Behind the Film Star's Smile (6 page)

‘I’ll see you later,’ she said.

He nodded. ‘I’ll call you when we break for lunch. And thank you, Jess. I really do appreciate this.’

‘No problem,’ she said. ‘Come on, Baloo. We’re going to the office. Walkies.’

The dog perked up and wagged her tail. ‘See you later, Luke,’ Jess said, clipped Baloo’s leash onto her collar, and headed for the production office.

*

Normally, Luke loved his job. He liked the script for this film, he liked the director, and he liked most of his co-stars—Mimi, admittedly, he could do without, but he’d put up with her for the sake of the film.

But today he couldn’t concentrate.

All he could think about was the fact that he’d be seeing more of Jess. And how she’d felt in his arms when he’d hugged her impulsively.

It should make him want to run a mile. After Fleur, he’d dated a lot, in a vain attempt to make himself feel better. But it hadn’t worked, so he’d simply stopped dating and given himself a bit of space to get his head together. He’d managed to avoid most of the situations where well-meaning friends had tried to fix him up with someone they thought would be perfect for him.

But Jess Greenacre... Jess intrigued him. He wanted to know what made her tick. What made her laugh.

She was definitely a puzzle. A dog trainer who knew barristers and medics. Or maybe they were people she’d met at university, or friends of the family, and he was making too much of it.

He just about managed to focus on rehearsals until the lunchtime break. And then he discovered he wasn’t actually getting a break—they needed to go straight into shooting.

‘I need to make a couple of quick calls, first,’ he told George, the director.

‘They need to be really quick,’ George warned.

‘I’m calling Jess, to let her know that I need her to look after Baloo at lunchtime, and my aunt Monica, to see how she’s doing this morning,’ Luke explained.

And how stupid was it that he was disappointed not to get the chance to see Jess?

*

‘No, it’s fine. I understand,’ Jess said when Luke explained the situation over the phone. ‘You don’t need to apologise. Now go, before you get into trouble.’

In the end, she took her lunch break with Baloo in the park opposite the set. Just for fun, she ran through a couple more training moves with the dog, and was impressed by the way the dog responded. ‘You could have a real career in show business, sweetheart,’ she said, scratching the top of the dog’s head.

Baloo sighed and rested her head on Jess’s knee.

‘Enough for today, I think,’ Jess said. ‘Give me a wave goodbye for the park?’

Baloo woofed and lifted her paw.

‘That’s cool,’ a voice said beside her.

Jess turned to see a little girl who looked as if she was six or seven. Alone in the park and talking to strangers? That wasn’t good. She tried to keep the little girl talking while she scanned the park to see if a parent or carer was nearby. Failing that, she’d put a call in to the nearest police station and get someone to look after the little girl and keep her safe until her family or carer was found. ‘What’s cool? That my dog can wave?’

The little girl nodded. ‘Does your dog dance?’

‘I’ve never tried dancing with her,’ Jess said. Where on earth was the child’s mother? Was she one of the nearby women concentrating on a mobile phone call?

‘There was a dancing dog on the telly on Saturday night. It was really good.’ The little girl regarded Baloo solemnly. ‘You should get her to dance.’

To Jess’s relief, a woman came hurrying over to them. ‘Aisling! You know you shouldn’t go off and talk to strangers,’ she scolded, then grimaced at Jess. ‘I’m so sorry. My daughter does like to talk.’

‘You were on the phone, Mum,’ Aisling said.

Jess schooled her face into a neutral expression, though privately she agreed with the little girl. Her mum really should’ve concentrated on her rather than on the phone call. Children were precious—and Jess knew from her police work how easily things could go wrong. ‘Aisling, maybe next time you should wait until your mum’s said it’s OK before you start talking to someone,’ Jess said gently. ‘Not everyone’s nice.’

The little girl’s lower lip wobbled. ‘But you’ve got a
dog
. That means you’re nice.’

Not always, Jess thought. And the dog wasn’t actually hers.

‘She’s desperate for a dog,’ Aisling’s mother explained to Jess. ‘Love, you know we can’t have one. The landlord won’t let us have dogs because they chew things.’

‘This one definitely chews and she especially likes designer shoes, which gets her into a bit of trouble,’ Jess said with a smile. ‘Maybe wait until you’re grown up, Aisling. Then, if you can’t have a dog of your own, maybe you can work with animals—you could be a dog trainer.’

‘Are you a dog trainer?’ Aisling asked.

It was too complicated to explain. Jess simply smiled and nodded.

Aisling brightened. ‘So you
could
teach your dog to dance...’

Jess smiled. ‘Maybe one day.’

She thought about it when the child had gone. Baloo had responded so well to the training they’d done so far. Would she take to performing?

She took her MP3 player from her bag, found some music, and encouraged Baloo up on her hind legs. And she was surprised by how quickly the dog picked up the idea. Two steps forward, two steps back, head to one side...

‘We could work out a routine,’ she said thoughtfully as she rewarded the dog for her work. ‘You’re the perfect dog for Luke McKenzie. I’m with his aunt, on that. You could even be in show business with him.’

Baloo’s answer was to lick Jess’s face, and Jess laughed.

She headed back to the production office and spent the afternoon run off her feet. Luke texted her to let her know that shooting was running over and ask if it was OK to look after Baloo a bit longer. She texted back to say it was fine, and simply carried on at her desk until he came to collect the dog.

‘How’s your aunt doing?’ she asked.

‘Better, after a night’s sleep. And I told her you were helping me with the dog, so everything’s fine and all she has to worry about is getting back on her feet. She still doesn’t know when she’ll be allowed home, though.’

Jess looked sympathetic. ‘That must be so frustrating for her.’

‘Given that Monica lives her life at a hundred miles an hour...I’ll give her a day before being stuck in bed drives her completely crazy and she’s begging to be let out.’ He sighed. ‘At least her best friend is with her.’

‘But you’ll be happier once she’s back in London and you can keep an eye on her?’

Luke smiled. ‘I’m not sure that Monica would allow anyone to keep an eye on her. But something like that, yes. How was your day?’

‘Good, thanks.’ She paused. ‘Dare I ask how it’s going, or is that bad luck?’

He smiled. ‘I’m not superstitious. It’s going OK, thanks. I’m just sorry things overran. I feel as if I’m taking advantage of you.’

She shook her head. ‘It’s fine. Really.’

‘Can I buy you dinner?’ he asked. ‘Just to say thanks?’

Making it very clear that it wasn’t a date, she thought. ‘It’s fine. You really don’t have to do that.’

‘Would you accept it from Baloo?’ he asked.

She smiled. ‘I don’t think dog treats count as legal currency.’

‘I’ll give her an advance on her pocket money,’ he said. ‘Have dinner with us. It’s not going to be anything fancy—I mean, I think The Ivy might just say no if I ask them to reserve a table for two and a dog bowl. But we could have some take-out in my trailer.’ He nudged the dog. ‘Hey. This is your cue to do the big brown eyes bit and the sad face.’

Baloo immediately dropped to the floor and put her head on her paws, looking up at Jess.

Jess couldn’t help smiling. ‘You two are such a double act. OK. Take-out would be lovely.’

‘And it also means we won’t get papped,’ he said softly. ‘That’s the one bit I hate about my job. I don’t get much privacy. I mean, yes—the film business has been good to me, and I appreciate that. I never mind spending time talking to fans and signing autographs—without them, I wouldn’t get to do the job I love. But sometimes living your life constantly in the spotlight feels like too high a price. I’d love to be able to take you for dinner at the nearest dog-friendly pub. But, if I did, there’s a very good chance a photographer would be around, and then you’d find your picture in the gossip pages tomorrow morning and a lot of speculation to back it up.’

Which was the last thing she wanted. With a little bit of digging, any journalist would quickly find out that she was Matt’s widow. The story would be dragged up all over again. And who knew what spin they’d use to talk about Luke?

‘Agreed,’ she said softly. ‘At least here we’re under set rules.’

‘Thank you for being understanding,’ he said. ‘It’s not that I’m ashamed to be seen with you. I mean, we’re friends. And I’m not looking for a relationship right now.’

He couldn’t make it clearer than that. Any secret thoughts she might’ve been harbouring about him—well, it wasn’t going to happen. Besides, hadn’t he already warned her about people who fell in love with the characters he played, which weren’t necessarily anything like the man himself?

‘Me, neither,’ she said. Just to make sure he didn’t think that she was going to turn out to be a Kathy Bates-style ‘number one fan’ from the movies.

‘But friends...I could use a friend,’ he said.

‘Me, too,’ she said, and hoped her voice didn’t sound as quivery as her knees felt when he smiled at her.

Luke found the menu from a local takeaway online, and between them they decided on a selection of dishes.

‘Can I be horribly rude and sort out a couple of things for tomorrow’s filming while we wait?’ he asked.

‘Sure. I’ll take Baloo for a walk. See you in a quarter of an hour?’ she asked.

‘That’d be good.’

She took Baloo into the parkland surrounding the set, and they found a patch of evening sunshine to sit in.

‘I need my head examining, Baloo,’ she told the dog, and was rewarded by the dog putting her paws on Jess’s shoulders and licking her face.

‘Very helpful,’ she said dryly, making a fuss of the dog. ‘If you could talk, you’d tell me that you adore him, wouldn’t you?’

Big brown eyes regarded her thoughtfully.

‘I think he’s a nice guy. Just his life’s a bit of a mess, right now. I think he needs you,’ she told the dog. ‘Someone to teach him to love again. To trust.’

Ha. The same could be said of her. Though she wasn’t single because of a betrayal by her partner. Trust didn’t come into it. Her problem was fear.

‘And I have no idea how I make the fear go away, Baloo,’ she said softly. ‘If I let someone close...what happens if I lose them, too, the way I lost Matt and Comet?’ OK, so what had happened to them was outside the norm. Death wasn’t usually the result of someone’s intent. It was more likely to be a serious illness, or an accident. There were no guarantees that anyone in her life could cross the road safely every day for the next fifty years. Jess knew all that, intellectually. But knowing it emotionally was a different matter. And the fear kept her shut in that box of loneliness.

‘Now I’m being maudlin.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘And we’re due back at Luke’s trailer.’

They arrived at the same time as their meal. Luke found some plates and Jess served up. And then Jess fed morsels of chicken surreptitiously under the table to Baloo.

‘Are you feeding that dog under the table, Ms Greenacre?’ he asked, catching Jess’s eye.

‘Busted.’ She laughed. ‘Sorry, I’m really not supposed to do that. It’s a bad habit and it means she’ll be a pain at the dinner table in the future, begging and expecting treats.’

‘But those big brown eyes have suckered you in?’

‘Yes,’ she admitted.

Luke spread his hands. ‘Well, she’s looking for a good home. You could always adopt her.’

Jess shook her head. ‘I can’t have a dog where I live. Whereas I’d guess that you don’t have a landlord who’s banned dogs from the premises.’

He laughed back. ‘Are you quite sure you haven’t been talking to my aunt?’

‘I’m sure.’

‘Monica would like you,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘And you’d like her.’

‘I already like what you’ve told me about her.’ Jess ruffled Baloo’s fur. ‘And I like the fact that she rescued this one. Baloo’s a great dog, Luke. She just gets a bit anxious when she’s left, and a bit of training can sort that out. She won’t always open your cupboards and chew things.’

‘I guess,’ he said. ‘But my answer still has to be no.’

Maybe, Jess thought, he might change his mind when he realised that Baloo was most definitely a performer’s dog.

And she’d do her best to convince him.

CHAPTER FIVE

O
N
F
RIDAY
,
WHEN
Luke came to collect Baloo, he said, ‘Jess, I know you’ve probably had enough of both of us this week, but would you like to have dinner with us tonight?’

Another take-out in his trailer? ‘Only if it’s my shout,’ she said, striving for a bit of independence. She didn’t want Luke thinking that she saw him as a potential open wallet. He might be wealthy, but that didn’t mean he should give everyone a free ride.

‘Actually, I thought maybe I could cook for us,’ he said diffidently.

She looked at him in surprise. ‘You can cook?’

He lifted his chin, and she was pretty sure that he was deliberately hamming up the offended expression when he intoned, ‘Of course I can cook!’

‘Interesting.’ She raised her eyebrows. ‘Considering that all the food we’ve eaten together since I’ve known you has been made by someone else—even the sandwiches.’

‘It’s easier that way when I’m working, because I never know when I’m going to finish,’ he said, ‘but, seriously, when I’m not working I usually cook for myself. It relaxes me. Come and have dinner?’

It felt like a genuine offer rather than being polite. And, given what he’d said last night, she was pretty sure he meant on a friendship only basis. ‘OK, then. That would be nice.’

When the afternoon’s shoot had finished, Luke drove them back to his place.

‘I’m impressed that you have a crate in the back for Baloo,’ she said.

‘That was Monica’s idea,’ he admitted. ‘And it’s a lot easier driving her to work than dragging the poor dog across London on the Tube.’

As they drove into Bermondsey, Jess realised that they were heading towards the Thames. Did Luke actually live in a place overlooking the river?

They reached a block of modern three-storey mews houses, built from yellow brick with a line of red brick above the elegant white window frames. The ground floor of the building was painted white, to match the front door and garage doors; this was the kind of house, Jess thought, that would need a seriously large salary to support the mortgage.

Luke pressed a switch on his key fob and the garage door opened.

‘Impressive,’ she said. ‘Parking where I live is on the street, with a permit.’

‘There really isn’t enough space to park on the street, here, so they built this block with integrated parking,’ Luke said.

Once they were inside, he shut the garage door behind them, let Baloo out of the car, and unlocked the door to the house.

‘I guess I should give you the guided tour, first,’ he said, and gestured to the first two doors. ‘Utility room and downstairs toilet.’ He opened the third door. ‘This room was meant to be a bedroom, really, but I use it as my office because of the view.’

It was incredibly neat and tidy, Jess thought. There was a very plain glass desk with a state-of-the-art desktop computer on top of it, a filing cabinet, a small sofa, and bookshelves that she itched to browse through—but she managed to stop herself, because she didn’t want to appear rude and nosey.

He gestured to the French doors. ‘Take a look.’

She glanced out. The room overlooked the garden and had an amazing view of the River Thames. ‘Wow—you can actually see Tower Bridge from here,’ she exclaimed.

‘And the City of London skyline—there’s a better view from the next two floors.’ He smiled. ‘The important thing here is the garden, from Baloo’s point of view.’

Like his office, the garden was very neat; it was laid mainly to honey-coloured paving slabs, though there were stylishly arranged terracotta pots containing flowering shrubs.

‘I’m not the best gardener,’ he admitted. ‘The garden’s all thanks to my mother. It kind of keeps her happy.’

It was the first time Jess could remember him mentioning his mother; and it sounded as if the relationship was a little strained, because he’d spoken about his aunt with a great deal more affection.

Baloo pattered up the stairs and they followed her to the landing on the next floor. ‘The top two floors are bedrooms and bathrooms,’ he said, indicating the stairs. ‘And this is the kitchen.’ It was more than twice the size of Jess’s own narrow galley-style kitchen, and it looked like something from a magazine showpiece, with light ash cabinets, shiny black worktops and a slate floor. There wasn’t a river view, this time, as the room overlooked the street.

Again everything was very neat and tidy; there was no clutter of any description on the worktops, apart from a kettle and an expensive Italian coffee-maker. There weren’t even any magnets holding photographs or notes to the fridge. It felt like more a place to live than a home, she thought.

Not that she had room to talk. She hadn’t put up any of her framed photographs in her new place, and she’d lived there for almost a year now.

The next room was a huge reception room. Again, it looked fresh from the pages of a style magazine, with soft leather sofas, a state-of-the-art TV and sound system, and what looked like original oil paintings on the wall. The floors were polished wood—clearly real wood and not cheap veneer—and there were a couple of artfully placed silk kelims between the sofas. There was an area with a dining table and eight chairs, so obviously Luke was used to entertaining.

There were two more sets of French doors on the wall overlooking the river. Luke unlocked them, and she stepped onto the narrow balcony with its wrought iron bistro table and two chairs. The view of the waterfront was stunning, and she could pick out all the landmark buildings of the London skyline along with Tower Bridge; the Gherkin and the Shard were instantly recognisable. ‘This is amazing,’ she said, meaning it. ‘I totally get why you love this house. You can sit on this balcony and watch the world go by. Well, on the river.’

‘We get some amazing sunsets with the bridge in the background,’ he said. ‘There are fabulous views at night, too, when all the buildings are lit up.’

‘I can imagine,’ she said wistfully. This was another world. How the beautiful people lived. So far from her own life. ‘I can see why you chose it.’

‘I wanted to live on the river, but I didn’t want another flat. I wanted a house, and I was really lucky when this one came on the market.’ He smiled. ‘I’ve always liked this area of London. It has a lot of connections with film—did you know they shot part of a James Bond movie here? As well as
Bridget Jones
and
Oliver
.’ He spread his hands and gave her a disarming smile. ‘I can get really boring about Dickens, so shut me up when I start.’

She couldn’t imagine that Luke McKenzie could be boring about anything. He had one of those voices that could make a reading of the telephone directory sound interesting—deep, clear and slightly posh. She could listen to him for hours. But obviously he expected her to change the subject, so she did her best. ‘Is that the Thames Path between your garden and the river?’ she asked.

‘Yes. It’s based on the old towpaths that the barges used,’ he confirmed.

‘I always meant to walk part of it—well, obviously not the whole thing.’ She knew the path was almost two hundred miles long, running between the source of the Thames in the Cotswolds and the Thames Barrier outside Greenwich. ‘But I never quite got round to it.’ And walking it on her own, without her partner and her dog, just hadn’t felt right.

‘Maybe some time you could come exploring with me and Baloo,’ he suggested.

Of course he’d offer. Luke McKenzie had impeccable manners. She bit her lip. ‘Sorry. I wasn’t fishing for an invitation.’

‘I know. But I was planning to do it anyway—and, if you come with us, then people aren’t going to stare at me as if I’m this total lunatic talking to my dog.’

She laughed. ‘Half the time they’ll be talking to their own dogs. Besides, it’s more likely that they’d be staring at you, working out if they dare come and ask you for an autograph.’

He shrugged. ‘Well, the offer’s there. I understand if you’re busy. Baloo and I have already taken up a lot of your time this week.’

No pressure. And she appreciated that. ‘I’m already doing something this weekend,’ she said, ‘but I’d love to come for a walk with you both some time. I don’t really know the Docklands area.’

He smiled. ‘I do. I’ve lived here for five years. Well, not this house—I moved here after the divorce. There were too many memories in my old place.’

She could understand that. She’d moved out of their house a month after Matt’s death, even though everyone had said she should leave it for at least three months before making any major changes in her life. But she just hadn’t been able to handle going into a room and expecting to see him and Comet there, then having to relive the loss all over again. She’d needed a fresh start. Somewhere with no memories. ‘I know how that feels, too,’ she said softly.

‘Yeah.’ He wrinkled his nose. ‘Time for dinner. It’s a nice evening, so do you want to eat on the balcony?’

‘That’d be nice. What can I do to help?’

‘Nothing, really. Except maybe feed Baloo.’ He showed her where the dog food was kept, and the dog sat patiently while Jess filled her bowl.

‘And now for dinner.’ He produced a chef’s hat, making her laugh.

‘No way do you wear that to cook dinner every night.’

‘Oh, but I do,’ he said with a grin. ‘Perfect for reheating a TV dinner in the microwave.’

She laughed back. ‘So do you have a full collection of silly hats, then?’

He smiled. ‘Busted. Actually, I borrowed this one from Wardrobe, earlier today. And they won’t be happy if I get it messy.’ He took off the hat and put it safely out of the way. ‘I was bluffing about the TV dinners, too. I’m not quite that bad.’

Jess watched him cook. And she noticed that he used a container of ready-prepared vegetables, another container of ready-chopped chicken, and a sachet of ready-made stir-fry sauce.

She couldn’t resist teasing him. ‘I thought you said you were cooking?’

‘I am.’

She coughed. ‘You’re just throwing ready-prepped stuff into a wok and sizzling it together. That’s not
really
cooking.’

He laughed back. ‘It’s just a quick meal. So you’re a gourmet cook, are you?’

‘I like experimenting,’ she said. Not that she’d bothered much since Matt’s death. Since then, she’d barely noticed what she ate, so there hadn’t been much point in spending time on preparation.

‘I think I need a demonstration. Just to prove that you can walk the talk,’ he said.

Was he teasing her back, or was he serious?

She decided to call his bluff. ‘Sure. I’ll cook for us next weekend.’ Then her common sense kicked in. She paused. ‘That is, if you’re not already booked up.’

‘At a glitzy showbiz party?’ He rolled his eyes. ‘Trust me, they’re not as frequent as the press like to make out. And they’re even less fun.’ He smiled. ‘Baloo and I are free next weekend, and we’d love to accept your offer.’

Oh, help. He
had
been serious. ‘Small problem,’ she said. ‘Not that I’m trying to chicken out. But my lease says I’m not allowed to have a dog, and one of my neighbours is a little bit...how can I put this, without being mean? I think he’s lonely, so he takes a little bit too much interest in what other people do.’

‘So he’ll tell your landlord if you have a canine visitor, which will get you into hot water.’

She nodded. ‘And you can’t leave Baloo here on her own.’

The dog, hearing her name, looked up and woofed softly.

‘So that lets you off the hook.’

Was that really disappointment in his expression, or was she just seeing what part of her secretly wanted to see? She decided to take a risk. ‘Unless,’ she said, ‘you wouldn’t mind me using your kitchen. Though it’s a bit of a cheek to ask.’

‘It’s not a cheek, it’s a workable solution,’ he corrected. ‘I’m not territorial. Though you’ll have an audience when you’re cooking. And we’ll both expect treats for good behaviour, you know.’

She laughed. ‘I love your sense of the ridiculous. Treats, hmm? I’ll see what I can do.’ She stroked Baloo’s head. ‘Talking of treats and audiences, we’ve been working on a little something. Would you like to see the premiere, after dinner?’

*

Jess Greenacre was turning out to be full of surprises. Away from the set, she was opening up more, and Luke liked the woman he was getting to know. She had a sense of fun. She teased him, and she let him tease her back. And she didn’t treat him as if he were on a pedestal: she treated him like an ordinary man. Which was incredibly refreshing.

‘I’d like that,’ he said. ‘Dinner’s ready.’

He waited until she’d had the first mouthful. ‘So? Cheat food, is it?’

‘Yes. But it’s nice. I’ll give you that.’

He laughed, relaxing. And he appreciated the fact that Jess didn’t have a desperate need to chatter. Silence with her was gentle, rather than awkward.

When they’d finished dinner, he let her carry her plate through to the kitchen, but refused to let her help clear up. ‘That’s what a dishwasher’s for. I’ll sort it later. You promised me a premiere.’

‘I did indeed. Ready, Baloo?’ she asked.

The dog gave a soft woof.

‘OK. Then have a seat, sir, and enjoy the show.’ She gestured to the sofa, and gave him a small bow, making him smile. Then she took her MP3 player from her handbag, flicked into a song, and set the player on his table.

He recognised the song immediately—the old classic, ‘Can’t Take My Eyes Off Of You’.

‘I love this. It always makes me think of that movie with Heath Ledger.’

‘Me, too. I loved that film,’ she said, looking slightly wistful, and started the routine.

Baloo circled round her, circled the other way, then sat in front of her with her head to one side, looking adoringly at her. Luke appreciated the way Jess had matched the lyrics to the dog’s actions, particularly when the dog rolled over as if her knees had gone weak, then put her paws on her nose as if shushing her words.

As the chorus began, Jess knelt in front of the dog, who sat up and then played pat-a-cake with her paws against Jess’s palms, in a perfect rhythm to the song.

At the end, Baloo put her paws on Jess’s shoulders and licked her nose. Jess hugged the dog. ‘Good girl. You were brilliant.’ She fed the dog a treat, and Baloo wagged her tail happily.