Chapter 20
Cal
Cal slept late the next day. One of the reasons for being a layabout in the morning was a good one: he was tired and he needed the rest, especially after a late night at the charity event.
But the other reason was because in bed, he could close his eyes and think back to his favorite moments from the evening before: Morgan’s expression when Kay let it slip that Cal had matched the donations, Morgan’s excitement about the suitcase, and Morgan’s hand sliding around his waist. That moment was the most vivid.
He could still feel the phantom warmth of the other man’s touch.
Staying in bed meant keeping the day on hold for as long as possible, keeping the memory of the touch on his hip, and smiling quietly to himself with no one else the wiser.
“Why are you smiling to yourself over there?” Fred asked as he sailed into the room, cigarette smoke wafting in his wake.
Cal held back on a groan. “I’m resting.”
“Oh really?” Fred pushed the drapes open, almost enthusiastically. “You’re sure you’re not reminiscing about a certain Southern sweetheart who—”
“Yes.”
“If you say so.”
Cal leveraged himself onto his elbows. “Any reason you and Edie are being so gung-ho about me falling in love with my co-star? You haven’t been this invested in my love life since…”
“Ginger Boynton. I know. Although I had high hopes for that makeup guy.”
“Irving? Eh, we were just fooling around.”
Fred gave him a disapproving look before yanking the wardrobe doors open. “Cal Campbell doesn’t fool around. You put your heart on the line every damn time.”
“That’s not true.”
Fred didn’t respond. With his back turned to the bed and the metallic click-clack of hangers being jostled against each other, Cal could only imagine the judgmental expression of his secretary.
He sighed and laid back down. “I just don’t think I’ll ever love someone as much as I love Edie. That’s all. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“I never said it was wrong. I just think you’ve been searching for the wrong things ever since the divorce. That’s what’s so different this time.”
Cal felt an anxious swirl in his stomach. “What do you mean?”
A pink tie made its way off a rack and smoothly into Fred’s pocket.
“He likes you.” Fred turned and fixed Cal with a level look.
“You. Not Cal Campbell, the movie star. Not Roger Blake or Johnny Malloy or Guy Hughes or any of your characters. He likes you for you. That’s rare.
I could count on one hand the number of people who genuinely like you as a person. ”
“Thanks a lot,” Cal grumbled.
Fred arched an eyebrow and turned back to the wardrobe.
The click-clacking continued. “Which leads me to my other reason. He likes you for you because you let him see you. That’s…
even more rare.” He twisted slightly in order to toss a very expensive suit that should definitely not be tossed onto the bed.
“And finally, he’s fucking adorable. And you two look cute together.
And Edie and I are worried about you. And I don’t want you to die alone—or, even worse, with someone who doesn’t care for you.
And you are the second most entertaining pair to watch these days. ”
“That’s more reasons than I was expecting.”
“Do you want to wear a bow tie or an ascot tonight?”
“I don’t care,” Cal replied, which was just as well, since Fred was already tossing a tie onto the suit.
Fred took a step back and studied the wardrobe.
“What are you looking for?” Cal said, sitting up. “You already picked out my outfit.”
“Trying to decide if I should borrow one of your coats,” Fred murmured.
“You’ve already borrowed a tie,” Cal pointed out.
“Pink isn’t your color. I’m doing you a favor.”
“Tell that to Edie. She gave me that tie.”
“I already did. Do you want breakfast sent up so you can keep daydreaming about blue eyes?”
Cal grumbled and got out of bed.
* * *
Cal tweaked his bow tie and turned to see his silhouette in the mirror, smoothing out the front of his tux as he did so.
He couldn’t help but wonder what Morgan saw when he looked at him.
Did he see Cal as the movie star he’d admitted to having a crush on?
Did he see him as a guide and mentor in the tumultuous Hollywood landscape?
Or was Fred right? Did he see Cal underneath all of the gloss and the magic?
He thought of the way Morgan had reacted to the donation.
The emotion thickening his voice had been more rewarding than Cal deserved for something as simple as a monetary donation.
He thought of the way Morgan had seen him when he was unsure and riddled with self-doubt.
Many fans would have lost their interest if they’d seen him like that.
Or worse, they might have given an exclusive interview to a tabloid about the real Cal Campbell.
But Morgan hadn’t told anyone about his vulnerability, nor had he teased him.
Cal fiddled with his cufflinks. Morgan also hadn’t lost his expression of interest, either.
Cal huffed to himself. He hated it when Fred was right about things.
His housekeeper rapped on the door to tell him the studio car had arrived, so he gave his tux one last brush of his palm and went downstairs.
For the first time, Morgan was already in the car when he sat down. He supposed the lower ranking actor was expected to wait a little longer for the movie star. Morgan didn’t seem bothered. On the contrary, he was looking out the window with evident curiosity at Cal’s home.
“I shouldn’t be surprised,” Morgan said as the car pulled out of the driveway. “I’ve seen what kind of houses most movie stars live in.”
Cal felt inexplicably self-conscious by the comment. “Don’t care for big houses, I take it?”
“I didn’t say that. It’s gorgeous.”
“But?”
Morgan crooked a smile. “I think I’d prefer living in a house like Hilliard’s.”
“It would certainly be more practical. Although I’m not much of a cook, so I do like having more space for a domestic staff.”
“I wasn’t judging you, sir. They’re certainly good houses for large parties. Do you like to throw big parties like Ms. Haywood and the Powells?”
“I used to.”
Morgan cocked his head. “But not anymore?”
“Lost my taste for it.” He wanted to leave it at that, but Morgan had always been so honest with him.
And besides, if Fred was right, the other man liked him for him.
So perhaps he preferred honesty? Cal shifted in his seat.
“You remember when we rode to the Pink Peacock together, and talked about what it takes to make public appearances?”
Morgan nodded.
Cal looked out the window. “Well, that’s what most people expect of me. The more people I invited to the parties, the more I had to put on the right kind of smile and the right kind of suit. I didn’t like having to do all of that…pretending…in my own home.”
“I can definitely understand that,” Morgan said, his voice soft.
Cal looked at him. “You don’t do a whole lot of pretending, I think.”
“Much to the publicity department’s disappointment, probably. It bothers you though? To pretend?”
“I used to enjoy it. It was as much a role to play as any of the characters I was assigned.”
“What changed?”
“I don’t know. Got tired, I guess. Not the good kind of tired, like you get after a lot of dance rehearsal.
The bone-deep kind from being someone you’re not for too long.
I started to feel like I was always on, always playing a part.
The facade just kept stretching and stretching and…
” He let out a deep breath and forced a chuckle.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to go on about it. ”
“I asked,” Morgan said simply. “But you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
Cal was surprised by how touched he was.
Not just that Morgan was curious to learn more about him, but also that he was unbothered if he didn’t want to open up more.
He decided to offer a small, but precious, kernel of honesty as a thank you.
“Well, I have to say I appreciate that I don’t feel that way around you. ”
“Tired?” Morgan asked, grinning.
“Yes. Without even realizing it, I’ve been more myself around you than I have in years. It’s…nice.”
Morgan’s grin widened. “I’m glad to hear it, sir.”
Cal ran a hand over his face. “I do wish you wouldn’t call me sir, though.”
“Why not?”
“It makes me feel old.”
Morgan laughed in response, making Cal feel bubbly and light. “I’ll stop calling you sir if you stop calling me Morgan. It’ll just be Cal and Jesse from now on. Deal?”
Cal felt a smile break out across his face at the sound of his name on Jesse’s lips. “Deal.”
As soon as they pulled up to the theater, Cal felt his persona shift smoothly back into place.
He stepped out of the car and offered his hand to Jesse.
The flash of cameras was as bright as daylight, but he couldn’t complain about how they lit up Jesse’s face as the other man took in the sight before him.
He offered his arm to his co-star, who gave a toothy smile as he took it. It was a movie star smile. The kind that ignited the spark of flash bulbs, which it did.
Cal faked a grimace. “Look at you. You don’t even need my help. You’re a natural.”
And Jesse, the real Jesse, quirked his mouth to the side in the way that Cal secretly loved, and said, “Just learning from the best, Cal.”
Cal decided he could get used to hearing Jesse say his name. And that felt like a very, very dangerous thing to get used to. So he turned on his own mega-kilowatt smile and said, “And don’t you forget it.”
They made their way slowly up the red carpet, stopping to have their photos taken, or to talk to reporters, or meet fans.
Cal didn’t let Jesse stand to the side as he signed autographs.
He made sure the fans knew that Jesse was the newest star in Powell’s cinema firmament.
They reacted as he expected they would: pushing their notebooks in Jesse’s direction, eager to get a bonafide autograph early in his career.
Jesse’s answering grin was more genuine than most stars’ were.
Cal suspected that if he kept that up, he’d be a very popular figure before long.
When they finally got into the theater lobby, there was more gladhanding to be done. He had to be seen kissing Edie’s cheek and greeting the Powells. He finally managed to find a somewhat quiet corner for Jesse and him to seek brief refuge, when Monty and Hilliard joined them.
Monty asked if the dancing had gotten better, and Cal was pleased to be able to admit that it had. When a theater usher came by to announce that the film was ready to begin, Cal was surprised that Hilliard and Monty chose to sit with them.
The picture was typical of an Edie Haywood flick. She wore a lot of low-cut, figure-hugging dresses designed to accentuate her curves. She had plenty of quippy lines, delivered with a healthy dose of smirks and side-eyes. The audience ate it up: another hit.
Afterwards, they followed everyone back out to the lobby.
“Well, good luck on another week of filming,” Cal said to the other couple.
Monty frowned. “You’re not getting time off for the holiday?”
“What holiday?”
“Wednesday is July Fourth,” Jesse said. “We get it off.”
Cal hadn’t bothered to look at his call sheets for the week, but he trusted Jesse’s word for it. “Well, then, I guess good luck on a half week of filming.”
“Maybe we should do something,” Monty suggested.
“I usually take Henrietta to the beach,” Hilliard said. “Nothing as fancy as that bash you threw last year.”
“Aw, that was a honey,” Monty said. He turned back to Hilliard. “Does that mean we are going to the beach on Wednesday?”
“Well, you already packed the swimsuit. It’d be a shame to put it to waste.” Cal thought he saw a slight blush on Hilliard’s cheeks. Hilliard smiled at Jesse. “Do you want to go to the beach with us, doll? I can’t imagine you have a lot of them back home.”
“I’ve never been to the beach,” Jesse admitted. “I’d love to come, and to see Henrietta again.”
“Good. Cal, you can pick up Mr. Morgan on your way, right?”
“Sure.”
“That’s settled then,” Hilliard said, looking pleased. “Ready to go home, sweetheart?”
“Ready,” Monty replied.
Cal and Jesse followed them out of the theater and into the waiting studio car.
“That’ll be fun,” Jesse said as soon as the car started back down the road.
“The beach? Yeah.”
Away from the prying eyes of Hollywood, just him and Jesse and—their friends.
Cal realized that Monty and Hilliard were another couple of people that he was truly himself around.
He wondered if they were part of Fred’s single-hand tally.
He gazed out the window at the passing lights and neon signs.
It wasn’t the vacation that he’d hoped to get, but somehow a day at the beach with three people who didn’t expect him to be a movie star was the most restful thing he could think of.
“I think it’ll be a very nice time,” he said.