the other hand, wanted to leap from my seat, run up to Damon Atwood, and wax lyrical about the cadence of his voice and the depth and quality of his tone.
“We will, however, have to make some alterations to your…look. Jenny here” — he gestured to one of his assistants — “will pencil you in for a barber’s appointment in the morning.”
“Pardon?” said Damon, his brow furrowing. It was slightly hilarious, like someone had just told Sean Connery he’d have to do an accent.
But speaking of accents…hearing him speak for the first time was an experience in itself. He sounded mildly Northern, sort of Sean Bean-esque. Hello. It was a little diluted, though, probably because he’d spent so many years in L.A. during his youth.
“Your character, Christian, is a clean-cut young man,” Jacob explained. “And you look like you just stepped off the set of Vikings, no offence.”
Damon didn’t say a word, just continued staring at Jacob like he was mildly confused by him.
As though suddenly aware of the tension, Jacob sprang up from his seat and hurried across the room, throwing his arm around Damon’s broad shoulders and speaking to him animatedly as he led him back out the door.
“Well, that wasn’t awkward,” said Iggy as he came to sit next to me. “How about a wager on how long Atwood will last? I’m not sure he’ll even make it to opening night.”
I shot him a glance. “That’s mean.”
He raised his hands. “Hey, I know people. Jacob and Damon are about as suited as Britney and that bloke she married for twenty-four hours.”
“It was actually fifty-five, you big cynic.”
“And they say romance is dead.” He grinned and pulled me up with him. “Come on, practice until four and then home.”
Two hours later, I was leaving the studio and scanning the road for approaching taxis when I caught sight of Damon standing by the kerb. There were two moderately sized suitcases at his feet as he stared down at a piece of paper in one hand and his phone in the other. His attractive brows were knit together in consternation.
Now, I wasn’t normally the type to approach strangers and offer unsolicited assistance, but there was something about him in that moment that seemed oddly helpless, despite his size.
“Hey, uh, are you all right?” I asked, my voice snagging his attention.
He looked up, a few moments passing as he took me in, and I wondered if he remembered our brief moment of eye contact earlier that day. After a minute he looked back down at the items he was holding. “I’m fine, thanks.”
His response was dismissive, but not in a rude way, more in a way that said he just wanted to be left alone. I should have gone then, but for some reason my feet wouldn’t move.
I gestured to his suitcases. “Have you just arrived in London?”
His attention flicked from me and then back to the paper he held. He seemed tired. “Aye.” God, I really loved how he spoke. His words weren’t too thickly accented, but they held just the right amount of gravel to make my femininity aware of his masculinity. He looked at me again, this time pressing his lips together and glancing inside for a second. “You work in there?”
So he did remember. The thought had my pulse racing for some reason. I offered a friendly smile. “That’s right. I’m Rose, the choreographer’s assistant.”
Damon grimaced. “I can’t dance.”
His honest response solicited a light chuckle from me. “In that case, you picked a stellar gig.”
He didn’t say anything then, just stared at me as though trying to figure out my game. I took a step closer and glanced at the paper he held. It contained an address, and I recognised the street because it was only a few minutes away from my and Julian’s apartment.
“Is this where you’re staying?” I asked.
He withdrew the paper, tucking it firmly back in his pocket like it contained information on breaking the Enigma code rather than a simple address.
“Aye,” he answered, still wary.
I motioned to his phone. “If you’re looking for directions, I live close by. We can even share a cab if you’d like.”
Again, he eyed me warily, like maybe I was a thief trying to steal his luggage. “No thanks, I’ll make do.”
“It’s really no problem,” I went on.
Now he frowned, growing agitated as he grunted forcefully, “I said no.”
I jumped in surprise and took a step backward. There was a catch in my throat as I raised my