One Night With You by Candace Schuler Page B

actually moving, he gave the impression of circling the pair, encouraging, commanding and, in some way, of protecting them from the distractions of the crowd.
    For, despite the cold drizzle and the brisk wind whipping up off the Bay, Fisherman's Wharf was crowded with curious onlookers. Tourists and locals alike pressed up against the police barricades to watch what was going on. But neither Audrey nor Michael, nor especially Jake, seemed to notice.
    They stood there in the misting rain, Michael in a heavy pea coat and a Greek fisherman's hat shielding him from the elements, Jake in his work shirt and worn denim jeans, a script rolled tightly in one hand, and Audrey looking as lovely as a dew-kissed flower with her marcelled hair flattened to her head by the dampness.
    "She plays me almost better than I did," remarked Dorothea, sniffling into her handkerchief.
    "Hadn't you better do something about that cold? Like get in out of this rain?" asked Desi in a whisper. Jake was a fanatic about disruptions on the set. He had already jumped on her once for making unnecessary noise during a scene. He had jumped on everybody at least once. And once was enough. She had no desire to draw his wrath down on her head again.
    "Nonsense, it's just a sniffle and it isn't raining , dear girl, it's only a light mist," Dorothea argued.
    "Well, let me get you a cup of hot tea, at least." She handed Dorothea the umbrella. "I'll see if I can find some aspirin, too. You look a little flushed."
    "Nonsense," Dorothea said again, stifling another sneeze, but Desi had already moved away. She was back in less than five minutes.
    "Here, take these—" she handed Dorothea the aspirin—and don't argue with me. Jake will have a fit if you get sick on him."
    "I never get sick," Dorothea protested, but she took the aspirin and then wrapped her hands gratefully around the mug of steaming tea.
    No rubies today, Desi noticed, glancing at the gnarled old hands wrapped around the mug. But then, rubies didn't really go with the wool slacks, chic though they were, and heavy coat that Dorothea was wearing today. Not to mention the red-and-white striped muffler around her neck and the jaunty red stocking cap pulled low over her ears.
    That wind was freezing, Desi realized, hunching herself farther into her own heavy purple down coat. It was a wonder that Audrey hadn't already turned blue with the cold. That little fur-collared cloth coat she had on couldn't offer much protection against the bone-chilling cold of a San Francisco winter. And Jake's clothes weren't much better. No jacket, no hat. Somebody should do something about that.
    "Cut," she heard him holler.
    Audrey almost visibly dropped her character and began to shiver. Jake wrapped her in a big blanket, his hands rubbing briskly up and down her arms, heedless of the fact that he, too, was standing bareheaded in the rain.
    And it was rain, Desi thought, even though Dorothea stubbornly referred to it as a light mist.
    "That was great, Audrey. Great," Jake praised her. "You were perfect. You, too, Michael. Both of you were great." He propelled her toward the small trailer that served as her dressing room. "Go inside. Get into some dry clothes. Have a cup of coffee while we get the next scene set up." He kissed the top of her head and pulled the door of the trailer closed as she went in.
    "Weston," he barked then, "get over here. Please."
    Desi sighed, handing the umbrella to Dorothea again in order to answer Jake's summons.
    "Audrey's going to need a complete redo before the next scene," he told her as she approached, his voice sounding strained.
    Desi looked up to tell him that she knew that, and then stopped. His eyes were showing the strain, too, and he looked tired. She wanted to reach up and massage his temples until the tenseness went away.
    He ran his free hand through his hair and looked away from the concern in her eyes.
    Almost, she thought, as if he was afraid to look directly at her for too