Читать книгу Her Determined Husband - Kathryn Ross, Kathryn Ross - Страница 5
CHAPTER ONE
ОглавлениеIT WAS a fact of life that when you were running late for an appointment the traffic lights were always on red and you could never find a parking space. Then, when you did find a space, some arrogant so-and-so stole it! Kirsten glared angrily at the man in the snazzy convertible Mercedes who had just blatantly snuck into her coveted spot.
He turned and their eyes connected, and in that brief instant Kirsten felt numb with shock. It was her ex-husband, Cal McCormick.
As she drove on past and the eye contact was severed she immediately doubted her senses. No! It couldn’t have been Cal, she tried to reassure herself. Cal wasn’t in Hollywood; he wasn’t even in America. He was still working in England, wasn’t he?
She glanced in her rear-view mirror and saw the man climb out of the car. He was tall, with a good physique and dark hair, but she was at a distance now and it was too hard to say if it was Cal or not.
Forgetting the fact that she was rushing for an important luncheon appointment with her agent, Kirsten swung her old car once more around the block and went back for another look.
But the red car was locked up by the time she got back and there was no sign of the handsome man in the pale grey suit.
There were a million good-looking guys in LA and that man wasn’t Cal, she told herself soothingly. A space became vacant further down the street and she drove into it with a shaky feeling of relief. This wasn’t the first time that she had thought she had glimpsed her ex-husband. It was two years since they had split up, but in the aftermath of their divorce she had imagined she had seen him on quite a few occasions…even whilst knowing full well that it couldn’t be him because Cal was thousands of miles away on another shore with another woman.
But she was over all that now, and definitely over Cal McCormick. And this was no day for her to go to pieces, she told herself firmly. Things were going right for her now. She had auditioned for a leading role in an up-and-coming movie and out of hundreds of applicants had got the part. Her contract was signed and today she was to meet her co-star, Jack Boyd, and her agent, Gerry Woods, for lunch. This was the day that her fortunes changed, her bank balance reverted to the black and her ex-husband was wiped clear off her memory bank for ever.
She ran a smoothing hand over her long blonde hair, glanced at herself in her mirror to reassure herself that she looked her best, and then, taking a deep breath, stepped out onto the sidewalk.
From his vantage point of the best table in the exclusive restaurant, Cal watched Kirsten walk down the sidewalk towards him. She hadn’t changed at all, he thought. Even viewed through a smoked-glass haze, she looked vibrantly fabulous. She was wearing a stylish white trouser suit that probably came from one of the designer boutiques in the town, and despite the fact that she was tall she wore incredibly high heels. Her thick blonde hair was loose and looked slightly windswept.
There were lots of good-looking blondes in Hollywood but Kirsten had something different about her. Maybe it was the fact that her hair was a natural colour of spun gold, maybe the fact that her figure was all her own as well, no silicone implants required for that slender, yet very shapely body. Or maybe it was just the quiet intelligence that shone from her eyes when she looked up. Whatever it was, she still had a style that held his attention. He hurriedly returned his gaze to the menu as she reached the doorway of the restaurant, before she could catch him watching her.
He heard her accent, clearly discernible, from the front reservation desk. Even though she had been living in the States from the age of eleven, the low husky voice still held the traces of her English accent. It brought back a flood of memories.
Then she stood next to his table and he could smell the scent of her perfume, warm, familiar, very evocative.
He stood up slowly and their eyes met for the second time that morning.
‘Hello, Kirsten,’ he smiled.
‘Cal…’ His name sounded uncomfortable on her lips and to say she looked shocked was putting it mildly. She glanced over at the waiter. ‘I think there has been some mistake,’ she said, sounding slightly breathless. ‘I’m supposed to be meeting Gerry Woods; he made a table reservation for twelve-thirty?’ She looked past the waiter and around the restaurant, desperately searching for her agent. It was hard to see who was in the room because the tables were strategically placed for maximum privacy behind tall plants and exotic flower arrangements. The fact that she was in a blind panic didn’t help either.
‘This is Mr Woods’s table.’ The waiter pulled out a chair for her and waited politely for her to seat herself.
She looked back at the starched white tablecloth with its cut glasses and delicate orchid flower arrangement, then up into Cal’s eyes again.
‘Gerry has been unavoidably detained, but he should be here soon.’ Cal sounded nonchalantly at ease, as if their meeting was an everyday occurrence, when in fact they hadn’t seen each other for two years. Well, two years, one month and three weeks to be exact, she thought, hating herself for still carrying that useless information in her brain.
Cal sat back down and she was left with the decision of whether to sit with him, or to cause a scene and leave. Only because Gerry would be joining them soon, and she wanted to find out what was going on, she chose the former.
The waiter went through an elaborate routine of taking her napkin and shaking it out to place it over her knee, then he handed her a menu and distanced himself.
Her heart was thumping against her chest and she couldn’t bring herself to look Cal directly in the eye again. This was terrible…really terrible. She felt overwhelmed with an emotion that she couldn’t even begin to understand.
‘So how are you, Kirsten?’ Cal asked, reaching for the jug of water and pouring her a glass.
‘I’m OK…how are you?’ she managed politely after a moment. She forced herself to look at him again. He was thirty-eight, but if anything he looked even more handsome than when she had last seen him, his face still had that patrician, square-jawed, powerful attractiveness, and, although his dark, thick hair now had a few silver strands at the temples, they gave him a distinguished air.
She had almost forgotten how very blue his eyes were. They glimmered with amusement now, as if he knew how much effort it had taken her to sound courteous.
‘I’m not much different from when you saw me last,’ he replied easily. ‘But thanks for asking.’
How right he was, Kirsten thought in bewilderment. She had always thought that if she saw him again it would be like meeting a stranger. But it didn’t feel like that at all. Looking at him across this table felt disturbingly familiar; in fact it was as if someone had suddenly rolled back time and the last few years had disappeared.
It was a very odd sensation and Kirsten didn’t like it at all. This was the man who had broken her heart, ripped it out and roasted it, in fact, and she didn’t want to put time back. The road to recovery from Cal had been too long and painful to allow it to be smashed to pieces now.
‘Well, now we’ve got the pleasantries over, would you like a drink?’
I need a drink, Kirsten thought, preferably a large one. ‘What’s going on, Cal?’ she asked him, trying to gather her startled wits together. ‘What are you doing here?’
He frowned. ‘Didn’t Gerry tell you?’
‘Tell me what?’ She had a horrible sensation in the pit of her stomach as if she was on a fairground ride, being hauled up a steep incline with the uncertain knowledge of how huge the drop was on the other side.
‘That we are going to be working together.’
‘Sorry?’ She wondered if she had misheard him.
‘I’ve been offered the lead part in this new film you are signed up for.’
He watched the incredulity in her eyes. ‘Yes, it’s a bit ironic, isn’t it?’ he agreed. ‘We’ll be husband and wife once more…just on the silver screen this time, of course.’
‘This is some kind of joke, right?’ Her voice was very unsteady. ‘Gerry told me that this movie is being made by some company called Sugar Productions and Jack Boyd has been given the lead part.’
Cal shook his head. ‘The name of the production company is right. But I’ve got the lead part, not Jack.’
The fairground ride tipped over the edge and she was given a dizzying, terrifying glimpse down into an interminable abyss. Her finances were shaky, and she needed this job…but she couldn’t work closely with her ex-husband, especially for the length of time it took to make a movie! It was more than mere flesh and blood could stand.
Her mobile phone rang suddenly and unexpectedly, releasing Kirsten from her frozen state of immobility. She reached for her handbag, knocking over her glass of water in her haste.
A waiter materialised by her elbow to wipe up the flood as she pushed her chair back. ‘Sorry…’ She tried to smile apologetically at him as she pushed herself even further away and looked at her phone. The name ‘Gerry’ was flashing in green letters.
She pressed the connect button. ‘Hi, Gerry, where are you?’ Hidden behind the polite words were the more desperate ones, like, Where the hell are you? Come and bail me out of this mess you’ve got me into.
‘Stuck in traffic; Kirsten, I’m real sorry about this.’
Not as sorry as he was going to be, she thought grimly as she met Cal’s calm gaze across the table.
‘You didn’t tell me about the change of co-star.’ She lowered her tone even more, but there was a dangerous edge to it.
‘That’s because I didn’t know until a few hours ago.’
Why didn’t she believe him? Kirsten wondered suddenly.
‘Great news, isn’t it?’ Gerry continued blithely. ‘It’s a real coup for the studio. They can’t believe their luck…I mean, Cal is one of the biggest names in Hollywood, a fantastic actor, a real heart throb, it will boost the film’s ratings no end—’
Kirsten allowed him to prattle on and meanwhile there was this cold, churning sensation in the pit of her stomach. When her agent paused for breath she said very quickly, very coolly, ‘I’m sorry, Gerry, but this isn’t going to work.’
‘Why not?’ Gerry sounded genuinely perplexed.
‘Because he’s my ex-husband,’ she said succinctly, as if she was talking to someone who was quite mad.
She glanced across at Cal and saw the glint of mockery in his blue eyes now. But she was past caring what he thought; she just wanted out of this.
‘You’re not serious, Kirsten!’ Gerry laughed. ‘If everyone in Hollywood decided they couldn’t work together because they’d once had a relationship, nobody would be making any films!’
‘I don’t care.’ Her voice rose slightly and with difficulty she lowered it and forced herself to remain calm. ‘I don’t care what everyone else does—’
‘You’ve already signed the contract.’ Gerry started to sound impatient.
‘I signed, thinking I was acting alongside Jack—’
‘That doesn’t make a difference to the studio. If you renege on your contract they’ll sue us, Kirsten…it will cost fortunes. You’re due to start filming next week.’
Kirsten could hear a tremor of nerves underneath Gerry’s firm tone, but it was nothing compared to what was going on inside Kirsten. She had thought all her money worries were over when she signed this film contract. Now she felt like an animal caught in a trap, waiting for certain death.
‘Look, you go ahead and have lunch without me, talk things over with Cal. He’s a real nice guy and a professional. I’m sure you two can come to a good agreement about working alongside each other. I’ll ring you later.’
The phone went dead.
‘Problems?’ Cal asked innocently from the other side of the table.
Her eyes narrowed on him. She knew full well that he must have heard everything…and the bits he hadn’t heard he was probably able to fill in for himself.
‘Gerry is stuck in traffic. He says for us to go ahead and eat without him.’ She forced herself to remain civil, her mind rushing ahead, working on the problem. If she couldn’t get out of the film, maybe she could appeal to the better side of her ex’s nature and get him to stand down. After all, as Gerry had said, Cal was a big name in Hollywood; he could work anywhere. And possibly the idea of working with her wasn’t too pleasing to him either.
She moved closer to the table. ‘I’ll just have a mineral water, please?’ she asked the waiter with a smile as he finished tidying up the mess she had made. ‘And I’ll try not to knock it over this time. Sorry about that.’
At least to outward appearances she sounded as if she had pulled herself together again, Kirsten thought. She couldn’t let Cal know how traumatised she felt just sitting opposite him. He’d find that very amusing.
She stalled for time, putting her phone away in her bag. ‘So, when did you realise you were going to have to work alongside me on this film?’ she asked him, trying to sound casual.
‘I’d heard something vaguely, but only knew for definite this morning.’
‘I see.’ She glanced across at him. ‘And are you as delighted about the prospect as I am?’ There was an edge of sarcasm in her tone.
‘I don’t know,’ Cal retorted imperturbably. ‘How delighted are you?’
Her smile became overstretched. He knew damn well that she was fizzing. Was he deliberately trying to wind her up?
‘I didn’t even know you were back State-side.’ She tried a roundabout approach. Playing for time.
‘Yes, I got back about a month ago. I’m renting a house in Beverly Hills.’
‘Nice.’ Kirsten thought about the small apartment that she was sharing with her flatmate Chloe. It had two small bedrooms and a living room and a kitchen hardly big enough for three people to be in at the same time.
Cal seemed to have gone from strength to strength since they had divorced, whilst her career had been severely handicapped by her last agent. Robin Chandler had signed her up soon after she had split up with Cal. At the time she had been a successful singer with a string of hits in the American charts. Chandler had promised promotion and world tours, but what she’d got was an agent who took all her money and tied her up in legal jargon that made it impossible for her to continue her singing career for a full two years without lining his pockets even further.
All her money, even the generous divorce settlement Cal had insisted on making to her, had disappeared into the black hole that had been her time with Robin Chandler. She had sought legal advice, but in the end she had been in so much debt that she had decided to cut her losses and wait until the time limit on her contract with Chandler expired. Her career as a recording artist on hold, she had desperately needed to find other work, so she had switched agents and followed Gerry’s advice into the world of acting.
She was still surprised by her success in this field. Even though her talent as a musician had led her to stage school as a child, she had never envisaged herself becoming an actress.
Up until now she had only had supporting roles but each had added to her reputation as a fine actress. And now she had been offered the chance to move into the movies, and her first leading part, which promised more lucrative rewards and an opportunity to finally turn the corner from financial ruin towards more secure times.
‘How are your parents?’ Cal interrupted her thoughts.
She returned her attention to him, meeting his gaze steadily across the table, and the hope of more tranquil times ahead seemed uncertain again. Her mum and dad had loved Cal; he had charmed them almost as easily as he had charmed her. ‘They’re fine,’ she said tightly, and then found herself relenting slightly. ‘Well, actually Dad hasn’t been very well.’
‘What’s the matter with him?’
Kirsten stared across the table at him; he was a good actor, she thought, because he honestly looked as if he gave a damn. She shrugged, not about to go into details with him. ‘I don’t know; they’re running tests.’ Thinking about her dad put things in perspective for a moment. He was going into hospital for the day on Wednesday and she kept telling herself not to worry, that whatever was wrong would be fixed, but every now and then she couldn’t help her mind running anxiously over worst-case scenarios.
Cal heard the apprehension in her tone, saw the shadows in her green eyes, and for a moment he was strongly tempted to reach across the table and take her hand. But that would be a very big mistake, he told himself grimly.
‘Are they still living out near San Francisco?’ he asked instead.
‘Yes…and Dad’s still got his fishing boat.’ For the briefest second a smile lit her face, transforming it into radiant loveliness. He was reminded vividly of the first weekend she had taken him to meet her folks, how they’d taken the boat out on a clear summer afternoon.
Then as she met his gaze again it was as if the clouds settled over the green of the sea and her smile vanished.
‘Give them both my best wishes next time you’re speaking to them,’ Cal said.
She shrugged. She didn’t like to mention Cal’s name to her mum and dad, but she wouldn’t give him the pleasure of telling him that, of letting him know how much he’d hurt them as well.
The waiter put a small bottle of water down next to her. In the space of silence she forced herself to turn her attention to the present.
‘So what are we going to do about this film?’ she asked briskly.
‘We’re going to act in it, I presume.’
‘Don’t be facetious, Cal, it doesn’t help,’ she snapped. ‘And anyway,’ she added in a cooler, quieter voice, ‘I was hoping that I was going to act in the film and you were going to do the decent, gentlemanly thing and bow out.’
‘Why would I do that?’ He looked genuinely perplexed. ‘I wouldn’t dream of backing out. I’ve given my word—’
‘For all that’s worth,’ she couldn’t resist grating sarcastically and then immediately regretted the slip. She wasn’t going to get anywhere making remarks like that. ‘Anyway,’ she continued hurriedly, thinking maybe it would just be best to be straight with him, ‘as you probably gathered from my telephone call just now, I don’t want to work alongside you, Cal, it’s as simple as that.’
‘Then maybe you should be the one to back out,’ he said. ‘Because I’m not going anywhere. I’ve signed to do this film and I’m looking forward to it.’
He’d already signed the contract! Her heart lurched with fear. ‘Are you doing this to annoy me?’ she hissed, her control breaking, her eyes narrowing. ‘This film is my first big break in ages and you’re deliberately trying to sabotage it.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. You should be thanking me, not asking me to leave. My name will make all the difference to the sales of the film. I’ve probably rescued it from life as a B-movie.’
‘You’re as modest as ever,’ she cut across him scathingly.
He smiled at her. ‘But you know what I’m saying is true. Look on the bright side—you might be nominated for an award, working alongside me.’
‘A purple heart for bravery, you mean? And you could probably get a gold medal in annoying me,’ she reflected pensively.
His lips twisted in a rueful grin. ‘Nothing personal,’ he told her with a glint of devilment in his blue gaze, and for the briefest second she saw him through the American public’s eyes.
It was no wonder they queued up for hours at the cinema to see him; he had a magnetic quality about him, an air of dangerous excitement as well as those undeniably fabulous looks. She had often wondered if he was so successful because he was a complete enigma, you couldn’t really pigeon-hole him anywhere. Although he was American through and through, he had been educated in Oxford, England, and he had worked for an English newspaper before returning home and getting a job as a sports correspondent. Writing fiction in his spare time, he had fallen into a lead role in Hollywood because of a script that he had written for them.
She had fallen for the whole dangerous package before he had made it into the big time. So in a way she had stolen a march on those fans; she knew exactly how they felt when they sat watching him in awe in the darkened cinema. She had been taken in as well.
In fact, the moment Kirsten had met Cal McCormick a kind of madness had descended upon her. Within a whirlwind period of four months they were married and then eleven months later filing for divorce.
Kirsten likened it to an illness, and afterwards referred to that period of her life as the time when she had ‘Calinitus’. He’d clouded her judgement, crept insidiously into her heart and had taken her over completely.
When he smiled with that teasing grin, as he did now, and a woman felt the full power of his looks, he could get away with anything. But not with her, she reminded herself; she had his measure. And if telling her that the movie would only do well because he was in it wasn’t a personal attack on her acting skills, she didn’t know what was, she thought furiously.
She picked up the menu, playing for time, to gather her thoughts sensibly. She wasn’t going to get anywhere losing her temper with him; she knew that from past experience.
‘How come you’re not concentrating on your singing career these days?’ Cal asked her suddenly. ‘You haven’t made a record for ages.’
Kirsten was surprised by the change of subject and wary of answering because she didn’t want to tell him what a dreadful mistake she had made with her last agent. ‘I just decided I needed a change, that’s all,’ she murmured evasively.
‘I never thought you would go into acting.’
‘Neither did I.’ She smiled for a moment. ‘But I changed my manager and Gerry suggested I audition for a role on Broadway. It was just a small cameo part, but I did well to get it. It was a tremendous challenge.’
At the time she hadn’t been at all sure about the move. She remembered flying to New York for the audition, wondering if she was wasting money that she could ill afford on plane tickets and hotels, but out of hundreds of hopefuls she had been selected.
That role had launched her new career in style. The show had been a major success and the critics had loved her. Although it had only been scheduled to run for four months, they had extended it to six. And, on her return to LA, it had opened doors for her into the acting world.
‘So the only reason you went into acting was because you wanted a challenge?’
Why was he continuing to question her? Kirsten wondered angrily. It was none of his business why she had turned away from her career as a recording artist. ‘Yes, something like that,’ she murmured. She was damned if she was going to tell him that because of her dodgy agent she’d had no choice but to go into acting.
The waiter interrupted them. He put an ice bucket and a bottle of champagne next to the table and placed two long-stemmed glasses between them.
‘What’s the champagne for?’ Kirsten eyed it apprehensively, as if it were a bomb waiting to go off.
‘I’ve no idea.’ Cal shrugged. ‘Rest assured I didn’t order it.’
‘With the compliments of Mr Gerry Woods,’ the waiter informed them both with a polite smile. ‘Would you like me to pour it now, sir?’ he asked into the silence.
‘No, thanks, I’ll pour it,’ Cal said.
As the waiter hovered, waiting for them to order their food, Kirsten hurriedly glanced down at the menu and ordered the first thing she saw.
Why was her agent sending them champagne? she wondered as they were left alone again. This was getting out of hand.
‘Look, Cal, I’m asking you nicely. Please tell the studio you won’t be available for this movie after all.’ She hoped there was no hint in her tone of the desperation she was suddenly feeling. She needed this part. It would be the first really decent money she had earned in ages, and she had worked very hard to get here. Stood in long queues and auditioned several times. By contrast Cal could walk into a part anywhere.
‘I’m sorry, Kirsten, but I can’t do that,’ he replied calmly. ‘I’ve told you, I’ve already signed the contract.’
She watched as he poured sparkling champagne into the flutes and felt helpless. She hated the feeling of not being in control; it made her angry. It brought back memories of her relationship with Cal.
‘Your agent is obviously very happy with the situation…so happy he’s sent champagne. He must know how this is going to do you nothing but favours. Trust me on this.’
‘I’d rather trust a barracuda not to bite,’ she retorted. ‘And for your information I don’t need any favours from you,’ she added quickly. ‘I’m doing very well on my own.’
Cal looked at her across the table. ‘I’m sure you are.’ The quiet way he said those words unnerved her slightly.
Made her wonder if he knew about Robin Chandler and the backlog of bills she was still working her way through.
She looked away. He couldn’t know about that. She had been very careful to tell no one, not even her parents…especially her parents; they would have worried themselves sick. The only people she had confided in were her flatmate, Chloe, and Jason. And they were her best friends, the souls of discretion.
‘And now you are going to do even better,’ he added firmly. ‘Look, Kirsten, this is business, pure and simple. There is nothing personal between us any longer. I don’t see why we should have any problem acting opposite each other. It’s just work.’ He shrugged. ‘I can’t for the life of me understand where you are coming from with this panic-stricken “please leave” routine.’
‘I’m not panic-stricken.’ She sat straighter in her chair.
‘So what’s the problem?’
She stared at him and tried to think of a suitable, sensible reply. How was it that Cal always made her feel as if she was the one in the wrong, that she was the unreasonable one? He had a real knack for wrong-footing her.
‘I’ve told you what the problem is.’ She tried to remain firm. ‘Do I have to spell it out in black and white? I don’t want you around.’
‘Do you know what I think?’ He leaned forward across the table and instinctively she leaned back warily.
‘I think you are frightened of me.’
‘Oh, please! Why the hell should I be frightened of you?’ she scoffed.
‘I don’t know, maybe my manly presence upsets you.’
She stared at him and saw the twinkle of amusement in his blue eyes. ‘You always did have a warped sense of humour,’ she said tautly. ‘And for your information your manly presence doesn’t cause me a second thought.’
‘That’s not what you used to say.’ His voice was deep and husky and disturbingly sexy. It disturbed a cauldron of emotion that Kirsten very definitely didn’t want stirring.
Kirsten had never been so glad to see a waiter approach in all her life. She looked down at the plate of food that he put before her and tried not to think about Cal’s words. But he was right, of course; there had been a time when he had only to look at her to turn her on.
‘Gerry seems a decent kind of guy,’ Cal continued as he liberally sprinkled his steak with salt.
‘He’s OK.’
‘Better than that other agent you went to after we split up. What was his name…Chandler?’
Kirsten felt her blood pressure rising. ‘Chandler was all right,’ she lied.
‘Really? I heard that a few people in town got their fingers badly burnt by him, and that you did well to get out when you did.’
Trouble was she hadn’t got out soon enough, Kirsten thought as she pushed her food around the plate.
When she said nothing he shrugged. ‘But I could have heard wrong. I’ve been working out of the country for two years, so what would I know.’
‘Yes, what would you know?’ Her voice grated roughly. She hoped that Cal would never find out what an idiot she had been to trust Chandler. She felt foolish enough.
‘I still think you should have gone to that guy who handled Maeve.’
Hasn’t everyone handled Maeve? Kirsten wanted to ask derisively, but bit down on her lip.
‘Maeve is going from strength to strength now.’
The last thing Kirsten wanted to hear was how well Maeve was doing. It inflamed her senses to even think about that woman. ‘Yes, well, Maeve married a powerful director,’ Kirsten couldn’t help remarking tersely. ‘It boils down to the same old adage, doesn’t it…it’s not what you know but who you know that counts? Personally I’d rather stand on my own two feet any day than have to marry for my career.’
‘Well, maybe you’ve never been that hungry,’ Cal said quietly.
‘And Maeve has?’ Kirsten’s tone was brittle.
‘I was talking about being hungry for success…but, seeing as you are asking, yes, Maeve has had tough times.’
A shaft of pain hit through Kirsten. He was still sticking up for Maeve, still in love with her after all this time. She’d have thought that he might have grown tired of waiting in the sidelines for that woman to get a divorce. But it seemed not; the situation must suit them both.
Kirsten had always known that there were people who preferred the thrill of the chase, the illicit affair rather than commitment, but it had come as something of a shock to find that she was married to one of those people. Cal had fooled her totally.
Originally she had felt sorry for Maeve’s husband, Brian; he was a lot older than she was. But she had heard a whisper since that Brian had indulged in his share of affairs himself. Well, good luck to them all, Kirsten thought angrily. It certainly didn’t suit her tastes. She was glad she had walked away from it.
‘Tell me, what part did Maeve play in this film you’ve just finished making in England? Was she the serving wench, or the gold-digger?’
‘You haven’t lost your sense of humour anyway.’ He reached across and refilled her glass.
‘Why are you still so angry with me, Kirsten?’ he asked suddenly, with that quiet, disarming directness that always unnerved her. ‘You divorced me, if you remember, not the other way around.’
Was he serious? She wanted to scream at him in that second. The divorce had been a formality. OK, in a rare flash of gentlemanly behaviour he’d allowed her to file for it. But what choice had she had?
She stared at him, her green eyes shimmering with a kind of mutant dislike. What did he expect? she wondered. After the way he had treated her, what the hell did he expect?
She reached for her champagne. ‘I’m not angry,’ she said coldly. ‘That would mean I gave a damn.’
The champagne left a bitter taste in her mouth, which was strange; champagne had never done that before.
‘You know, Kirsten we were both under a lot of strain two years ago. I don’t think either of us was thinking very clearly.’
The gentleness of his tone made her stomach twist in knots.
‘No couple should ever have to go through what we went through.’
She looked down at her hands and tried to close her ears and her mind to the soft words. If he mentioned the unmentionable she would leave, she told herself. She’d just get up and walk out.
‘When I got to England I tried to ring you several times.’ He changed tack. ‘But you never took my calls.’
‘What was the point?’ She looked up at him, relieved that he wasn’t going to delve into the darker area of their break-up. ‘The day you left our marriage was over.’
She saw the flash of annoyance in his eyes and found herself feeling pleased. Pleased that she could inflict just a tiny proportion of the hurt she had felt back on him. ‘Anyway, I don’t want to have this conversation,’ she told him firmly. ‘I don’t even want to be here.’
‘So I gathered.’ His tone was dry. ‘But we’ve got a lot of filming…a lot of work to get through together. I reckon we could do with calling a truce for a while, don’t you?’
She hesitated.
‘We can’t change the past. We can only go forward and learn from it.’
He sounded so sensible, so mature. She knew he was right, but she couldn’t forgive and forget.
‘What do you say?’ he asked. ‘Shall we put our personal differences aside and work smoothly together?’
What choice did she have? she asked herself dismally. She couldn’t get out of working on the film and he obviously wasn’t going to do the decent thing and walk away from his part in it. So the only thing she could do was to try and at least tolerate his presence; otherwise the next few months were going to be hell. She shrugged. ‘I don’t want to work with you, but I’ve already signed the contract.’
‘So that’s a yes, then?’ he asked sardonically.
‘It’s an I’ll try,’ she said huskily, the words sticking in her throat.
‘Good.’ He smiled. ‘I’ll look forward to working with you, Kirsten. I’ve read the reviews about your performance on Broadway. They say you’ve got talent.’
‘You don’t need to try to flatter me, Cal,’ she murmured. ‘A healthy respect between us will suffice.’
He raised his champagne glass. ‘I’ll drink to that.’
She didn’t join him in the toast.
‘Would you like a coffee?’ he asked as she straightened her cutlery on the plate of untouched food.
‘No. I’d like to go,’ she said.
He didn’t argue.
She watched as he summoned a waiter to ask for the bill.
He was probably happy now, thinking that everything was smoothed out between them, thinking that Cal the charmer was victorious again and that they could sweep the past tidily away out of sight. Work could go ahead unimpeded, and that was all Cal really cared about, she thought angrily.
‘So, I’ll see you next week on set,’ he said as she got to her feet.
‘Yes, see you next week.’ She kept her voice light with difficulty. She could be as businesslike as him, she told herself confidently. Cal the charmer would never triumph over her again.