‘No—try to think of something positive.’
‘Unemployment insurance,’ he said promptly, and Shannon laughed.
‘You’re impossible,’ she said. ‘And crazy.’
‘Right and right, but mostly, I’m scared stiff. You don’t know how much this job means to me. I’m getting kind of old for one-night stands..’ He grinned at the look on her face. ‘Concert performances, Padgett. I gave up the other kind a long time ago.’
‘Really?* she asked, her voice a study in disinterest.
He nodded. ‘Really. There’s something terribly sad in waking up and finding you can’t recall the name of the girl lying beside you. Maybe it was exciting when I was twenty, but by thirty it was depressing as hell. What’s even worse is having to phone the desk clerk to ask what town you’re in.*
‘I take it life on the road isn’t as glamorous as the Sunday supplements make it sound.’
Cade’s laughter was harsh. ‘It’s not what it’s cracked up to be, no.’
Shannon turned away and leaned her arms on the deck railing.
‘Neither is acting. When I was growing up, I used to read articles about people like Meryl Streep and picture myself signing autographs and giving interviews. Nobody told me about the cattle calls—you know, the open auditions where a couple of hundred actresses show up for one part. They never told me about how often you come close to starving.’
‘I know I’m lucky to have avoided all that,’ he said quickly, almost defensively. ‘You worked hard to get where you are and I just kind of wandered in.’
It was what she had told herself from the first, but now it no longer seemed quite that simple. There was an embarrassed smile on her face as she turned towards him.
‘I suppose we just came at it from different directions,’ she said slowly. ‘You worked hard to get where you are.’
‘You don’t have to be charitable, Shannon.’
‘No, no, I mean it. You’re a fine musician.’
‘Not just a guitar player?’ he asked gently.
A rush of crimson rose to her cheeks. ‘I shouldn’t have said that. But I was angry that day. It wasn’t just you, Cade. Part of it was Rima, and the way everybody walks on eggs around her because she has a name. Part of it was Jerry, the way he became all smiles when you walked in…’ She hesitated. ‘I admit, I wasn’t terribly happy to see you.’
‘No kidding,’ he said lightly.
‘But it had nothing to do with your music,’ she said quickly. ‘The truth is, I’ve always liked your songs. They say things I feel...’
She broke off and turned away from him, looking down at the foam flecked water slipping by the hull. She’d said more than she’d intended. She sensed him moving closer to her and her heart began to race. He put a hand on the railing on either side of her, trapping her between his arms.
‘What things?’ he asked softly.
Tell him, she thought, tell him everything. Tell him you hear his loneliness and understand it. Tell him he’s like his music, strong yet tender at the same time. Tell him how hard it is not to surrender each time he kisses you...
‘Shannon?’ he whispered. She could feel his breath against the nape of her neck, the warmth of it heating her wind-chilled flesh. ‘I wanted to tell you... This week, being with you every day, working with you... I couldn’t have done it without you.’
Of course, she thought, closing her eyes as his voice murmured softly to her. She was his ticket to success, the end to those nights and days and weeks on the road. Everything else was make-believe.
With a groan, the ferry bumped into its Staten Island slip. Shannon staggered backward, falling against Cade momentarily as the deck lurched beneath their feet.
‘Careful,’ he said, holding her lightly against him. ‘You don’t want to fall.’
How right he was, she thought, staring blindly into the fog. With Cade Morgan, it would be all too easy.
CHAPTER NINE
The Greek restaurant on 15th Street was, as Cade had promised, a warm oasis in the damp November evening.
‘We both have to eat, don’t we?’ he’d said. ‘It might as well be together—unless you can’t bear the thought of real food instead of a TV dinner.’