asked. “It’s fine if you don’t want to talk about it, but I have to admit, I find you a fascinating study. When you’re Christian during rehearsals, you’re so animated, but then when you go back to being Damon, you’re like a closed book.”
Her question made me self-conscious, but at the same time I wanted to answer it. I wanted her to know me. “I was always a shy lad, never had a lot of friends at school. When I was eight, I had a teacher who was determined to draw me out of my shell. She gave me the lead in our school play of James and the Giant Peach. It was like” — I paused, trying to find the right words — “wanting to be an artist all your life and then finally finding paint for the first time. If I wasn’t myself, I could be anyone. I didn’t have to hold back. I was…free.”
Rose ate up everything I told her. This was probably the most open I’d been with her since we’d met. “And then it just took over.”
“How did you know?”
She blushed. “Because I felt exactly the same way when I discovered dancing. I saw a film when I was little with Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers, and just felt like my heart was going to explode. I knew right then and there what I wanted to do with my life.”
I studied her, my eyes focusing on the flush of her cheeks and the delicate shape of her mouth, before whispering, “What a pair we make, eh?”
She glanced up. “Quite the pair.” A moment elapsed and she cleared her throat, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. “I heard a couple of the girls in the show say you were working on a fishing trawler back in Skye. Is that true?”
“It is. No idea how word got around, though. We certainly don’t use Twitter out at sea.”
She grinned. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe some of the men on your boat enjoy posting pictures of all the fish they’ve caught, like, ‘Hey, everyone, check out the size of my pollacks.’”
Her eyes glittered when I laughed at her joke. “Nah, we’re all too exhausted half the time for any of that faffing about.”
“Why do you do it, though?” she asked, her expression turning curious. “I mean, unless you lost all your money in a Ponzi scheme, then you must have enough to keep you living comfortably.”
Exhaling a breath, I answered, “I like the harshness of it, keeps me grounded. During my film career I was given anything I wanted, especially after Mum passed and Dad came on the scene. I quickly discovered that spending money and indulging in luxuries made me miserable. That sort of life just isn’t for me. I like working hard for things, appreciating simple stuff like a cup of tea shared with a friend.” I paused to gesture between the two of us. “Or a hot meal at the end of a long gruelling day of labour. I feel like I’ve earned it. Not to mention I don’t really see the value of gold-plated iPods or watches worth as much as houses.”
Rose leaned her elbows on the table as she studied me. “You’re very interesting to me, do you know that?”
“I am?”
“Yes. I’ve never known someone to be so enlightened yet completely uncertain of who they are at the same time.”
I stared at her intensely, because she’d hit the nail right on the head. I was an actor. Even if we did know who we were at the beginning, after a while sometimes we played so many roles that we forgot.
“Perhaps you being here, getting offered the part right after your grandmother passed, really is kismet. Maybe you’re supposed to do this to find yourself.”
“Enlightenment on London’s West End?” I asked, amused.
“Enlightenment is often found in the most unexpected places,” she replied, lifting the cup to her mouth again with a teasing smile.
My eyes traced the curve of her lips and the feminine line of her jaw, and I thought, If I could find myself anywhere, it would be inside you, Rose Taylor.
“Have you been practicing the dance moves I taught you?” she went on, and my attention was drawn away from the swell of her breasts. I sat up a little straighter, like she’d caught me doing something I shouldn’t.
“Uh, not exactly.”
She shot me a playful scowl. “Well, how about we have another lesson now? This room should be big enough.”