Take Four

  He stopped and took both her hands in his, facing her. “What if…what if you make me happy?”

  Her heart pounded, because she knew from his expression that this time he wasn’t teasing at all. Gone was the slick attempt at hitting on her. Instead this was Brandon being genuine and caring, truly interested in her. She didn’t know how to handle the glimpse he’d given her into his heart, so she did the only thing she could do. She giggled. “You make me laugh, you know that?”

  For a long moment it looked like he might correct her, explain he wasn’t kidding and he was truly interested in her. But people were being urged to take their places, and warm-ups were happening all around them. Tim was explaining they should probably take their seats, and he was leading them to a secret passageway that ran below the stage to the theater area. So instead of saying anything that might dampen the mood, Brandon allowed his famous smile to fill his face once more. “Come on…” he released one of her hands but kept the other, running after the group so they could all be seated together. “We’ve got the best seats in the house.”

  During the show, she thought at first he was going to have her sit between Katy and Lisa again, but at the last minute he took the spot beside her. “Let ’em talk, that’s what I say.”

  Bailey wasn’t too worried. They’d managed to get through their entire day without anyone catching them in the same picture together. And here in the theater there were no flash pictures allowed anyway. The paparazzi would be waiting outside, but not in here.

  The show started with a dramatic clash of cymbals and the famous music the entire theater world had come to know. Bailey could hardly breathe, she was so excited, so anxious for Tim and what it must’ve felt like to be in the wings, about to take the stage for Wicked right here in New York City. She silently prayed God would bless his performance and that in the midst of the often ungodly lifestyles that made up theater life, Tim would become a very bright light.

  The show opened with the ensemble singing to Glinda, who was above them in her bubble. Bailey watched closely and, sure enough, the first thing the actress did was make eye contact with Brandon, seated beside her. Bailey was sure Brandon noticed her make eye contact with him, so what he did next took her by surprise.

  He discretely reached for her hand and held it—not with his fingers laced between hers the way he certainly would if this were a date, but in a nonthreatening way that told her he wasn’t interested in Glinda. Not tonight. This trip to New York was a gift to her. To Bailey. And no matter who tried to interrupt their time together, Brandon wasn’t going to let it happen.

  Bailey didn’t move her hand. She liked this, sitting here watching Tim perform in Wicked, holding Brandon Paul’s hand the way she’d hold the hand of one of her brothers. She felt like they’d reached a new level in their friendship on this whirlwind trip, and she was grateful. The cast began singing “No One Mourns the Wicked,” and as the chorus built, Bailey felt tears in her eyes. How amazing that this was really happening for Tim, and that God had placed her in such a major leading role for her first real acting part? A year ago they’d prayed about the plans God had for them, but neither of them could’ve dreamed they’d be here.

  Well before intermission, before the house lights came up Brandon released her hand. He leaned close again and whispered. “See, Bailey…no one will think a thing.”

  “Good.” She smiled at him, careful to keep her tone light. She felt her eyes sparkle in the darkness of the theater seats. “Wouldn’t want you to tarnish my reputation.”

  He laughed, and she was grateful he hadn’t taken her too seriously. The last thing she wanted was to hurt him. If he had a crush on her, it would pass. Brandon had plenty of girls to choose from—she’d seen that much back stage before the show. At intermission, Brandon stayed in his seat, his eyes downcast. But, even so, a buzz had begun to spread through the theater, much as it had at FAO Schwarz. Brandon Paul was here…in person…right in the third row!

  A few minutes before the lights went down again, three people lined up to ask him for an autograph or a picture, but the security guards at the front of the theater ordered them back to their seats and apologized to Brandon. Keith must have informed them to keep fans away so they could enjoy the show. “Sorry about that,” one of the guys told them. “It won’t happen again.”

  Brandon brushed it off. “No big deal.” And it wasn’t. Brandon had a way of handling the public adoration so that it didn’t make him seem bigger than life. He was approachable—same way he came across on the screen. It was probably one of the reasons he was so wildly popular.

  In the second act Brandon held her hand again, and for a few minutes Bailey let the headiness of it all get to her again. This was Brandon Paul, after all. The world’s hottest heartthrob, sitting beside her, asking if she was jealous of Glinda. Brandon Paul with his hand wrapped around hers. What would it be like dating him? Allowing herself to fall for a guy like Brandon? But as soon as the thought flitted through her mind, she dismissed it.

  The idea didn’t resurface until after one in the morning, when they were halfway home on his private jet. By then the cabin was dark and the others were sleeping. Brandon slipped back to the sofa where Bailey was stretched out, and he carefully moved her legs so her feet were on the floor again. He took the spot beside her and put his arm around her again. “This was one of the greatest nights of my life.”

  Her heart beat harder than it had since they left Bloomington, and she wondered if he was going to try to kiss her. She swallowed hard, inching just a little away from him. “Isn’t that supposed to be my line?” She laughed quietly. “I’m the one who feels like Cinderella.”

  “You could feel like that every day of your life.” He put his hand alongside her face and looked deep into her eyes. “I mean it, Bailey. I’m crazy about you.”

  “Brandon,” she uttered a quick urgent prayer for the right words. “Your kindness means the world to me.” She put her hand over his and gently removed it from her face. “But I told you…I’m in love with Cody. If I weren’t…if things were different, maybe…maybe.”

  He didn’t break eye contact, didn’t look away. Something in his expression told her he’d probably never been turned down by anyone other than her. “Can you at least…can you consider me as an option? For down the road?”

  The fact that he was serious almost made her laugh out loud. Their conversation still felt like something scripted, a scene she might watch in a movie, not a real dialogue playing out between her and Brandon. He was waiting, and she didn’t want to frustrate him. “I can do that.” She nodded, willing herself to be more serious, because in truth it was like her mom had told her a while ago. Brandon was a person like anyone else, and he saw something in Bailey that he wanted.

  He grabbed a remote control and clicked a button. A video screen flipped down from the ceiling a few feet away. “Wanna watch Remember the Titans?”

  This time she did laugh, because he looked so much like a kid, happy to have a friend to watch a movie with.

  “Definitely.”

  He moved his arm from her shoulders and settled for sitting beside her, shoulder-to-shoulder. As the movie started, he caught her eye. “Want to know a secret?”

  “What?” She relaxed, and remembered to enjoy herself.

  “Growing up, I wanted to be a football player. In the worst way.”

  “Really?” She couldn’t picture it. He was so good at what he did, so not the football player type. As good looking as he was, he wasn’t overly tall or muscular. She figured he would probably have been leveled on a football field. But he was being honest with her, so she smiled, understanding. “And I wanted to be on Broadway.”

  This time his smile warmed his expression, and he settled in beside her. “Look at us now.”

  “God had different plans.” She turned toward the screen. “Better plans.”

  As they watched the movie, Bailey realized how often through the night she’d thought about Cody, and h
ow much she missed him. Her parents had often said money and fame would never bring them joy. She could hear her dad telling them true joy could only come from having a passion for the work they’d do when they grew up, from living within their means, and—even more—from the people they surrounded themselves with. Bailey felt the familiar ache in her heart.

  People like Cody.

  She allowed herself to get comfortable on the sofa, and when she mentioned it was a little chilly, Brandon gave her one of the plush throws. “Wrap this around your legs,” he told her. But he didn’t try to share the blanket or move in too close to her.

  Bailey was grateful. By giving her space, she was allowed to think a little more about why God would’ve placed her here. She wondered how many Christians across America prayed for Brandon Paul to find a stronger faith, and she thought about the Bible Katy had given Brandon yesterday. She could hardly wait for him and Dayne to start reading it together.

  That was it, really. That’s why Brandon was falling for her now, why he thought he wanted to date her. It wasn’t that he wanted her—Bailey Flanigan from Bloomington, Indiana. He wanted Bailey’s faith in God. Because more than anything or anyone else, joy came from having faith in God. Bailey believed that with all her heart.

  She could hardly wait for Brandon to believe it too.

  Twenty-Three

  SOMETHING VERY BIG AND VERY DRAMATIC was happening inside Brandon. Like maybe all his days until now had led up to this moment in his life. Against everything he’d told himself leading up to this movie, he was reading the Bible—actually studying Scripture with Dayne and Katy in the early morning before the shoot each day.

  And more than that, he was liking it.

  For the first time in his life there seemed to be answers for his empty life and meaningless relationships. Almost as if life hadn’t made sense until now. But still he didn’t want to get crazy. He was a celebrity, after all. Celebrities didn’t become public Christians—not hardly. He wanted to keep the whole Bible thing as quiet as possible except around one person:

  Bailey Flanigan.

  The producers and their wives and Bailey all spoke some sort of language the rest of the world didn’t seem to know anything about. Except maybe the caterer, Danielle. She was always telling him, “God bless,” and reminding him she was praying for him. And maybe there were others too. There must’ve been because the mood among the cast and crew was definitely different on this set.

  Still, he wasn’t ready to go public with the fact that he was reading the Bible in his spare time. He doubted he ever would. Right now it was enough that the Bible study gave him more common ground with Bailey. After the trip to New York, he had fallen for her a little more every day. She wasn’t interested, and that was fine. For now. Eventually she would change her mind. So the more he knew about her faith, the better chance they’d have of connecting.

  The next two weeks blurred together—one long day of shooting after another. But Brandon never got tired of reporting to the set. Just seeing Bailey made his heart feel light and young and whole again—the way he hadn’t felt since before NTM made him famous.

  Many times Brandon and Bailey watched the dailies together, and he was amazed at what the director was getting. The story was compelling, no doubt. The book was one of his all time favorites. But the movie Unlocked was going to be a piece of work people would talk about for generations—Brandon could see it in the performances they were turning in one day after another.

  “This is more than we prayed for,” Keith said often. “God is blessing us beyond anything we could’ve asked or imagined.”

  Brandon wasn’t sure if the performances were God’s blessings from above or the chemistry between him and Bailey—or the fact that she was simply an undiscovered talent who was only tapping into her potential. But there was no question Keith was right. The footage was stirring and honest and beautiful. Especially the scenes Brandon and Bailey did together.

  Now it was Saturday morning and they were finishing up after meeting for a few hours to catch up on scenes they’d missed during the week. Brandon thought they might work through dinner, but it was a little before noon when Keith called it a wrap. “Danielle’s made a great chicken enchilada casserole—so don’t miss that,” Keith told them as the cast and crew gathered around. “After that, we’ll see you at seven Monday morning.”

  The day was once again unseasonably warm—in the midseventies with sunshine and blue skies as far as they could see. Brandon had been careful about spending time with Bailey off the set. He wanted to respect the fact that she had a boyfriend, or at least that she had feelings for the high school coach. But today he couldn’t stop himself.

  At lunch he sat across from her—careful as always not to give the paparazzi the chance to make more of their friendship than it was. “You know what I haven’t seen?”

  She smiled, and her eyes lit up. “A textbook?”

  He laughed and looked down at his plate for a minute. She was always rubbing it in that she had a full load of college courses to contend with in addition to the shoot. “Actually,” he looked up. “I was thinking about Lake Monroe Beach. Everyone says it’s a great place, but…well, I’ve never been.”

  “Hmmm.” Bailey angled her head. “You’re staying with Dayne and Katy right on the lake. The beach looks like that. Like a lake.”

  This was the comfortable place they’d found together—one marked by laughter and teasing. But this time he gave her a pleading look, the one that employed his best puppy-dog eyes. “Your mom’s not here today…you have a car.”

  “Yes…” She took a bite of her lunch and acted mystified, like she hadn’t the slightest idea what he was getting at. “I should be home studying, don’t you think? Or would you like to write my online English essay?”

  “See, that’s just it. English essays need inspiration, and the best inspiration for that sort of writing is a trip to the lake.”

  “Really, Brandon…I have to get home.” She tried a slightly serious tone. “You’ll see the beach another day.”

  But he wouldn’t give up and, by the end of lunch, Bailey agreed to a quick walk along the shore. She left alone, and then picked him up at the back of the school—out of sight of the paparazzi. When she was sure no one was following them, she drove to the lake, and Brandon raised his brow, impressed. “Our Southern California lakes look nothing like this. More like craters in a desert.”

  “Sign me up.” She laughed lightly. “Sounds like a great vacation spot.”

  “Not really.” Brandon made an exaggerated look. “People rent houseboats and drink enough beer so they don’t notice the surroundings.” He peered out at Lake Monroe. “But this…wow. How cold’s the water.”

  “Great in July. Today…a little cooler.” Her eyes took on a faraway look. “Lots of memories out here.”

  “I’m sure.” Brandon figured she was probably thinking about the young coach, but he didn’t want to ask. This day was about the two of them, no one else. “Let’s take a walk.”

  “Okay.” Bailey smiled, the faraway look gone. “Come on. I’ll take you down near the water. There’s a path that’s pretty easy.”

  “What?” He jumped out of the car and held his hands up. “I don’t look like I can take on the tougher paths?”

  She laughed and shook her head. “Not really.” She hesitated and came up alongside him. “Just kidding. You could probably swim across the lake.”

  He puffed out his chest. “Now that’s what I’m talking about.” They walked down an earthen path toward the water, and then stayed on a sandy section of shore at the lake’s edge. It was less of a walk and more of a meandering, which suited Brandon fine. He trusted Bailey more than any girl he’d ever known. Now that she’d made time for him, he felt old feelings welling up inside him. Frustration and anger from his childhood. He had a feeling Bailey would listen, and right now—for the first time in years—he wanted to talk about it. “Remember I told you it’d been a long time since
I’d been in a Sunday school class?”

  Bailey angled her head, not rushed. “I figured you were kidding.”

  “Nope.” He stuck his hands in the pockets of his jeans and stared at the far edge of the lake. “I was raised in the church. until I was fourteen.”

  Bailey looked at him, surprised. She must’ve realized this wasn’t a time to tease. Her tone was gentle, sensitive. “After that?” Her attention was completely on whatever he was about to tell her.

  “After that I stopped going,” his tone was tense, the story painful from here. “No one could make me go.”

  She let that sink in for a while. Then she turned to him, their pace slower. “So what happened? God suddenly became the bad guy?”

  “Not at first. But eventually, yeah. I thought He was.” Bran don could see that better now than ever in his life. Another ben efit of the Bible study with Dayne and Katy.

  Bailey’s eyes held no accusation, no judgment. “Maybe start at the beginning.”

  “Yeah.” He breathed in deep. Was he really going to tell her all this? It would be easier to pretend he was shallow, but that wasn’t the truth. There was so much more to him, pieces no one else knew about. He exhaled and turned to her, their pace still slower. “The drama club at school…they were holding auditions. My dad wanted me to go out for football. I was the scrawniest kid out there, and the first day I got knocked flat on my back. Couldn’t breathe for half a minute.” He could hardly believe he was telling her this.

  “Football’s rough. I always worry that my brothers will get hurt.” Again Bailey was understanding. They reached a fallen log and Bailey sat down. She patted the place beside her. “What happened?”

  “I wanted to play. Remember?” He grinned, but his eyes held a pain undimmed by time. “But I couldn’t. I didn’t have it in me.” He told her how the coach had pulled him aside and suggested as kindly as possible that football might not be his thing. “The next day I tried out for the school play. Won a lead role. When my dad heard what happened—that I quit football and got a part in the school play—he sat me down and stared at me, real angry.”