Page 43 of And I Love Her

“I think so.” He frowned. “Are you going to debrief me every time I see her?”

She had the grace to look abashed. “I just want to make sure you’re…er, holding her interest.”

His frown deepened. “You think I can’t?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You implied it.” Irritation shot down his spine, and he lowered his voice. “I’m only an actor, but I do know what the Peloponnesian wars were about. I’m capable of having a conversation with a Harvard PhD Classics professor.”

“I didn’t mean to imply that you couldn’t.” Eleanor’s brow furrowed. She reached across the table and squeezed his arm. “I just meant that she’s preoccupied with so many things that a simple date might not be enough for her.”

“A date, huh?” Jake straightened and folded his arms. “You told me the other day there’s no way Callie and I candate.”

“I meant that as a figure of speech.” She lifted her hands. “I like you a great deal, Jake, but trust me when I tell you I’m not pushing you to be my daughter’s boyfriend. I want Callie to have some fun, not get her heart broken.”

A twinge went through him. “And I’d break her heart.”

“Not intentionally, of course. But you’re leaving at the end of the month, so it’s best all-around if you just stay good friends.”

She was right.

Jake took a swallow of coffee, ignoring the regret pushing at his chest. He’d let his guard down last night. He’d forgotten that he was playing a role.

“Thanks for the coffee.” He grabbed a paper bag from the counter and put the cookies inside. “I’ll take these to go.”

“I really didn’t mean to offend you.” Eleanor bit her lip, her face lined with worry.

“You didn’t.” Jake thought he should be thankful to her for getting his head out of the clouds and his feet back on the ground, but he couldn’t muster up any gratitude.

He hitched his camera over his shoulder and started back to the front of the bakery just as the dividing doors opened. A tall older man with steel-gray hair entered, and Jake stepped aside to let him pass. The guy held up his hands in a “Pardon me” gesture before peering more closely at Jake.

“Has anyone told you you look—”

“Henry!” Eleanor’s voice rose in pitch. She rounded the table and grabbed the man’s arm. “I have some questions about your last flour order.”

A crease appeared between his eyes. “My flour order?”

“Yes, you know, the one with the new stone-ground wheat you told me about.”

“Oh,thatflour order.”

Eleanor tugged him toward the office, giving Jake a smile and a wave. “Good to see you…um, buddy. Come back soon!”

Henry shot Jake a puzzled frown before allowing Eleanor to drag him to the office. Ducking his head, Jake walked back outside. He tugged a baseball cap from his pocket, put it on, and pulled the brim low. Again he slipped on the heavy black-rimmed glasses that helped conceal his identity.

He had to remember he was playing a role. He could still be himself and have a good time with Callie, but these warm fuzzy feelings had to go.

Maybe he should write a speech or something. It’d be a good opportunity to rehearse, so to speak, and reinforce the line he had to keep between his attraction to her and his knowledge that he wasn’t telling her the full truth about her mother setting up their date.

Deflecting a stab of guilt, he continued walking. As an actor, he’d made a career out of lying and pretending to be someone he wasn’t. Why should he approach hanging out with Callie any differently? Yeah, it was harder than a part in a movie, but it would be good practice for the day a director hired him for a substantial, interesting role.

Not that Jake expected that role to land at his feet anytime soon, even if the role of Tom Dillon inTruthhad resonated to his bones. Still, Richard was right—Conrad Birch wanted a real actor to play the role. Jake wouldn’t be considered a “real” actor with Blaze Ripley dogging him at every turn.

But would that dream ever die?

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