Joan propped her chin on her fist as she grinned, twiddling the pencil between her fingers. “All right then, Mr. Burke. Care to share anything else interesting about your friend?”
There were only a thousand things that came to mind. Monty was an exquisite dancer, but his best moves were saved for when he would scoop Henrietta up in his arms and bounce her around the kitchen with the care of someone holding a newborn. Even though he was usually bold and confident, sometimes he got shy around people he wanted to earn or keep the respect of. When he thought something was especially funny, his laugh came with a single sharp clap of his hands. He would never admit it, but he cared deeply what other people thought of him. It was why watching him constantly find new ways to get in trouble with Ezra and the studio was so painful. It was why Hilliard had agreed to this whole idea in the first place. Monty needed someone to save him from himself. Who better than someone who loved him?
“He thinks he’s not very handy,” Hilliard said finally. “But with the right encouragement, he’s capable of anything he puts his mind to.”
“Is that true, Mr. Kincaid?”
“My limit is drying the dishes and putting food down for Henrietta.” Monty held his palms up toward Ms. Dupree. “As you can see. Hilliard is the one who does all the hard work around this place. Gardening, cleaning, cooking, you name it.”
This seemed to surprise her. “A movie star who does his own housework?”
“I enjoy it,” Hilliard said easily. He didn’t earn nearly as much as Monty did from his movies. It could be argued that he wasn’t a movie star at all. But even if he did earn that kind of a living, he wouldn’t give up all of the things that brought him his true sense of purpose.
“If you say so,” Joan muttered, scanning her notes. “Mr. Kincaid, you’re starring in a comedy that just started filming, right? That’s different from your usual stuff. How did you prepare for the role?”
Monty’s hand moved from the back of the sofa to Hilliard’s shoulder. He gave it a squeeze and said, “Hilliard and I are sharing the project, actually. He’s the one who convinced me to do it at all.”
“You would’ve come around to the idea on your own eventually.” Hilliard reached up to pat Monty’s hand and they exchanged a small grin.
Joan was also wearing a clever smile. “Aren’t you two just the package deal,” she said. “Is your chemistry this strong behind the camera, as well?”
After a week of filming, Hilliard was fairly certain that it was. Their scenes together were easy and fun, even when Monty was fully embracing his role and being sour over the fact that their director wouldn’t allow him to redo a line he thought wasn’t good enough. Hilliard was having a wonderful time working with him.
“I think so,” Monty told her. “Hilliard is funny as hell. Sometimes I have to keep myself from laughing at his lines. It’s the delivery of them that he’s got down to an art. He makes it seem effortless.”
The magic in Hilliard’s heart squeezed. He longed to accept these compliments at more than face value. But Monty was a flatterer through and through. His magic was…
Hilliard turned to look at Monty, studying his profile as he continued to tell Joan about their antics on set. There was no familiar sly grin quirking up the corner of his mouth. His expression was open and honest, rather than sultry and playful. Monty wasn’t using his magic at all.
“I would love to capture the connection you two have for myself,” Joan said finally. She reached into her handbag and pulled out a small folding camera. “Do you mind?”
Monty gave Hilliard a questioning glance and caught him staring.
“Not at all,” Hilliard forced out, hurrying to collect himself. “Where would you like us to pose?”
“Just there is swell,” Joan assured him as she fiddled with the camera.
Monty preened for a moment and then turned to Hilliard again.
“How’s my hair?” he murmured.
“It’s fine, sweetheart,” Hilliard answered just as softly, smoothing a hand over it to satisfy any doubt.
“All right, gentlemen.” Joan aimed the camera at them, supporting the extended lens with one hand. “Give me your best smiles. Mr. Burke, a little closer, please.”
Hilliard moved as close as he could without disturbing Henrietta, who was curled up between them. At the same time, Monty’s arm moved from the back of the sofa again and wrapped around Hilliard, his hand draped casually over his shoulder. There were a few shutter clicks. When it seemed that Joan was satisfied, Hilliard patted Monty’s thigh and went to return to his place at the other end of the sofa, but not before they exchanged a final grin. The camera clicked one more time.
“That’s the money shot right there,” Joan said proudly. “I think I’ve got everything I need for a very entertaining article. I won’t take up any more of your time.”
They walked Ms. Dupree to the door and watched from the porch until she’d backed her car out of the short driveway and disappeared down the street.
“Thank you,” Monty said as they started back inside.
“What for?” Hilliard shut the screen behind them and went to clean up after their guest.
“For doing that with me. I agreed to an interview without my magic so people could see the real Montgomery Kincaid.”
Realization settled heavily over Hilliard as he collected the plate and empty glasses onto the tray. He’d been avoiding using his magic on purpose, then. Still putting on a show with his words, just a different kind.
