Only for You (22 page)

“Most of those descriptors fit you, as well,” she said.

“I suppose you’re going to leave me to stew about which ones apply and which ones don’t?”

Her smile was an innocent tease. “Can we go down to the diner later, so we can thank her in person?”

“It would require you getting into makeup,” he said with a significant glance. “And putting on the act.”

A shadow crossed her luminous face. She stared at the toast in her hand.

“You really hate it, don’t you? My acting, I mean,” she said slowly, examining the toast in her fingers like she found the vision fascinating.

“I only meant that if you want to make a trip into town, you have to be in full disguise. I thought you might not want to, once you realized all the effort involved for a casual visit to the Legion Diner,” he explained.

“No. I realize what you meant. Still,” she murmured, “there’s something about me acting that . . . rubs you the wrong way. Not just in a general sense. On some personal level.”

He absorbed what she said while he put away the margarine and opened one of the jars of Sherona’s preserves. He really didn’t want to get into this with her. Not now.

“You’re good at it,” he said shortly, opening a drawer to retrieve a knife. “I’ve never told you. You’ll end up being the best of your generation. Maybe of several generations.”

Neither of them spoke as he handed her the knife and nodded at the opened jar of preserves. She took the knife, but didn’t otherwise move.

“Coming from most people, that would be an incredible compliment. Somehow, when you say it, it sounds a little like an insult.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he stated flatly.

Her gaze narrowed on him. “What
do
you mean, exactly, Seth?” she prodded when he glanced away, wariness prickling through him.

“I know it’s your art form,” he said gruffly. How had they gotten here? He suddenly wished they were talking about anything but this.

“But?”
she pushed.

He shook his head, exasperated she wouldn’t let the topic go.

“Seth? I want to know what you think.”

“It’s just . . . how does a person ever know what’s real and what’s not?”

Regret swept through him as his words seemed to echo around the sunny, still kitchen, and he took in Gia’s frozen expression.

“A person,” she repeated in a hollow tone. “By person, you mean
you
? How do
you
know when
I’m
ever being real or not?”

He shrugged irritably.
No
, that wasn’t what he meant. He made a sound of frustration, struggling to find the right words. “That night . . . when I opened that door and saw you standing there, I thought you were the freshest, least contrived, most unexpected person I’d ever met in my life.” He raked his hand through his hair, feeling prickly under Gia’s stunned stare. “When I found out you were an actress, it was like . . . discovering something that didn’t
fit
with everything else.”

“What?” she asked, clearly confused.

“I don’t know how to explain it.”
I don’t really
want
to explain it, even to myself.
He knew he had no choice, however, when she continued to stare at him, silently entreating him to clarify. “It was like . . . finding out the most natural thing in the world wasn’t what you thought it was, like being blown away by the immensity of the Grand Canyon or stunned by the beauty of a night sky, and then realizing it’s a movie set.”

“Fooled,” she said sharply, putting down the knife on the granite countertop with a clanging sound. “You were fooled by me. I wasn’t that natural, unaffected woman you thought I was. I was really a fake.”

“
No
, Gia,” he grated out, halting her by grasping her upper arm when she started to turn away. Jesus, how had this moment plummeted from heaven to hell so damn fast? He saw her proud, hurt expression and experienced a sinking sensation. “I mean yes, to be honest. That’s what I thought
then
.” He tightened his hold slightly when she started to go. “I don’t now,” he added grimly. “I was
wrong.
You really are uncontrived and fresh. I don’t know how this business hasn’t spoiled you, but it hasn’t.”

“Still, there’s a chance it still will. Isn’t that what you think?” she asked in a low, vibrating voice. “Isn’t that why I’m a risk? And even though you say I’m uncontrived, you can’t trust
entirely
that I’m not faking. Right?”

He winced. He didn’t want to tell her he
did
find it damn unsettling, the way she could alter right before his eyes into Jessie, for instance, or the way she could so brilliantly transform on the screen until the woman he thought he’d known disappeared. Maybe that had been part of his wild need to have her while they’d been on the road together. He’d been desperate to see the woman beneath the façade, to touch her, to possess her, to assure himself of her existence.

He exhaled in temporary defeat at the realization.

“I’m sorry,” he said, releasing her arm. “You said you wanted to know, so I was trying my best to tell you. I guess I didn’t say it right. I didn’t mean to insult you.” He hesitated. “It’s hard sometimes, figuring out what’s real when you do the work we do.”

He walked out of the kitchen, knowing he’d ruined the brilliant morning with her by being honest about his doubts. He regretted it like hell, but was clueless as to how to make it right.

Gia told herself to stop being so hyperaware of Seth’s whereabouts and actions in the house that morning and a better part of the afternoon, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself. After he’d walked out of the kitchen earlier, she’d sat down at the kitchen table, determined to eat her breakfast and sip her coffee as if everything was normal and that charged, bewildering, hurtful exchange hadn’t taken place. Or that it didn’t matter.

Even though it
did.

At some point, she’d heard him moving in the hallway and then a door opening. She’d paused in the act of smothering her toast in Sherona’s delicious strawberry preserves, her ears keyed in for any hint of noise. Sure enough, she’d made out the distant rumble of rapid footsteps. He’d mentioned a lower level area with a workout facility. Maybe that’s where he’d gone.

After she’d cleaned up her breakfast, she added a log to the fire Seth had started that morning and found her tablet. She managed to lose herself for ten-minute stretches in the Eleanor Roosevelt biography she was reading for the third time, but that was the extent of how long she could focus. A producer had approached her about the possibility of playing a young Eleanor in a movie based on the same book. She was very interested in both the book and the possibility of doing a movie version, so her difficulty in concentrating was unusual and annoying.

She would intermittently look up when she heard a slight sound of Seth moving in the distance, wondering what he was doing, then becoming irritated with herself for caring one way or another. Too many times, his words would rise in her consciousness, batting aside her focus on the book.

“It was like . . . finding out the most natural thing in the world wasn’t what you thought it was, like being blown away by the immensity of the Grand Canyon or stunned by the beauty of a night sky, and then realizing it’s a movie set.”

What an awful thing to say, she thought, scowling as she stared blindly out the windows onto a glistening autumn day.

“It wasn’t horrible. It
was
honest,” she mumbled irritably to herself. Hadn’t she begged him to explain his reservations about her career, about her? There was little doubt he hadn’t relished telling her, or that he was bewildered by his own feelings on the matter.

Still . . . to compare her to an artfully contrived movie set, a skillful facsimile of the real thing.
That
stung.

She exhaled her irritation with effort. He’d also told her he didn’t feel that way anymore. He’d said he was wrong for judging her as a fake. But he was also still struggling with his thoughts and feelings when it came to her.

She couldn’t alter that. He’d have to deal with it on his own.
She
had nothing to prove.

When she heard his solid step on the stairs a while later, she focused on her book with determination. He didn’t come into the living room though. Tracing his movements through the comfortable, but small home, she suspected he was in the shower. Taking her opportunity, she furtively entered the bedroom they shared. Sure enough, the door to the bathroom was shut and the shower was running.

She grabbed some workout clothes and her tennis shoes. Now that Seth was finished in the facility, she was eager to get out some of her frothing feelings with a good workout.

John and Jennifer’s workout facility was much larger and more sophisticated than she’d anticipated. She discovered the lower level also featured a den, a bathroom and a wet bar. Because John was blind, the treadmills and cardio machines in the exercise room all possessed video and tactile monitors, and audio prompts as well. Spurned on by her volatile mood and a smooth-voiced female occasionally goading her to move faster, Gia got in a good sweaty hour-and-twenty-minute workout.

When she entered the bedroom later, she saw no sign of Seth. By the time she’d showered and dried her hair, her thoughts and emotions were a little calmer. It wasn’t that she thought Seth’s attitude toward her was fair. It wasn’t. She wasn’t going to apologize to him for being an actress and loving her job.

But her reality didn’t negate his. He probably
had
seen a lot of things she hadn’t, despite the fact that she hated when he mentioned her youth and inexperience. He’d never struck her as intolerant or bitter. If he had strong opinions, he’d likely come by them honestly.

Yet, that didn’t make them right.

She dressed in the jeans and button-down shirt she’d had on before her workout and stepped out of the bathroom. Seth had raised the fabric blinds. Afternoon sunlight turned the bedroom into a cozy, golden haven. He’d also made the bed. For a few seconds, she just stared at the neat bedding, imagining their unrestrained, wild . . . and, yes, soulful lovemaking last night and this morning.

It had been a mistake to expose herself. Hadn’t it?

Her heart seemed to swell painfully.

No. She might not have liked what he’d said this morning, but being with Seth didn’t
feel
wrong. This whole conflict between them
did
though.

She grabbed the remote control and curled up against the pillows, her knees drawn up, her back to the door. She turned on the television and flipped through the channels, desperate to distract herself.

A quick flash of her own pale, averted face on the television screen stilled her impatient punching on the remote. The curvy, brunette hostess of
Hot Topics
continued to talk as clips of Gia avoiding cameras played in the background.

“Despite being one of the most sought-after faces in both celebrity and legal circles these days, Gia Harris seems to have dropped off the radar. An inside source reveals that the popular star of
Fatal Honor
and
Glory Girl
has insisted that shooting on her new blockbuster film
Interlude
be postponed due to heavy media coverage of the Sterling McClarin trial, where Harris will be a key witness against the defendant. It seems that the onetime film ingénue has officially moved up the ranks to diva status, given that she’s calling the shots with such Hollywood power players as director Joshua Cabot and the money men at United Studios,” the hostess finished with a knowing grin.

“Don’t pay any attention.”

Gia turned around, startled by Seth’s calm, gruff voice. He stood several feet inside the bedroom. He’d been stalking again. She hadn’t heard him come in, but he’d obviously just heard the incendiary bit on the cheesy entertainment-news show. She glanced over at him. He wore jeans and a simple gray T-shirt that showed off his muscular arms and skimmed his strong chest. He’d been even longer in the workout facility than she had. Had he grown even
more
carved, just from one rigorous workout? It seemed like it. His casual dress only emphasized how hard he was underneath, how essentially male.

How beautiful.

“At least they’re saying you’re off the radar,” he said quietly.

“And that I’m a power-hungry diva,” she added neutrally, turning her back to him and hitting the Off button on the remote. It figured, Seth had had to hear
that
piece of salacious gossip about her.

“You okay?” he asked.

She tossed the remote control device on the mattress.

“Are you asking because of what that twit just said on that show?” she asked.

“Not really, no. But I suppose it applies.”

She wasn’t looking at him, but she could tell by the distance of his deep voice, he’d stepped closer to the bed.

“Because that show and the millions of people who watch it share your opinion that movie stars are narcissistic, fame-starved idiots? Is that what you mean?” she asked, unable to keep the trace of bitterness from her tone.

“No,” he said. “But I can understand why you might think that, given what I said this morning.”

She rolled over on her opposite hip. The hint of regret in his deep voice made her curious.

“I know that ninety percent of that crap the entertainment news slings around is just that. Shit,” he said. “You don’t think I’m that shallow, do you? I was there when Madeline and Joshua told you about your scenes on
Interlude
being postponed, remember? I know how insulted you were that the decision was made without you. I know the last thing you wanted was to have the schedule thrown off because of your situation.”

“Not that what I thought made any difference,” she mumbled.

“Yeah. Well losing control of your life is another upset all together. Can I sit down?”

She glanced at him doubtfully when he pointed at the edge of the bed. After a pause, she nodded. He sat a foot or so away from where she lay on her side.

“About this morning,” he began.

“You were just being honest,” Gia replied resignedly, staring at the dark green duvet.

“No. I wasn’t.”

She glanced into his face, surprised by his stark reply. She tried to read his impassive expression, but the only thing she sensed was his somberness.

“I’ve told you I have a hang-up about actresses, and I confessed my doubts about relationships between two people both working in show business. It’s not only you I’ve expressed this attitude to. People I work with are aware of it. My niece, Joy—whom I consider my closest family—is aware of it. I tried to warn her to stay away from Everett Hughes.”

Gia bent her elbow and propped her head up on her hand. “Joy and Everett are both in the business. Joy is your partner in Hightower Special Effects, and Everett is arguably the most famous actor on the planet. Are you saying that their relationship is doomed to failure?”

“No. They’re disgustingly happy together.”

“So?” Gia asked slowly, confused as to why he’d brought up Joy and Everett.

“I wanted to be honest with you about my doubts. But in fact, I was only being half-honest, and maybe in the end, that’s the same as being dishonest.”

“I’m not following you, Seth.”

He exhaled. “Not even Joy knows my original reason for avoiding actresses in the dating arena. I’ve never told her.” He gave her a quick, fierce look. “I’ve never told anyone that I was married before.”

“What?”

“It lasted all of ten months. I got married when I was twenty-three years old. I was still twenty-three when I was divorced.”

A tingling sensation started down her spine as she stared at him in the taut silence that followed his revelation.

“And she was an actress?” Gia whispered, already knowing how he’d reply.

He nodded. “Not at the time, but she became one. Not just any actress. An actress you know. An actress everyone knows,” he added, his mouth slanting grimly.

“Who?” Gia asked warily. Did she really want to know? She sensed his hesitation. “I’ll take this to my grave, if that’s what you want, Seth. You’ve never even told Joy, and she’s like a sister to you.” A flicker of unease went through her. “You
do
trust me, don’t you?”

“Zoe Lindsay,” was his blunt reply.

The name seemed to echo and vibrate in Gia’s head.

Zoe Lindsay was in her mid-thirties, but already she’d reached legend status. She had starred in not only commercial blockbusters but also highly acclaimed independent films, and even on Broadway. She was drop-dead gorgeous—a true Hollywood siren—intelligent, savvy and highly respected by her peers. Gia’s heart began drumming loudly in her ears.

Seth’s eyebrows pinched together in puzzlement.

“What’s wrong, Gia?”

“She’s my idol,” Gia mumbled under her breath, stunned. She blinked, immediately regretting saying her thought out loud. Had Seth heard her? She saw his expression stiffen and feared he had. “I’m sorry. I’m just kind of . . . shocked,” she tried to explain her dazed reaction.

“Yeah. It’s kind of hard to think of the two of us together.”

She sat up slowly, studying his face. “No, it’s not that. It’s just . . .
unexpected
to suddenly pair you two together. You and Zoe Lindsay.”

He nodded. “For me too. Of course, she wasn’t Zoe Lindsay when we met. She was Lindsay Callahan, a waitress in a dive bar in Barstow, California, not far from the National Training Center at Fort Irwin where I was based for a while. She was a force to be reckoned with, even then.” He gave a mirthless bark of laughter and shook his head. “I never stood a chance.”

“She must have thought the same about you,” Gia said. She felt a little dizzy, considering it. Dizzy and
heartsore
, somehow. Funny, she’d always known Seth was older than her, more experienced, and just worldlier in general. But to think of her—Gia Harris—involved with the same man Zoe Lindsay had married? To learn that Seth and her career idol shared a past?

Well, it was jarring, bewildering, and just plain unsettling on so many levels.

“Why did the marriage end so soon?” Gia asked.

“We were young and stupid. We got married in Las Vegas one weekend while I was on leave after a crazy summer infatuation. It was destined not to work from the start. I wouldn’t have been able to last long myself in the heat of Zoe’s fame fever . . . under the camera lens always trained on her world.”

He gave her an uncomfortable glance.

“It was a mistake, Gia. Plain and simple. We
knew
I was going to ship out overseas within weeks, but we did it anyway.” He shook his head. Even though he was often so impassive, she sensed his feelings clearly at that moment. He was disgusted at the memory of his weakness. His vulnerability. Compassion swept through her, a clear, concise note that pierced her stunned confusion at his admission. She put her hand on his. He glanced into her face.