Behind the Film Star's Smile. Kate Hardy
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‘You have a trailer? And one of those chairs with your name on it?’ She felt her eyes widen. Luke McKenzie was a huge international star, and he’d made her feel so at ease that she’d actually forgotten that.
He laughed again. ‘Don’t be expecting a huge palace with gold-plated taps or what have you. It’s just an ordinary caravan. Somewhere to have some space to myself.’ He scratched the top of the dog’s head. ‘Which Madam here would chew up in a matter of seconds if I left her there.’
Baloo just gave him an innocent look.
Jess followed him back to the trailer. As he’d said, it was just a caravan, a place where he could make himself a drink and chill out. It was also incredibly tidy; either he was a neat freak, or one of the runners had to tidy it up for him every day. There was a dog cage, she noticed; obviously the one he’d talked about yesterday, from which the dog had escaped.
‘Photos. OK. Give me a second.’ He rummaged in a drawer and brought out two photographs and cardboard envelopes. ‘Who do I sign them to?’
‘Carly—she’s my sister—and Shannon, my best friend, please.’
He took out a pen, signed the photographs with a flourish, and put them neatly in the envelopes.
‘Thank you.’ She smiled. ‘You’ll probably hear the shrieks of joy all the way across London when I hand them over tonight.’
‘Pleasure.’ He rubbed the dog’s ears. ‘Right, you. Home for dinner. And don’t keep me awake tonight with your snoring.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘I had no idea that dogs snored. Or that they were pillow hogs.’
‘Oh, they snore, all right. And they’ll sneak onto the sofa between you if they think they can get away with it.’
He glanced at her left hand, and she realised what she’d just let slip. Cross with herself, she lapsed into silence.
* * *
It sounded very much to Luke as if Jess Greenacre had once had a dog, but didn’t have one any more. And she’d also clearly been in a relationship, though she wasn’t wearing a wedding ring.
So what had happened?
Had it been a bad break-up and her ex-partner had claimed custody of their dog? Was that why she’d been reluctant to look after Baloo, because it brought back memories of a dog she missed very badly?
She clearly didn’t want to talk about it because she’d gone quiet on him and the laughter had gone from her green eyes.
Luke was shocked to realise that he wanted to make her smile again. Which was crazy; he didn’t plan to get involved with anyone, ever again. Fleur had put him off relationships for life. Picking up the pieces when things went wrong was hard enough; to have to do it in the full glare of the media spotlight had been a nightmare.
But he couldn’t leave it like this, with things so awkward between him and Jess. The best way he could think of to break the ice again was to ham it up. Entertain her. ‘And she raided my shoe rack. She had one of every single pair in her bed yesterday, didn’t you, Madam?’
The dog glanced up at him and looked as if butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth.
Jess reached over to rub the top of the dog’s head. ‘That explains a lot.’
‘Does it?’ Luke was mystified.
‘I think I can tell you her history now,’ Jess said. ‘She was left home alone a lot. Her owners probably weren’t used to dogs and either didn’t know how to train her or just couldn’t make the time.’ For a second, she looked angry—on Baloo’s behalf, Luke thought. ‘If they’d looked on the Internet, they could’ve found tips to help. Leaving the radio on, putting a blanket or an old towel in the laundry basket overnight and then putting it on her bed so it smelled of them and made her feel less alone, or giving her a special toy to distract her.’
Luke wouldn’t have had a clue about any of that.
‘She probably chewed the place down from a mixture of boredom and anxiety.’ She sighed. ‘Some people just shouldn’t have dogs.’
Including me, Luke thought.
‘She’s really worried about being left alone, now, and she’s going to need separation training.’
‘That’s what you said before. Is that difficult?’ Stupid question. Especially as it would probably make Jess think that he wanted to learn how to do it so he could keep the dog himself. Which he couldn’t.
‘Not so much difficult as the fact that it takes time,’ she said.
‘Which I don’t have.’ He grimaced. ‘Without you, we’d be totally stuck. And it’s a relief not to have someone complaining about her all the time.’
‘People whose shoes she chews?’ Jess asked archly.
‘I don’t think Mimi minded so much about the shoes as, um, not getting time with me on her own.’
She flushed. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to get in the way of your date.’
‘Trust me, I’m not dating Mimi, and I don’t want to.’
‘She’s really that difficult?’
The look of shock on Jess’s face told him that she hadn’t meant to blurt out the question. ‘She’s really that difficult,’ he confirmed wryly. ‘I’m looking for an easy life right now.’ Just so Jess knew he wasn’t hitting on her.
‘Look, I don’t want to put my foot in it, but I, um, saw the papers last year.’
Hadn’t everyone? Fleur had turned the end of their marriage into a total media circus.
‘I get where you’re coming from and, just so you know, I’m not going to turn into your Number One Fan and stalk you or anything,’ Jess finished.
‘I know.’ He tried for lightness. ‘Otherwise I’d set my dog on your shoe wardrobe.’
‘Shoe wardrobe?’ She looked surprised.
‘Don’t all women have them?’ he asked. Fleur had needed a walk-in wardrobe to hold all her shoes—organised by colour and heel height. She’d had ten pairs of black court shoes with four-inch heels, and Luke hadn’t been able to tell the difference between them.
‘I have three pairs of shoes,’ Jess said. ‘No, four, if you count my running shoes.’
He laughed. ‘I like you. You’re refreshing.’
‘Thank you. I think.’ She smiled, and it sent a thrill all the way down his spine. Which was crazy. He and Jess came from different worlds. He barely knew her. He couldn’t be reacting to her like this.
‘Just for the record, I think I like you, too.’ Then she grimaced. ‘Sorry. You must hear that all the time, people coming up to you and telling you they love you.’
He smiled. ‘It happens a bit, yes, but I’m not daft enough to think that they love me. They don’t know me. They love the character I played in a movie, and there’s a big difference between the two.’ Which had been half the problem with Fleur. She’d loved who she thought he was, not who he really was. That, and the fact that he hadn’t been able to give her what she really wanted.
‘I suppose it’s like the baddies in soap operas. People shout at them in the street because they confuse them with the character, and they might be incredibly sweet in real life instead of being mean,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘So you’re not a handsome, charming and posh Englishman with floppy hair, who isn’t very good at talking about his feelings?’
He laughed. ‘Got it in one.’ Though, actually, he knew it wasn’t that far off the mark. He’d been typecast for a reason. ‘Well—I’d better let you get on. Enjoy your evening with your sister and your best friend.’
‘I