ROMANOV AUTUMN
Chapter Fifteen

Jack refused to tell anyone about the incident with the ghost in his bedroom. He decided this was one thing he would like to keep private; he was certain Kathleen would have preferred it that way.

The next couple of weeks, however, went by without much incident. Mr. Gleeson was thrilled with Jack’s drawings, and wasted no time telling him that he was brilliant, and that they would make him famous without question.

Harry, though having told Jack his feelings about dating someone he worked with, and about the discomfort of dating someone older than himself, began flirting with Bridget at every rehearsal. He hung around her dressing room, his chest puffed out and trying to act manly and important. She merely powdered her nose and would pat his head, telling him to, "Shoo and be a good boy."

"She thinks I’m some kind of joke," Harry told Jack.

"I think you’re going about it the wrong way," Jack said, as he began tacking specific drawings to a whiteboard and studying them closely. Harry folded his arms.

"Oh, yeah? And what would you know about women, Jack? Have you ever had a girlfriend, hmm?"

Jack rolled his eyes. "No, but you’re acting a bit full of yourself around her. You have to be natural. Don’t try so hard."

Harry snorted. "If I act like myself, she won’t notice me at all," he grumbled, and Jack patted his shoulder.

"Like you said, what would I know about women? Besides, I have work to do. Mr. Gleeson liked my portraits, but he said he would rather look for a mansion that somewhat fits that design, rather than build one from scratch. To conserve time." He tacked a final drawing to the board just as Mr. Gleeson called his name.

"Jack?" he shouted, and Jack hurried out into the main section of the studio.

"Yes, sir?" he asked, and Mr. Gleeson pointed at Bridget.

"I wanted to discuss when we were going to set up the portrait of Miss Campbell here," he said, and Jack felt his cheeks turn bright red.

"Oh, I…er…" he stuttered, and Bridget chuckled.

"We’re a bit behind schedule, but Ed thinks we ought to start working on it today."

Jack nearly dropped his portfolio. "Today?"

"Yes, Jack. We have to make at least one hundred copies of this portrait to hang up around town."

Jack swallowed, feeling slightly sick to his stomach. "S-sure," he stuttered, as Harry came out of the dressing room, fully dressed for rehearsal.

"Shall we say after lunch, then?" Mr. Gleeson asked, glancing at Bridget, who was hiding a smile.

"Yes. That sounds lovely," she said, and Jack looked at Harry.

"Yeah, that’s fine," he agreed.

"Oh, and Jack, later this week we need to start scouring the area for mansions to use for the base of the set. I’ve made some contacts, and I’ll take you with me to figure out which house looks the best for the set."

Jack nodded again. "That sounds good," he admitted, still feeling the hot blush in his cheeks.

"All right." Mr. Gleeson pulled his watch out of his pocket and peered at the time. "We’ll take an hour lunch break, and then we’ll come back and continue our work."

"Jack, perhaps you and I could go and get a bite to eat together," Bridget suggested, and Harry coughed loudly, which sounded remarkably like, "Don’t you dare."

"Oh, well…" Jack looked at Harry. "Want to come with us?" he asked. "I’d feel weird leaving Harry to eat by himself."

Mr. Gleeson looked pleased, and waved them on. "Go on, then. Enjoy yourselves. Just remember, be back here by 1:30, all right?"

Jack nodded, and Bridget led the way to the main door. Harry quickly caught up after Jack gave him a nudge with his elbow, and he opened the door.

"Thank you," she told him sweetly, and stepped down to the pavement. "Where shall we dine?" Bridget asked. "I am not very used to these lowly sidewalk cafés."

Jack cleared his throat, hoping he wouldn’t sneeze again as he stepped into the sunlight.

"There’s a place on Niger Road that I’ve been to, and it’s not the least bit scroungy," Harry suggested.

"All right. As long as the service is quick and timely."

They walked to the café, and Bridget gazed around the tiny place with curiosity. "It is darling!" she exclaimed as the host came to greet them.

"Three, please," Harry told the middle-aged man, who brought them to an empty booth.

"You can slide in first," Harry offered as Jack took his seat, and Bridget chortled.

"Goodness, my dear, no, I never slide," she gasped, and Harry looked at Jack, who was trying not to laugh out loud. After Harry slid towards the window, Bridget sat down very slowly, smoothing her dress.

"Good afternoon." A waiter came to their table. "What may I get for you to drink?"

"Three Coca-Colas," Harry said, but Bridget shook her head.

"Just a cup of tea for me, please," she corrected, and Jack had to cough to hide a laugh.

"Yes, Ma’am. Two colas and a cup of tea. I’ll be right back." When the waiter left, Bridget turned to Jack.

"So, Jack, where is it that you are from? Are you from California?"

Harry stared, open-mouthed, at his friend, and Jack blushed crimson again.

"I…er…no," he replied. "I came from Wisconsin, actually. That’s where I grew up."

"I see. And do you have any brothers or sisters?"

Jack noticed Harry’s lips tightening in a thin line, and chose to ignore it. "Yeah," he replied. "A younger sister. She’s still living in Wisconsin with our foster mother."

"A foster mother?"

Jack smiled softly. "Our parents died in a fire," he explained. "And a woman adopted us."

"Oh, dear!" Bridget gasped. "I’m terribly sorry. My mother died of scarlet fever only two years ago," she said. "So I know how difficult it is to lose a parent."

Jack nodded. "It was hard," he agreed, and suddenly felt a sharp kick in the shin.

"Ow!" he cried, alarmed, and Bridget jumped.

"What happened?" she asked, alarmed, and Jack gritted his teeth, reaching under the table.

"Bumped my knee."

"Um…" Harry suddenly spoke. "Jack and I need to have a smoke. We’ll be right back."

"Smoke? Dear, didn’t you tell me you were asthmatic?" Bridget asked Jack, who scowled.

"I," Harry corrected, "need a smoke."

"Does Jack need to come with you?" Bridget asked, looking suspicious, and Harry nodded.

"Yes, in fact, he does. Excuse me," Harry apologized, and Bridget scooted out so he could stand up. "Jack?" he added, and Jack sighed in annoyance.

"I’m sorry," he quickly apologized, and followed Harry outside.

"What the hell are you doing, Jack?" Harry snapped, once the door closed behind them. "You know I like her!"

"I’m not flirting with her!" Jack argued. "She’s flirting with me!"

"And you’re not doing anything to stop it," Harry snarled, and Jack rolled his eyes.

"She asked me two questions, Harry. What am I supposed to do, not answer when she talks to me?"

Harry sighed heavily. "Pretend your throat hurts or something," he suggested.

"You’re kidding." Jack snorted. "Harry, this is ridiculous. You speak to her, then, if you’re so desperate for her attention. I didn’t hear you make any introductory comments."

Harry started to say something else, and then looked up at the sky. "Fine. Come on, then."

"We were outside for five seconds," Jack said. "Don’t you think she’ll find it funny that you smoked a cigarette that fast?"

"You go in, then," Harry replied.

"Aren’t you afraid I’ll snatch your dream woman?" Jack asked, annoyed, and Harry glared as Jack stormed inside.

"Is everything all right, sir?" the waiter asked, and Bridget looked up from where she sipped from her cup of tea.

"Yes," Jack replied, sitting down. "I’m sorry," he apologized to Bridget, who smiled at him a little too cheerfully. Jack looked down at the table, grateful that he felt no affection whatsoever towards the leading actress. He hoped Harry wouldn’t take too long smoking.

"So, Jack," Bridget began. "Are you dating anyone?"

Jack had just taken a sip of his Coke, and nearly choked on it. She looked startled as he quickly reached for a napkin, so he wouldn’t spit it all over himself. Thankfully, at that moment, Harry came back in, looking a little kinder, but still stiff as a board. Bridget stood again to let him slide through to the window, and then sat down again.

"So, what were you two talking about?" Harry asked, noticing Jack’s bright red face.

"Nothing important," he croaked, still trying to clear the excess soda out from the wrong pipe.

"Harry here is very single," Jack explained, pointing to his friend, who stared again.

"Oh, really?" Bridget asked, sounding bored, and Jack sighed.

"Bridget, I’m sorry, but I…I’m not quite ready to start dating yet."

"With your good looks? My dear, a young man as adorable as yourself, I’m surprised you’re not wanting to put yourself out there!" Bridget exclaimed, and it was Harry’s turn to choke on his drink.

Jack tapped the edge of the table, and then glanced over his shoulder. "I’m suddenly not feeling really all that hungry," he admitted. "I think I’m going to go for a walk."

"Alone?" she asked, and he looked at Harry with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes," Jack replied. "Alone."

"He’s rather partial to keep to himself, Jack," Harry explained, giving his friend a grateful look after Jack put his money for the drink and the food on the table. "And my hot dog’s on me, Harry, if you want it," he added, and, after shooting Bridget a glance, made his way for the main door. He stepped outside onto the pavement, relieved to get away. He leaned against the wall for a moment, rubbing his free hand over his face. It was going to be extremely awkward drawing Bridget naked, especially if she kept hitting on him like this. He sighed, deciding to go for a little walk on the beach. He still had a good forty minutes before he had to return to the studio, and the sea breeze always comforted him when he was feeling stressed out.

Jack smiled as he saw a little girl squealing with delight, clutching the end of a kite string when he got onto the sand. Her father was standing a few feet away, grinning as she begged him to, "Let it go, Daddy! Let it go! I’m gonna make it fly real high this time!"

The father let the kite loose, and the little girl immediately took off down the length of the beach.

Jack passed them, making his way towards the water’s edge. A seagull stood picking at the insides of a crab that he had found, and was fluttering its wings in the wind. It let out a surprised squawk when it noticed Jack, and immediately abandoned its prey. Jack watched as it flew high towards the clouds, and shook his head with a smirk.

"Sorry," he apologized, shrugging and making his way towards the rocks. The beach was mostly empty, due to the slightly chillier, windier weather that afternoon. It was still somewhat clear, though clouds, he could tell, were making their way inland.

Jack sat on the rocks and let the ocean spray against his cheeks, periodically checking his watch to make sure he wasn’t going to be late going back to work. At 1:15, he decided he would head back to the studio, hoping Bridget and Harry were more comfortable around each other than they seemed to be before he left them.

When he arrived, in fact, Harry pulled him aside. "You’re a lifesaver, Jack," he whispered. "Bridget finally seems interested in me! She invited me to her place for a drink tonight."

Jack managed a smile. "Congratulations," he replied, and Harry patted his shoulder.

"Sorry I was short with you before," he apologized, and Jack shook his head.

"It’s nothing, really," he insisted. "I’m glad you got her."

Mr. Gleeson called Jack into his office around three and had him sit down.

"Is everything okay?" Jack asked, and Mr. Gleeson nodded.

"We’ve found the perfect place, Jack, for the outside of the house."

"The outside?"

"I’ve discovered what we’re going to do about the set. I talked this over with the owner of the mansion, and we’re going to film the outside of their home for the introduction shot, and then there’s a great abandoned barn about a mile down the road that we can fix up for the interior. That way, we won’t be disrupting any daily lives, and we can be free to design the mansion however we want."

Jack wet his lips and folded his arms. "That sounds like a good idea," he agreed.

"It’ll mean giving you more of an opportunity to show what you can do, Jack. I swear, the mansion I’ve found looks almost exactly like this drawing of yours." He pointed to the one sketch hanging on the whiteboard. "It’s absolutely bloody perfect, boy. Now, I think I’ll send Harry home early today, so he won’t be around to distract you from drawing Bridget. You’ll need all your concentration for that."

Jack wanted to tell Mr. Gleeson how he felt about Bridget’s intentions towards him at lunch, but he decided it wasn’t appropriate. "All right," he agreed. "What time do you want me to draw her?"

"Well, I’ll send Harry home around four, and we’ll go from there. But tomorrow, Jack, I’ll take you to the mansion and then to the barn to go over what my vision is, and have you sketch it out. Sound like a plan?"

Jack nodded. "It does, Ed." He still felt awkward calling his boss by his first name, though he decided that in time, he would get used to it. After all, he’d only had one real job in his life, so he didn’t have a lot of people to compare this man to. However, he knew for a fact that his old hotel manager would have fired him instantly if he called him Morton. Who would like to be called that name anyway? Jack thought, smirking a little.

"Good, good. Now it’s…eh…3:15, so I’ll leave you to decide where the best spot here is to draw Bridget. I’m thinking in her dressing room, but it’s surely up to you, Jack. I have to go check on those two lovebirds, however."

Jack blinked as Mr. Gleeson stood up and left the room. Mr. Gleeson was calling Bridget and Harry lovebirds already? Had he spotted them kissing in a corner or something? He shrugged it off, not really interested in Harry’s sex life, and decided to take a look around Bridget’s dressing room. He could hear her shrill laughter as he walked into the main part of the building, squinting in the dim light. Mr. Atwood stood by one wall, muttering to himself and jotting down notes on a pad.

Jack hadn’t spoken to the agent much since he’d read over the contract; it seemed as though Mr. Atwood was too busy trying to keep Edison and his cronies away from their studio.

Chapter Sixteen
Stories