coffee table. “I forgot where we were, and that the damn press is always looking for ‘news’.”
“It’s OK, Jack. I’m just sorry if it causes you problems.”
Norah picked up the magazine. “At least it’s a good picture. It’s the price we pay,” she mused, “for choosing this career.”
“But y’all are still entitled to privacy! It’s common damn decency to let someone walk in the park or eat dinner in public without someone shovin’ a camera in their face.” Emma ran a hand through her hair and noticed Jack grinning at her. “What?” she wanted to know.
“Your accent. It thickens when you’re upset.”
“It always has,” said a deep voice from the doorway. Emma turned and gave a cry of delight.
“Chris!” She ran towards him and jumped. He caught her and swung her around before giving her loud kiss.
“You look good,” he told her as he set her back on her feet.
She took his hand. “Jack, this is Chris Roper, Broadway playboy and my best friend.”
“Jack.” Chris extended his other hand. “It’s great to finally meet you. I saw you in Heartbreak House last year. I admire your acting.”
“Thank you. Emma speaks of you often. I’m glad to meet you.”
Chris’s eyes landed on the magazine as Norah’s phone rang. His eyebrows shot up. “Well, well. Want to catch me up, Emma?”
Before she could respond, Norah cursed and threw her phone on the couch. “That was Thomas. There’s been a change of plans. We leave for Falmouth tomorrow.” She turned and stomped towards the kitchen.
Emma sighed. “Guess we’d better pack.”
Chapter 8
The brutal days bled into one another as everyone worked frantically. The weather had finally shifted from hot to chilled, and Thomas was pushing everyone hard. The scenes were difficult and demanding, and tempers were becoming short.
Emma was kept busy trying to keep up with Norah’s requests. The busier she was the more demanding and irritable she became.
“Damn it, Emma, I said I wanted chamomile tea! This is jasmine.” Norah shoved the cup aside.
“We’re out of chamomile. I sent Chris into town for more.”
“Maybe he won’t fuck up.” Norah bared her teeth as she stormed around the cottage. “I didn’t think making a cup of tea would be such a chore for you.”
Emma’s patience snapped. “Look, I know you’re stressed and tired. I’m sorry for that, and I’m sorry we’re out of your tea. Maybe if you wouldn’t guzzle it like a thirsty fuckin’ camel we wouldn’t run out so often!” Emma slammed the cottage door. Norah stared after her.
“Still enjoy working for her?” Marcus fell into step with Emma.
“Leave me alone,” Emma warned. “I’m not in the mood.”
“You were in the mood to make the cover with Jack Brandon.”
Emma stopped. “That’s none of your business.”
“It’s everyone’s business when it’s splashed over the papers.”
“Still, that’s between me and Jack.”
“When I asked you to lunch I didn’t realize I
had to have a famous name before you’d say yes.” His brown eyes narrowed and he leered at her. “Or do you play hard to get with all men at
“It’s OK, Jack. I’m just sorry if it causes you problems.”
Norah picked up the magazine. “At least it’s a good picture. It’s the price we pay,” she mused, “for choosing this career.”
“But y’all are still entitled to privacy! It’s common damn decency to let someone walk in the park or eat dinner in public without someone shovin’ a camera in their face.” Emma ran a hand through her hair and noticed Jack grinning at her. “What?” she wanted to know.
“Your accent. It thickens when you’re upset.”
“It always has,” said a deep voice from the doorway. Emma turned and gave a cry of delight.
“Chris!” She ran towards him and jumped. He caught her and swung her around before giving her loud kiss.
“You look good,” he told her as he set her back on her feet.
She took his hand. “Jack, this is Chris Roper, Broadway playboy and my best friend.”
“Jack.” Chris extended his other hand. “It’s great to finally meet you. I saw you in Heartbreak House last year. I admire your acting.”
“Thank you. Emma speaks of you often. I’m glad to meet you.”
Chris’s eyes landed on the magazine as Norah’s phone rang. His eyebrows shot up. “Well, well. Want to catch me up, Emma?”
Before she could respond, Norah cursed and threw her phone on the couch. “That was Thomas. There’s been a change of plans. We leave for Falmouth tomorrow.” She turned and stomped towards the kitchen.
Emma sighed. “Guess we’d better pack.”
Chapter 8
The brutal days bled into one another as everyone worked frantically. The weather had finally shifted from hot to chilled, and Thomas was pushing everyone hard. The scenes were difficult and demanding, and tempers were becoming short.
Emma was kept busy trying to keep up with Norah’s requests. The busier she was the more demanding and irritable she became.
“Damn it, Emma, I said I wanted chamomile tea! This is jasmine.” Norah shoved the cup aside.
“We’re out of chamomile. I sent Chris into town for more.”
“Maybe he won’t fuck up.” Norah bared her teeth as she stormed around the cottage. “I didn’t think making a cup of tea would be such a chore for you.”
Emma’s patience snapped. “Look, I know you’re stressed and tired. I’m sorry for that, and I’m sorry we’re out of your tea. Maybe if you wouldn’t guzzle it like a thirsty fuckin’ camel we wouldn’t run out so often!” Emma slammed the cottage door. Norah stared after her.
“Still enjoy working for her?” Marcus fell into step with Emma.
“Leave me alone,” Emma warned. “I’m not in the mood.”
“You were in the mood to make the cover with Jack Brandon.”
Emma stopped. “That’s none of your business.”
“It’s everyone’s business when it’s splashed over the papers.”
“Still, that’s between me and Jack.”
“When I asked you to lunch I didn’t realize I
had to have a famous name before you’d say yes.” His brown eyes narrowed and he leered at her. “Or do you play hard to get with all men at
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