He moved for the door. “Let’s go get a coffee. Get a breast of fresh air.”
THEY STOOD AT an espresso bar, waiting for their shots, while Nick prattled on about how good the read had been. “I’ll say it again, you suggesting we record together, here? Brilliant.”
Sewanee smiled tightly. “Thanks.” She took her little cup from the woman behind the counter and blew on it. Something had occurred to her on the walk over, a possible explanation for his disconnection from the material. “So, considering you never wanted to do one of your aunt’s books, was it awkward for you to read the sex scene?”
“Surprisingly, no.” Nick threw back his shot, tossed the paper cup away. “Maybe I’m just inured to Romance at this point. Like, if you kill people for a living does it matter who gives the orders?”
Sewanee chuckled, added a small spoonful of raw sugar to her cup, and stirred slowly. She wanted to take this further, but also wanted to tread carefully. Then again, they didn’t need to talk about it. It was just a job. A job he didn’t want to do anymore, anyway. Who was she to tell him how to do something he’d had enormous success doing?
She noticed they were being crowded out of the small shop, so she downed her espresso and they wandered out to the piazza, taking a seat on some granite steps at the feet of a bronze gryphon.
At her silence, he bumped her knee with his. “Euro for your thoughts?”
“Oh, it’s nothing.”
He studied her. “You’re not feeling insecure about your work, are you? Because if I haven’t said it enough, I’m sorry. You’re remarkable, you really are.”
She could barely contain her surprise. “Oh! No, God, no. That’s so . . . thoughtful of you. No, I’m just trying to figure something out.”
He reached over, tucked a wind-blown ribbon of hair behind her ear. “What?”
“I was just wondering . . .” Abort, abort, abort. “You know what, never mind.”
“Sewanee, come on. We can be honest with each other. Whatever it is, we’ll deal with it. Talk to me.”
She looked into the welcome mat of his gaze, dusted off just for her. “Okay. I wasn’t . . . I couldn’t tell if you were invested in what we did today.”
“Me?” Nick’s grin hung in place. “Invested how?”
Sewanee shrugged. “In your performance.”
The grin flickered like neon about to go out. “I mean. That’s how I do it.”
“Right, and it’s great,” she assured him, touching his thigh. “All I’m saying is . . . when you’re Brock? You seem detached.”
Nick pulled his knee out from under her hand. He busied himself with removing his jacket. “Detached?”
“Yeah. I mean, did you feel connected to me at all? As we read together?” He seemed confused by the question, so she tried another way in. “Why did you want to do Duet?”
He pulled a pack of cigarettes out of the jacket now slung onto the steps. “Jason suggested we do the last two episodes as Duet Narration because listeners like Duet. They think it’s hotter.”
“But it’s only hotter when the two people actually work off of each other. What was the point of reading it together if it sounds as if we didn’t?”
Nick scoffed. “What are you, a director now? I thought it would be cool to read it together, that’s all. Why are you making this such a big deal?”
“Why are you being a smart-ass?”
“Why are we fighting–are we fighting?” The grin was back, but it was forced and he looked bewildered. He lit his cigarette.
“We’re not fighting, okay?” She touched his thigh again. “You don’t need to get defensive–”
“I’m not getting defensive,” he said, once again dodging her hand, this time standing. “I just don’t know what you think I should have done differently.” He sounded exasperated as he blew out his first puff.
“Invest more of yourself.”
Now he spoke slowly, as if explaining something to a child for the umpteenth time. “I don’t want to invest more. I want out.”
Her hackles went up at his tone. “And I think if you invested more of yourself you might not want out. I think–”
“More of what self?”
“Nick!”
He threw back his head, answering his name. “What?!”
“No.” Sewanee huffed out a frustrated laugh. “Nick! Yourself. Your real self.” She paused. “You’ve put a firewall between Nick and Brock. Why? Together, they’re something special.”