“This won’t work.” I sink onto a lounge chair beside the pool, completely exhausted. And discouraged.
“It’ll work.” Gigi hands me a glass of water and flops down into the chair beside me. “Shit, why didn’t you tell me it was wet?”
“Everything’s wet. It’s been raining all day.”
“Ugh. Great. I’ll have to change before theETpeople get here. No way I’m getting caught on camera looking like crap.”
“So, Enid Connor’s here? For real? LiketheEnid Connor?” I still can’t believe Zion convinced her to come here, at a moment’s notice. But then, I had no idea she was a closet kinkster herself. I mean, now that I know it, some of her filming choices make so much more sense. But I guess Zion knew—or had an inkling—and his people called and asked for a favor and then she and Zion talked on the phone for an hour last night and she flew out from California. For the cause, she said. But also, I’m guessing, because this is the kind of thing that would push her career into the stratosphere. As long as none of it implodes.
“Yep. In her cabin, just getting ready for our fifth day of shooting.”
“First.”
“Fifth,” Gigi corrects me. “You’ve been shooting since you left DC, remember? That’s the story.” Someone beyond the pool area yells, another voice replies, and a group of people goes by, carrying something. They’re dressed in day clothes, which is so weird to see it takes me a second to realize I’ve seen most of them in various states of undress—and probably in flagrante, as well.
“Right. Crap.” I squeeze my temples and bend over, wishing we had more time or more options or, I don’t know, a real project to work on. “We’ve aimed too high, Geege. Something’s going to give.”
“Mm mm.” She sips at her soda and eyes the empty pool. “Soon as all the industry people leave, I’m stripping off and diving in there. Rain or shine.” She turns my way, sliding her sunglasses down to give me The Stare. “And you are gonna put on whatever costume Lamé throws at you and just, you know, be the kinky sex goddess you are. For the cameras this time, instead of for your annoyingly gorgeous husband.” Her eyes go narrow. “And Blade. And whoever else your husband decides to share you with in the future.”
“Hey, it was my choice. I’m the one who wanted to do it with two men.” I sniff and then, just to bug her, mostly, I say, “And maybe I’ll ask for more in the future. Maybe I’ll let him share me with—”
“Goddamn it, Twyla, I’m just jealous.”
“Jealous? Why? You’re not into this stuff, are you?”
She gives a nonchalant shrug. “Might be.”
I sit forward so fast I spill water down my front. “Serious?”
“If I’d known they looked like Blade and Benji around here, I’d have come sooner.”
I snort and sink back into the chair. “I’m just…” I shake my head. “Nobody’s gonna believe that it’smein that first video.”
“Oh, didn’t I tell you? It’s all over. Boom. Done. Youarethe woman in the video. We leaked the news this morning. It’s everywhere.”
“They bought it?”
She nods, looking happily sly. “Aaaaaaand, the assface responsible for all of this is catching a lot of flack on social.”
“Hey! I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” Max runs up, breathing hard. “We’ve got news.”
“Okay.” I brace for whatever’s next. Good, bad. Life-changing. “Okay. I’m ready.”
Max gives me that cheeky little snaggletooth grin that I love so much and I instantly relax a notch or two. “Two big studio execs showed up and, guess what?”
I pop out of my seat like a jack-in-the-box, all nerves and excitement. “What? Who? Why are they here? What did Zion do?”
“He signed on for a fourthEverwarsmovie.”
In the next breath, all the stress pours out, leaving me almost boneless with relief. “They’re doing it? They agreed?”
She nods, her lips going tight with suppressed glee. “And guess who’s headlining with him—at their request?”
I stare. “Who?”
“You, you dingdong.” Gigi slaps my arm and squeezes it tight. I stare at her hand for a few numb seconds, still not getting what this means exactly. “She means you. That’s what I was trying to tell you. They reached out to me a couple hours ago and we finally hammered things out. A little rushed, but as of the release of yesterday’s video, you’re a hot commodity.”
A hot commodity? Headlining with Zion? Myactualhusband, Zion? Slowly, the cloud of confusion lifts and in its wake, there’s fear and intimidation, the notion that I’m not good enough or big enough for this. “What? I’m not an action star. Oh no, am I going to have to wear a harness and jump and—”
