A few minutes later, his name was called, and he moved to the podium to accept the award, his chest swelling with pride and relief. He had worked hard onApollo, and the win would help to solidify his place in Hollywood. Elizabeth and Blackie would be delighted at this turn of events and the boost to his career.
An hour later, they came out of the theatre to the flash of cameras and well-wishes from the crowd. “Hank, how does it feel to be voted best actor in a television series?”
“It feels good,” he said, placing his hand on Heather’s back to guide her through the onslaught of press.
“There’s a widely circulated picture of you kissing a woman on a kiss-cam at a Guardians’ baseball game not long ago. Are you dating anyone special?” A tall woman with fake eyelashes thrust a microphone in his face.
He’d been asked this question many times over the years, so he knew how to play the game. He widened his smile and winked at the camera. “Not at the moment. But you never know.”
“What about you?” The lady pushed the microphone in Heather’s face. “You’re on the god Apollo’s arm tonight, and you’re both recently single. Wouldn’t you like to make this a permanent arrangement?”
Heather was a veteran in front of the camera too. She cocked her head his way and batted her long, dark eyelashes. “I’ve been told we have chemistry on set.”
“So there you have it, folks,” the lady with the microphone said into the camera. “The god and goddess are out tonight, and they make quite a pair, don’t they?”
Hank figured the camera panned in fora close-up, so he kept his grin firmly in place and guided Heather by the elbow to the waiting limo. Once they were inside, he went for the liquor between the seats.
Heather put her hand on top of his. “You know, we could see if our chemistry on set extends into the bedroom.”
Hank stilled. “Aren’t you planning to get back with your ex?”
“No, that ship has sailed. And I know you and Melanie are no longer an item, so, what do you say? My place or yours?”
Hank pulled his hand out from under hers. “Sorry. I’m not looking for a good time right now.” He made himself a gin and tonic.
“It’s Melanie, isn’t it? You still have feelings for her.”
“Yes.” He did have feelings for Melanie—ones of relief. But he wanted to spare Heather’s pride, so he didn’t bother elaborating.
She slid her hand onto his thigh and stroked. “If you change your mind, Apollo, you have my number. Call me.”
He ignored her hand. “Can I get you a drink?”
Heather moved her lips into a little pout. “Vodka and cranberry—heavy on the vodka.”
And that ended that.
Later, when he was home, lying in bed at ten o’clock, he asked himself why he’d refused Heather’s advances. They were both single and consenting adults. Except he was not single—not really. It had only been a few days since he’d left Cleveland, but he tortured himself thinking about Bethany, where she was, who she was with, whether she hated him. He wondered if she thought of him whenever she looked up at the stars, like he thought of her.
He brought her white sweater to his nose, the one she’ddropped in his rental home the night he’d made her dinner, and breathed in her lemon and vanilla scent until he slept.
Bethany woketo the sound of her cell phone alarm piercing the quiet morning. She groaned and found the time. Was it six o’clock in the morning already on a Thursday? She tried to drum up her normal optimism for the day ahead, but all her enthusiasm had vanished when Hank had left town.
She rubbed her tired eyelids and forced them open. She couldn’t fall apart because Hank had disappointed her. She had chores, responsibilities, a living to earn. She had enjoyed her life before Hank slid across her countertop. She would enjoy it again one day—just maybe not at this particular moment.
Travis knocked at her bedroom door. At first, he’d taken Hank’s desertion much better than she had, preferring to think it was only temporary. Until yesterday, when they had seen on the news that Hank would play Robin Hood on the big screen and filming would start in a few weeks. Travis had sworn then and given her a hug, offering to work late so she could have the evening off.
“You awake?”
“Yeah. C’mon in.” She pushed her feet over the side of the bed and sat, staring at the floor.
He opened the door. “I’ll go in for you this morning. You can join me when you’re feeling up to it.”
She studied the concerned expression on his face. “I’m okay. You don’t need to take on my work.”
“Yeah, I do.” He handed her his phone. “You were right about Hank. He didn’t waste any time.”
The photograph caught her eye—Hank kissing a beautiful dark-haired woman and the headline:Apollo Actors Rumored to Be Dating. Blood rushed to her temples. He’d kissed his costar—the woman she’d watched him kiss on screen that evening not so long ago, when he’d made her dinner and asked to be her friend, and they’d watched an episode together. She fought to breathe. “It doesn’t matter,” she managed.
