To Will, visiting the back lots of a studio was probably like taking a busman’s holiday, but there wasn’t a single thing that Cassidy didn’t find fascinating, with an almost child-like glee. Every large warehouse structure they passed was the cover of a storybook waiting to be opened; every extra in full costume was someone she wanted to talk to; every truck full of props was an adventure playground. And the streets of the back lot, with houses and storefronts and windows and open doorways, were just calling out for fictional characters to live there and tell their stories. Cassidy could practically see them walking around, hear their voices as they spoke.
She even found her imagination filling in the words…
With her short lap belt undone, she turned in her seat and found Will standing beside the open-sided cart. He held out a large hand to help her down, and in her excitement Cassidy forgot all the reasons why she shouldn’t let him hold on to the hand she slipped into his as he led her down the deserted pseudo-New York street.
After a few steps he asked, ‘You want to see inside?’
Nodding, she threw another smile his way.
So Will took them to the nearest open doorway and stepped back, setting her hand free to allow her to go ahead of him. ‘Some have a room like this they can dress to be any kind of store they want, but most of the buildings only go back a couple of feet from the frontage.’
Cassidy turned a circle in the empty space, tilting her head back to look up at the skeletal structure of wood and ladders. Her nostrils were filled with the scent of that same wood warmed by the Californian heat outside, and it was all too easy to see why there were so many fire extinguishers around. The danger of fire would always be a worry for a studio. The whole place would go up like a tinderbox, wouldn’t it?
‘When they dress the room they put in a false ceiling and leave space to hang the lighting. If you look outside you’ll see there aren’t any door handles or streetlights; they get changed by the props department according to the era of the shoot…’
Drinking in every word, she felt her chest fill with what felt distinctly like joy. It had been such a long time since she’d felt that way. She could have wept with how wonderful everything was. To some it might have seemed false and empty, a charade—but not to her. To her it was a world full of possibilities…
Will’s deep voice lowered until it was barely above a whisper, making Cassidy wonder for a moment if he’d even realised he’d spoken out loud. ‘Yeah, I had a feeling you’d love this.’
Lowering her chin, she caught her breath when she realised how close he was to her. There was the beginning of a smile in the green of his eyes, and the accompanying warmth she could see seemed to reach out and wrap around her like a blanket on a winter’s night. Then his gaze studied each of her eyes in turn, thick lashes flickering.
The intensity forced Cassidy to silently clear her throat before she could speak. ‘I do. It’s amazing. Thank you for bringing me here.’
Will studied her for another long moment that made her feel as if time stood still. Then he took a breath and looked around, shrugging wide shoulders beneath the pale blue shirt he wore loose over his jeans. ‘Sometimes seeing where movies are made can help with the writing process. Anything that can be filmed on a back lot or on a stage saves money on the budget. Studios like that.’
It all came down to business for him, didn’t it? He saw everything in terms of the bottom dollar. Another thing that was different. Yes, Cassidy knew it was part of his job—but it was yet another reminder that he wasn’t the same Will Ryan she had known. In the last twenty-four hours she had actually convinced herself she’d seen brief glimpses of the old Will she had loved. But every time she thought she saw something in him that might help rebuild the merest shadow of the relationship they once had—and would therefore make it easier to remember how well they could work together—it was as if a switch flipped inside him. Then the Will she didn’t know and couldn’t read was back.
It was both disconcerting and frustrating. For a second she even wanted to grasp hold of his wide shoulders and shake him, demand that he let out the Will she knew from behind the impenetrable wall he seemed to have built around himself.
‘I guess you have to worry more about that kind of stuff these days?’
‘I do.’ He wandered around the empty room, glancing briefly out through the windows clouded almost opaque with dust. ‘It’s one thing letting your imagination run riot in a script, but it’s another producing something all the way through onto the screen.’
Cassidy nodded, her gaze following him around the room. He was practically prowling. Almost restless, silently alert, his steps taking him in a wide circle around her. His gaze slid unerringly to tangle with hers at regular intervals, and it felt as if he was assessing her, trying to decide what to say and what not to. It felt vaguely predatory to her. But that was ridiculous…
Finding her mouth dry again, she swallowed, and then dampened her lips before asking, ‘So tell me what your company does.’
Pushing his hands into his pockets—a move Cassidy noticed he made a lot—Will continued circling her. ‘We’re responsible for the development and physical production of films and television shows. Sometimes we’re directly responsible for the raising of funding for a production—sometimes we do it through an intermediary. Then we sell the end product to the big studios when it’s done.’
‘You script some of them yourself?’
‘Some, yes.’
‘Is it easier to sell your scripts if you can produce them?’
‘Not always.’ The corners of his mouth tugged wryly.
He was so guarded. Had Hollywood taught him to be that way? she wondered. It was a tough industry, after all. The fact he’d been successful in it meant he’d had to learn to play hard ball at some point. But then Will had always been driven. He’d had a rougher upbringing than most. To go from fostercare kid, handed from home to home, to end up rich and successful in Hollywood was one heck of an achievement. Surely he knew that?
As jealous as she was of his success, in practically every corner of his life in comparison to how very ordinarily hers had turned out, Cassidy was incredibly proud of him. She just wished she could tell him. Not that he wanted or needed to hear it.
‘One of our productions is filming on one of the sound stages here. You want to go watch for a while?’
It was enough to put the smile back on her face. ‘Can we?’
Will looked amused by her enthusiasm. ‘Wouldn’t have offered if we couldn’t, would I?’
Oh, he could try and make her feel like a child for being so excited by everything he was showing her, but it wasn’t going to stop her feeling that way. She rushed to the door and yanked it open to walk into the bright sunshine, jerking her head and grinning at him. ‘Hurry up, then. We might miss some of the good stuff.’
An hour later she was sitting on a high folding chair, with her hands over the headphones on her ears, watching the small screen in front of her and listening to the dialogue from the actors mere feet from her. She wasn’t even distracted by the fact Will was in a similar chair close beside her—or that every time she glanced at him he was watching her with silent amusement glowing in his eyes. In fact the only thing that took some of the excitement away was when she foolishly allowed reality to seep in around the edges of the experience.
It was a one-off experience for her—and no matter how much joy she felt, it was tainted by the fact it was another fleeting glance of what could have been. Had she been brave enough or selfish enough to leave Ireland behind her, follow the man she loved to California, her life could have been as wrapped up in the world of make-believe as Will’s was. With luck, hard work and Will by her side, maybe she’d have made a go of it too. She