Longing

  “Brandon, you’re amazing. How did you set all this up?”

  “Really, Bailey?” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers. “I take you to the top of the Empire State Building for a Skype date? Certainly I can find a way to take you to the prom.”

  She looked dizzy with it all, and he wondered if he’d ever been this happy. He led her onto the patio, and waiting there was a portable speaker with an iPod connector. And next to it was a small table set with two full fluted glasses and a half-full bottle of orange soda nearby.

  “Your favorite and mine.” He smiled at her. “But then you already knew that.”

  “I did.” Her eyes welled up, despite the smile that filled her face. “I can’t believe this … all of this.”

  “I want to make a toast.” He made a funny face. “Not sure they make toasts at proms. But at this prom we do.”

  He swore off drinking after finding faith in God, not because there was anything wrong with having a glass of wine here and there. But because he couldn’t afford for his witness to be affected by the appearance of partying. He’d already lived that life, and now … with his very public faith he needed to make sure the paparazzi never snapped a picture of him drinking, never gave him a reason for someone to mock his beliefs.

  “Hold on.” He took a glass and gave her one. “Okay … here’s the toast.” He looked straight into her eyes, to the newfound pathway he’d worn to the depths of her heart. “To the next five weeks … and the next five years … and every day God gives us together after that. That you would know even partly how much I love you.”

  This time her tears got the best of her. They filled her eyes and spilled onto her cheeks. “Brandon, I …” She shook her head, trying to find control. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Baby, that’s easy …” He held the glass out to the side and touched his forehead to hers. “Tell me you love me.”

  “I love you.” She didn’t hesitate, didn’t look away. “I love you so much.”

  “Okay, then.” He held the glass up and clinked it against hers. “A toast to today and tomorrow … as long as God gives us.”

  “Cheers.” She smiled, her cheeks already dry from the cool winter air.

  They both took a long sip and he held onto the moment. The night was perfect, and the coats had made it possible. “Now … some dancing.” He made a funny face, one that elicited a quick laugh from her. “A prom isn’t a prom without dancing. Even I know that much.”

  He took his iPod from his jeans pocket and hooked it to the top of the portable speaker. The playlist was something he’d worked on late last night. It started off with Taylor Swift’s “Sparks Fly.” Brandon waited until the music was playing, then he swept into a graceful bow and grinned at her. “My lady?”

  “My prince …” She took his hand and they swayed to the music. Their coats allowed them to keep a little distance between them. They laughed and danced and talked and swayed through the entire playlist, a series of songs by Adele and Owl City and Michael Bublé. The last song by Lady Antebellum was “Just a Kiss.” The lyrics talked about how they only needed a kiss — nothing more — because this love might be the kind that lasted forever.

  “I love this.” Bailey whispered near his ear as they danced. “It’s exactly how I feel.” She smiled at him. “About you.” “The perfect song.”

  The cold night hadn’t even been a factor while they danced, and Brandon silently thanked the Lord for letting every detail work out so smoothly. When the song ended, Brandon framed her face with his hands. “Your cheeks are cold.”

  “But my heart is warm.” She searched his eyes. “I didn’t see this coming. Everything about the night … it’s been perfect.”

  “One more thing.” He took his phone from his other pocket and switched it to camera mode. Then he held it out at arm’s length. “A quick picture.”

  She snuggled up beside him and with their cheeks touching Brandon took the picture. Then he tapped a few buttons and typed out a quick message. “For Twitter.” He held the phone up for her to see.

  “Went to prom tonight with the prettiest girl in the world!” She tapped the attached link and up came the picture they’d just taken. “Brandon!” She turned to him. “That’s the nicest thing ever. Your fans are gonna be brokenhearted.”

  “No other girl matters, Bailey. When I’m with you …” his voice grew softer, “I want to tell the whole world. And since we can’t dance in front of them, I can at least do this.”

  They hugged again, and he led her back across the roof and down to the front door of the Kellers’ apartment. “My ride’s waiting for me.”

  “Wanna come in? Watch TV or a movie?”

  “I meet with my trainer at five in the morning.” He grinned. “Maybe next time.”

  “Okay.” She looked shy, her eyes still bright from all that had happened that night. “Then I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “You’re a very, very good dancer, Bailey.” He put his hand up alongside her face again. “Not just here, but onstage. I could’ve watched you forever.”

  She lowered her chin, and her expression told him she was too full, too moved to say much. After a few seconds she managed a quiet: “Thank you.”

  Then in the sweetest moment of the night, he drew her close and kissed her. “Sleep well.” He whispered. “I love you, Bailey.”

  “The prom was lovely.” She returned his kiss and this time they lingered in the moment a little longer. When she drew back, the longing in her eyes was enough to make his knees weak. She broke the moment with her smile. “Absolutely perfect, Brandon. Everything about tonight.”

  He studied her, his heart at peace. “We didn’t talk about Cody.”

  “No.” Her answer came easily, same as her smile. “It’s a closed door.”

  “Good.” He had no reason to push her, no doubts. “You can tell me details later if you want.”

  “Yes.” Her eyes shone, happier than she’d ever looked. “Not on prom night.”

  They said one last goodbye, and Brandon walked out of the apartment building barely feeling the floor beneath his feet.

  He looked into the night sky as he walked out the front door and jogged down the steps to his waiting SUV. The driver closed the door behind him, and then climbed in the front seat. “A good night, Mr. Paul?”

  “Definitely.” Brandon settled into the seat, still warm from being with her. “I went to the prom.”

  Surprise flashed on the driver’s face. “The prom, sir?”

  “Yes. With the most beautiful girl in the world.”

  Eight

  THE MAGIC OF BRANDON’S FIRST NIGHT IN NEW YORK CITY stayed with Bailey for the next several nights. He managed to be in the audience for each of her performances that week, and on Thursday after the show they stayed at the apartment and watched Tangled with Bob and Betty. The Disney animated movie was a takeoff on the old fairytale about Rapunzel.

  When the movie was over, Bob and Betty said their goodnights. As soon as they were alone, Brandon led Bailey to the sofa near the glass wall in the Kellers’ living room, the one that overlooked the park and the city. “I loved that movie.”

  “Really?” Bailey was glad. “I wasn’t sure. It’s sort of a chick flick.”

  “Not at all.” Brandon looked indignant, and his expression made her laugh. The way he always made her laugh. “The chameleon, the horse, the chase scenes. Come on, Bailey, it was an action movie.”

  She laughed harder, and then remembered Bob and Betty. They didn’t want to keep the older couple awake. “You crack me up.”

  “Honestly … what I loved most was that one line.” He turned and faced her, in no hurry. He brought his fingers to her hair and played with a single strand. “The part where she was a princess worth waiting for.”

  “I liked that part too.” She felt her eyes getting lost in his.

  “That’s you, baby. A princess worth waiting for.”

  How did he do this,
always say exactly the right thing for every moment? “That … that means so much.”

  “It’s true.” He kissed her forehead, and then leaned back and took her hands in his. His expression grew more serious. “Hey … I got a call from my agent today. He’s pressing me about the contract.”

  “Hmm.” Bailey didn’t want to feel worried, but the look in his eyes told her he was concerned. And if he was even a little bothered by the deal, she would be too. “You were going to tell me details, but we ran out of time the other night.”

  “The prom was too special for contract talks.”

  “Contracts and dancing … nope.” She laughed a little. “They don’t go together.”

  “But tonight …” His smile eased off. “I want your opinion.”

  “So … tell me about it.”

  Brandon took a long breath, like he was trying to figure out where to begin. “It started with the studio. They offered me a contract for seven movies.”

  “Seven?” The number was so high. “That’s crazy … how would they even know what movies you’d want to do that far out?”

  “Exactly.” He went on for the next fifteen minutes explaining how they struggled with his good-boy image and how they expected him to do edgier movies, pictures that weren’t PG or even PG-13. “They think R-rated films win bigger awards and make an actor more legitimate.”

  “People don’t want R-rated movies.”

  “I told them that. It isn’t about what people want.” He looked out the window at the city. “It’s about what the studio wants, who they want me to be. The image they want me to fit.”

  “Wow.” Bailey felt her heart sink. Was he even entertaining playing a bad boy to please the studio? A sense of panic took hold of her. “You’d think they’d be happy with your image.” She gave him a crooked grin. “It’s better than it was.”

  “Exactly.” He laughed, but his shoulders slumped forward a little. “It’s insane, really. Like they’d rather have me smash drunk with a different girl every night than going to church and dating you.”

  Something in Bailey’s heart bristled. “Is that really how they feel?”

  “Pretty much.”

  Bailey needed a moment to think about that. Now it was her turn to stare out the window. What was she doing in an industry where people looked down on a person’s faith and purity? Was she really a light here if that’s the way the entertainment world viewed her? She turned back to Brandon, still lost in thought. “I never thought about it before, but maybe that’s why Francesca doesn’t like me.” She lifted one shoulder and let it fall, fighting the defeat welling inside her.

  “Maybe.” Brandon ran his thumbs along the tops of her hands. “It’s certainly not because of your dancing. I’ve watched you every night this week. You light up the stage more than any dancer out there.”

  “Really?”

  “Definitely.”

  “Hmm.” Bailey settled into a deeper place. “So interesting. The journey of life.”

  They were silent for a moment, and Bailey pictured the years ahead. She held a little tighter to Brandon’s hands. “Makes me wonder.”

  “Bailey …” He seemed to sense that her thoughts were taking her places he couldn’t follow. “There’s a point to you being in this business … if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  “You know me.” She looked into his eyes. “Maybe I should go back to Bloomington. Teach at the Christian Kids Theater and forget about New York.”

  He hesitated just long enough to show his concern. “Teach them for what? So they can grow up and find their way to LA or New York only to walk away because it’s tough?” His voice was soothing, without any sort of confrontation. “So they can walk away from an industry that needs them.”

  “But does it? If the people in charge think less of us because we believe? If they insist on making edgier projects? Do they really need us?”

  “Yes.” Brandon chuckled, but the sound held no sense of humor. “Don’t you see? We need more people like you, more light in this business. Then maybe the tables would turn and the world would know …” He paused and released one of her hands. He touched his fingers to her face. “That only when a person’s soul is full of God’s light can true brilliance happen on the screen. The way it happens when you’re in front of an audience or a camera.”

  She loved him for his response. Without saying a word, she released his other hand and slipped her arms around his neck. “Thank you.” She allowed her face to brush against his for a few heartbeats. “I needed that.”

  “I know.” He pressed his forehead to hers and made a silly face. “You were about to pack your bags and run for Indiana.”

  “Hey.” She gave him a sheepish smile. “How do you know me so well?”

  “I pay attention.” He touched the side of her face again. “Love does that.”

  They talked a little longer about the movie choices his management and production team had presented him in the last week. He was ten minutes into the discussion again when his eyes darkened some. “They want me to read with a group of girls when I’m back in LA next.” He made a frustrated face. “A check on whether I’d have chemistry with any of them.”

  Bailey’s confidence took the hit like a ship tossed against a craggy reef. Moments like this she remembered again that her boyfriend wasn’t just any guy pouring out his love and attention on her. He was the nation’s top heartthrob, the actor everyone talked about. After Brandon tweeted the other day about taking the most beautiful girl to the prom, Bailey checked the responses. It felt like most of his eight million followers weighed in that Bailey Flanigan was certainly not the most beautiful girl in the world, and that Brandon would be better single. The marriage proposals alone were daunting.

  Still, none of that really bothered her. He loved her, she was sure about that. It was this part of his life that was hardest to live with. The fact that the people he trusted, his management team and the studio execs, wanted to pair him up with girls he might have chemistry with. The perfect scenario was the actor who every season, every film, might have a steamy romance with his co-star. That sort of marketing was a studio’s dream.

  “You’re quiet.” Brandon studied her, as if he understood what she was feeling. “That bothers you? The girls … the chemistry?”

  She smiled. “Yeah … a little.” This didn’t surprise her. “It’s like your team is setting you up.”

  “Only if I let it be like that.”‘ He took her hands again, his voice strong and sincere. “That’s business … it’s pretend.”

  She watched him, searching his eyes. “I believe you.” And she did. Brandon had no interest in having an affair on set — she knew that. Bailey took a settling breath through her clenched teeth and willed herself to look relaxed, confident.

  Bailey had chosen Broadway, but right now she wished she might be asked to the table, as one of the possible leading ladies for Brandon. Again he seemed to know what she was thinking. “Babe, I told them I wanted to do another movie with you. They promised me … they’re looking for the right script.” Nothing about this conversation ruffled him. His eyes danced. “I told them it had to be the perfect love story.”

  He’d talked about this before, and always Bailey had laughed, not really taking him seriously. But this time she nodded, weighing the possibilities. “I’d like that.”

  “It’d be amazing.” He leaned in slowly and kissed her. “And think …” He brought his lips to hers again. “About the hours of rehearsal.”

  She loved this, the way it felt here beside him on the sofa, here in the late-night peace and sanctity of Bob and Betty’s home. But the unsettled pieces of his future stopped her from enjoying the moment completely.

  “Bailey …” He looked deep into her soul. “I feel you, baby. Your heart. You don’t have to worry. I promise …” He framed her face and wove his fingers into her hair. “I won’t take a picture that disappoints you … or God.” He kissed her once more.

  Her wor
ds didn’t come quickly, but they came. “I believe you. I do, Brandon.” Her hands were on his shoulders, his muscles taut beneath her fingertips. They shouldn’t spend too much longer here. “Thanks for talking … for sharing with me.”

  The fact that he wanted to talk to her about his professional life made her feel closer to him. Like they’d moved past mere magical moments and were headed toward a real connection. A lasting relationship. The feeling both exhilarated and terrified her.

  She eased back, and as she did she realized how badly they needed space between them. “I’m getting water.” She felt him get up and follow her.

  “Me too. Then I should probably go.”

  This was another thing she appreciated about him. The fact that he knew when it was time to go. She never had to remind him or have that awkward conversation where she stepped back and asked him to respect her. He simply did. It was further proof of the change in him, the way he wanted this relationship to be different than those he’d experienced in the past.

  They drank their water in silence and she walked him to the door. “When do you have to let them know? About the contract?”

  “Soon.” He bit his lip, less confusion in his eyes. “I’ll make sure the creative clause gets in there. Where I have final say on the projects we green-light.” He stroked her hair lightly, letting his hand rest on her shoulder. “One movie at a time, babe … nothing that would hurt me or us.” He came closer, his voice quieter. “I promise.”

  Their goodbye didn’t take as long as usual, and after he was gone Bailey could practically feel herself pulling away. What in the world was she doing, dating Brandon Paul? Every movie would involve some girl, some beautiful actress whose chemistry with her boyfriend would have to be practically explosive before the studios would agree to it. That, combined with their efforts to see him be edgier, less faith-driven — who could stand up to that kind of pressure?

  She went to her room, dropped to the edge of the bed, and closed her eyes.

  I’m in over my head, Lord … maybe I shouldn’t be dating him.

  My daughter …