Plain Jane in the Spotlight

‘No, I’m fine … fine—honestly—’

It was a lie. Appalled, she could feel herself on the verge of hysterics as the truth crashed in on her.

‘Come on,’ he said firmly. ‘I’m not leaving you on your own in a strange place. Not given the state you’re in.’

But to be alone was what she needed in case the screams rising within her broke out. When he reached for her she flailed madly to fend him off, and the next moment she heard a loud crack as her hand made contact with his face.

The sound was shocking and the way he rubbed his cheek told its own story. Charlene backed away, hands over her mouth, eyes wide with horror. But, incredibly, he wasn’t offended.

‘Hey, it’s not that bad,’ Travis said. ‘No big deal.’

‘It is. Oh, heavens, I hit you really hard. I didn’t mean to—I’m sorry—’

‘You will be if you don’t let me buy you a coffee. Come on, no more arguments or I’ll get tough.’

His tone was light but he held her arm in a no-nonsense grip. Nor could she have defied him now. All the strength seemed to have drained out of her. The next thing she knew, she was sitting at a table in the corner of the studio canteen.

‘I’m going to the counter,’ he said. ‘Don’t even think of escaping while I’m gone, or I’ll get mad.’ He gave her a kindly smile. ‘I can be very nasty when I’m mad.’

He left her and she sat there, without the strength to move. She felt herself sagging everywhere—body, mind and heart. How had she been such a fool as to let it come to this? Plain, sensible Charlene, famed for her common sense! And she’d gone down like a row of ninepins.

Travis Falcon. Now she recalled that he was the star of the show. He didn’t act like a star, proud and pompous. He hadn’t been offended when she’d failed to recognise him, or even when she’d accidentally struck him. More like a nice guy than a star.

She dived into her bag and pulled out the newspaper with the picture of the man in the nightclub. As she opened it another picture fell out. It had been taken on a stage and showed a young man and a girl in nineteenth-century costumes, fervently clinging to each other. She took it with her everywhere.

‘Here we are.’ Travis’s voice made her jump as he appeared with coffee and rolls. ‘It’s good to see you calmer. I was getting worried.’

‘I’m really sorry about your face,’ she said. ‘I didn’t mean to hit you.’

‘I know you didn’t.’

‘It’s not swelling, is it?’ she asked, searching his face. ‘If I’ve damaged you the studio will probably sue me.’

‘Hey, do you think I’m some sort of a wimp to be so easily hurt? You’re not the first girl to—Yeah, well, never mind that. Anyway, we’re only rehearsing today, not shooting, so if you’ve disfigured me it won’t matter until tomorrow.’

His comic self-deprecation was attractive, and her nerves eased enough to manage a shaky laugh, which made him regard her with approval.

‘That’s better. Now, let’s talk. How do you come to be here? I suppose you were looking for Lee?’ She nodded and he said, ‘Perhaps you should have warned him you were coming?’

‘But I did, only … he doesn’t seem to be getting his messages the last few days.’

Travis judged it best to maintain a tactful silence. He’d known Lee for only a few weeks and disliked him. Selfish, self-centred, indifferent to everyone else was how he would have described him. In the short time Lee had been in Los Angeles he’d raised the roof with his ‘girly antics’ as they had become known.

But he wouldn’t say this to the young woman sitting beside him. There was no need. Clearly she was discovering it for herself.

‘Do you know him well?’ he asked.

‘We’ve acted together.’

‘You’re an actress?’

‘Not professionally. I work in a bank, but I do a lot of amateur acting. That’s how I met Lee.’

‘Hey, now I remember. There was a story in the papers—he hadn’t had a job in a while, so he did some amateur stuff and an agent saw him.’

‘That’s right.’ Charlene showed him the photograph. ‘That’s us.’

‘What was the play?’

‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream.’

He raised his eyebrows. ‘Lee played Shakespeare?’

‘He was very good,’ she said defensively. ‘He was Demetrius, I was Helena.’

And Helena spent most of the play pursuing Demetrius, begging to know why he no longer loved her. Travis studied the picture, noticing the passionate adoration in her face and the impatience in his. How much of it was acting? Not much, he guessed, drawing on his knowledge of Lee.

He glanced at her. She was tall, with dark, straight hair, flowing casually over her shoulders. Not a beauty. Not even pretty in the strictest sense. Her features were regular but there was a slight touch of severity about her face that might warn people off, just at first, although it faded when she smiled, brightening her large dark eyes.

Intriguing, he thought. She didn’t flaunt everything on the surface, but perhaps she might lure a man along a fascinating path of discovery. Or maybe not. Who could say? But she was exactly the kind of woman he doubted that Lee bothered with for long.

He knew a twinge of pity. He had an uneasy feeling that she was facing heartbreak.

A shadow appeared in the doorway and a woman strode in, looking around frantically.

‘Oh, goodness!’ Charlene said. ‘I got in as part of a studio tour, and that’s the leader, looking for me.’

The woman bore down on them, uttering words of concern and disapproval.

‘I’m afraid it’s my fault,’ Travis said at once. ‘Charlene is an old friend of mine and when I saw her here I persuaded her to spend the day with me.’ He smiled at Charlene. ‘You should have told me you were coming and I’d have rolled out the red carpet.’

‘I didn’t want to be a trouble,’ she said, falling into character.

‘You’re never a trouble to me.’ He turned back to the leader. ‘You can safely leave her in my care.’

He accompanied the words with his warmest look and the leader melted.

‘Oh, well … in that case I’ll leave you to it.’ She departed, but not before giving him a mystified look over her shoulder.

‘You see?’ Travis said to Charlene. ‘No problem.’

‘That was an incredible performance,’ she said. ‘You really fooled her. Thank you so much. And I won’t be a nuisance. I’ll go now.’

‘No way. You just heard me say you were spending the day with me, so that’s what you have to do.’ He dropped his voice to a theatrical undertone. ‘If you flee my company it looks bad. People will think I’m losing my touch.’

‘And we can’t have them thinking that,’ she agreed.

‘Right. Now it’s time we went to the rehearsal.’