Page 65 of Catch Me
I move closer, wrapping my arms around her and positioning her body so that her back is against my chest. Then I run the tips of my fingers along her jawline and neck, loving the way her body trembles in response.
“I’ve watched you.” Her voice comes out in a whisper. “On set. Sometimes when I have a break, I sneak onto the set to watch filming.”
“I’ve never seen you.”
She laughs. “I’ve only done it a handful of times, and I hide in the corner to stay out of the way. Anyway …” She sits up and turns to me.
“I don’t know how to say this without sounding like a complete fangirl, but you’re amazing in this role. I mean, I’m not an acting critic or anything, but the little bit I have seen makes me want to tell everyone about this film, especially how good you are in it.”
Ivy places a hand to my chest. “That scene will be everything you want it to be and more because of who you are. Trust yourself.”
Her gaze dips before she starts laughing.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing.” She holds up a hand, still laughing. “I just reminded myself of my therapist. She’s always telling me to believe in myself more. To?—”
She stops suddenly. Alarm freezes her features as if she didn’t mean to reveal what she just said.
Ivy clears her throat.
“Believing in yourself doesn’t come easy, does it?” I ask to ease the tension now forming in her body. “Sometimes it takes work. Speaking of, I have something for you.”
I place a kiss on her forehead before rising from the couch. I hadn’t planned to give her this now, but the timing feels right.
CHAPTER 19
Ivy
“Big mouth.” I clamp my hand over my lips the moment Andreas is out of my sight. Why did I ramble on like that about having a therapist? I bet the last thing a man like Andreas wants is a woman who’s “crazy.”
“Therapy is for the weak. We don’t do weak in this household.”
My mother’s words send a chill down my spine. The first time one of my school counselors mentioned taking me to a therapist, my mother all but called the woman a failure for not being anything more than a lowly high school counselor right in front of me.
“It’s sad that your parents never had higher aspirations for you, but as for my children, we do not settle for ‘good enough.’ All Ivy needs is more discipline and focus. And less talking with people like you.”
That was the last time anyone at my high school tried to broach the possibility of therapy with either one of my parents.
Andreas is probably in his room now trying to figure out a way to get me out of his house. Ms. Shelby hops on the couch beside me, purring. I get the feeling she senses my inner turmoil.
Before I can reach out to her, footsteps from down the hall sound. Ms. Shelby leaps off the couch and goes back to the scratching post that’s positioned in the corner of the room. When I saw it earlier, I wondered if Andreas had gotten it just for Ms. Shelby since he doesn’t seem to have any cats of his own.
But if so, why would he do that?
“This is for you,” he says, his smooth, soft voice crashing in on my thoughts. He places a vintage copy ofVoguemagazinefrom 1974 with Beverly Johnson on the cover.
“Wh-What is this?”
“This,” he draws out his answer, pulling me into his arms again until my back’s perched against his chest. He’s firm and steady beneath me.
“Is one of the magazines from your list.”
My heart pounding in my ears makes it a little difficult to comprehend. It’s been years since I looked at this cover, and even longer since I held the actual magazine in my hands.
“It was the first one on your list.”
I nod.
