built around himself.
‘I guess you have to worry more about that kind of stuff these days?’
‘I do.’ He wandered around the empty room, glancing briefly out through the windows clouded almost opaque with dust. ‘It’s one thing letting your imagination run riot in a script, but it’s another producing something all the way through onto the screen.’
Cassidy nodded, her gaze following him around the room. He was practically prowling. Almost restless, silently alert, his steps taking him in a wide circle around her. His gaze slid unerringly to tangle with hers at regular intervals, and it felt as if he was assessing her, trying to decide what to say and what not to. It felt vaguely predatory to her. But that was ridiculous…
Finding her mouth dry again, she swallowed, and then dampened her lips before asking, ‘So tell me what your company does.’
Pushing his hands into his pockets—a move Cassidy noticed he made a lot—Will continued circling her. ‘We’re responsible for the development and physical production of films and television shows. Sometimes we’re directly responsible for the raising of funding for a production—sometimes we do it through an intermediary. Then we sell the end product to the big studios when it’s done.’
‘You script some of them yourself?’
‘Some, yes.’
‘Is it easier to sell your scripts if you can produce them?’
‘Not always.’ The corners of his mouth tugged wryly.
He was so guarded. Had Hollywood taught him to be that way? she wondered. It was a tough industry, after all. The fact he’d been successful in it meant he’d had to learn to play hard ball at some point. But then Will had always been driven. He’d had a rougher upbringing than most. To go from fostercare kid, handed from home to home, to end up rich and successful in Hollywood was one heck of an achievement. Surely he knew that?
As jealous as she was of his success, in practically every corner of his life in comparison to how very ordinarily hers had turned out, Cassidy was incredibly proud of him. She just wished she could tell him. Not that he wanted or needed to hear it.
‘One of our productions is filming on one of the sound stages here. You want to go watch for a while?’
It was enough to put the smile back on her face. ‘Can we?’
Will looked amused by her enthusiasm. ‘Wouldn’t have offered if we couldn’t, would I?’
Oh, he could try and make her feel like a child for being so excited by everything he was showing her, but it wasn’t going to stop her feeling that way. She rushed to the door and yanked it open to walk into the bright sunshine, jerking her head and grinning at him. ‘Hurry up, then. We might miss some of the good stuff.’
An hour later she was sitting on a high folding chair, with her hands over the headphones on her ears, watching the small screen in front of her and listening to the dialogue from the actors mere feet from her. She wasn’t even distracted by the fact Will was in a similar chair close beside her—or that every time she glanced at him he was watching her with silent amusement glowing in his eyes. In fact the only thing that took some of the excitement away was when she foolishly allowed reality to seep in around the edges of the experience.
It was a one-off experience for her—and no matter how much joy she felt, it was tainted by the fact it was another fleeting glance of what could have been. Had she been brave enough or selfish enough to leave Ireland behind her, follow the man she loved to California, her life could have been as wrapped up in the world of make-believe as Will’s was. With luck, hard work and Will by her side, maybe she’d have made a go of it too. She could have been so happy. Maybe there would even have been a couple of those miniature Wills she kept seeing in her mind’s eye running around that beachfront house of his by now…
The thought made her heart twist painfully in her chest.
When the director yelled ‘Cut!’ she removed the headphones and swallowed away the lump in her throat as she handed them back to the sound engineer. ‘Thank you.’
‘No problem.’ He smiled at her before moving away.
Will’s low voice rumbled at her shoulder. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing’s wrong. Thanks again for this, Will—it’s been amazing.’ She flashed him a smile.
But he could still read her too well, and his eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. ‘Feeling sick again?’
Actually, she’d pretty much forgotten the tail-end of her cold as the day progressed, so she could answer that one with conviction. ‘No. I’m feeling much better, as it happens—haven’t even needed tablets.’
He continued studying her eyes. ‘Then what is it?’
If she lied and said she was tired there was the chance he might suggest they leave—if he didn’t see right through her the way he usually did when she lied—and she wasn’t ready to leave yet. It wasn’t as if she could tell him the truth, was it? How was she supposed to look him in the eye and tell him her active imagination had painted a picture of a life that wasn’t hers so vividly that it made her feel the loss of it like a bereavement?
So she avoided his gaze and changed the subject. ‘Is this a new show?’
‘End of the first season. It’s done well in the ratings. Already been renewed.’ He waited for her to glance at him again before he added, ‘We’ll go take a look at the editing department next. Special effects are done somewhere else.’
Cassidy found herself mesmerised by the softness in his deep voice. And her errant tongue couldn’t help but ask, ‘Why are you doing this?’
Dark brows lifted in question.
‘I thought you were mad keen to get the script done.’
He shrugged. ‘Thought it might help.’
When he continued looking her straight in the eye, Cassidy had a moment of fear that he might know how much of a fraud she was. Was that what this whole behind-the-scenes day trip was? A way to try and get her creative juices flowing again? In fairness, it was a pretty great plan if that had been his aim. But if it had how, exactly, had he known? Had she been so transparent? Had the scenes she’d worked on with him been so dreadful in Hollywood terms? If they had, why hadn’t he said so? If he knew what a phoney she was why hadn’t he said something? Bringing her all the way across the world to allow her to make a fool of herself when in all probability he could more than likely have just bought her out of the contract…
‘You were always as fascinated by this stuff as I was.’ He stared into her eyes for another long moment, then looked away, turning his profile to her as he got to his feet. ‘Seeing it should keep it real in your mind while we work on the script. And if we can cut a few corners by filming some scenes here instead of on location then we can free up some of the budget for better effects.’
Ah. Right. Business. That made more sense to her than him doing it because he knew how much she would love it. It put her mind at ease that he hadn’t seen right through her charade. She didn’t feel any better, though—it would have been nice if he’d cared enough to do it just because he knew the pleasure she would get from it.
But
