Chapter 19
Jesse
Cal’s secretary had done more than seat them together for the fundraiser dinner. From posing together while their photograph was taken in the lobby of the grand hotel, to shaking hands with the governor, Fred organized for Jesse to spend every moment of the evening in his co-star’s company.
Jesse took pleasure in watching Cal greet some of the wealthiest donors in attendance like old friends, smooth and sure. There were doctors and lawyers, athletes and engineers. He introduced Jesse to each of them with what felt oddly like pride.
Just like the party at Edie Haywood’s home, this event also had a theme: A Night Amongst the Stars.
Unfortunately, as far as he could tell, it had less to do with interesting food and more to do with what everyone was wearing.
Dapper gold waistcoats, shimmering gold dresses, dramatic gold wristwatches and jewelry.
Jesse had never seen so much gold—until he stepped into the ballroom.
The space was impossibly brilliant. Even the vaulted ceilings had metallic details surrounding each of the sunny chandeliers, which cast a warm glow onto every reflective surface in the room.
The inside of a treasure chest couldn’t be half as awe-inspiring.
It was so extraordinary that Jesse took a tiny step closer to Cal, suddenly struck with a sense of vulnerability he wasn’t sure what to do with.
“You’re doing fine,” Cal said quietly as he put a supportive hand on Jesse’s upper back. Cal’s reassurance soothed him instantly. He let out a slow breath and his grin returned.
An attendant showed them to their table, which was very close to the stage at the front of the room. Cal pulled Jesse’s chair out for him before taking the one on his right.
When everyone started clapping, Jesse turned his attention to the stage where Kay and Jack Powell had appeared.
“Thank you, thank you,” Mr. Powell began, silencing the crowd with one raised hand.
“As you all know, this event for Full Plates, Full Hearts has become a beloved tradition here at Powell Productions. We’ve always been a studio that likes to give back—whether that be investing in new talent wherever we find it, by donating costumes and wigs to those in need, or by opening up our wallets and giving to charities like this one.
“These events are more than just galas; they’re more than dressing up and getting our pictures taken.
And they’re more than the silent auction itself.
Powell Productions alone has funded millions of meals for soup kitchens across the nation just from these events alone.
And we will continue to do so as long as there is a need.
“We are so pleased to announce that we have already surpassed last year’s donations thanks to your generous support.”
Mrs. Powell spoke up to add, “We would like to extend a special thanks to one of our own precious stars for their charitable actions that often go unrecognized. In addition to their regular donations, they have anonymously agreed to match every dollar raised tonight.”
As the applause grew to the loudest it had been yet, Mrs. Powell made eye contact with Cal, giving him a wink before she raised the cocktail she was holding and mimed a cheers to the crowd. Everyone, including Cal, raised their own drinks back to her.
Jesse hurried to do the same with his glass of water, though he couldn’t quite take his eyes off Cal’s profile as he took a sip.
His co-star looked the same as he had before the Powells began their speech.
And yet, Jesse felt as though he was seeing him in a whole new way.
When Cal caught him staring, his answering grin was almost bashful.
“You’re changing lives,” Jesse said with conviction.
Cal’s grin faded. “It’s nothing.”
Jesse shook his head. He wished Cal could see twelve-year-old Jessup Morgan waiting in the soup line, cold in his ill-fitting clothes, knowing that it was his only option for eating more than the boarding house dinner every night.
He wished he could put into words how lonely he’d felt most nights, comforted only by the notion that people he’d never met cared enough to support a kid like him while he was still trying to find work to do it on his own.
“It’s not nothing,” Jesse told him, his voice thick. He swallowed it away with another sip of water just as the first course of their meal was served.
Three rounds in, Jesse was poking at his steak.
“Not a fan?” Cal asked. He’d been speaking with the other people at their table, allowing Jesse time to sit and listen, but mostly think.
“I liked Hilliard’s pot roast better,” he confessed.
This pulled a deep laugh out of Cal.
“Be sure you tell him that when you see him next. It’ll make his year.”
“I can already guess the dessert won’t be as good as his pecan pie, either.”
“I’ll agree with you on that,” Cal said. “Nobody makes dessert like Hilliard.”
Jesse cast a glance around the room. He took in the lights overhead, the gilded sconces along the walls, the flickering candles.
There were countless bouquets of flowers, some serving as centerpieces while others were just decoration.
The air hummed with the voices of a few hundred people all speaking at once and the sound of cutlery working against porcelain as they all enjoyed their very expensive dinner.
It was a spectacle, Jesse decided, just like so many things he’d seen since he arrived in Hollywood. And while he could see the value in it, he also recognized that it could never replace the feeling of a home cooked meal and time spent with the people who really meant something to him.
“Do you think he would have us over again sometime?” Jesse asked.
“Sure.” Cal’s reply was reserved, and Jesse remembered himself.
“Sorry, sir,” he said, face heating. “I don’t mean to presume. I only had a nice time, that’s all.”
“I did, too,” Cal said, without the same hesitation as before. “We can certainly ask him.”
It was Jesse’s turn to take pause. When had they become we? He supposed spending nearly every day together for almost a month had a lot to do with it. But something deep within him coiled with delight at the idea that Cal might actually be enjoying his company that much.
“I promised Henrietta I would bring her a treat the next time I saw her,” Jesse told him. “I’ll need to buy some. I had a little friend on my postal route that I always kept one in my pocket for.”
“Also a dog, I hope,” Cal said.
Jesse chuckled. “Yes.”
“Tell me more about your work before.”
It all came back to him easily. Jesse shared stories about the various delivery jobs he’d had. He recounted some of his favorite memories over the years, as well as how heartbroken he’d been when he was let go from the postal service.
“I really thought I was going to do that forever,” Jesse said at last.
They’d talked through an unimpressive dessert and were now wandering the silent auction tables together, looking at the various items that had been donated but focused mostly on one another.
“Well, as angry as I am that they thought you were expendable,” Cal muttered as he peered at one of the bid sheets, “I can’t say that I’m upset at the outcome.”
Jesse looked up at him. “You mean you’re glad I came here?”
“Mr. Morgan, the only reason I’ve survived the last three weeks of filming is because I’ve had someone more talented than I am encouraging me every step of the way. And I mean that quite literally. I couldn’t have done this picture without you.”
“Hogwash,” Jesse managed through his private elation over Cal’s words. “You’re one of the best actors I’ve ever seen.”
“Oh, only one of the best, am I?” his co-star quipped. “What happened to only seeing Cal Campbell films?”
Jesse’s grin bunched to the side as he gave a little shrug.
“I was trying to impress you.”
Of course, he’d been telling the truth when he said it, but the reaction he got from Cal was worth the small lie at present. The man’s expression went from mock offense to smug pleasure in a blink.
“How is it that someone so incapable of accepting flattery and compliments is able to give both so expertly?”
Jesse snorted. “Because when I say those things, I know that I really mean them.”
“I pity any fool who believes he could be dishonest with you and get away with it,” Cal said. “You’re far too intelligent for that.”
Thoroughly praised and equally as embarrassed, Jesse bumped his shoulder against Cal’s arm.
In response, Cal put his hand a little left of center on his lower back, applying just enough pressure to guide him around a large group of people crowding one of the auction items. Jesse craned his neck to try and see what they were all so interested in, going up on his toes when that didn’t work.
“What are they bidding on there?”
When Cal didn’t answer, Jesse furrowed his brows at him expectantly. Even if he couldn’t see over the crowd, Cal certainly could.
“It’s the suitcase from the last movie I did with Edie.”
“The one she stood on to kiss you?” Jesse asked, a little too excited. The scene played out in his mind like a memory, intense and beautiful.
“The very same,” Cal confirmed. “It has a copy of the script inside that we both signed.”
Jesse made one last attempt to see it as they came around the other side.
He imagined what he would’ve given to be in the same room as that suitcase a month ago, let alone have enough money to actually dream of owning it.
But as they rounded the corner toward another row of tables, Jesse realized that he had something far more special, even if it had been arranged by a chain-smoking sourpuss.
He’d spent another evening with Cal Campbell.
The weight of his hand on Jesse’s hip felt confident, like he wanted it to be there as much as Jesse did. With this realization, Jesse made the bold decision to show Cal he felt the same.
He brought his arm around the other man’s waist, fingers flexing as he pressed them against what he knew to be a toned oblique underneath all the fancy clothes.
It felt familiar after dancing together for so many hours, but still daring.
Nobody had ever touched Jesse the way Cal did, holding him close during their dance lesson scenes and supporting his full weight during the lifts.
He’d never longed for anyone to touch him that way, or any way at all, except for Cal. And now that he knew what it was like, he wasn’t sure he could ever give it up.