Chapter Four #2
Her discomfort levels rose again, along with a dose of guilt as she recalled how voraciously she’d trawled through the internet the evening after she’d first met him.
There probably wasn’t a newspaper report she hadn’t read, and now she knew more about him than seemed fair.
The only son of Cathleen and Desmond Ramsey, acting legends who’d both starred in big-screen films. Married to actress Natalie Ambrose at twenty-nine, having met her on the set of the TV series Views of the Lake.
Divorced three years ago. One child, Max, now seven.
A lot of speculation about his relationship with his son, which had made for uncomfortable reading.
A lot of reports of Dan turning to drink and losing the plot since being axed from the medical drama. ‘I read some of them, yes.’
A flash of emotion came and went in his eyes; shame, embarrassment, humiliation? She suspected a dose of all three. ‘Then you’ll know there won’t be a part coming to me any time soon.’
She wasn’t sure what to say. I’m sorry seemed trite because it clearly wasn’t her fault. Yet saying nothing seemed inadequate. ‘Shouldn’t you be judged on your talent, rather than your press coverage?’
‘You’d hope so, wouldn’t you? But maybe that’s part of the trouble. I played Tyler Moore for six years. Nobody knows what I’m capable of any more.’ He averted his eyes, showing a sudden interest in the hands he’d clasped neatly in his lap.
She’d heard it said that actors were the most insecure people on the planet.
Looking at Dan when she’d first met him, or even half an hour ago, it would have been hard to believe.
Now it seemed entirely plausible. He appeared .
. . haunted was perhaps too strong, but there was something going on behind that beautiful face that was making him unhappy.
Quick as a flash though, he straightened his shoulders. ‘I’m waffling, and you have a daughter waiting for you.’ This time his smile was warm and genuine. ‘She’s a cracker, by the way. Far smarter than I was at her age.’
Anna felt a wave of happy smug. ‘Thank you.’
‘Does she take after her mother or father?’
‘The hair and attitude are mine, the eyes and gentleness, her father’s. I’d like to take credit for her smart, but her dad was probably smarter than me.’
He stilled, eyes locked on hers. ‘Was?’
‘Yes. Chris died five years ago.’
‘God, I’m sorry.’ He winced. ‘And that sounds totally inadequate. Must be tough, being a single parent, but that smart cookie sitting outside is clearly thriving.’
‘Thank you.’ She smiled, appreciating his comment. ‘You have a son, I think?’ She knew full well he had a son because she’d spent several hours reading about him. And about the fact that Dan never saw him.
‘Yes, Max. He’s seven.’ Again, Dan looked away and she sensed he was struggling with how much to tell her. How much more of himself to reveal. ‘You’ll have read about my lack of a relationship with him.’
She hesitated, but there was no kinder way of putting it. ‘I read what the press and your ex-wife have said, yes.’
His smile this time was woefully sad. ‘I can’t blame either of them totally.
I haven’t seen Max in over six months.’ Abruptly, he rose to his feet.
‘I should let you get back to your daughter. Think about the play, but if you’re going to dismiss the idea of me writing it, do it because you’d rather put on a bog-standard play.
Not because you don’t trust me to write the best Christmas play you’ll ever put on. I’ll see you tomorrow.’
She wasn’t sure what made her do it. The melancholy look in his eyes when he spoke of his son?
The fact that she knew he was going back to a hotel?
‘Would you like to come round for dinner?’ As his eyes seemed to pop out of their sockets, Anna realised how that sounded.
‘I mean, with me and Maisie. So you don’t have to eat alone in your hotel.
Though of course you might prefer that. Or you might be meeting someone.
’ Inside she died a thousand deaths, willing her mouth to stop spewing words, and instead connect properly with her brain.
‘Please don’t feel like you have to accept.
Only if you have nothing else better to do. ’
He waited patiently for her to finish. Then gave her a wide, heart-stopping smile. ‘I’d love to.’
‘Really? Even after a garbled invite like that?’ Slowly she rose to her feet, trying to regain her calm. ‘Sorry, it’s just I didn’t want you to think I was coming on to you. I expect you must get really fed up with that.’
Another smile, and he seriously had to stop doing that because those dimples were doing things to her equilibrium. ‘It depends on who’s giving me the come-on.’
Her heart flipped. Oh, my God, was he flirting with her?
Or was she so oxygen starved from her rambling invitation that she’d started to imagine things.
Drawing in a deep breath, she stepped round her desk.
‘Okay, good. I’m afraid we can’t eat too late for Maisie.
Does six thirty sound okay? I’ll text you the address. ’
He moved towards the door and held it open. Once again her heart did a crazy leap in her chest. It was like someone had pressed an awareness button and suddenly all she could see were his broad shoulders, the depths of his blue eyes. All she could smell was his crisp, fresh, expensive cologne.
‘Six thirty is great.’ His eyes swept over her face. ‘And for the record, if the invite had been for dinner, just you and me, my reply would have been the same.’
After he’d headed out, Anna sagged against the doorframe, her pulse hammering, legs feeling like the bones had been yanked out of them.
This wasn’t her. This giddy, waffling, wreck of hormones wasn’t her.
And that’s all it took for her to come down to earth and realise how ridiculous she was being.
He was a smooth, good-looking actor. He probably flirted with all women he met, leaving them feeling exactly like this.
She was nuts if she thought she was anything special.
How wonderful to feel like a woman for a few moments, though. Not a mum, or the head teacher, but a woman attractive enough that a man like Dan, no matter how briefly, wanted to flirt with her.