Ill Conceived Plans

Coming clean

Dane stretched his long legs out in front of him and sighed.

He hadn't expected to be here two days before Christmas stretched out on a comfortable lounge chair, drinking coffee and chatting to a beautiful woman. Bur here he was. Filming had progressed quickly, so quickly that they had wrapped early – the director calling it the Christmas miracle. But it was more a case of everyone working full pelt to get it done, looking for the light at the end of the tunnel as fast as humanly possible – all just wanting to get home, home to their families and lives.

All Dane knew was the mud and cold had ended and he had a chance to thaw out.

Still it felt strange to be here, now, doing this, he hoped she'd listen to him, be reasonable.

She looked good, a little tired maybe, but that was to be expected.

"More coffee?" she asked.

"Ah, yes that would be great, I need to be awake, I've got a busy couple of days coming up," he said, yawning involuntarily and on cue, as he offered her his cup now empty cup.

She sighed, so like him, the rest of the world was slowing down but he was still on fast forward.

"You will get some time to rest?" she asked refilling his coffee via her expensive new machine, making herself a second cup in the process.

It was still early and she was tired, too much work and partying on the side (or was it the other way around? – All she knew was that it had been a blast working in the US).

She looked at him, obviously, his set hadn't been all about partying and living the high life. He looked tired, drawn, older than his 35 years and in desperate need of a time out. His brow was furrowed in deep in thought, not an unusual occurrence for Dane, and he had a far-away look in his eyes like his mind was somewhere else (something she was also use to). She had often wondered who he or she was that had him so consumed, though she had her suspicions. His mind wasn't here but his body was, and what a fine body it was she thought, raking an eye over his torso, barely hidden behind a too tight T shirt. She usually liked her men a little......bulkier, but he had bulk where it counted and that was the main thing.

"It's nice to see you," she purred, suddenly feeling a little warm and wet thinking about him, wondering if she should act on those thoughts. Instead, she grabbed some pastries and placed them, and the refilled coffee, on a tray before moving back into the lounge, where he'd sat awkwardly for the past 10 minute, hardly talking but obviously wanting to say something.

They had been so stiff (and not in the good way) and formal at this meeting, but then she hadn't expected him to be here, the phonecall was a surprise enough without this, him coming here, seeing her face-to-face.

To be honest, Sabine had thought the whole romance thing had died, run its course. It had been a summer fling for her, she was young, she'd kind of moved on, another movie-location, another handsome co-star. Not that she was a slut, she was just enjoying a good time while she could, there was no harm in that right?

Sure she liked him, cared for him even and being seen or at least thought of in the same breath as Dane Hilditch was good for her fledgeling career. Now with the award nominations coming, she knew they were drawing more attention as a couple than either of them would on their own. But though Dane could be fun, sexy, goofy and romantic, he had too many moments when he was earnest and serious and it felt like he was somewhere else, wanted to be somewhere else – like he was not entirely with her – like now.

He looked a little startled when she handed him his refreshed coffee and he thanked her politely, still staring aimlessly out the window of her small Paris flat.