An Affair to Remember
By Emilie Rose
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About this ebook
High school drama teacher Jenna Graham is trying to break her streak of always being the invisible twin by becoming a professional actress. When she meets her movie star idol and he asks for her help she quickly falls for him only to discover that for Conrad Carr, she's a body-double for his dead wife.
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An Affair to Remember - Emilie Rose
One
––––––––
If he heard another platitude he’d puke.
From a quiet corner Conrad Carr raked his gaze over the crowded ballroom without making eye contact with anyone. Tara would have been in her element at the glittering, designer-clad Reel New York Awards gala, but he couldn’t wait to leave.
For crying out loud, are they all reading from the same lousy script?
a female voice behind him said.
He glanced over his shoulder and did a double take. For a moment there... No, Tara was gone. But the resemblance between the woman serving drinks and his wife was remarkable. Upon closer inspection the dark haired, dark eyed, sultry bartender didn’t possess Tara’s cool touch-me-not elegance, and the server’s southern drawl certainly didn’t sound like Tara’s well-trained, accent-free diction.
Your wife would be proud of you for adding another award to your collection.
The bartender mimicked the head of one of the largest movie studios perfectly and then rolled her eyes in obvious disgust. A room full of actors and not an original line in the place.
She pointed at his glass. Want me to freshen that?
He glanced down at his untouched drink. The ice had melted into a clear layer on top. Not a convincing prop. Sure.
Their fingers touched. Static electricity sparked between them. The tumbler slipped in her fingers and she caught it with a two-handed grab, sloshing the water from the top.
Oops. Congrats, by the way. An amazing piece of acting, if you don’t mind my saying so, Mr. Carr. You deserved the Best Actor award.
She mopped up the puddle then paused with the ice scoop in her hand and a distant look on her face. I saw the moment your saintly character decided to turn bad. It wasn’t any physical thing you did. It was all in your eyes.
She refilled the glass and passed it back. Man, I wish I could act like that. One day I will.
A wannabe actress working at the post-award show party. Not a surprise. Half the staff in the ritzy hotel ballroom probably wanted into the business. You’re an actress.
Not that you’d notice. Right now I’m officially a former high school drama teacher looking for acting work. Bartending pays the bills.
She grimaced and then the corners of her lush lips curled upward. But that’ll change.
She had the bubbling enthusiasm of someone who hadn’t been crushed by a flood of reality and rejections. An enthusiasm he no longer had. Good luck.
Thanks.
She filled a few more drink orders.
He accepted more congratulations from his peers and choked on a few more platitudes. The bartender was right. The speakers changed, but the same dialog replayed like a stuck record. He flicked back his cuff. How much longer did he have to endure this reminder of the life he’d lost? Less than an hour. And then what? Return to a dark, empty apartment? Ride around in the limo until he was exhausted enough to sleep for a few hours without the nightmares? Neither scenario appealed to him.
A clap on his back splashed his drink over his fingers. One of the nominees from his category weaved by his side. What will the world do without another Conrad Carr-Tara Dean movie? So sad she’s gone, old chap. What will you do without her?
Good question, and one to which he had no answer. Conrad wanted his life back.
He wanted his wife back.
The drunk staggered off, fresh drink in hand, without waiting for a reply.
Insensitive jackass,
the bartender muttered behind him. I bet you’re tired of hearing that.
He found her candor refreshing. You wouldn’t believe how tired.
She passed him a pile of napkins. Yes, I would. I’m an identical twin. Back home nobody says my name without saying Brenna’s first. It’s like we’re each only half a person. She’s the noticeable half.
Exactly. He was only half a person without Tara. And then the rest of what the woman had said snagged his attention. Despite his desire to avoid conversation, he asked, Why is she more noticeable?
Cheerleader, homecoming queen, student body president, Miss Buncombe County, real estate agent of the year...
She listed the details without a trace of jealousy in her voice. You get my drift?
Got it.
If this was the unremarkable twin, then her sister must be stunning. The bartender had big eyes, plump ruby lips, smooth ivory skin and masses of dark hair tucked into a black hair net. Very dramatic. The camera would love her.
Brenna’s not a bad person. She’s just an overachiever.
She retrieved the now-soggy napkins and wiped down the black marble bar. So how long are you going to torture yourself?
Excuse me?
He jerked his gaze away from the exit.
You’re miserable. How long are you going to stay?
I thought you said I was a good actor.
One brow arched. You’re not at the moment.
He exhaled and checked his watch. Another twenty-seven minutes.
The sympathy in her chocolate brown eyes squeezed his chest. What is the worst costume you’ve ever worn and why?
What?
he asked, trying to follow her train of thought.
I’m trying to distract you from your misery. Work with me, Mr. Carr.
The smile tickling his lips surprised him. How long had it been since he’d smiled and meant it? Gladiator. Sand in my shorts.
She flashed a mischievous grin. Well, dang. There goes my fantasy. You were wearing pants under that leather skirt?
A rusty laugh rumbled from his chest. Sorry to disappoint you—
he checked her name tag Jenna.
I’ll survive. Worst scene and why?
"The tunnel in Security Breach. Bugs the size of my hand."
I thought those were fake.
No. They were expensive imports. We weren’t allowed to step on them. They were caught and counted after each take. We lost a few, so they’re out there...somewhere.
She shivered. Ick. Ick. Ick. Worst line?
Why had no other interviewers asked interesting questions like these? I’m not telling. Thank God it hit the cutting room floor.
Her laugh, low, intimate and husky, slid over his skin like velvet. Worst meal?
"Pig’s intestines in Mountain Passage. The smell..." He shuddered.
Chitlins. Not a fan myself, but folks eat them back home.
For months he’d felt like a walking corpse. The bartender’s silly game resuscitated something inside him. Which is where?
Asheville, North Carolina.
She interspersed her answers with serving drinks to the guests who found her remote location.
Long way from Manhattan,
he said once they were alone again.
The soap opera studios won’t come to us.
How long had it been since anyone had spoken honestly to him instead of kissing up? Her openness was a bright spot in what had been a very dark year. When did you move to New York?
Her glow dimmed. Nine months, eleven days ago.
And you left home because...?
She ducked her head and straightened a stack of cocktail napkins. "Why else? I’m tired of being called by my sister’s name. I want people to call her by my name for a change. Becoming the next daytime drama queen should do that, don’t you think? I’ll be in millions of homes every day."
It might. But it’ll cost you.
He thought of the cameras shoved in his face during the dark days after he’d lost Tara. Those cameras waited outside tonight. Paparazzi were like vampires. They wanted to suck every last drop of life from you. When do you finish here?
About five minutes after you end your torture session.