Grounded By You (9 page)

“I’ll call you Saturday morning,” he promised.

As much as he wanted to pull her into his arms and tell her with his lips how much he was looking forward to seeing her again, he didn’t want to push his luck, especially with the looming arrival of Mr. St. John. He brushed a quick kiss across her forehead and then stepped out the door.

He didn’t look back as he strode to the elevator. He was so engrossed in the memories of the last hour that he didn’t even think about trying to duck his head as he left Millie’s building. He did notice the black town car sitting at the curb and a man exit the back seat just as his foot hit the sidewalk.

Sam couldn’t help but pause because he had no doubt who the man was. Grey hair streaked the man’s temples, and he was preoccupied with a phone call. Sam could see where Millie got her height as the man easily topped six feet and then some. Dressed in a long black overcoat and three-piece suit, Mr. St. John cut an imposing appearance. The man looked up at Sam as he passed him, and Sam saw that he was just as quickly dismissed. Then he heard his name called out.

Victoria warned that it would take him awhile before he’d be able to tune out the automatic inclination to turn whenever he heard someone yell his name. Until that time, he was going to be a perfect target for the shutterbugs. He felt the man behind him turn at the same time and then there was the flash of a camera in the gloomy afternoon.

“What the…?” he heard the older man exclaim behind him.

Sam whipped up the cowl of his hoodie and dug his hands into his pockets, cursing his luck. Then he walked as quickly as he could down the street. He was going to have to be more careful, or else he’d drag Millie into his bizarre menagerie of a life before he knew it. After everything that she had told him about her family, he had a feeling that was the last thing that she’d want.

Millie’s heart raced as she paced her small apartment. It was unlike her father to make an unscheduled visit, especially to a neighborhood that he would consider “slumming it.” She heard the buzzer just minutes after Sam walked out the door, and breathed a sigh of relief that she had managed to avoid that disaster. She felt certain that if her father ever crossed paths with Sam under the wrong circumstances, like him being in her apartment in the middle of the afternoon, her father would say terrible things and Sam would never speak to her again.

Her fingers crept to her lips as a small smile crossed her face. She wasn’t willing to think too much about what had happened yet other than it made her feel happier than she could recall being in a very long time. It was as if Sam’s kiss unlocked something within her that she didn’t even know was hidden away. She felt more confident now and certain of what she was doing. Talking with Sam about her art convinced her of that.

She heard the knock on the door, and she ran a quick hand over her hair and down her clothes before approaching the door. She wished for more time, but then realized that there was never enough time to prepare for being around her father. She wouldn’t know until the line of inquiry began what kind of mood he was in or what other treats he might have in store for her.

She plastered a smile on her face and then swung the door open. “Dad! It’s so great to see you.”

James St. John stood there for a moment looking her up and down and then he peered over her shoulder into her apartment. “It’s good to see you’re alive, Millie. I was beginning to worry.”

Ushering him into the apartment, Millie felt the nervous energy in her limbs starting to take over. “Can I get you something to drink?”

Her father stood in the middle of the apartment and seemed to be taking everything in as he slowly turned. “No, I can’t stay long. I have a meeting in the financial district in an hour and traffic is horrible.”

“What do I owe the pleasure?” Millie said, sitting on a stool next to the small breakfast bar. She used to know exactly how to handle her father, but when she went off to college something changed. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but he was more distant and even harder to read than ever.

“Can’t a man want to see his only daughter?” James asked. “When your mother told me that you were insisting on renting your own place instead of coming home I was understandably curious about the reason.”

“Josh rented his own place when he came home from college,” Millie said. “I’m a grown-up now, Dad. It’s time that I had my own space.”

Her father looked uncomfortable, as if the small space was bending in on him.

“Why don’t you have a seat?”

“No, thanks. Like I said, I can’t stay long,” James replied. Then he finally turned to face her. “Josh keeps telling me that you are going to come into work any day now. It’s been over a week. I got the sense that he was stalling and covering for you. Is there any reason why I’d feel that way? What aren’t you telling me?”

Millie had hoped that whatever was going on at work would have distracted her father from the fact that she hadn’t started her new job yet. Apparently, that was not the case.

“I’m still settling in,” she said.

James looked around the apartment. “You look pretty settled in to me.”

She was trapped, and she knew it. It was time to come clean, and she could hear the echoes of Josh’s warnings in her head. But once upon a time, she told her father everything. It was part of growing up, being able to handle confrontation effectively. Perhaps it was time to put her negotiation skills to the test.

Millie made her decision, hoping that, in the process, she wasn’t about to give her father a heart attack.

“Give me a second,” she said. She made her way to the closet where she and Sam hid her paintings. She took out the one on top, which was the one that represented her family’s weekend getaways so many years ago. It seemed fitting.

She cautiously walked back out into the main room. Her father stood there checking something on his phone. She cleared her throat to get his attention, and then she turned the canvas around.

“I want to be an artist, Dad. This is one of my paintings. I don’t expect or want a thing from you other than your support. It would mean a lot to me.”

She watched as James looked from her to the canvas and back. His expression alternated between shock and anger. “This is a hobby. Not a career.”

Millie felt her hands begin to shake, so she put the canvas down before he saw how nervous she was. She took a deep breath. “I spent a lot of time getting feedback from my teachers and talking to the people in the career counseling center. I understand what I’m getting into, and the risks associated with it. That’s why I reached out to Evelyn Ward. If she likes my work, she said she’ll give me a small show to test the waters. I’ve thought this through from every angle. I know what I’m doing.”

“You aren’t going to change your mind?” James said gruffly.

Millie shook her head. She paused to wait until she felt she could speak again without her voice quivering. “My mind’s made up. I need to give this a chance.”

James straightened his jacket, avoiding her eyes. “Josh said you know about the company dinner tomorrow night. Nine o’clock sharp. Don’t be late. I’ll show myself out.”

Millie watched in shock as her father stormed out of the apartment. The door rattled behind him. She looked down at the painting at her feet.

“Well, that went well,” she said mirthlessly to the empty room.

It was Friday night, but Sam wasn’t feeling fine. In fact, he felt exhausted. The last thing he wanted to do was go out and be around a bunch of people again, but he was supposed to pick Delaney up within the hour and he was running late.

He had hoped to hear from Millie about how her conversation went with her father, but it had been silent on that front. He knew that he promised to call her in the morning, and he didn’t want to bother her or come across like some kind of stalker, so he left it alone. Knowing that he’d see her the next day was the only thing keeping him going.

“You’re looking tired, kid. I can see the bags under your eyes, and that won’t do. Make sure you are getting plenty of sleep. Things are just getting started,” Victoria warned him that afternoon. “It’s a big lifestyle adjustment, but you’ll do great once you get your feet under you. Don’t worry, I’ll be here with you every step of the way.”

It was a decidedly maternal thing for Victoria to say, which made Sam slightly uncomfortable, but he appreciated the sentiment nonetheless. In the end, he was thankful that Victoria was with him through the whirlwind round of press interviews. She gave him immediate feedback on what to do and say, and helped him round out some answers where she felt he was thin on the description.

“I’m making you a star. Trust me,” she said confidently every time he questioned her on it.

And he did.

Now, sitting in the backseat of the town car as it approached Delaney’s building, he felt the coils of tension inside finally starting to loosen. He found that he was eager to speak to his new co-star and compare notes. So far all of the interviews had been with just Sam, but he knew that soon they’d start putting them together. Delaney had already done the rounds of interviews that he was currently going through, and she might be able to offer him some good advice.

He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to go up to her door to get her, or wait in the car. In the end, Delaney saved him the guesswork. As the car pulled up to the curb outside of her building, she stepped out of the entryway and made her way to the door.

Delaney looked drop dead gorgeous. Her long chestnut hair fell in soft, curled waves around her shoulders, and she was wearing a fitted black dress that hugged the curves that he knew many woman envied. A small black cloak dressed her shoulders, and she moved with a confidence that made people take notice. Sam had no doubt that Delaney Rose was meant to be a movie star.

The driver opened the door for her, and she slid inside with a friendly smile. Sam smelled her perfume. It was light and musky, but not overpowering. Every man in the room would be looking at her
all evening, and probably hating Sam’s guts. If only they knew the truth.

“Hey,” she said. “Thanks for being on time. I hate waiting.”

“Sure.” There was an awkward moment of silence. “You look nice,” he said.

“Thanks, you don’t look to shabby yourself,” Delaney said as she settled into the seat.

Victoria sent over an entire new wardrobe for all of his press interviews, and even suggested the outfit he now wore for dinner that evening. It was a navy blue suit with a light rose colored collared shirt underneath. She told him not to worry about a tie and to leave the top two buttons open. Formal with a dash of insubordination she called it. Sam had a feeling the outfit cost more than what he made the last year in his odd jobs to support himself through school.

It was funny to him that he never worried about things like money or social standing until he went to college. His parents weren’t rich, but they had comfortable jobs and he never felt as if he wanted for anything. There wasn’t enough left over to help much with college though, so what he hadn’t been able to pay for through scholarships he paid using loans and part-time jobs. Living in the city had opened his eyes to how far below the norm he really was.

“I saw a few of your interviews,” Delaney said. “They were really good. You’ve obviously got a good coach.”

“My agent,” Sam said with a sheepish smile. Delaney would know that much of what was said and done during those press interviews was all for show and for the express intention of building the right kind of publicity for the film. It wasn’t about
who Sam really was, it was about creating the right kind of illusion that everyone expected from the guy tagged to play his character.

“You’re really lucky to have Victoria Pierce in your corner,” Delaney said. “I’ve heard nothing but good things about her.”

“So I’ve been told,” Sam said. “This all feels like a whirlwind though. It’s surreal how one day nobody has any idea who you are, and the next it seems like everyone is staring at you wherever you go.”

“I’m no expert, but I’m getting used to it,” Delaney said. “That’s why I’m really glad we’re doing this. I was afraid they were going to cast some cocky jerk
who figured he knew everything. It’s kind of nice that you don’t have a lot of experience either.”

“I still can’t believe they picked me,” Sam said. “I’m a nobody. Other than that one
slasher film four years ago, I don’t have anything close to this on my resume.”

“I told them you were perfect,” Delaney said, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. You may not realize it, but when you started your scene with me during the audition, it was like you flipped a switch on and I could see the transformation.” She snapped her fingers.  “In an instant, you were Jackson. I was completely mesmerized, and then I got embarrassed, and you made me forget my line. That doesn’t happen often.”

Sam was stunned. He remembered that small pause during the audition where it looked like Delaney froze, but he thought it was because he had said the wrong line. He had no idea it was because of the affect of his acting on her.

Delaney continued. “I’d been trying so hard to immerse myself in Camilla’s character, but when I read the lines with you, I felt her. I felt the rush of emotions of a girl who realizes that she loves a man who is forever unattainable. It was crushing and exhilarating all at the same time. I read with what seemed like a million other actors that day, and nobody else pulled me into her character the way that you did.”