Nick opened his eyes.
She pulled back just enough so they could look at each other. He smiled. She smiled. Then she brought her lips to his with the tenderest touch. They suspended there, never breaking eye contact. It wasn’t a taking, like Vegas; it was a giving. An exchange. Of respect, of admiration. The gift of being seen through a kiss.
They eventually parted and leaned back in their chairs.
“Nick.” Despite her smile, her throat tightened slightly. “That was incredible.”
He nodded once. “And I loved doing it. Go figure.” He took her hand. “And I’m sorry for what I said yesterday. You are a director. A damn good one. So between you being you and Stu being Stu, all I can say is, thanks. I needed that.”
“How long did it take you? How many takes?”
“One.”
“Seriously?”
He shrugged. “I imagined you standing there across from me, and I spoke to you.”
Sewanee grinned. “You acted.”
He shook his head. “I was being real.”
She grinned wider. “Exactly.”
Cosmo walked in with his coffee. “He show you what he do last night?”
“Yes he did.”
“Is good, no?”
“Is good, yes.”
Cosmo beamed. “I go set up the room.” He shook his finger at them. “I going to miss you, the both of you.” He went into the live room and started rearranging mics.
Sewanee turned back to Nick. Her hand went to her heart. “Can we keep him?”
Nick chuckled. “I wish we could.”
She gestured at the soundboard. “He is an amazing engineer.”
“And you should hear him on bass.” Off Sewanee’s confused look, Nick said, “We jammed a bit.”
“Last night? It was midnight when you left me.”
Nick scoffed. “It’s a music studio, I knew he’d be here. He happened to be rehearsing with Enzo and Mario and . . . some other O. So I hung out and when they took a break around two, I asked him if he’d let me do another take.”
“And then you went back to your hotel?” she asked rhetorically.
“Well.” Nick rubbed a hand over his scruffy jaw. “The other O had to go home and they needed a guitarist, so–”
“So let me guess.” Sewanee smiled.
So did Nick. “Then, around four or so, the other guys left and Cos opens some vino and then he starts telling me about this American actress he’s had a crush on for years.”
Sewanee laughed. “And he’s like, you’re from America, do you know her?”
Nick laughed, too. “Right? But he didn’t know her name, just knew the show she was on. Very popular here, apparently.”
“What was the show, maybe I know her?”
“It was called Get Chelsea, and when we looked up–”
“Nick!” Sewanee’s eye bugged. “I did a season on that show.”
“And when we looked up the cast, guess who the actress was?”
She blinked at him. Late to the party. “Me.”
“It was driving him mad yesterday.” Nick chuckled. “Swore he recognized you. But he was too embarrassed to ask.”
Sewanee peeked through the glass and caught Cosmo’s eye. He smiled sheepishly and waved. She waved back while saying, through clenched teeth, “This is oddly mortifying.”
“Why? You were great.”
Her head whipped back to Nick. “What?”
“You were. We were able to watch–”
“You watched the show?”
“No.”
She exhaled in relief.
“We found your old demo reel online and watched that.”
Her face heated. Her throat tightened. “Tell me you didn’t.”
Nick shrugged. “Okay, we didn’t.”
“You didn’t?”
Nick laughed. “Of course we did! Why wouldn’t we watch it?” His smile softened. He took a beat. “Why wouldn’t you want us to watch it?”
The answer sat silently between them. Sewanee’s ever-stalking insecurity unable to be spoken aloud. At a loss, she looked down again.
“You were brilliant,” Nick murmured. “Just like you’re brilliant in Casanova. You’re something else, Swan.”
“No,” she mumbled, “I’m someone else.”
Nick’s lips separated. He reached out and tipped her chin up. “Eventually, don’t know when, but eventually? You’re gonna have to stop thinking you’re nothing more than the damaged version of yourself.”