Wicked Heart (Starcrossed #3)(6)

He clasps his hands together and smiles. “So, with all that in mind, let’s see what we can create together. Let’s work through the first scene. Places!”

Over the next few hours, we block out the first three scenes in the first act.

At first, Angel is way too nice as Kate. After Marco asks her to be stronger, she goes too far in the other direction and plays Kate’s scenes with her sister and father like a screaming banshee who’s likely to hack them to pieces, Lizzie Borden style.

I’m no director, but I think Marco’s going to insist on a little more subtlety.

Liam, on the other hand, is excellent right off the bat. His Petruchio is passionate and charismatic, and he has great chemistry with the actors playing his servant and friends.

Being in the rehearsal room with him again reminds me how mesmerizing he is up close. I’m embarrassed to say I’ve watched the Rageheart series too many times to count. But as powerful and intense as Liam is on-screen, he’s even more so in the flesh. It’s refreshing to see him play a character so different from that brooding and violent demon. His version of Petruchio is a lovable rogue, and I’d almost forgotten how stunning he is when he smiles. He didn’t do it much while he was massacring all those sadistic angel overlords.

As I look around, I notice that every single person has their eyes glued to him, and this is why he’s a star. Liam is one of those actors who just has it. It’s part talent, and part confidence, and just enough raw vulnerability to make you want to fuck him and hug him at the same time. At least, that’s how he affects most women.

Despite being a six-foot-three wall of rippling muscle who could no doubt beat anyone who messed with him into a bloody pulp, he makes you want to take care of him.

“Did you know he was this talented?” Marco asks when I release the cast for a coffee break.

“He was excellent as Romeo,” I say. “I wasn’t sure how he’d handle this role, but it fits him like a glove.”

Marco nods. “I only wish Angel were as good. I’d hoped she’d bring some level of complexity to Katherine. But she’s playing her as a two-dimensional screamer.”

“Art imitating life,” our production intern, Denise, mumbles beside me.

“Watch how you talk about my woman,” Josh says. “Hating her just because she’s beautiful and rich is not the least bit cool.”

“Oh, please,” Denise says. “Even if she ate someone alive, you’d defend her because she gives you a boner, right, Josh?”

Josh opens his mouth to protest but thinks better of it. “I decline to answer.”

Denise snorts. “Josh, I love you, but look at you and then look at Liam Quinn. Who do you think she’s going to pick to have babies with?”

When Josh sneezes “Fuck you” and flips her the bird, I have to laugh. It’s not that he’s not attractive, because he totally is, in a hot-geek sort of way. Six foot tall, brown, wavy hair, brown eyes, handsome face. He’s broad-shouldered enough to look great in clothes without needing to work out, and girls seem to find his hipster horn-rim glasses sexy. But the harsh reality is, if he and Liam were cast in a movie together, Liam would be the superhero, and Josh would be the sidekick.

“Doubt all you like,” Josh says with a shrug. “But that woman is going to be all over me in a few weeks. Mark my words.”

“Sure she is.” I pat his shoulder and then head out into the hallway to round up the cast from their break. When I find Liam at the water cooler, I try not to look directly into his eyes. “We’re starting again, Mr. Quinn.”

He mutters a quiet “Thanks, Liss,” and I walk away before he can say anything else.

Once everyone’s back, we continue where we left off, and apart from Angel’s screeching her lines like a medieval fish merchant, we’re all pleased with how things are shaping up by the time lunch rolls around.

As usual, I eat at my desk.

I have a small office down the corridor from the rehearsal room. It’s not the Ritz, but it suits me fine. When I’m not rehearsing, I’m usually in here, catching up on paperwork while everyone else is relaxing.

Ah, the glamorous life of a stage manager.

I’m working on adjustments to the rehearsal schedule when Josh rushes in. His cheeks and ears are bright pink. That only happens when he’s really angry or really turned on.

“Hey. What’s up?”

“Nothing. I need money. Angel needs something else to eat.”

We’ve turned our conference room into a private dining area so Angel and Liam don’t have to push through the fans and paps to eat lunch. Some of New York’s finest restaurants deliver their meals, but it’s Josh and Denise who have the pleasure of being their waiters.

I smile. “Why are you blushing? What did Angel do?”

“Nothing. She’s fine.” I raise my brow at him and he shoves his hands in his pockets. “She used this sort of flirty, sexy tone to explain she’s gluten-free this week, and then, at the end, she stroked my arm and smiled.”

“That bitch.”

“Don’t give me shit. Seriously, I’m not in the mood. This woman could flirt me into committing murder, I have no doubt. Now, give me cash. I’ll get her a different lunch.” He holds out his hand.

I pull out the petty-cash tin and hand him a fifty. Surely that’s enough to cover whatever Angel wants. Josh grabs a second fifty and shoves the money in his pocket. “Back soon.”