CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
________
EMMA
We stayed back to meet all the actors in the musical. Some of them were still in costume, and we all circled around folding tables with glasses of even more champagne. Waiters struggled with trays of miniature canapés.
I felt as if a pink warm cloud hugged me when I was introduced to all the actors, musicians, and everyone else who was involved in the play.
It was all a little overwhelming: the drink, the laughter, different conversations circling at the same time. Maybe it was the bubbles from the fizzy wine, or maybe it was the glamour of it taking me off guard, but I struggled to pay attention to anyone or anything that wasn’t James.
Maybe it was just my growing feelings for him.
His mere presence illuminated the room, not just his dazzling good looks, but the way he stood—confident, no matter the situation.
I was so engrossed in watching him move around the room, that I didn’t notice the brunette talking to me. “Pardon?”
“Are you also an actress?” she repeated.
I shook my head. “No, I….” How could I say to a girl with perfect white teeth, who looked like she was born with a silver spoon, that I worked in a supermarket? “I’m a cashier,” I answered with a smile, then took a sip of my drink.
She looked at me, searching for something. When I didn’t give her anything in return, she burst out laughing. “Good one, you’re so funny!”
Staring at my glass, I grinned. “Yes, yes I am.”
“How are you getting on, ladies?” James said, as he approached us.
The smiley brunette touched his arm and giggled. “Oh, you know, girly talk.”
James smiled back at her, but his simmering blue eyes stayed with me. My heart fluttered with the intensity of his gaze.
John’s voice boomed in the room, his walk determined as he made his way towards us. “Do you guys have plans for tonight?”
Unsure, I looked at James and he answered for both of us. “Not really.”
John rubbed his hands together in delight. “Wonderful, I have a friend who has an exhibition uptown. Now, the gallery is probably closed to the public, but he is having a few people over for drinks. Would you like to come?”
Even though I lived in Edinburgh all my life, and the place was renowned for its culture, I’d never been into an art gallery, never had the motivation, or simply the reason to go into one.
Before I could even think of what it would entail, James nodded, took out his phone, and said, “Let me tell Jane. She loves that kind of thing.”
My stomach threatened to bottom out. Jane. My first night here and he was calling her. Who was I kidding? Why did I expect a night with just the two of us?
The notion killed me. I was the friend, and I was going to be labelled that forever.
I took in a big breath and tried my hardest to smile. “Sounds like fun,” I lied.
________
Anthony drove past Jane’s apartment, which wasn’t far from Broadway. She was adamant that we didn’t need to, that she could call a driver and she would meet us outside the gallery. That suited me fine, but it was James’s idea of picking her up, and there was no arguing with him. I, on the other hand, would have to trail behind them like a third wheel.
We parked outside Jane’s building, a building where I would imagine Carrie Bradshaw from Sex and the City popping out any minute and hailing a taxi. Instead, I saw Jane open the door and skip towards the car. I hadn’t noticed before, but a couple of photographers stood outside and took advantage of the situation by taking a few photographs.
I slid in my seat so they wouldn’t see me inside the car.
James patted my hand. “Don’t worry, they can’t see you. We have tinted windows.”
I nodded as Jane’s chirpy voice echoed inside the car. “This is so exciting. Thank you for picking me up, honey!” she said as she sat beside James.
Her face held a huge smile that showed her pearly white teeth, her face and hair done to perfection, and she wore a dress that looked like it was made to measure.
“Hey, Emma, lovely to see you!” She blew a kiss in my direction. “I think it’s wonderful that you came over to visit. You’ll love New York.”
I felt guilty for resenting her; she was perfect and kind. But her cheerfulness got on my nerves. The way she talked and touched James…. I clenched my teeth together and offered her a smile, hoping it didn’t look too much like a grimace.
I then tried my hardest to ignore that she brushed her manicured hands through James’s hair. I wanted so desperately for it to be my hand doing exactly what hers was doing. Instead, I bit my lip and rubbed my hands against my jeans. God, this trip was a bad idea.
“I only arrived today, but I already think the city is—” I couldn’t find the words to describe it. It wasn’t like she was paying attention to what I was saying though. She kept looking at him, touching him. “—amazing,” I ended up saying, for my benefit more than hers.
The ride to the gallery took an eternity. They didn’t kiss or do anything crazy like dry hump, but the intimacy killed me, so instead of holding a conversation, I looked out the window until we arrived.