Page 10 of Catch Me (Townsend Legacy #4)
“I’m not … It’s not like …” I sputter but then clamp my lips shut when he levels a look my way.
“I’m not doing it,” he says as if answering a question I never asked.
“Why not?”
His eyes meet mine and the plate in my hands wobbles slightly. I place it on the table.
“If your manager thinks it’ll help your career, then it’s probably a good idea.”
“I have my eyes on someone else, and I want to make it incredibly clear to her where I stand. And I’ve already told him I’m not doing this.”
My mouth opens and closes a couple of times. The question is on the tip of my tongue, but fear traps it there.
Andreas nods at my uneaten food. “You should eat.”
I take a bite of the turkey sandwich. My stomach growls from the first morsel of food it’s had all day. I skipped breakfast this morning, opting to log in an hour with Style Box before driving to the set.
“Is the role living up to your expectations?” I ask after a few minutes of silence.
He wipes his mouth before sitting back in his chair with a smile on his face. “Better, to be honest.”
“How so?” I take a bite of my sandwich and then nearly drop it when I catch him staring at my mouth.
“A new obsession I wasn’t expecting came with this role.”
I cock my head to the side in confusion.
Andreas shakes his head. “Every role I’ve had, I’ve taken seriously,” he starts. “Worked with an acting coach, showed up early, left late, and most importantly gave my all to the part. With each character I’ve learned something.
“About life, about myself, relationships.” He draws out the last part, his eyes lingering on me.
“Every now and again during a scene, I lose myself in the character. Almost like I’m watching myself from the outside. It’s only happened once or twice with other roles.”
I know what it’s like to feel like you’re watching yourself from the outside. Only my experiences with it aren’t as enjoyable as Andreas’ experiences.
Panic attacks are hell on Earth.
“You’ve experienced that on the set of Late Nights? As Shawn?” I ask, referring to his character’s name.
Surprisingly, he shakes his head. “Not quite, but close,” he answers. “It’s coming.” He looks at me and smiles, and my heart nearly seizes. “Michael wrote a hell of a script. I can’t wait to see it once it’s all put together.”
The humility in his voice endears me to him even more. As the lead actor in the film, most eyes will be on him, but he’s giving Michael Keith, the writer and director, his credit.
“This movie is going to be huge,” I say without thinking. I don’t need to see the finished product to know the outcome. The passion in Andreas’ eyes says it all.
“How do you know?”
“I’ve seen that look before,” I blurt out. “In design school, one night I was invited to a Broadway performance. We got to meet some of the actors and costume designers before the show. They all had that look in their eye, especially when they spoke about the play.”
I meet Andreas’ stare. “Two of the actors went on to win Tony’s that year, and the play won best musical.”
“Passion,” he says, his voice taking on a wistful note. “Guess you could say I have a passion for exploring the range of emotion that comes from storytelling. I never want to explore the same story over and over again.
“The goal is to test my range and push it to its limits. I think it stems from my love of reading. So many character stories piqued my interest and I want to play them all.”
There’s an evident fervor in his voice.
“A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies …” I say.
“R.R. Martin.” He smiles and then nods to a stack of books on the counter that I hadn’t noticed before.
I move to the counter and inspect the books. On top is A Dance with Dragons by R.R. Martin, followed by The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison, The Vanishing Half by Brit Bennett, The Great Gatsby, and a few romance novels.
“This is quite a range,” I say, thumbing through the stack of books.
“My mother’s a librarian. I spent half of my childhood inside of the walls of a library. Reading became second nature.
“I like to keep some of my favorites and some new-to-me books in my trailer whenever I’m filming.”
The closeness of his voice startles me. I spin around to find him standing only a few inches away from me.
“I loved going to the library even as a teenager,” I confess. “It was one of the free moments I had to sneak away and explore the magazine section.” I laugh, thinking of the memory.
“Let me guess, Playboy ?” He laughs when I playfully swat his arm.
“No, you perve. Vogue , GQ, Essence, and Jet and magazines were my favorites. Our local library kept a few vintage covers. When one of the librarians found out what I was doing, she started holding off on putting the magazine out so that I could look through them first.”
I could spend hours thumbing through the pages, assessing the looks the stylists put together. I would read about what was in during a certain season or why a designer chose the designs they picked for a spread or a certain look.
“My aunt was a seamstress in New York, and when she visited we would talk about the latest fashion trends. She’d take me to the library so we could look through the magazines together. I?—”
I cut myself off from talking about how I started collecting, especially vintage Jet and Essence magazines, soon after my aunt died.
“You, what?” Andreas asks.
The memory of my mother’s hands snatching my most treasured magazine out of my hand and ripping it up in my face, comes hurtling back to my mind.
“I …” I push a few strands of my hair behind my ear. “Nothing. It was a long time ago. I can’t really remember.”
“Ivy.”
The softness in his voice is what makes the water already gathering in my eyes threaten to spill over. But there’s a knock.
“Andreas, we’re ready for you in five,” a male voice calls through the door.
Andreas curses. His hands are on my arms, turning me to face him. “I have to go.”
“I heard.” I don’t bother saying that I should go, too.
He doesn’t release the hold he has on my arms. Nor do I want him to. He’s silent for a beat before his gaze drops down to my lips. A stirring in my belly happens, and the urge to know what his lips feel like on mine overcomes me.
“What are your plans this weekend?”
The question surprises me so much that it takes a few seconds to process it.
“This weekend?” I take a second to clear my head. “Saturday mornings I walk the Hollywood Hills with Mya followed by brunch. Then I’ll probably work my part-time job. Sundays …” I shrug.
“Don’t tell me you work more on Sundays.” His voice deepens as if he’s giving me an order.
“Not lately,” I confess. Since I’ve started working full-time, I try my best to allow myself some downtime.
He nods, satisfied. Andreas’ eyes drop to my lips again. He opens his mouth to speak but there’s another knock on the door, harder this time.
“Two minutes,” the man shouts through the door.
“Coming!” Andreas’ voice fills with frustration. When he turns his gaze on me, his eyes are intense, almost vibrating. “I want to kiss you right now, but I don’t have enough time to savor it the way I want. And I refuse to have our first kiss rushed.”
He runs the tip of his thumb along my bottom lip, causing me to shiver. Warm anticipation fills my body.
“Don’t work too hard today,” he tells me, leaning in and kissing my forehead.
My eyelids fall closed, and a slow breath releases from my lungs. Andreas squeezes my arms before releasing me.
“I’ll see you soon,” he says like he means it. As if he’s anticipating the next moment he’s in my presence.
I watch him walk away. Before he exits, he pauses and looks back at me, a remorseful expression on his face. There’s a look akin to longing in his gaze. I know it because it’s the same emotion coursing through my body.
Only once the door closes behind Andreas does the temperature in the trailer cool off by at least five degrees. I have to shake myself out of my stupor, remembering that I’m in his trailer, and not back in the closet, doing one of the million tasks that I need to complete for the day.
Though the rest of the day flies by in a blur, my body refuses to shake off the tingling sensation left behind by Andreas’ lips on my skin.