Here is chapter 2 of the tentatively titled "Her Leading Man" - a contemporary romance.

I've actually bombed on my 30-day drawing challenge because Ella and Lane have been on my mind and I'm finally excited about writing again. Thank goodness!

Please bear in mind that this is a work in progress and most definitely a first draft, but I hope you enjoy it anyway.

---

Get caught up:

• Chapter 1

---

image source

Chapter 2

As quickly as she’d gone down, she found herself swooped back onto her feet and someone pounding on her chest.

“Are you all right?
“Are you burnt?

She couldn’t answer the enquiring deep voice as she did her best to keep her composure and not scream that she was on fire. Keeping her eyes closed as if that might lessen the pain, she pulled the scalding blouse away from her angry skin, hastening to wave it, cooling it and her skin only slightly. With deadly calm, Ella quietly grit, “I’m fine. Thank you,” between her teeth.

Oblivious to the patrons staring and a couple of employees buzzing around to clean the floor, she realized her leather portfolio was on the floor and quickly knocked heads with the gentleman as he had the same intention of rescuing it.

Unwilling to fall down again, she grabbed the nearest, sturdiest thing - his shoulder. “Guy,” she started, beyond exasperated now. “My dance card’s full. Back off.”

Rubbing her head now, she finally opened her eyes to gaze upon the darkest, bluest eyes she’d ever seen. The slight crinkle around them indicated his genuine concern; his brogue a bit more pronounced than she recognized - and recognize it she did, for there she was face to face with Lane Tuloch, international movie star and overall hottie.

That’s just fucking great.

“I am so sorry,” he offered. “May I pay for your dry cleaning? Another cup of coffee, perhaps?”

“I think you’ve done quite enough. Thank you.” With what she hoped was her most withering glance, she took her portfolio from his arm and made her way to the sidewalk. Her shirt was sufficiently cool enough where she didn’t have to wave it anymore, and after a brief moment to catch her bearings, she headed south toward…

“Well, shit.” She couldn’t go to an audition looking like something the cat puked up. It didn’t take long to feel hyper aware that people were staring but she was a little pissed and honestly didn’t care at this point. She kept walking in the general direction of the Theater District, which also led to the train station. She’d figure out where she was going once she got there.

About two blocks down, she felt a large presence walking next to her with an extended cup of coffee.

“I think your original intention was to drink it, not to wear it.”

“That was the original plan…but so were a lot of other things,” she mused, graciously taking the offering, then clinked their plastic lids in a mock toast. “Thanks.”

“I wanted to apologize again for knocking into you at the deli.”

“No…I’m sure I wasn’t watching where I was going either.” Then she laughed. “No. I take that back. It was definitely your fault.” She glanced up at him and saw a dimple appear on his cheek. He had kind eyes, and from her vantage point, could see the bump on the bridge of his nose which indicated it’d been broken a time or two. She noticed the bits of white hair caressing his temple and how the wind swiped at his otherwise golden wheat-colored hair. Standing at about 6’4”, the top of her head barely reached his shoulder, but she didn’t feel small next to him. She observed his easy gait and how casual he seemed, especially with the unfastened top button of his dress shirt and sleeves rolled up revealing muscled forearms and a sprinkling of blonde hair.

“Are you certain you’re all right?”

“Sure! Nothing a burn unit couldn’t handle,” she joked.

“I’ll be hammered. You’ve a wicked tongue, woman.”

They walked in comfortable silence for nearly a block before he introduced himself with a simple, “I’m Lane by the way.”

Duh. She thought. Who didn’t know he was Lane Tuloch? But if there was one thing about the city, people didn’t care how famous you were; they left each other alone. It’s how you can tell the residents from the tourists. “Lane. A pleasure. But I’ve got an hour to be somewhere and… Well… Or maybe I’ll go straight home. I don’t know. And I’m getting a honkin’ headache…”

“T’was my stupid cranium smashing into you, weren’t it?” he apologized.

“Look,” she laughed, enjoying his accent and how he said “stee-yoop-id”, “on any other given day I could probably listen to your brogue all day long, but I’ve got to make myself presentable if I decide to go through the audition at all.”

“Audition? Oh, you’re headed for the Theater District then. I’m goin’ that way myself. What’re you auditioning for, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Did she mind him asking? With a shrug of her shoulders, she supposed she didn’t mind at all. “Myself,” she answered.

“Oh.” He was probably expecting a totally different answer. “Well then you’ve got this one in the bag, eh?”

“That’s highly unlikely,” she smiled. “Well, this is my stop,” she announced pausing at the front door of a small theater. That’s when her nerves kicked in as she stood frozen to the spot.

“Right good,” he smiled. “Break a leg then.”

“Yeah,” she breathed, then turned to keep walking toward the train station.

“Wait a minute,” Lane called, catching up to her. “I thought you were auditioning?”

“Look, you’re really sweet but it would be ridiculous for me to go in there an audition. I haven’t been on stage in 30 years. I’ve got to be insane to think this was a good idea to begin with! Who am I trying to kid?” She stopped walking when he grabbed her elbow, turning her to face him where she was once again graced with his unrepentant stare.

His eyes were so dark she could see her reflection in them. He didn’t say anything at first, just looked her straight in the eye, then briefly down her nose to her lips and back to her eyes. She should have felt uncomfortable with this scrutiny from a stranger, but she didn’t.

“Something made you take the step and brought you to this moment. If you go home now, you’ll always wonder. You said you’ve got an hour. That’s an hour to get your shit together, isn’t it?”

He was right, but he had no idea how hard it was climbing out of grief and depression to do something so…out of the box, especially after repressing her heart’s desire her entire adult life. And then she remembered reading something in the newspaper a year or so ago how his wife was tragically killed in an automobile accident, leaving him widowed with two children. Ella distinctly remembered feeling the pain of loss as if it were her own as she shed tears for him and his motherless boys. Maybe, just maybe he did know something about it.

Then she remembered the promise to Cara and felt her strength and fortitude return.

“Dammit,” she breathed.

He quirked an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“How ‘bout we catch a drink when you’re done?” He looked at his watch. “Ah damn, I won’t be along ‘til about five. Meet me at O’Grady’s at six then?”

“Are you in the habit of asking strange women out?” She handed him her empty coffee cup in an attempt to stall, but couldn’t help the little flip flop in the pit of her stomach as she thought about the train schedule.

“Only the ones I try to boil first,” he grinned, but his smile faltered ever-so-slightly as he accepted the cup from her; his eyes focused on her hand.

“No promises,” she smiled. A quick cocktail with a handsome movie star couldn’t hurt, right? Then she rubbed the small goose egg on her head. Or maybe it could.

Flashing a dimple with a parting salute, he turned and walked away, but Ella felt an immediate and lukewarm disconnect. Their easy banter was gone. Glancing down at her hand, she noticed the glint of her gold wedding band winking at her.

---

	This is a 100% STEEM POWER post.

Your comments, upvotes and shares are always appreciated.

Thank you.

For older content, visit my Steemit blog page