101 Pieces of Me by Veronica Bennett Read Free Book Online Page B

kissing across tables. But most important, I was with a charming man, who, I realized with heart-stopping excitement, was himself charmed. By
me
.
    It was the most enjoyable evening I had ever experienced. David was at ease with the wealth surrounding him. He was known to the hotel staff and exchanged pleasantries with them and with several groups of people who greeted him as we passed. Most delightful of all, every woman who entered the dining room noticed David. Some allowed their gaze to alight on him after a few seconds, some only after they were seated and had begun to look around. They whispered to their escorts, who would then turn as unobtrusively as they could and look at David too. He took no notice, but I allowed my imagination to race away. What must they be saying?
“Look, there is David Penn, the film director. And who is that lovely girl with him? What an exquisite fur she’s wearing!”
    Looking back, such speculation was childish, but I was not so much a child as to betray any confidences to my parents. I told them nothing, though all I could think of as I wrote was the delicious knowledge that David had singled me out and taken me to the smartest hotel in London. When he had opened the car door for me to go home alone because he had decided to stay at his club for the night, he had put his hands on my shoulders and kissed my cheek softly, his lips barely brushing my skin. “Good night, princess,” he had said. “Thank you for a wonderful evening. Sleep well, and I’ll see you at seven o’clock.”
    Dazed and happy, I had climbed into the car. And before he closed the door, he had leaned in and kissed me again, with a little more purpose.

O f course, the next morning I felt ill. I staggered downstairs and into the car, and at the studio Maria looked at me, smiled and brought me a glass of water. I drank it, and several more, and took with gratitude the aspirins she offered. “I must be sickening for something,” I told her apologetically. “I hope I don’t start sneezing in the middle of a scene.”
    She was still smiling. “You won’t.”
    Luckily, David wanted to film other people’s scenes first that day. I lay on the sofa in my dressing room, waiting to feel better. In the middle of the morning, there was a knock on the door.
    Assuming it was David, I sat up eagerly. “Come in!”
    It was Aidan. He was in costume, without his wig, as usual, and looking untidy; it took me a few seconds to realize that he had not yet shaved that day, and the make-up people had not started on him. “Your dressing room’s bigger than mine,” he said mildly. “I suppose that means you’re the star of this fiasco. So, I hear you and David hit the town last night.”
    “Well, we went to the Ritz,” I told him blankly. Keeping my voice unenthusiastic would, I hoped, encourage him to go away.
    “Judging by the look of you, you must have put away a fair amount.” He smiled, not very sincerely. “More than David, I’d say.”
    I neither remembered nor cared how much David had drunk. I did not reply but closed my eyes and lay back on my cushions. I heard nothing for a couple of minutes. Then, assuming Aidan had gone, I opened my eyes. He was sitting on my dressing stool, his elbows on his knees, his hands hanging loosely. On his face was a look of such … intensity, I can only call it, that I actually flinched.
    “What are you afraid of?” he asked.
    His tone was not his usual light, careless one, nor was it his “acting” one. There was something in it I had not heard before. And he went on looking at me, his eyes full of questions.
    “I do not know what you mean,” I said truthfully.
    “Just then, when you saw me. You started, as if afraid. Why?”
    “I was surprised. I thought you had gone.”
    “Is that all?”
    “Of course.” I swung my feet down to the floor and faced him squarely. “Aidan, I do not feel well, and I do not wish to answer these pointless questions. Will you please let me