‘It’s amazing,’ Olivia said. She sat down at the table and let out a laugh as she watched the city swing past her through the rounded glass walls. ‘I’ve never seen anything like this.’
‘I know it’s not exactly Franklin Grove.’ Jackson grinned as he sat down across from her. ‘But do you think you could get used to it?’
‘Well . . .’ Olivia frowned, as one of the waiters leaned over to stack her plate with food. Jackson seemed to be able to ignore the service, the way her Transylvanian grandparents could at one of their fancy banquets, but she couldn’t help being aware of the waiters’ presence as she spoke.
‘International travel is exciting,’ she said, ‘and the movie business is, too . . . but honestly?’ She leaned forwards, dropping her voice as she admitted: ‘Just between the two of us, I’m already exhausted, and we haven’t even started filming yet. I don’t know how you put yourself through this so many times a year!’
Jackson nodded, looking sympathetic. ‘Honestly? I’m not sure, either. But . . .’ He shrugged, picking up an avocado wrap from his plate. ‘I’ve already got more projects lined up, so I can’t let myself worry too much about it.’
‘That’s right!’ Olivia beamed. ‘I just heard you got that role as the teenage super spy! That sounds fantastic!’
Jackson stared at her, his wrap frozen halfway to his mouth. ‘Did you see that in Teen Talk?’
‘Um . . .’ Olivia’s mouth went dry. She couldn’t tell him the truth – that she’d read it in VAMP magazine! ‘I think . . . I don’t remember,’ she mumbled, wincing.
Jackson shook his head, looking disgusted. ‘Don’t believe anything you read in Teen Talk. Seriously. They’re hardly the high standard of journalism, even by celebrity journalism standards.’
Olivia forced herself to chew endlessly on a single piece of lettuce, cursing herself. Why did I have to say anything about it in the first place?
VAMP Magazine was far more credible than Teen Talk, but it was also a secret kept by the vampire community. And even if it hadn’t been, she couldn’t bring herself to admit that she’d been reading any celebrity gossip articles about him. If she did, she’d come off as a gullible fangirl.
Or worse: she might even seem like the kind of stalker ex-girlfriend she’d seen on TV shows, obsessed with him in some unhealthy way!
‘It wasn’t Teen Talk,’ she mumbled.
‘No?’ Jackson frowned. ‘Where was it, then? I didn’t think anyone else had reported it.’
‘Um . . .’ Caught, with both the waiters’ gazes on her, Olivia swallowed hard. ‘Maybe . . . I might have seen it in the New York Times?’
Jackson choked on his wrap. ‘Are you serious?’ he managed, in between coughs.
Olivia licked her lips nervously. ‘I . . . think so?’
‘Wow.’ He shook his head as he finally stopped coughing. ‘I can’t believe it. I thought the only time my name ever got mentioned in the Times was when their film critic trashed my performance in The Groves. He said I was wooden.’
‘What?’ Olivia gasped in outrage. ‘Who would say that? That’s ridiculous! It’s just not true. You were fantastic! You totally –’ Oops. She snapped her mouth shut too late, wincing. D’oh! ‘Um . . . not that I’m a stalker fangirl,’ she muttered, her cheeks burning. ‘Obviously.’
‘Are you sure about that?’ Jackson raised his eyebrows. ‘You’ve apparently been reading all about me –’
‘In the Times!’ Olivia yelped. ‘I was just reading the film section!’
But he was already laughing, his blue eyes bright with amusement. ‘Don’t worry! I get it. I would have read articles about you, too.’
Olivia blinked. ‘You would have?’
‘Of course.’ He shrugged, as if it were obvious. ‘Anyway, I shouldn’t be teasing you like this.’ His gaze dropped to his plate. ‘Especially not now. See, I’ve got something very important and a little . . .’ He gave an awkward laugh. ‘. . . well, it’s a little embarrassing, to tell the truth. But I really want to talk to you about it.’
‘OK . . .’ Olivia felt a flutter of nervousness clutch at her throat. She could sense the waiters trying not to listen.
Was Jackson really about to talk about . . . them? As a couple? If he wanted to re-open that chapter of their lives . . .
Her breathing stopped as Jackson reached across the table and took her right hand. His fingers felt warm and strong and achingly familiar.
‘Olivia,’ he said. His voice throbbed with emotion. ‘I really, really need . . .’ He hesitated, looking anguished.
‘Yes?’ Olivia’s voice came out as a squeak. Her left hand was clutched so tightly around her napkin, it would have shredded if it hadn’t been made of cloth.
‘. . . your help,’ he finished in a rush. Then he let out a whoosh of breath and rolled out his shoulders. ‘Whew.’ He gave her a lopsided grin. ‘It was hard to get that out!’
Olivia just stared at him, her mouth hanging open. Outside, the sights of London swung past, exotic and beautiful, and having no effect on her because, inside, she felt numb. ‘What are you talking about?’ she asked faintly.
‘It’s the role. I mean, roles.’ Grimacing, Jackson sat back. ‘For our London scenes, I have to do English accents for the brothers.’
‘Yeah . . .?’ Her head was still whirling with reaction as she drew her hand away from his.
He didn’t seem to notice. ‘Well, one of the brothers is “posh” – upper-class English. I can do that, no problem! But the other brother . . .’ Jackson sighed. ‘He’s a “Cockney”, a real working-class Londoner, and I just can’t get that accent right.’
‘And you think I can?’ Olivia shook her head, almost laughing. ‘Jackson, look at me. I’ve never even been to England before!’
‘But you’re awesome at voices, though,’ Jackson said. ‘Your robot voice in Camilla’s sci-fi version of Romeo and Juliet was amazing!’
It was amazing, Olivia thought wistfully. But she wasn’t thinking of the strange voice Camilla had made her put on. She was thinking of that opening night performance, when Jackson as Romeo had given her a very first kiss . . .