Chapter 6
Cal
Cal had never felt so unsure of himself.
Even when he’d first started in film, he’d had the support of the studio head and the assurance that he was attractive enough to get some amount of success.
But in that rehearsal studio, he was filled with uncertainty.
What was he doing there? What was he thinking? What was Ezra thinking, for God’s sake?
He studiously avoided Morgan’s gaze. The young man had been so sweetly encouraging, so cheerful about Cal’s complete lack of dancing talent, that Cal’s uncertainty was twisted with guilt.
Morgan was just starting his career; Cal hated to think that he was endangering it with his terpsichorean failings.
The choreographer stood from the piano and joined them on the dance floor. Amazingly, the man still had a bounce in his step, even after witnessing Cal’s atrocious attempts.
“I think we’ll start with the basics,” he said. “For both of you. I take it that neither of you have had any formal dance training?”
Cal shook his head and saw Morgan do the same.
“Well, that will help somewhat. Let’s learn to walk to tempo.” He counted off and led the way, walking as he continued to speak out the rhythm.
Cal managed that, at least, but it took all his focus to keep going as the choreographer increased the tempo.
In one incredibly embarrassing incident, they were directed to walk on the offbeat and Cal floundered horribly.
Morgan, of course, had no issues whatsoever.
And when Cal tripped his way for the whole length of the studio, Morgan reached out a hand to grasp Cal’s own.
“That’s an excellent idea, Mr. Morgan!” the choreographer gushed. “You’ll have to dance in sync for the film, so it would do well to start now. Let’s try it again, yes?”
Cal concentrated on following Morgan’s lead. It was easier walking in step to the other man than it was to follow Mr. Price ahead of them. The warmth of Morgan’s hand in his made him feel as though he’d pushed his calming magic onto himself.
When the choreographer seemed satisfied that they—but really, Cal—could walk properly, he showed them how to stand in a dancer’s hold, with Cal’s arm around Morgan’s waist and Morgan’s hand atop Cal’s bicep.
It felt strangely intimate. Despite having done many love scenes over the years, with some of the biggest and most beautiful stars Powell had to offer, Cal had rarely felt as vulnerable as he did in that moment.
Morgan was smiling up at him, looking as cheerful and determined as ever.
His cheeks were glowing with the exercise and obvious joy he had while moving his feet.
The sparkle in his eyes gave further evidence to that emotion, as did the soft curve of his lips.
With his hand on Morgan’s slim waist, Cal thought of how much the other man had spoken of his hardships in Georgia.
This opportunity meant so much to him. Cal met his gaze and felt a renewed determination not to fail him.
“Now, Mr. Campbell,” the choreographer chirped beside him, “you’ll be leading. Start with your left foot, if you please, and we’ll start with the slower tempo like we did before. All right? Mr. Morgan, you’ll be starting with your right foot and following Mr. Campbell’s lead.”
Morgan nodded his understanding.
Cal smiled weakly and led the way across the floor, doing his best to stick to the choreographer’s tempo as he counted off and clapped.
Morgan followed flawlessly, even as Cal inadvertently led them in a curve to the side.
It gave him a strange rush of responsibility mixed with an unfamiliar emotion: gratitude that the other man trusted him so well.
Mr. Price had them repeat the exercise until they had run through the different tempos they’d practiced earlier. He finally pronounced himself satisfied.
“We’ll start here first thing in the morning and go through some stretches before I start teaching you a few basic steps.
I’ll let Mx. Allen know that we will—ahem, may—need more time for practice than I’d previously supposed.
We’ll start with daily morning lessons and then move on to rehearsals. That’s all for today, gentlemen!”
Cal felt his face flush with heat but he thanked the choreographer for his time and led the way back out of the building.
To his surprise, Morgan was still in a good mood. He practically bounced beside him as they stepped into the sunshine.
“I can’t think of a better way to start the day.”
“I’m surprised that you haven’t run screaming back to Georgia.”
“You’re much better than you think.”
Cal gave him a mock hard look. “Honesty is very important in a co-star, Mr. Morgan.”
“Jesse,” he corrected. “And all right, so you can’t dance. You never pretended otherwise. I need more polish, too.”
“You don’t seem too upset by that.”
He shrugged. “I was never taught, so it’ll be nice to learn from a professional.”
“You learned how to do all that on your own?”
He laughed and something fizzled in Cal’s gut again. “My magic knows what to do. I just let it guide my feet.” He let out a satisfied breath and looked around. “What’s next?”
“That’s it for today actually. We’re both free to go. I believe the commissary is still open for lunch if you want to eat before you go home.”
“Is that where you’re going?”
Cal thought he caught a bit of hope in the other man’s tone. He shook his head. “I have a lunch date. But, er, tomorrow I’d love to join you.”
Morgan’s surprised smile lit Cal up inside. Before he could examine that any further, he pointed the way to the commissary and hurried to where his chauffeur was waiting.
* * *
When Cal started out at Powell Productions, Edith Haywood had been the first movie star to take him under her wing.
She’d shown him around the studio lot, explained how to handle temperamental directors, taught him how to talk to reporters.
They’d starred in three pictures together and their chemistry was so convincing that audiences all over the country had believed there to be a true romance between them.
When the studio decided to take advantage of that misconception by encouraging them to get married, Cal had been only too happy to oblige.
Marrying the woman who’d become his best friend felt like a dream come true.
It was a shame it hadn’t lasted.
Edie found the marriage constricting rather than idyllic.
Even living separately hadn’t helped. Though Cal tried everything he could to keep the marriage intact, Edie was unhappy, so it ended.
He still loved her, and he knew she loved him, but not quite in the same way.
He would have happily lived forever as man and wife, in whatever unconventional way Edie needed, but she had insisted marriage wasn’t for her, and the divorce proceedings began.
The gossip columns had a heyday with the news, framing it as a fiery affair. Conjecture arose around Edie’s temperament, Cal’s career ambitions, and both of their fidelity.
The studio took advantage of the negative press as much as they had the positive. Edie made headlines in firecracker roles and Cal starred with just about every attractive performer on the lot.
But despite the benefit to both of their careers and their continued friendship, Cal had never shaken the feeling that he had failed her.
Nor had he shaken the love he felt for her.
No one since had come even close. By now, he had resigned himself to carrying a torch for his best friend for the rest of his life, forever comparing other relationships to theirs and finding them wanting.
But as Cal walked into the deli on Camden and saw Edie sitting in their usual booth at the back of the restaurant, he felt the same wash of comfort he felt every time he saw her.
She looked magnificent, as always. She knew exactly what sort of clothes accentuated her curvy figure.
Her peroxide blonde hair was coiffed into perfect finger waves that ended in loose and fluffy curls, her lipstick was a sharp red to match her nails, and the white fox stole draped around her shoulders made her look as though she was ready for an evening at the Pink Peacock, rather than lunch at a humble deli.
But she seemed right at home amidst the cracked vinyl seats, holding a folded newspaper in one hand and clicking her fingernails against the tabletop with the other.
A half-empty coffee cup was sitting in front of her.
She looked up as he approached and tossed the newspaper to the booth beside her. She turned her cheek as he bent down to kiss it.
“You should give that tie to Freddie,” she said by way of greeting. She had a thick New Jersey accent that the studio had long since given up trying to change.
He rolled his eyes as he sat in the booth opposite. “Please stop giving all of my things away to my secretary.”
She smirked and drained the rest of her coffee. “So how is Hollywood’s newest musical star?”
“He’s very good. I saw him dance for the first time today. I think he has a big career ahead of him.”
“I meant you.”
“Oh.” He picked up the menu even though he knew it by heart. “Let’s reserve our judgment on my musical prowess until the picture’s released, shall we?”
She plucked the menu out of his grasp. “Spill it. What’s eating you?”
“I just lived through the longest hour and a half of my life,” he groaned. “We met with the choreographer today.”
“I heard you’re working with Price. He’s very good.”
“I’m sure he is. But I’m not.”
The waitress stopped by the table and plopped a set of plates in front of them.
After coming to the deli for years, they no longer had to order their food; the staff simply knew.
There was a pastrami on rye for Edie and a club sandwich on wheat for Cal.
Edie took Cal’s extra pickle and Cal took the cherry off her cobbler.
It was comforting in its familiarity, and Cal desperately needed it after the morning he’d had.
“As I recall,” she said after taking a crunch of the pickle, “you weren’t very good at acting either when you first started.”
“That was different.”
“How?”
“It just was.”
She lifted an eyebrow.
“This is so damn difficult. I could barely walk to tempo.”
She gave a surprised snort of laughter. Despite his maudlin mood, he felt his mouth lift at the sound of it.
“Well with that cutie by your side, I’m sure you’ll pick it up in no time. He’s quite a little Southern peach.”
“Have you met him?”
“I’ve seen him. He’s just your type.”
Cal’s face heated and he took a hurried sip of coffee. “I’d actually appreciate it if you didn’t make this worse than it already is. I barely slept a wink last night thinking about how my career is about to go down the drain.”
“You could’ve said no.”
“You know I couldn’t.”
“I know you wouldn’t, you mean. And since you don’t know how to say no, you’ll have to deal with the consequences. Personally, I think this is a great opportunity for you. It’ll stretch you. You need to be stretched. A good challenge gets the blood pumping.”
“Says the woman who handpicks her own directors and writers.”
“I did a western last year. That was different.”
“You wore a fringed corset and everyone conveniently ignored how incongruous your accent was in a New Mexico saloon.”
“I did love that corset,” she said with a happy sigh before fixing him with a beady look.
“I made it work for me. And you’re going to do the same.
You’re going to enjoy the hell out of that sweetheart’s company, you’re going to work your heart out so as not to let him down because that’s what you do, and then the picture will top the box office because that’s what Ez does best.”
She was right and they both knew it. He took a bite of his sandwich as he mulled over what to say in response.
“If I were cast in the role of the dance student, I wouldn’t be so worried,” he admitted. “But I’m supposed to be the instructor. I don’t see how anyone will buy that.”
“They’ll buy it because you do calm, collected, and suave better than you do wide-eyed and fumbling. Stop worrying. You’re in good hands, including your own.”
He sighed in defeat. They ate in companionable silence for a while until Edie broke it with a pointed query about why he’d declined the invitation to her party.
“You could bring the kid with you.”
“He isn’t ready yet.”
“I want to meet him.”
“He isn’t ready yet.”
She smirked. “So protective.”
“When you meet him you’ll understand.”
“I’m sure I will,” she drawled.
Cal very carefully did not ask her to elaborate on that comment.