“This way,” Laney chirped, apparently oblivious to their tension-filled exchange.
Taking a deep breath to compose herself, Jess followed the director.
7
NATE TOOK HIS PLACE ON SETand waited for his cue, acutely aware of Jess watching from behind the line of cameras.
With the bright lights in his face, he couldn’t see her expression, but he could imagine it. It was the expression she’d been giving him since the minute they met: unimpressed. In fact, the only time that changed was when he told her the bedrest fact.
Why he’d felt the need to ask what was wrong, he had no idea. He hadn’t wanted to talk to her more than the bare minimum, but he kept being drawn in, wanting to impress her. Was it her resemblance to his ex? That was a stupid reason. She wasn’t Samantha, and that relationship was well and truly done.
Whatever the reason, the anger he’d entertained this morning felt completely unfair. The dangerous mix of emotions still churned inside him, but it didn’t seem right to take it out on a complete stranger. He’d try to be civil.
It had been nice to see Jess’s surprised look when he knew the medical information she’d needed. He hadn’t told anyone on set about his background or why he’d auditioned for the role, and he didn’t plan to either. Ignoring his old life worked for now. Although, he’d eventually have to face reality, and his bursting inbox. He hadn’t dared look at his notifications. Running away from everything, temporarily of course, allowed him to reassesshis life post-Samantha. But the history of birth and labour was one of his special interest areas, and he couldn’t help blurting out a bit to Jess when she needed it.
“Ready on set?” Laney called after a flurry of activity as cameras moved into position and extras found their starting places. A chorus of ‘ready’s’ filled the room and then silence.
“Nate?”
He lifted his head, suddenly aware he hadn’t answered. “Oh, yes. Sorry. Ready.”
The First Assistant Camera Operator held up his fingers and counted Nate in.
He stared directly into the camera, fighting the urge to let his eyes drift to Jess, standing within his field of vision just behind the crew. She swayed slowly from foot to foot, tipping her curvy hips to the side in that same easy, sensual way Samantha always moved when she had to wait somewhere.
He swallowed, his tongue and throat sandpaper.
“I’m sorry. Can I get a water first?” he asked.
The red light on the camera switched off, and Laney waved at an assistant. “Water, please!”
“So sorry,” he repeated. What was wrong with him? Since touching Jess earlier, his mind had turned to mush. He wouldn’t have offered her a hand up if he’d known it would have this effect. The old-fashioned English manners he’d been raised with were more than annoying at times.
Her slim, long fingers had fit so snugly within his hand, felt so soft and delicate. For a moment, he’d struggled to let go.
Up close, Nate could better see the differences between Jess and Samantha, although both were uncannily similar. Where Samantha had a model-like sharpness to her face, andpersonality it turned out, Jess was all softness and curves: round cheeks, full lips, soft black hair flowing in waves down past her feminine shoulders. Jess’s brown eyes had flecks of gold and a cheeky spark in them. Her nose was small and flat across the bridge. As cute as a button, something his mother used to say, seemed the perfect description.
Stop, he told himself.This isn’t what you’re here for. You’re here to forget about Samantha, not fall for her twin.
Maybe anger was a safer option? He recalled the scene of Samantha and his old friend, the awful metallic taste of betrayal, and allowed bitterness to harden his features.
Laney’s assistant handed Nate a glass of water.
“All good to go?” Laney asked after he’d emptied it and handed it back to the assistant.
“Thank you, yes. Ready.”
THE MORNING’S FILMING SESSION PASSED QUICKLYand in no time, Laney made the call to break for lunch. Jess exhaled. The young actress playing the role of the birthing mother needed quite a lot of coaching. She’d never even seen someone give birth and, in Jess’s opinion, was being overly dramatic. Although it was a medicaldrama, so perhaps that was expected?
But Laney had said they wanted a realistic birth, and women in the 50s were still fairly restrained, even during birth. Half the time, the mothers completely passed out from the strong drugs doctors administered in those days.
“All back here by two o’clock, please,” Laney announced. She caught Jess’s eye and waved her over. “Hey, your manager called a few minutes ago. She couldn’t get you on your cell. It sounded urgent?”
Jess’s heart sank. In her exhaustion last night, she’d forgotten to arrange the back-up midwife for her clients. She’d been a midwife long enough to have a sixth sense about these things, and she knew her manager likely wasn’t calling with good news.
Jess found a quiet spot outside and, feeling well overdue for a coffee, or three, leaned up against the wall of the old hospital to call her manager.
“Jess, I’m sorry to bother you, but it’s sounding like Zara Bishop is in labour. Could be Braxton Hicks, but I thought it better to—”
