Chapter 4
4
K ate watched Vanessa, trying not to stare as the older woman perused the menu. The candlelight danced across Vanessa’s features, accentuating the elegant lines of her face, the soft curve of her lips. She was breathtaking, her nearly black hair falling in loose waves around her shoulders, her hazel eyes studying the menu intently.
The restaurant was hushed, intimate. Exactly as Vanessa had promised. They were tucked away in a quiet corner, a discreet haven for their first “date.” The soft murmur of conversations and the clink of cutlery against plates provided a soothing backdrop, but Kate found it hard to relax.
This was a dangerous game for her. Sitting across from her long-time crush, pretending that this was just another role to play. Kate’s feelings for Vanessa went beyond admiration, and she was going to have to constantly balance trying to look like she cared about Vanessa with guarding her own feelings.
Most people would say that Vanessa was an attractive woman. Kate had certainly always thought she was, but when Vanessa came out, Kate’s attraction turned from admiration into desire. Not that Kate had ever thought that she would have a chance with Vanessa. Not then and certainly not now.
She took a sip of her wine, hoping the rich Cabernet would calm her nerves. She needed to focus.
As Vanessa looked up, her eyes locking with Kate’s, a small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. Kate’s heart stuttered, afraid that Vanessa could see the truth, that this arrangement would be called off before they’d even started it.
Vanessa’s gaze held hers, and Kate felt a spark of something pass between them. She found herself caught in the intensity of Vanessa’s eyes, a warm glow spreading across her cheeks.
“I imagine while Elliot was happy to see us diving right in,” Vanessa said, “he won’t be happy that we didn’t sign those contracts last night.”
“Do we really need to sign them now if I’m not taking the money?”
“Maybe not.” Vanessa placed her menu down, her fingers smoothing over the leather cover. “Though convincing Elliot to let it go might be a challenge.”
“It might work in our favor,” Kate said. “Not to have anything on paper.”
“That’s true.” Vanessa twisted the stem of her wine glass.
The waiter arrived, and they placed their orders—a crisp salad for Vanessa, followed by the grilled salmon, and for Kate, the beef carpaccio to start and then the seared scallops. Kate felt butterflies in her stomach as the waiter poured more wine.
She took a breath, reminding herself that this was all part of the act, that this was something she could do. Pretend. But it was challenging to separate her genuine emotions from the performance.
Really, this was entirely normal. Vanessa was probably used to people having a crush on her. Kate needed to reframe this whole situation and lean into that idea. Kate could safely allow her gaze to linger on Vanessa, at least when they were in public. In private, she’d have to turn on her acting skills and tone it all down.
“So, tell me about yourself, Kate.” Vanessa leaned forward, resting her elbow on the table, her interest seeming genuine.
“Well, what do you want to know?” Kate asked, her voice steady, belying the nerves fluttering in her stomach. “Or what has Elliot left out? That’s probably the better question.”
Vanessa shook her head. “He’s told me nothing. I know a little bit about your career, but not much else.” She reached for her glass, her eyes holding Kate’s. “Why did you want to be an actress?”
Kate paused. It was a simple question, one she’d answered countless times in interviews, yet Vanessa’s direct gaze made it feel different, more personal.
“I think I was sixteen or even seventeen before the idea that I could even be an actress really started to take hold,” Kate began, her voice soft, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. “But if I look back, I’d always been fascinated with the idea that someone could step into another person’s life so completely that they made you forget who they really were. That they could make you believe in the story they were telling so deeply that your own world disappeared for a while. My mom used to take me to this movie theater every Saturday. It was this really old place, with velvet seats and a vintage feel about it, and they showed classics every Saturday afternoon. I remember being completely in awe of feeling like for two hours I was away in another part of the world, living someone else’s life.”
Kate could have gone on, but she made herself stop, heat coming to her cheeks as she took a sip of wine. She didn’t have to explain to Vanessa how amazing it was to be an actress.
“Which movie made the biggest impression?” Vanessa asked.
“The Barefoot Contessa,” Kate answered without second guessing why that movie came into her head, a soft smile playing on her lips at the memory. “I was only thirteen or fourteen when I saw it, and it completely blew me away. Ava Gardner’s screen presence was magnetic, the way she carried herself…”
Kate paused, her eyes flicking up to meet Vanessa’s, and she felt her pulse quicken at the intensity she found there. “It’s funny,” Kate continued, “I hadn’t thought about that film in a while, but now, sitting here, I realize how much it must have influenced me.”
“In what way?” Vanessa leaned forward, her expression curious, encouraging Kate to continue.
“Well, the main character, Maria Vargas, she’s this incredibly strong, independent woman who knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to go after it. But at the same time, she has this vulnerability, this soft side, that makes her relatable.” Kate took a sip of her wine. “And I think I’ve seen just about every Ava Gardner movie since.”
As Kate spoke, she saw a thoughtful expression cross Vanessa’s face, and she wondered if her words had resonated in some way. The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken thoughts, and Kate found herself searching Vanessa’s eyes for answers to questions she hadn’t yet voiced.
“So,” Vanessa said, breaking the moment with a playful lift of her eyebrows, “it seems I’ve uncovered your type.”
Kate felt her cheeks warm at the implication, her pulse quickening as she realized where this line of questioning was headed. “What do you mean?” she asked, her voice a little breathless.
“Hey, I’m not judging. Who wouldn’t have a crush on Ava Gardner? I know I did, but I was more interested in Betty Grable or maybe Lana Turner, if we’re sticking with that time period.”
Kate’s heart hammered in her chest as she met Vanessa’s gaze, a mix of emotions flashing across her eyes. She could see the playful glint in Vanessa’s eyes, but beneath it, there was something more, a hint of curiosity, perhaps even something akin to interest.
“So you have a thing for blondes?” Kate asked, running her fingers through her own golden hair with deliberate casualness. “Good to know.”
“Another reason Elliot’s plan might actually work,” Vanessa said, her eyes lingering on Kate’s hair.
The waiter materialized at their table, balancing two white plates with practiced grace. He placed the carpaccio before Kate, its paper-thin slices of beef arranged in a delicate pattern, dotted with capers and shavings of parmesan. Vanessa’s salad was a vibrant composition of fresh greens and roasted pine nuts.
“Can I get you ladies anything else?”
“No,” Kate said, her gaze shifting to Vanessa.
“We’re fine, thank you,” Vanessa said, picking up her fork.
The waiter left them alone again. Kate picked up her own fork, grateful for the momentary distraction of food. She needed these few seconds to compose herself, to steady her racing pulse.
“You know, everyone remembers Ava Gardner’s beauty in that film,” Vanessa said. “But what stays with me is Maria’s loneliness.” Vanessa’s fingers played with the stem of her wine glass. “The way she kept trying to break free of other people’s expectations.” She took a sip of wine. “And the irony doesn’t escape me,” Vanessa said, a wry smile playing on her lips. “Here we are, trying to shape our own story, just like those men did with Maria. Though I suppose at least we’re the ones writing the script this time.”
“Maria Vargas was just a character in a movie,” Kate said, keeping her tone light. “And we’re just two actresses having dinner.”
Kate watched Vanessa take another bite of her salad, still processing their conversation. The whole evening had taken on a dreamlike quality - the intimate setting, the easy flow of conversation, Vanessa’s undivided attention. If someone had told her a week ago she’d be sitting across from Vanessa Prescott, discussing old Hollywood films and sharing meaningful glances, she would have laughed it off as fantasy.
But this wasn’t a real date. Kate had to keep reminding herself of that fact. The warmth in Vanessa’s eyes, the way she leaned in when Kate spoke, the subtle flirting about blonde actresses - it was all part of their arrangement. Vanessa was simply being professional, making sure they could create convincing chemistry for the cameras.
If they could maintain this easy rapport, if Kate could keep her actual feelings tucked away beneath the surface, they might be able to pull this off.
Kate took another sip of wine, letting its warmth spread through her chest. She could do this. She could separate the fantasy from reality, her genuine attraction from their staged romance. After all, she was an actress. A good one. Pretending was what she did best, even if her racing pulse suggested otherwise.