Belle and Jack were keeping things quiet, even if they were dating, and I’d hate to think that anyone that didn’t know them well had noticed; it would make things more difficult for Belle, and that just wasn’t on.

  “What do you mean?” Dammit, that’s the one question I shouldn’t have asked, and a sure-fire way of letting the other person know that I was deflecting.

  “I just get the impression that they like each other. He certainly has a thing for her, and just about everyone knows it.” I breathed a sigh of relief, he’
d just noticed Jack’s lingering looks, and they’d started long before the two of them had actually been on a date.

  “Belle doesn’t really date.” I shrugged, uncomfortable with where the conversation was going, and almost desperate to change it.

  “You do fashion at college, right?” Thankfully, he’d seemed to read the situation right, and did me the favour of changing the subject, so I nodded. “Is costumes what you want to do, or…” he trailed off, leaving the rest of his question hanging, probably because he didn’t actually know anything more about the jobs available in the fashion sector.

  “Yes, costumes are what I want to do. I like creating normal clothes too, but where’s the challenge in designing a jumper or a t-shirt really? I mean with modern fashion, just about anything could go. What I like is the challenge of creating something to meet criteria.” I probably spoke too quickly, but I couldn’t help it. Costumes and fashion just got to me that way.

  “Like for the theatre?”

  “Yep, exactly like that. The costumes have to match the right era, the feel of the play, as well as allowing the actors to move around and sing in them. That’s a lot of restrictions, and creating something that fits, really feels like an achievement.” He smiled at me.

  “You know your eyes light up when you talk about it?”

  I blushed and looked hastily down at my plate, pushing around a piece of scone I’d dropped.

  “Sorry,” I mumbled.

  “Sorry that you’re passionate about something? That’s a new one!” I could hear his amusement, and it made me feel a little better about myself. I’d always been self-conscious about things like this, and had been since the kids at school had found out I liked sewing. It wasn’t seen as cool, and they made that as clear as they could, in the cruellest way they could think of. Luckily, Mum had raised me to be tough, and I’d weathered it well enough. Even so, I knew that I was lucky to still have an intact passion at the end of it. Though it did make me wonder how many kids found their passion but abandoned it because of the cruelty of others. I snapped myself out of it, knowing that I wasn’t making good conversation for poor David.

 

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