She was obviously missing something. Frowning, she turned her head and examined the room more closely. Nope—it still looked like a mailroom to her. Not a particularly well-organised one either.
‘Pick a letter. Or an e-mail—doesn’t matter.’ He stepped closer to her. ‘Any one you want.’
Okay, she’d play. Glancing at him from the corner of her eye, she made a big deal out of waving her hand in circles before closing her eyes and feeling around for a random selection—not helping with any invisible filing system he might have.
When she opened her eyes and held it up in front of her face, the corners of Will’s mouth were tugging upward. ‘Read it.’
Dragging her gaze from his, she slipped the letter from the opened envelope and began to read, her eyes widening when she realized what it was. Lifting her chin, she stared at the rest of the papers—then at Will.
The green of his eyes radiated warmth, and his deep voice lowered as he told her, ‘Pick another one.’
She did—and got an e-mail that made her throat tighten.
Will’s voice was lower and closer when he spoke again. ‘Keep going.’
‘All of them?’ Cassidy lifted her chin and silently cleared her throat, so her voice didn’t sound so strangled. ‘This whole room is fan mail for our movie?’
‘Yes. The studio forwarded it here to begin with, but when it started increasing we changed the address on the website. We get mail from all over the world.’ He searched her eyes and smiled. ‘They call themselves the Fortune Hunters.’
For the first time in her life Cassidy was at a complete loss for words.
So Will kept going, his gaze locked on hers. ‘It started with message boards. Then they launched their own site and it grew from there. There are role-playing games, conspiracy theories—some of them have all the lines memorised so when they have a screening they can join in. They even dress up as the characters at conventions…’
With her emotions threatening to overwhelm her, Cassidy forcibly dragged her gaze from his and reached for another letter. ‘What’s this one?’
Will held an edge so he could read it. ‘California’s Fortune Hunters. There are chapters all over the place now, but California was the first. They organise a yearly charity screening of the movie, and let us know when it is so we can send memorabilia to auction on the night.’
‘I had no idea.’
‘I didn’t think you did.’ He waited for her to look at him before he told her. ‘The movie may have tanked at the box office, Cass, but it’s been successful in ways no one could ever have predicted. It’s brought people together—it’s even been the catalyst for a few weddings. There’s a community of amazing people out there who are making a difference to other people’s lives with their charitable causes through it. Does that sound like a failure to you?’
Cassidy shook her head.
‘No.’ Will smiled one of those smiles as he reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. ‘If you didn’t get enough of a self-confidence boost from the reaction to the pitch we just did, then maybe this will do it.’
She still couldn’t speak.
When Will’s gaze dropped briefly to her mouth she held her breath, her heart thundering against her breastbone as she waited to see if he was going to kiss her…
But he dropped his hand and stepped back. ‘Read through some of them while I make a few calls, if you like. There’s a coffee machine down the hall. Then I’ll come back and drive us home, so we can work on the changes we agreed in the meeting.’
She nodded. Then watched as he turned round and opened the door. The first tear slipped onto her lower lashes after he’d disappeared. It wasn’t just because of what he’d shown her and told her, or the fact he had known how much she’d needed to see it. It was because he’d used the word ‘home’.
As if it was her home too…
The thing was, somewhere along the way, his house had started to feel more like home than the one she had in Ireland. It would take strength to leave and close the door on their relationship for once and for all. She knew she’d be leaving even more of herself behind than he’d taken with him the first time.
They didn’t go straight to work on the script revisions when they got back to Will’s house. Cassidy couldn’t allow herself to think of it as ‘home’. She’d already allowed herself to get too comfortable in her surroundings as it was.
Unusually—since she’d arrived anyway—it was raining outside: hot, heavy, humid rain. So they had a takeaway Moroccan dinner inside—plates of a half-dozen dishes she’d never tried before spread out on a coffee table in front of them while they sat on one of Will’s large sofas.
‘I’m curious about your life,’ he said.
‘Why?’
‘I can’t ask you a simple question?’
‘Maybe I’m curious why you need to know.’ Cassidy was fully aware of the verbal game of poker they were playing over dessert, but she wasn’t backing down.
‘I thought we’d decided we’re friends again?’
She avoided his gaze, playing with the ice cream in her tub. ‘Okay, we’re friends.’
‘Friends talk about stuff. Try me.’
It took a long while for her to make a decision, and Cassidy couldn’t help but smile when he lifted dark brows in challenge. She knew he knew the reason she was reluctant to talk about her life was because it involved emotion. She knew he knew that she knew Will didn’t talk about emotion. End of story. He’d rather chew off his own arm. So it was, therefore, a case of what was sauce for the goose…
But this change for the better in their relationship had allowed them to start getting to know each other again, and she was reluctant to put a dampener on that. Especially when they were both smiling more, and working together had got easier, and he’d been so thoughtful of late…
The ice cream took several violent digs before she sighed heavily. ‘One hint of anything resembling sympathy, Will Ryan…’
When she glanced up he was continuing to smile his patented humouring smile at her.
She frowned. ‘You’re doing it already.’
‘I’m not.’ He pasted a serious expression on his face, folding his arms and jerking his chin at her. ‘Go on. I’m listening.’
‘I hate this. I tell you about my life and it’s just going to sound pathetically ordinary compared to yours.’
‘Not necessarily. Most of my life is more ordinary than people might think.’
Cassidy snorted softly in disbelief. ‘Like what, for instance? Hanging out with movie stars? Working in the motion picture industry? The fact you attend the Oscars every year? The millionaire’s beach house you live in?’
