Slow Dance With The Best Man

CHAPTER THREE

IN THE END, the nap had to wait.

Noah placed the script reverently on the bed in front of him and reached for his phone without ever looking away from the cover sheet. He didn’t want to break the magic spell the writing had cast over him before he spoke to his agent. He wanted to live in this feeling—in the brilliance and excitement of a perfect story. The way he felt he knew every one of the characters inside out as if he was the characters.

This film—this was the one he’d been waiting for.

He couldn’t remember being this excited about a part since... Well, since he’d first moved to LA with Sally.

Swallowing hard at the memory, he pushed it aside and punched the right combination on the screen to call Tessa, his agent.

‘I want this part,’ he said, the moment she picked up.

‘Noah?’ She sounded sleepy. Noah did a quick mental calculation of the time difference and winced. Then he decided that, since she was awake now anyway, he might as well continue.

‘Eight Days After,’ he said. ‘I want the part. The lead. None of this supporting actor stuff. I want the main attraction.’

‘Really?’ Tessa was awake now, if the pep in her voice was anything to go by. ‘You think you’re right for Marcus?’

‘Definitely,’ Noah replied, ignoring the surprise in her voice. ‘Trust me. They want me in that role. I will knock it out of the park.’ There was a pause on the other line, and Noah’s confidence took a slight dip. But not for long. He hadn’t got where he was by letting criticism knock him back. ‘What? What did they say about me? You might as well just tell me—you know I’ll hear it eventually anyway.’ That was how Hollywood gossip worked. Confidences were never kept, and secrets always got out. You just had to front it out and live with whatever people had to say about you, Noah had found. He just didn’t let the gibes and the comments get past his defences any more. They didn’t hurt if he didn’t let himself feel them.

‘Stefan, the director...he’s worried you might not have the, well, depth for the part.’

‘For Marcus?’

‘For the best friend part.’

Noah blinked. ‘The best friend has no depth. He’s basically there to lighten the mood so that no one slits their wrists in the movie theatres.’ If Stefan didn’t believe he could even pull off that part, Noah had a harder path to climb than even he’d anticipated.

‘Still. This is a very different movie to the sort you’ve been in before.’

‘Lately,’ Noah countered.

‘Since you became an actor anyone has heard of,’ Tessa shot back, and Noah winced. Had it really been that long since he’d made a film that mattered? He knew that it had. He’d not taken on a part with substance since he’d got his big break in a summer blockbuster.

So why now? Why this one?

Noah shook his head. It didn’t matter why. It only mattered that he get it. One way or another.

‘What will it take to convince him?’ he asked.

‘That you can play the best friend?’

‘No.’

Tessa sighed. ‘Look, Noah, I think they’ve already got someone in the frame for Marcus—and no, before you ask, I don’t know who. They’re being cagey, though, so that probably means someone big.’

‘Someone they’re not sure of, or they’d be telling everyone.’

‘Maybe. Why does this matter so much to you?’ Tessa asked. ‘I mean, you’ve been perfectly happy for years playing the big budget hero, the action guy or whatever.’

‘You mean as a more looks than talent kind of actor,’ Noah translated. He’d heard the talk as well as she had.

‘You said it, not me. But yeah. So what’s changed?’

Noah sank back against the pillows on the four-poster bed, trying to find the right words. ‘It’s...it’s this script. I mean, I knew I was ready for a change. It’s been seven years since...’ Since he’d taken a part that made him look too deep, search too far to find the character. Since he’d done anything more than drift through his roles without having to think too much about the emotions behind them. Since he’d risked feeling at all.

‘Since what happened to Sally.’ Tessa was one of the few people who knew that story. One of the many reasons Noah had stuck with her as his agent even after he had agencies banging on his door wanting to sign him.

‘Yeah. But it’s more than that. There’s something about this script, Tess.’ Something that made his heart race, made him want to reach for something more, something better, something deeper, for the first time in a long time. ‘The way it talks about the human condition, about loss, and connection and love...’

‘I know,’ Tessa said quietly. ‘That was why I was surprised you want to do it. They’re usually exactly the things you try to avoid.’

That was the problem with having the same agent for almost a decade. They got to know you—and your weaknesses—too well.

‘Yeah, well, maybe it’s time for a change.’ In career terms, if not personally.

‘Okay, be honest. Is this about that interview last month?’

‘You know I don’t let those things get to me.’ Even if they had said that his films were getting more brainless by the season.

‘That one would get to anyone. There’s no shame in wanting to make better movies, Noah.’

‘Exactly!’ Better movies. That was the goal. And totally achievable without opening himself up to all the things he’d built walls against years before. ‘So you’ll get me the part?’

‘I’ll get you a video call with the director,’ Tessa corrected. ‘That’s the most I can do. Then it’s up to you. But you’re really going to have to blow them away.’ The warning was clear in her voice. They didn’t want him for the part. If he wanted it...he’d have to show them they couldn’t do it right without him.

‘I will.’

‘I mean it. This part needs real feeling and—’

‘You don’t think I can do it,’ Noah realised. ‘And here I thought agents were supposed to be an actor’s biggest cheerleader.’

‘I can dig out the skirt and pom-poms if you like.’ Tessa sighed again. ‘Look, I know you used to be able to do it. That’s why I signed you.’

‘And I thought it was for my pretty face.’

‘That too,’ she admitted. ‘But mostly it was your talent. The way you connected with an audience. But these days... Noah, you don’t even connect with the women you sleep with. Be honest. Do you really think you can do this? Look deeper inside yourself and find all that good stuff I haven’t seen in years?’

Could he? Noah wasn’t sure. ‘Honestly, I’m not even sure those parts are still there.’

‘Well, if you want this role, you better hope they are.’

‘You’ll get me the video call?’

‘I’ll get you the call,’ Tessa promised. ‘The rest is up to you. But Noah...’

‘What?’

‘Your acting ability wasn’t Stefan’s only concern,’ Tessa said.

‘It should be the only thing that matters,’ Noah shot back. ‘So what? What else?’

‘He doesn’t...how did he put it?’ Tessa took a breath and started again. ‘Stefan wants the film to be the focus, the thing everyone is talking about. Not your love life.’

‘I don’t have a love life,’ Noah pointed out.

He hadn’t been in love since Sally died. How could he be?

‘You have women. Lots of women, whether you love them or not.’

‘I don’t.’ Why did he have to say it? Tessa already knew. But somehow it felt important to be clear. As if he’d be betraying Sally if he let there be any doubt.

And he already had enough guilt to deal with, knowing he hadn’t lived up to being the best friend that she needed.

‘You go out with a lot of women and you’re seen doing it. People take photos. The photos show up in magazines, on the Internet, and people talk about them.’ Tessa’s words were clipped, her tone impatient. ‘You know this, Noah, and you know the effect it has. Don’t be obtuse.’

‘The effect it has? The way it drives up ticket sales, you mean?’ Because being seen, getting out there, that was as much a part of his job as showing up and playing a part. In some ways it felt like just another part he was playing: Noah Cross, Film Star.

‘Not this time,’ Tessa said. ‘This isn’t the sort of film you’re used to, Noah. Stefan wants people talking about the meaning, the theme, the soul of the film. Not who you’re sleeping with tonight.’

‘So you’re saying, take the part and give up sex?’ Because if that was the case... No, he still wanted the part.

‘I’m saying, try a little discretion for once. Okay?’

Discretion. That he could do. ‘Fine.’

For a moment, Noah had an image of bright red hair and sparkling eyes. Eloise. With her arresting beauty, she was anything but discreet. Anyone would remember seeing him with her.

Apparently, this wedding had just got a whole lot less fun.

‘I’ll be discreet,’ he promised. ‘I’ll be so discreet you won’t even know I’m here.’

Tessa snorted. ‘I’ll believe it when I see it.’

* * *

By late afternoon, Eloise felt as if her feet might fall off. She’d known the high heels were a mistake. Normally she wore low wedges or boots, but today she’d felt the need for something a little smarter. They weren’t even all that high—certainly lower and more sensible than Melissa’s expensive spike-heeled boots—but apparently running around Morwen Hall in them all day had beaten her feet into submission. She was ready to retire to the tiny bedrooms they kept for staff members working big events and soak her feet in the not quite full-size bath for an hour or two. Preferably while eating chocolate and sipping red wine.

But, instead, she still had a few more guests to welcome and show to their rooms—including the brother of the groom, who still didn’t know his room had been taken over by Riley himself. In all the chaos, Eloise still hadn’t found a solution to that either. Unless he wanted her room, and she’d just have to sleep behind the reception desk. She certainly couldn’t risk going home, not while Melissa was on the premises. As much as Eloise trusted her deputy manager, she wouldn’t leave anyone to deal with Melissa alone.

Wearily, Eloise stepped back behind the reception desk and, once she was sure no one could see, slipped her feet from her shoes and let the cool stone floor soothe her feet through her tights. That was better.

For a moment, she honestly believed she might get a small break in the craziness of the day to get herself together before the nightmare of the welcome drinks that evening.

Until Melissa’s scream cut through the air.

Eloise let her eyes flutter closed just for a moment as she steeled herself for whatever was about to happen. When she opened them again, Melissa was bustling across the lobby, a towel wrapped around her hair, wearing a coat and boots over black silky leggings and a matching top that Melissa obviously classed as loungewear, and probably cost more than Eloise earned in a month.

‘Is something the matter, Melissa?’ Eloise asked in her calmest, everything-will-be-fine voice. Inside, she just prayed that whatever the problem was, it wasn’t the Gatehouse. If Melissa had a problem with the Bridal Suite they really were in trouble.

‘It’s Cassidy!’ Melissa shrieked. ‘She just called from Aspen! She’s broken her leg on the slopes!’

‘Cassidy,’ Eloise repeated, her mind running through the guest list again in the hope that this might mean she had a spare room after all... ‘Wait, your maid of honour Cassidy?’

‘Yes!’ Eloise winced as the pitch of Melissa’s voice reached parts only dogs could hear.

Okay, that was a problem. But Eloise was sure one of Melissa’s other celebrity bridesmaids would be willing to step up to the job. And in the meantime... ‘Does that mean she and her family won’t be attending the wedding after all?’

And I can give their room to Riley’s brother?

Melissa gave her one of those were-you-born-this-stupid looks that Eloise had learned to hate during their childhood. ‘Of course they’re coming. Well, not Cassidy—apparently she can’t fly. But Dillon—her husband—will still be here. He says he’s bringing an “old friend” actually.’ The way she said it, Eloise could actually hear the air quotes around the words. She tried not to pull a face, but clearly she was never going to understand celebrity marriages. Who brought their mistress to a friend’s wedding when their wife was laid up in hospital?

A melodic chiming noise filled the lobby and Melissa shoved one perfectly manicured hand into her coat pocket and pulled out her phone.

‘Kerry? Thank God you called back. Did you hear about Cassidy? Well, what do I do? When are you getting here, anyway? Tomorrow! I need a new maid of honour before tomorrow!’

Kerry, Eloise recalled from many contract negotiations and emails, was Melissa’s agent. Why she was the first port of call in a maid of honour crisis, Eloise wasn’t sure. But she suspected it was another one of those things she didn’t understand about Hollywood.

‘Someone who knew me back when? You think we should play up the “local girl made good” angle?’ Melissa asked, not bothering to lower her voice at all. ‘Isn’t it enough that I came back to this dump in the first place?’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Fine, fine. If that’s what you think will sell. Yeah, I’ll ask her. Okay. Bye.’

Dump? Had Melissa really just called Morwen Hall a dump? It might not have been the peak of luxury ten years ago, but these days it was spectacular.

She was so annoyed she was still grinding her teeth in annoyance when Melissa turned back to the reception desk and said, ‘Right, change of plan. You’re my new maid of honour.’

Eloise blinked. ‘What?’

‘You.’ Melissa pointed at Eloise, jabbing a nail against her breastbone. ‘You’re going to put on the very expensive pretty dress I’ve already paid for and walk down the aisle in front of me. You’re going to smile for the cameras. You’re going to say wonderful things about me, and tell the reporter covering this wedding how close we were growing up, and how Hollywood hasn’t changed me at all. Okay?’

‘Why?’ Eloise asked, baffled. Then, as she stared down Melissa’s frown, she figured it out. ‘This is because of all those articles lately, isn’t it? The ones calling you a diva who’s forgotten where you came from.’

Melissa sniffed. ‘I don’t read that sort of trashy magazine.’

‘Isn’t it the same one that’s covering your wedding?’ Melissa didn’t answer that one. ‘So, let me guess. Your agent thinks that if you have an old friend as part of the wedding party it’ll show how down-to-earth you still are, with your million-dollar wedding at a five-star hotel.’

‘Something like that.’

‘Yeah, I’m not doing it.’ Not a chance. It was bad enough that she had to put Morwen Hall at the disposal of an ungrateful Melissa and her celebrity mates. The last thing Eloise wanted was to have to be part of this whole debacle. ‘Why don’t you ask Laurel? She is your half-sister.’

Melissa pulled a face. ‘No way. Besides, she wouldn’t fit in the dress. Have you seen that girl’s cleavage?’ Eloise had, and was rather envious of it, actually, but she didn’t think that would dissuade Melissa.

‘The chances are I won’t fit in the dress either,’ Eloise pointed out instead. She knew she was on the skinny side of slender, because that was just how her body and metabolism worked—especially when she was rushing around Morwen Hall all day, every day. But Hollywood celebs were a different category of thin, weren’t they? And Eloise definitely wasn’t that.

‘Oh, you will,’ Melissa assured her. ‘Cassidy had to put weight on for her last part, if you can believe it. Something about fat girls being funnier.’ Well, that sounded like a film Eloise would go out of her way to avoid. ‘So we’ll do the dress fitting first thing in the morning then.’

‘Wait! I didn’t say I’d do it!’ But Melissa was already walking away, her panic about her friend apparently forgotten now the role had been filled. ‘I already have a job at this wedding, remember? I’m in charge of the venue!’

‘Then you’d better find someone to take over for you. You’ll be fine,’ Melissa called back over her shoulder as she headed back towards the Gatehouse. ‘Just do everything I say.’

‘Yeah, because that always worked out so well when we were kids,’ Eloise grumbled as the front door swung shut. That was how she’d walked in on her mother kissing the first proper, grown-up boyfriend Eloise had ever had, a week before she’d left for university. Because Melissa had sent her down into the prop room at the theatre to retrieve something or other she obviously didn’t really need. Afterwards, Melissa had claimed that she couldn’t possibly have known that they were down there, but really, wasn’t it all for Eloise’s own good anyway? She’d practically done her a favour...especially since everyone had been talking about them for weeks behind Eloise’s back. Melissa had truly believed that she’d done the right thing sending her down there to find out the truth for herself.

And maybe she had. She’d certainly cemented Eloise’s decision to never trust another actor. If only she’d also warned her about business students.

Maid of honour for Melissa Sommers. How on earth had this happened? And the worst part was—

‘Sounds like we’ll be spending even more time together.’ Noah’s voice was warm, deep and far too close to her ear.

Eloise sighed. That. That was the worst thing. Because the maid of honour was expected to pair up with the best man, and that would not make her resolution to stay away from Noah Cross any easier at all.

She turned and found him standing directly behind her, close enough that if she’d stepped back a centimetre or two she’d have been in his arms. Suddenly she was glad he’d alerted her to his presence with his words.

She shifted further away and tried to look like a professional, instead of a teenager with a crush. Looking up at him, she felt the strange heat flush over her skin again at his gorgeousness. Then she focused, and realised he was frowning.

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