Nothing Like Love (2 page)

C
HAPTER
T
WO

A
s Simone hurried backstage, a tangle of emotions made her heart race.

He liked it. Zach Hammond liked her set.

When she thought about that, she couldn’t keep from smiling.

But then she remembered the way he’d looked at her, his expression faintly surprised and vaguely disapproving, as though she were an odd species of bug he’d never seen before but that he was almost certain had the wrong number of legs.

Of course he was used to heiresses and movie stars and royalty, but still. He didn’t have to stare at her like—

Then she opened the door to the dressing room and caught sight of herself in the mirror.

Her face was smeared with paint. Her hair was flat on one side and sticking up on the other. Her jeans and T-shirt were wrinkled, filthy, and stained with sweat and turpentine.

Okay, so maybe Zach’s expression had been justified.

Did she have time to wash up before she changed? Considering the alternative, she decided the answer was yes.

Simone stripped off her clothes on her way to the bathroom and turned on the shower. She made the water as hot as she could stand it, scrubbing off the dirt and paint as best she could. Then she dried off quickly and hurried over to the costume rack.

She decided to dress as Cobweb. The dove-colored unitard and floating overdress worked really well against the set, and it would be a good contrast to the orange and russet of the Mustardseed costume.

Five minutes later she was running for the stage in her bare feet, since her sneakers didn’t exactly go with her outfit.

She paused in the wings to catch her breath. Amy was already onstage, her hand shading her eyes as she looked out into the house, presumably at Zach.

The Mustardseed costume looked fantastic. Amy wasn’t in makeup or wearing the headpiece, but the pumpkin and tangerine shades of the unitard and silk tulle overdress were gorgeous against the backdrop.

“Where is Miss Oliver?”

That was Zach, his whiskey-smooth baritone making the impatient words sound sexier than a pickup line. The man’s voice should be registered as a deadly weapon.

“I’m here! Sorry I—”

She tripped over a cable as she went onstage but managed to stay upright.

“Sorry,” she said again, blinking into the stage lights as she scanned the house for Zach. “I’m not the most graceful fairy in the world, but—”

“Stop talking, please.”

His tone was brusque, but Simone wasn’t offended. She recognized the signs of a director getting the feel of a mise-en-scène.

Cobweb, unlike Mustardseed, had been designed to blend into the set. The silk panel she stood behind was silver gray, and it would be hard to distinguish her costume against it. Only her face would stand out, visible but insubstantial in a misty and moonlit sea. It was, she hoped and believed, eminently fairylike.

But as seconds ticked by into minutes, Simone’s anxiety returned full-force. What
was
Zach seeing? Why wasn’t he saying anything? And why couldn’t she be down there with him instead of up here? She loved the theater but hated being onstage, which was why she’d become a designer in the first place. Under the lights like this she felt exposed and vulnerable.

Finally she couldn’t stand it anymore. “Look, if there’s a problem, I can—”

“There’s no problem,” Zach said, his voice sounding a little odd. “It’s brilliant, Simone. I just wanted to look for a moment.”

“Oh,” she said, nonplussed. He’d never called her by her first name before, although he insisted that everyone in the company call him Zach.

Amy grinned at her, impish as Mustardseed. “You’re a hit,” she said softly. “A palpable hit.” Then she raised her voice and called out to Zach: “Why don’t you come up here? The crew never gets to be in costume. What about doing a scene with us? You’d make our night—and we could show you why we never became actors.”

“Amy,” Simone hissed, mortified—but Zach just laughed as he came toward them, resting his forearms on the apron of the stage.

“I’d be delighted to do a scene with you. How about act four, scene one?”

That was the scene where Bottom, an Athenian actor who’d been turned into an ass by the mischievous fairy Puck, was doted upon by Titania, the fairy queen, who’d been put under a love spell at the order of her disgruntled husband, Oberon. Her fairy servants—Peaseblossom, Cobweb, and Mustardseed—helped their queen lavish attention on the ridiculous creature.

Zach vaulted effortlessly onto the stage, and Simone’s female DNA, programmed for millennia to respond to masculine displays of athleticism, reminded her that Zach Hammond was a truly impressive specimen of manhood.

Not that she needed reminding.

“Yowza,” Amy said. “You’re in pretty good shape, huh?”

Zach grinned at her. “Thanks for noticing. Now for the scene: which of you is going to take Titania?”

“Simone should,” Amy said. “She knows the part.”

Zach turned those intense blue eyes on her. “You’ve played Titania before?”

Simone shook her head. “I’m not an actor.”

“Then why do you know the lines?”

Simone hesitated. She was a little annoyed with Amy for bringing it up, although that wasn’t really fair. She’d never actually told anyone to keep her ability a secret. But for some reason, she felt shy about telling Zach that she—

“Simone has a photographic memory,” Amy explained.

Simone glared at her. “No, I don’t. It’s not like that.”

Zach looked interested. “But you’ve memorized Titania’s lines?”

“Not just Titania,” Amy put in. “She’s memorized, like, half of Shakespeare. Anything she read in school and any production she’s ever worked on.”

Zach’s eyebrows went up a trifle. “Impressive. All right, then—let’s see you in action.”

There was a hint of challenge in his eyes, as though he didn’t really believe she’d memorized half of Shakespeare.

Zach’s skepticism was the only thing that could have goaded her into doing the scene.

“Fine,” she said, gesturing toward a trio of painted trees. “If you’d care to take a seat, Bottom?”

His smile grew wider as he sat down on the stage, reclining back against one of the sculpted tree trunks. “You’re sure you’re up to the task? You’ll have to convince the audience you’re in love with me.”

Simone sat down beside him. “It shouldn’t be a problem. I’ve been pretty well prepped for this role by my experiences as a single woman.”

“Meaning?”

“I know what it’s like to be in love with an ass.”

He threw back his head and laughed. “Touché, Miss Oliver.”

“I thought I was Simone, now.”

He nodded. “Simone it is. And Amy,” he added, glancing up at the stage manager. “Shall we begin?” he asked, looking back at Simone. “The first line is yours.”

Simone cleared her throat, but her voice still squeaked a little when she spoke.

“Come, sit thee down upon this flowery bed

While I thy amiable cheeks do coy,

And stick musk-roses in thy sleek, smooth head,

And kiss thy fair large ears, my gentle joy.”

She paused. “I’m not kissing your ears, by the way.”

“Don’t break character,” Zach admonished her, but he was grinning.

A beat went by, and a subtle transformation seemed to pass over him. His mocking expression softened into gentle amiability. And then, like magic, he became Bottom.

“Where’s Monsieur Mustardseed?”

Amy stepped forward. “What’s your will?” she asked.

“I must to the barber’s, monsieur; for methinks I am marvelous hairy about the face; and I am such a tender ass, if my hair do but tickle me, I must scratch.”

Zach’s tone, rustic and courtly at the same time, pulled Simone into the absurd, sweet magic of the scene. When she spoke her next line as Titania, she found herself gazing at Zach as though she were, indeed, ensorcelled by Puck’s love potion.

“I have a venturous fairy that shall seek the squirrel’s hoard, and fetch thee new nuts.”

Zach shook his head slowly.

“I had rather have a handful or two of dried peas. But, I pray you, let none of your people stir me; I have an exposition of sleep come upon me.”

His eyelids were drifting shut as he spoke. Simone put her arms around his shoulders and lowered his head gently into her lap.

“Sleep thou, and I will wind thee in my arms. Fairies, begone, and be all ways away.”

She bent over him and brushed his hair away from his face.

There was a breathless pause. Simone gazed down at Zach, who appeared to be slumbering peacefully in her arms. Then his eyes opened, and he smiled at her upside down.

Just like that, the spell was broken. She had Zach Hammond’s head on her lap, and her fingers were in his hair, and he was looking at her like—

There was a burst of applause from the house. “Bravo!” Norbert called out.

Bright red with embarrassment, Simone pushed Zach off her lap and scrambled to her feet.

Zach rose, too, brushing off his jeans and grinning at her. “You got up so fast I bumped my head on the stage. But since you’re a brilliant set designer—and a bloody fine actor—I’ll forgive you.”

“I’m not an actor.”

Amy shook her head. “Sorry, Simone, but I have to agree with Zach. That was awesome.”

“It really was,” Norbert agreed, coming forward. “And the set and costumes look great. Should we talk through the scene transitions now, or do you want to wait until Monday?”

“Let’s do it now,” Zach decided.

“I’d like to get out of this thing first,” Simone said, looking down at herself. She’d felt exposed in the barely there Cobweb costume even before holding Zach’s head on her lap. Now it felt as though the places they’d touched were visible to everyone, as if a neon map had been drawn on her body. “Although, to be honest, I don’t really want to put on what I was wearing before.”

“I’ve got some spare sweatpants and a T-shirt,” Amy said, and the two of them went backstage to change.

The next hour was purely technical, with all four of them debating lighting and other cues and Amy taking notes. At first, Simone found it difficult to meet Zach’s eyes—she felt a sizzle of heat and embarrassment every time she remembered the weight of his head against her thighs and the feel of his hair against her fingers. But he was all business now, and Simone gradually forgot to be self-conscious in the familiar terrain of stagecraft.

Finally Zach looked at his watch. “All right. We’ve done good work here, but I should leave now if I’m to change before dinner.” He smiled at Simone. “I’m assuming you need to change, as well.”

For a moment she just stared at him. Dinner? What dinner?

Then she remembered.

Oh, God. Jessica’s rehearsal dinner.

Her friend had met Zach a couple of weeks ago and had managed—in a moment Simone relived in nightmares—to rope him into doing a reading from Shakespeare at her wedding. Apparently she’d invited him to the rehearsal dinner as well.

They’d moved from the stage down to the house for their meeting. Simone had been sitting cross-legged in one of the red velvet seats, but now she jumped to her feet. “What time is it?”

“Six thirty,” Zach said. “Don’t worry, you have plenty of time. The invitation was for eight o’clock.”

“
Your
invitation was for eight o’clock,” Simone corrected. “You’re an honored guest. But I’m a bridesmaid, otherwise known as an indentured servant, and I’m supposed to be there at seven.”

Zach looked mystified. “Why so early? The wedding’s tomorrow, isn’t it? What is there left to do?”

“I have no idea. Maybe she wants us to fold a thousand paper cranes or teach swans to sing the Ave Maria. All I know is that she wants us there an hour early, and if I’m late, she’ll kill me dead.”

“Where’s the restaurant?” Amy asked.

“Uptown. Ludano’s.”

“You can make it if you grab a taxi and go straight there.”

Simone gestured at herself. “Like this?”

Amy frowned. “We must have something here that will work.” Suddenly she snapped her fingers. “You can borrow Hermia’s costume. It’ll fit you, and it’s fancy enough.”

“It’s also Elizabethan.”

Amy shrugged. “It suggests the Elizabethan era, sure. But you can pull it off. Unless you want to go home to change and be a little late. Of course, having met your friend Jessica . . .”

“Point taken.”

“I’ll go out front and flag you a taxi,” Zach put in.

“Thanks,” Simone said gratefully, and he strode up the aisle toward the front of the house.

“You can go wait with him,” Amy said. “I’ll get the costume and bring it out to you. You can change on the way.”

“Perfect. Thanks, Amy.”

Amy grinned at her. “No problem. Thank
you
for making us look good in front of the director.”

“I second that emotion,” Norbert added. “He loved the set, Simone. Slam dunk.”

Simone took in a deep breath and let it out. She wasn’t sure if it was the scene they’d done together or Zach’s reaction to her set, but she felt a little giddy. “He did like it, didn’t he? Thank God.”

She and Norbert headed for the lobby while Amy went backstage to get Hermia’s costume.