Only for You (29 page)

“I wasn’t spouting off. Jessie’s a surfer too,” Chance said, shrugging insouciantly.

They talked with the nice couple for several minutes, Gia becoming more relaxed when they seemed to accept her Jessie character.

“I should turn you over my knee for that,” Seth muttered when they returned to the truck and started down the deserted Main Street. She could tell by the slight quirk of his lips he was kidding.

“Twice in twenty-four hours? Is that going to be customary?”

“I had no idea you really surfed. I just happened to have some outfits in my costume collection for a surfer boy that I thought would work for your size. I was wondering how you were going to work your way around Chance’s questions.”

She chuckled, enjoying putting one over on him. “I learned to surf when I lived with my mom and stepdad.”

“That’s what I get for underestimating you.”

“Exactly. So . . . what’s the story with Chance and Sherona? They seem crazy about each other. He’s a nature photographer and has to travel a lot for his job, but I got the impression that Sherona’s roots run deep in Vulture’s Canyon.”

“They do. Chance is a wanderer by nature and feels comfortable in every corner of the globe. Sherona is the heart of this community. For a while, it looked like their differences were going to keep them apart, no matter how crazy they were about each other.”

Her skin prickled with awareness. “What happened?” she asked intently.

“They figured it out. Sherona travels with Chance for half the year, while that other woman in the diner—Olive Fanatoon—looks after the diner for her. Chance takes a few necessary solo trips, but otherwise, he’s here with Sherona the rest of the time. They decided what they had together was worth some compromises and sacrifices.”

Gia cleared her throat in the uncomfortable silence that followed. Maybe it only seemed charged to her. She couldn’t be sure if Seth had noticed the potential parallels between Chance and Sherona’s vital differences and theirs.

“Why do you have that look on your face?” Seth asked her twenty minutes later when he parked at a grocery store in the small town of Prairie Lakes.

“I was just thinking that at first, being Jessie made me feel freer. No one recognized me. I blended into the woodwork, and it was nice,” Gia reflected as she took off her seat belt. She glanced at Seth and gave him a small, wistful smile. “Now . . . well, I can’t even touch you while other people are around.”

“And you being Jessie suddenly feels like a trap. Yeah,” Seth agreed with his typical laconic preciseness. He seemed to hesitate.

“Seth?” she prompted.

“It’d be like that for us in L.A. too. You realize that, don’t you? It’d be for different reasons, and you wouldn’t be in disguise, but we’d always have to be careful of showing too many displays of affection. We’d always be in front of the camera’s eye.”

Gia inhaled slowly, trying to ease the sudden tightness in her chest.
She
could bear that, even if she didn’t love it. Seth was a privacy hound though. She realized she cared about him too much to force him into the spotlight.

“Do we have to talk about it right now? Can’t we just enjoy this beautiful day?” she hoped.

She felt his stare on her cheek as she averted her gaze.

“Yeah. Let’s do that,” he said.

*   *   *

While they were in the grocery store, Seth picked up a celebrity gossip magazine as they stood in the checkout line, reading the pages with seeming bored idleness.

“What did that magazine say?” Gia asked when they returned to the SUV and were driving back to the house. “I saw my picture on the front, but it looked like it was a small feature.”

“Yeah. You’re shrinking a bit in the tabloids because the press doesn’t have any new gossip or photos to feed to your hungry public. That’s just what we wanted to do. We cut off their supply by making you disappear. I spoke with Charles yesterday, and he and Madeline are pleased with the way the mania is dying down. Madeline certainly would like the eye of the world turned away just a bit while she finishes up on the last touches of her case.”

“And McClarin?” Gia asked tensely. “Is there any news of him or his camp’s maneuvers?”

“Just the usual hogwash about how you’re an unstable, hysterical, attention-seeking movie star.”

“Someone tried to leak a fake story that I was a drug addict a while ago. I’m sure it was someone related to McClarin,” Gia stated flatly. “So does Madeline, because the rumor started flying around just before jury selection. After jury selection, the jurors are told to stay away from all media outlets, so there was a higher chance of it reaching potential jurors and alternates.”

“Yeah. It was definitely a purposefully leaked story. But they had no proof of those rumors about you. The story died out.”

“A bit of a slow death for my comfort,” Gia mumbled.

“Yeah, I know,” Seth commiserated, reaching across the console and squeezing her thigh. “All we have to do is keep quiet and wait. Once you get on that stand, McClarin is screwed and he knows it.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” she said, rubbing his hand with hers.

“Anytime.”

After they’d stored all the food at the house, Seth retouched her makeup and they headed back out again. In Prairie Lakes, they parked and walked. It was another pleasantly cool, crisp, brilliant fall day. Prairie Lakes was a picturesque small town, especially with all the trees dressed out in brilliant autumn regalia. It was no Vulture’s Canyon, but it was far from bustling. Walking from the car down Main Street, they passed all of four people.

They stopped in a pharmacy on Main Street to pick up some supplies, including some battery candles Seth wanted for Daisy’s jack-o’-lantern. Gia nudged Seth with an elbow to the ribs when she spotted the old-fashioned soda fountain on the far wall.

“Would it be too un-Jessie-like if we went for a sundae?” she asked under her breath.

“Yeah,” Seth murmured. She nodded in understanding.

“But it would also be Uncle Seth–like to ignore Jessie’s cocky attitude. Jessie really needs to work on that. So we’re going,” he said without a break in his stony expression. He handed her a pack of razors. She barely hid her grin as she examined the package with undue fascination and followed him out of the aisle.

*   *   *

They ate lunch at the nostalgic diner, where they were the only patrons. Even on weekends, traffic downtown was probably slow, but on a weekday afternoon with school in session, Main Street seemed cast under a sleepy spell. Afterward, they ordered coffees to go and wandered through a nearby wooded park. Spotting a bench near a burbling spring, they sat down, inhaling the crisp fall air. She noticed Seth unobtrusively scanning the entire area for possible observers. When he relaxed his militant tension ever so slightly and took a sip of his coffee, Gia assumed that he saw no potential threats to their privacy.

“Did you like being in military intelligence?” she asked him quietly.

“I would have liked it better if my skill for disguise and makeup was used one hundred percent of the time. Whenever the opportunity came up, I thrived on the challenge. That’s how I knew for a fact I wanted to work in special effects makeup full-time when I left the Army. But I do miss the . . .
substance
of the disguises I did while I was in the military.”

“Substance?”

“Yeah. Knowing that my makeups really meant something important—an individual’s safety, a successful mission, people’s lives.”

“Is that why you still do consulting work for people like Charles and Madeline when you get the chance?”

He nodded.

“Do you really think of film work as substanceless?” she asked hesitantly after a moment.

His gaze flickered over her. “I think it has substance. Entertainment is important. Creative expression is important. I’m just glad I had the opportunity to use my art to help people as well.”

Gia nodded. She understood what he was saying, but it unsettled her for some reason. What had
she
ever done to directly help people? She did some charity work but always felt on the fringes, distanced from the possibility of making a concrete, measurable difference in someone’s life.

“What you do is important, Gia,” Seth said forcefully under his breath. She blinked, realizing he’d noticed her bereft expression. “You shouldn’t listen to half the things I say about Hollywood. I’m old and I’m cynical.”

“You’re not
old
,” she chided.

“I see you don’t correct me about my cynicism though,” he added wryly, taking a sip of his coffee. “The truth is, someone like you influences tens of thousands of people every day. Maybe in subtle ways, maybe in not-so-subtle ways. Certainly in ways you’re likely never going to know about firsthand. I think movie stars have a huge potential for making a difference.”

“Really?” she asked, doubtful not for her own part, but as to whether or not
he
truly believed it.

He nodded soberly. “Look at the fact that you want to play Eleanor Roosevelt, for instance. Given your status with young people, you’ll expose a generation of females to an important, powerful woman. You’ll make someone who formerly seemed like a boring history lesson approachable and interesting by mixing some of your magic with hers. You could have just listened to the naysayers and your agent and dismissed the role as not commercially viable, but you didn’t.”

She made a face. “I didn’t insist on the part because I wanted to make a difference in young women’s lives though,” she admitted with a sinking feeling.

“Why did you then?”

Gia thought for a moment. “Because her story inspired me.”

He shrugged and leaned back on the bench. “Exactly. And your inspiration in combination with your talent will inspire others.”

“Do you
really
think that?”

“I do,” he replied simply.

“But you look down on actresses and actors so much,” she said.

“Not all of them. There are a few I respect.” She studied his stoic profile anxiously. He must have noticed because he turned and met her stare. “One actress in particular. More and more so every day.”

Even though he couldn’t touch her while they were out in public and the bright light of day, his words and small smile felt like the equivalent of a caress.

Later, they walked down Main Street and wandered into a nearly empty antique store. Gia found herself resenting the disguise more and more as they perused the contents of the aisles. It was so nice to be out with him in public, idling away the afternoon. She very much wanted to touch him, and the prohibition not to do so only seemed to sharpen her desire. When they entered a particularly dark, dusty corner aisle of the store, she realized Seth must have felt the same way. He suddenly halted her by grabbing her hand. Then he was leaning over her and brushing his lips against hers. He was careful not to smudge her lip makeup, but he wasn’t so subtle with his touch. He didn’t bother caressing her torso, knowing the rigid shaper was beneath her shirt. Instead, he cupped her ass possessively and gave it a firm rub.

“I didn’t know it was going to be so hard not to touch you in public,” he said next to her lips.

“Me either,” she whispered, touching his hard abdomen greedily. She cupped his rib cage, a thrill going through her, and went up on her toes to nuzzle his chin with her nose. An aisle away, they heard a woman making a comment about an antique baby carriage and a man replying. Gia guiltily backed away from Seth, her heart racing from his touch and nearness. Her longing to touch him openly felt even sharper than before.

“Look what’s at the theater,” Seth said under his breath when they returned to the sleepy, sunny street.

She blinked in surprise when she read the marquis. “They must not get many first runs in Prairie Lakes. It’s been out for over a year.” She gave Seth a small smile. The film was
Shadow Mistress
, the first movie she’d done following the success of her Hollywood debut. Unlike
Glory Girl,
Shadow Mistress
was a sexy, dark, very adult thriller. It had immediately smashed the stereotype of her created by her role in her debut young adult film. She’d been lucky that the thriller had been a success. Instead of alienating her youthful following, it had amplified it, plus added an older generation to her fan base.

“Do you want to go? There’s a three thirty matinee.” Seth checked his watch. “We’ll only miss the first few minutes.”

She did a surprised double take at his suggestion.
“Really?”

He looked completely serious. “Yeah. We don’t have anything better to do until we’re due at Rill and Katie’s at six.” He gave her a dry glance. “And I doubt there’s another theater in town.”

She laughed dubiously and shrugged. “Okay, if you really want to.” His suggestion and the circumstances were unexpected. She wasn’t sure how she felt about sitting side by side with Seth—of all people—and watching herself on the big screen.

The theater was one of those old, large, ornate structures that were disappearing too fast from American cities in the modern age. The movie had already started by the time they bought their tickets and entered.

“We can have our pick of seats,” Seth muttered under his breath as they assessed the near-empty theater. There was a couple seated several rows back from the front and another couple in the middle-right.

“There goes my ego,” Gia said humorously. “I’m really roping them in around here.”

“Seriously? The whole town has probably seen this movie three times over by now. They can likely recite your lines better than you,” Seth said dryly. “Can we sit in the back?”

“Anywhere,” Gia agreed.

He waved her ahead and followed her into the very back row. They took their seats.

“This is weird,” she whispered once they sat and she trained her gaze on the screen. The scene depicted the tense discovery of a murder, and Gia was in it.

“Why?” Seth asked. “Because you’re watching one of your movies while you’re disguised as someone else?”

“No,” she fumbled. “Well, not
just
because of that. Because I’m watching it with you.” She felt him look at her in the darkness and sensed his question. “It’s . . .
awkward
.”