Star Struck (32 page)

“Shook me up a little, but that’s all.” Actually, Lexie seemed more disturbed by the event than Heather did.

“I’ll get on the phone and see if I can get us a flight out of here tonight.” Lexie sat down at the suite’s desk and opened up her laptop. “We can forget the plays—they’ll understand; stars cancel last minute all the time—and just get home.”

Here it was—the perfect opportunity to get out of seeing Seth. But for some reason, when she opened her mouth to answer, what came out was, “No.”

“No?”

“No, I want to stay.” The thing was, Dean’s appearance had showed her something fascinating about herself—she was strong. Stronger than she’d ever realized. “I’m fine. I’m more than fine. I feel great.”

“Do you really want to have to deal with all this
and
Seth?” Lexie swiveled and leaned on the back of the desk chair. “You don’t have to put up a brave front. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have signed you up for this. Not when I knew he’d be here. It was a bad, bad idea on my part and I—”

“Yeah, I think I do.” Heather interrupted. “Want to deal with this and Seth, I mean. It’s not going to be easy, but I can see him. He didn’t break me. Hell, if Dean didn’t break me, I don’t think anyone could.”

Lexie paused. Then with dramatic flair, she shut her laptop. “Damn straight!”

“It’s settled then. We’re staying.” Heather couldn’t stop smiling as she curled up on the couch to eat her Cheetos and drink her Diet Coke. She was proud of her decision. It wasn’t often that she felt empowered.

And working with Seth would be fine. He would be absorbed with his building and carpentry anyway. She knew him well enough to know he’d respect however she wanted things to be between them. She wouldn’t have to see him or talk to him if she didn’t want to.

And, hell, maybe she even wanted to.

Chapter Twenty-One

Check-in at the 24-Hour Plays went a lot smoother than it had in L.A. since Heather had Lexie to help her fill out her forms. Which was almost a bad thing. Heather was anxious and without anything to keep her occupied, her anxiety increased.

She sat on the lobby bench next to Lex, her foot swinging as she looked over her assistant’s shoulder. “Put eight there. This is the eighth time I’ve done the plays.”

“Yep.” Lexie filled in the blank with the appropriate number.

“And list that I was the spokesperson last time. You can put that right there.”

Lexie looked up and glared. “Do you want to fill this out yourself?”

“No, that’s your job.”

Turning so it was harder for Heather to see what she was writing, Lexie resumed her task. “Then go smoke a cigarette or something.”

“I don’t smoke.”

“Maybe you need to start because you’re bugging the shit out of me.”

“Fine.” Heather crossed her arms and put on her best pout. No one saw it, though. Lexie was buried in the forms and no one else in the lobby was paying her any attention.

For the fiftieth time that evening, Heather scanned the small crowd. The Urban Arts volunteers who were running the check-in all wore black T-shirts in order to be easily distinguishable. Heather recognized a fair number of the actors and directors. But there was one face she kept expecting that still hadn’t appeared. What time was the crew supposed to arrive? Weren’t they there before the actors? Where in the hell was he?

Without looking up, Lexie said, “You’re looking for him.”

“No, I’m not!” Of course, that was exactly what she was doing, and her quick answer proved it. She twirled a piece of hair around her finger and attempted a recovery. “Looking for who?”

Her assistant sighed. “If you want to see him, you should just go find him.”

“I don’t want to see anyone.” There was no way in hell she was searching him out.

But she also couldn’t sit anymore. It was driving her insane. Across the lobby was a familiar face. “I changed my mind. Because the person I was looking for is right over there.” She stood and pointed toward the actor she knew. “And I’m going to go see him right now.”

“Fine. Good riddance.”

Heather rolled her eyes as she traipsed away. Was it only a few short hours ago that they’d been bonding? Now she wanted to smack Lexie. She was supposed to be her support system. Her help.

God, she needed help.

Where was Seth? Had he decided not to show? And why did she care?

The actor she knew was flipping through screens on his smartphone and didn’t notice her approach.

“Howdy, stranger,” she said, nudging him with her shoulder.

Micah Preston looked up at her with his famous Hollywood grin. “Hey, Heather.” He put his phone in his pocket and gave her an obligatory hug.

It felt strange hugging her former costar. Awkward. Not because they weren’t friendly with each other, but because they had, on occasion, been extra friendly. They’d known each other for quite a while before they’d worked together on the Colorado movie. They’d slept together a handful of times over the course of their acquaintance. But after he turned down her last hook-up proposal, things between them got weird. Hence the awkward.

An uncomfortable silence spread between them, their grins pasted on their faces. “You look good,” Heather said finally.

Micah shifted. “Um, thanks.”

“Don’t freak out. I’m not hitting on you.” She looked him over trying to remember what it was she’d seen in him. Convenience. That was it. He didn’t attract her now at all. He wasn’t…Seth. “You aren’t my type anyway.”

“Not your type?” Micah’s eyes widened. “How can you say that after, you know?”

Heather laughed. “So which is it? Do you want me hitting on you or not?”

“Not.” He smiled guiltily. “But you could still acknowledge all my awesomeness.”

“What the heck was I thinking? Of course. You are totally overflowing with awesomeness.”

“Now that’s more like it.”

She smiled. Had it really only been three months since she’d last seen Micah? It felt like years separated her from the person she’d been then. The awkwardness between them wasn’t just that they’d seen each other naked. It was her. She was different. Was she forever tattooed by Seth now? Completely unable to relate to the life she’d had before him?

“But now I’m all curious,” Micah said, interrupting her reverie. “Am I really not your type?”

“Yeah, you’re really not. But it isn’t you.” She chuckled over her
it’s not you, it’s me
innuendo. “I guess I’m more aware now of what I need than I used to be.”

“Well, good for you.” He raised a brow. “Wait, didn’t I hear you were seeing someone?” He snapped as he tried to remember. “A producer or something?”

“A Production Designer.” God, she’d expected questions from the press, but not her fellow actors. She had to get a story together. A story that would likely require Seth’s input.

For now, she diverted the attention off her. “You’re with that camera girl, right?” Micah had been a perma-bachelor until recently when he’d fallen for the camera assistant on the movie they’d done together.

He beamed at the mention of his girlfriend. “Maddie. Yeah. She’s here, actually.” His eyes swept the lobby. “There,” he nodded when he’d spotted Maddie. “She’s one of the directors.”

“That’s your girlfriend? Oh fuck, she’s my director.” Heather hadn’t connected the name when she’d gotten her assignment. “That means it doesn’t matter that I’m not hitting on you—if I don’t stop talking to you right now I seriously fear for what she’s going to make me do on stage.”

Micah rolled his eyes. “Whatever.” Then he thought better of it. “I mean, Maddie will probably make you do something insane, but you can handle it.”

Yeah, she probably could. She could handle a lot more than she used to think she could. Maybe that was why she’d been looking for Seth—because seeing him would be the ultimate test to her strength. She wanted to know if she could handle that.

The lights flashed in the lobby, indicating it was time for everyone to convene on the stage for introductions. Heather waved goodbye to Lexie, then followed Micah and the rest of the crowd inside, noting that there was still no sign of Seth.

Heather’s intro was first. She did her regular spiel and then showed her prop. She had brought her fur-lined handcuffs from L.A., intending to use them since she hadn’t gotten to last time. Then at the last minute, she’d stopped in the hotel gift shop and bought a hat with the Statue of Liberty on it. The handcuffs stayed in her purse.

The rest of the intro session dragged on. Usually, this was Heather’s favorite part of the plays process, but she couldn’t seem to stay focused. Was he backstage working already? Was he avoiding her? Had he decided not to do the plays after all? Was it because of her?

Finally, the meeting was over and everyone was dismissed for the night. Heather headed out to the lobby to look for Lexie. When she didn’t find her, Heather pulled out her phone and called her.

“We’re done. You can come get me.” Heather wondered if her voice sounded as heavy as it felt.

“Oh, okay.” Lexie sounded surprised. “Um, so, did you see him?”

“No,” Heather snapped. She didn’t want to talk about it. She was having a hell of a time figuring out why she felt disappointed about Seth’s absence. She certainly didn’t need to try to analyze it over the phone.

“Okay.” Lexie’s voice seemed puzzled. “Where are you anyway?”

“At the theater. Where else would I be?” Heather’s head was starting to pound. She needed to get back to the hotel where she could commence her nightly routine of curling up in a ball and crying.

“Are you still on the stage?”

“No. Jesus, Lexie, is this twenty questions? Just come and get me already.”

“Go back to the stage. I’ll meet you there. On the stage. In, um, soon.”

Heather hung up and let out a sound of frustration as she stuffed her phone in her purse. She wasn’t in the mood for cryptic Lexie. She also wasn’t in the mood for waiting in the lobby where the floor to ceiling windows had attracted a small crowd of fans eager to see which star would walk out next.

Waiting on the stage was a good idea.

Heather walked down the back hallway to the stage door. She stepped into the now empty theater and headed toward the skirt of the stage.

Except the theater wasn’t empty after all. The circle of chairs that had been set up for the cast introductions remained.

And sitting in one of the chairs was Seth.

Her heart dropped into her stomach and her hands got sweaty. Maybe she wasn’t strong enough to see him.

But when he stood from his chair and pinned his eyes on her, a wave of euphoria washed over her, calling goose bumps to the surface of her skin. Then she knew she could handle seeing him. She could handle it just fine.

Taking a deep breath, he spoke. “My name is Seth Rafferty.”

Heather narrowed her eyes. “What are you doing?”

“My plane was late getting in so I missed introductions. So I thought I’d do mine now.”

She got it immediately, that he’d planned this out—for her. That Lexie had set her up to meet him. But she played along. “Intros are for the actors, not the crew.”

He smiled slightly and she melted. God, she’d missed his face.

“For one night only,” he said, “it’s for the crew too. Well, for one crewmember. And just for you. Now stop interrupting. Where was I? See, this is why I’m not an actor.”

She put her hand over her mouth to suppress a giggle and took a step closer.

“Oh yes. I was at the beginning. My name is Seth Patrick Rafferty.” He met her eyes. “And I’m a Production Designer. A good one, even. I worked hard to become one. Came out of poverty, worked every job in between to get to where I am. I’m what you call a success story.”

She nodded, encouraging him to go on.

“Because I’ve had so much success, I wanted to give back. I offered to do the 24-Hour plays, design and construct furniture so I could give arts back to the kids who need it. It meant I’d be working carpentry again, but hey, those are my roots. I could deal with that. I’m proud of my roots.”

He clapped his hands together and she could tell he was nervous. It was sort of impressive he’d made it so far through his monologue, being a crewmember and all.

“Urban Arts welcomed the proposal,” he continued. “They were crazy about it, in fact. Everyone was.” He narrowed his eyes. “Except this one person. She hated the idea. Loathed it. Despised—”

“She thought it was a shit idea.”

“You get the picture then.” He caught her eye again and she shivered. “Funny thing was, this woman, this sassy little diva—it really bothered me that she hated my idea.”

She’d wondered about that before, wondered why he’d been caught up with her in the first place. “She was just a silly movie star. Why did you care?”

“Do people usually interrupt during the introductions?”

“No, but—”

“Then shush. Please.” He waited until Heather closed her mouth to continue. “In answer to your question, there was something about her that made me care. Not just about whether she liked the construction idea, but about what she thought of me. Problem was she didn’t like me. At all. I think she might have hated me more than she hated my carpentry plan.”