“Okay,” she said, drawing out the word. He had told her Lulu’d been very impressed, and Maddie had been proud of herself for it. But every time she thought of Lulu and her movie in the same sentence, she recalled Lulu’s comparison of Maddie to Micah’s ex. And she couldn’t bear that anyone might think she was using Micah for his film connections.
But all of those thoughts were miles off from whatever Micah was talking about now. She just couldn’t quite follow his direction yet.
“And how about heights? Do you have a fear of heights?”
“No,” she answered tentatively. “Do you?”
“Nope. Not at all.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Why are you being so weird?”
“Weird? I’m not being weird. I just realized I didn’t know if you were afraid of heights or not. You know. Standard get-to-know-you question. I really should have already known this.”
“Uh-huh.” Maddie didn’t believe him. He was up to something.
“Do you have anything you’d like to know about me?”
She’d learned a lot about Micah in the last few weeks—things she never gleaned about him from the countless interviews she’d watched and read over the years—but she knew there was still more to discover. Everything. She wanted to know everything about him.
Like, for example, what would happen with them after the shoot ended on Friday? And where the heck was he taking her?
But she didn’t ask those questions. He’d told her that today was a surprise, had woken her at four in the morning on their day off, and told her to dress warm. He refused to say anything about it. After twenty minutes of probing, she’d dropped it.
Maybe that was why she couldn’t bring herself to steer the conversation to their relationship—she didn’t want to ruin his carefully planned surprise.
“Let’s see.” She searched for a safe but meaningful query. “Oh, I know. Did you always want to be an actor?”
“Seriously?” He turned off the main road they’d been following onto a smaller windy road. “That’s what you want to know? You can find that out from a good Google search.”
“In every interviews I’ve read you’ve said ‘yes’.”
“There you go,” he said, throwing his arm out dramatically.
“But I’ve always sensed you were hiding something.”
He peered at her. “How do you do that? How do you know me so well?”
Because we’re meant to be together. She shrugged.
“No. I didn’t always want to be an actor.” He looked at her as if gauging her reaction. “My mom was an actress so she got me acting in commercials when I was about thirteen. And I hated it. We didn’t live in the film industry part of the city and no one in my school was into anything artsy. Kids picked on me, called me a fag, beat me up on a regular basis. In fact, that’s how I met Fudge. He stepped up for me and has been protecting me ever since.”
Wow. She had no idea.
“Do you know how he got his nickname?”
She shook her head.
“Because he used to scare kids so bad, they’d fudge their pants.”
She giggled.
“Anyway. Then I turned sixteen. My high school was putting on David and Lisa. I didn’t really want to do it, but my girlfriend—”
“Girlfriend?”
He ignored her. “Thought it would be super sexy if I was in it. So I tried out and I got the part of David.”
“Which is a great part. Definitely super sexy.”
“Yes, it is.” He slid his free hand over to grab hers. “But on top of that, my high school theater director was amazing. She taught us more than just memorizing lines and blocking. She taught us process, how to make choices in acting, how to create a character internally and externally. I fell in love.”
“I’m assuming you fell in love with the acting, not the girlfriend.” Not that she was jealous of a high school sweetheart. Not in the least.
“Totally the acting. I broke up with the girlfriend before the show even went up.”
“Awesome.” She grinned.
“I started taking classes outside of school—speech, movement, acting for the camera. I got a personal coach. Then an agent. Then I started doing indies, which I loved. Then I got Stu.”
“And the rest is history.”
“I suppose so.”
He was silent for several seconds. The morning light brightened, the sun just coming over the edge of the horizon. She let go of his hand and rummaged through her purse until she found her sunglasses.
When Micah spoke again, his voice was low and serious. “That breakup was because of the show, actually. Even back then, acting interfered with my relationship.”
“With your teenage girlfriend? How so?” She didn’t like what he was hinting at and was grateful for the dark of her glasses so he wouldn’t see the glare in her eyes.
“We broke up because she was jealous of my acting. She said I spent too much time away from her. We fought and fought about it. It was awful.”
Maddie cocked her head to look at Micah’s profile. Was this the reason he was so convinced he couldn’t have a girlfriend now? Because of a silly breakup when he was a kid? It was a ridiculous idea, but a bubble of hope began forming in her chest. “But you were in high school. Kids are selfish and self-centered. Most teenage relationships end for those sorts of reasons with or without acting involved.” Surely he could see that.
“It’s not just because of that girlfriend. There were others after. And then there’s my parents.”
“Your parents?” She was taken aback. What did his parents have to do with anything?
“All my life my mother tried to be an actress and it always put a strain on my parents’ marriage. When I was twelve, she realized that all the compromises she’d made to be a wife and mother had kept her from being as successful as she’d dreamed of being as an actress. So she left my dad.”
“Ouch.” The bubble of hope burst as pieces of the puzzle were beginning to make sense. Lulu had chosen career over family. No wonder she was so eager for Micah to do the same.
“It destroyed my dad. He loved her so completely. He couldn’t understand why Lulu had to give up on their marriage. I didn’t understand either until later.” He paused and gave Maddie a quick side glance. “Now I understand completely.”
Her body tensed, but before she overreacted, she needed clarification. “Are you saying you still have no faith in Hollywood relationships?”
“I’ve never said any differently.”
Tears sprang to her eyes. All the time they’d spent together, she’d thought it meant something. And now he was saying it didn’t change anything. “Then what are we doing, Micah?” Her voice was choked. “We said no preconceived notions about where we were going, but clearly you’ve already decided we’re doomed. So was I just something to fill your time?”
“No! Of course not, baby.” He took one hand off the wheel and ran it through his hair. “When we take one day at a time, yeah, it seems possible. But long term? I just…I still haven’t seen any evidence to change my mind.”
She closed her eyes and swallowed, stemming the pain before it could overwhelm her. Didn’t he realize how much his words hurt? Or was that his intent? Was he breaking up with her?
No, he couldn’t be. Or, if he was, she wouldn’t let him without a fight. She opened her eyes again and she slid her glasses on top of her head, turning to face him. “There are people who make it work, Micah. Successful people. Look at Angel and Brett. Didn’t Roberta Jules marry her cameraman? They’ve been together for ages.”
“But Angel and Brett do a whole lot fewer movies than they used to. And Roberta practically retired.”
“They chose to scale back.”