Chapter Four
As Julia and Sam walked along cobblestone streets, a light mist illuminated in the soft glow of antiquated street lamps.
“So, are you ever going to tell me your name?” Sam asked.
“Julia. Julia Steele.”
“Pretty. Julia. Juliet.” Sam pulled his cigarette pack from his pocket. “Mind if I smoke?”
“No.” She watched as he lit a cigarette and blew smoke into the damp, gray air.
The silence between their brief attempts at small talk unnerved Julia and only served to remind her that she walked late at night, in a foreign town, with a stranger.
“Thank goodness it stopped raining so darn hard,” she said, attempting to keep the conversation going. If Sam was busy talking, he couldn’t devise a plan to kill her. “It was miserable on our way over, and we ran all the way, which is why I didn’t really pay attention to the directions.”
“Ah.” He still wasn’t much for words.
“So. Do you live here? You sound British.”
“I live in London.” He stared straight ahead as if lost in some thought she could not reach.
“Oh, I have always wanted to visit England! I’m fascinated by the history, especially the Elizabethan period, and visiting London would be like a dream for me. You’re so lucky to live there!”
“Oh, it doesn’t seem all that intoxicating when you’ve lived there all your life as I have.”
Julia pressed on. “Why are you here, in Rothenburg? Are you doing a commercial or something?”
“No. I’m on holiday, so to speak. I find it utterly maddening to sit about my flat and wait for my agent to ring about the mini-series. It could be days before I hear.”
“I see. I guess it’s like when I’m waiting to find out if I got a part in a play, except in school, they post the results instead of calling.”
“Yes, only this sort of rejection feels bloody worse,” Sam said. “Because this is my career on the line.”
“Right.” Julia felt excited for him. “But how wonderful if you do get it!”
“Let’s not talk about it, shall we? Just rattles my nerves, I’m afraid.”
She glanced up at the tall man, afraid she angered him. But he smiled kindly at her.
She offered an apologetic smile. “You did say you came here so you wouldn’t think about it and all I do is go on about it.”
Sam laughed. “That’s all right. Not to worry, love. The more you talk, the less I can think, and that’s a good thing.”
“Okay.” Julia changed the subject. “So, why did you pick Rothenburg to visit? Do you have family here?”
Sam tossed his unfinished cigarette on the street and ground it with his shoe. His face drew taut. “No family. Tell me about your acting.”
“I’m no professional. I just did it in school.”
“Are you good?”
Sam’s question threw her. No one had ever questioned her talent before. She always won the roles she sought, tried her best and audiences responded in kind. Would Sam consider that talent?
“Are you good?” she asked, evading an answer.
Sam threw his head back and laughed. “Well, I guess that remains to be seen, doesn’t it?”
