She thought of the way he teased her about her dress and helped her situate it at the same time. She thought about the way his eyes danced right before he said something funny. She thought about how her hand still fit in his as if they were made to clasp together for eternity. She pondered the times her heart had thrummed when his thumb caressed her knuckles. With all her thinking, or because of it, an acid-lined hole grew in her chest. She named it the I-Miss-LondonHole.
The hole wasn’t getting any smaller. They say time heals all wounds, but that’s crap. If anything, she ached more for him now than she did the morning after the premiere. It didn’t help that she was scheduled for small-town morning shows this week, and her first stop was Dallas, Texas—home of the mighty Texas Titans. There wasn’t a road in this town that didn’t have a billboard dedicated to the team—and London was on half of them. Granted, he was in full gear including a helmet, but she knew his number and the shape of his body, and therefore knew it was him up there tackling a receiver on the seven-yard line. Jeez! A girl couldn’t very well forget a guy with his kind of advertisingpower.
Knowing London, he probably hated thosebillboards.
“Close your eyes, please,” Kristi said. Without giving her time to brace herself, she airbrushed powder over Maia’s entire face to set the foundation she’d applied momentsbefore.
Maia held her breath, afraid her lungs would have a better complexion than her face. “You have no sense of portion control,” she mumbled through tightlips.
Kristi waved a paper in front of her face, sending cool puffs of air across her cheeks. “You look fabulous for someone who is going on five hours ofsleep.”
Maia released her breath. “Thanks, so doyou.”
She grabbed a brush and eye shadow and worked with all the seriousness of Michelangelo. “Sooo, we’re inTexas.”
“Hmm.” Maia learned long ago not to talk wile Kristi held a brush in herhand.
“Isn’t your long-lost love inTexas?”
Maia grabbed her hand by the wrist to hold it still, because she couldn’thmman answer for that kind of loaded question. “He’s not mine. He hasn’t called. And I have no idea where heis.”
“Testy much?” Kristi shook out her hand. “If you’re so worked up about him, why don’t you callhim?”
Maia’s face heated under all the layers of makeup. If she wasn’t careful, she’d crack her plaster. “Because I don’t have hisnumber.”
Kristi’s mouth fell open. “That’s …unfortunate.”
Nokidding.
The assistant producer appeared at Kristi’s elbow. “Maia, you’re on infive.”
Uh-oh!Maia sucked in a breath as Kristi’s hands flew, sending powder and brushes flying, smearing and blending with her fingers, and saying Italian words Maia was pretty sure would get her kicked out of the SistineChapel.
With a flourish, Kristi removed the cape used to protect Maia’s choral, knee-length professional dress, and the assistant took her arm, leading her through the hallways. When they arrived on set, people parted and whispered her name as if she were a real-life princess and not just an animated one. She shook hands with the host, and then they were oncamera.
She wondered if London watchedWaking Up with Dallas—if he’d see the interview. She wanted him to, wanted him to rush to the studio and insist on seeing her before she left town. He could be in his car right now, speeding through yellow lights. Her fingers suddenly felt full of energy and she drummed them on the arm of thechair.
“Maia, what was your favorite part about making thismovie?”
Maia had her answers at the ready. The local morning shows were given a script, and they generally stuck to it because no one wanted to be blacklisted for mistreating a guest. “Being able to work with Michael Stopston was huge. I’ve been a big fan of his work for as long as I can remember going to themovies.”
“Me too.” The short interview continued as planned and predictable until the host, Bob, turned to the camera. “We’ve got a fun hometown connection for our viewers today.” An image of her and London walking into the premiere together flashed on thescreen.
Maia doubled the speed her fingers drummed. Just seeing his handsome face did funny things to her heartbeat.He could be here anyminute.
“This is London Wilder, safety for the Titans, walking the red carpet with Maia. Tell us, Maia, how long have you knownLondon?”
“For years.” She blinked several times, her brain working desperately to figure out how much she should spill.To heck with it.The paparazzi would dig up the whole story with minimal shoveling. All they’d have to do was wave a couple hundred bucks under an old classmate’s nose and they’d have all the dirt they wanted. Being up-front here would save her a PR mess later. “Actually, it’s an interesting story. We were high schoolsweethearts.”
Bob gaped at her like a fish in a bowl. His mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. Maia bit back a laugh. He hadn’t prepped as well for this interview as he should have, and he wascaught.
“Before you ask,” she said, throwing him a lifeline, “we were on different paths back then. I wanted to pursue theater, and he had a football scholarship that was too good to passup.”
“And you’ve found each otheragain?”
Her hands stilled, all the electrical energy draining like sand in an hourglass. “Actually, we bumped into one another at a charity bachelor auction and again at thepremiere.”
“Will you see him while you’re intown?”
