She laughed, shoulders shaking with it. She even squeezed his bicep, which made him nervous.Washe getting fired, or was she just flirting? She didn’t usually lay it on this thick. Especially when no one was in earshot. She usually waited for some of the crew to come close. It was her way of keeping the gossip rags fed, Rusty told him before shooting started back in LA. She made it look like an accident, but she never let anything slip that she didn’t discuss with her agent first.
“Nobody’s going to fire Arthur Pineclaw,” she said. “Seriously, though. You should talk to him later.”
A dozen things ran through Arthur’s head: another movie contract, a bizarre publicity stunt, a last-minute rewrite. Those articles about Emma coming back to bite him in the ass.Movie star’s surprise fling with ex-fiancée while filming in hometown.It was just bad reporting. They were never technically engaged. Even if he had been looking at rings before that fateful Christmas Eve.
“I’ll see what I can do,” he said and grinned.
* * *
He met Rusty at Sour Claw after shooting had ended for the day.
“What a goddamn shoot,” Rusty said, throwing back his second whiskey since they sat down. His face twisted up. “Shit. You did not joke about how crappy this stuff is.Thisis the best they can do?”
Arthur grunted in agreement, swishing it around in his mouth. He hated to admit it, but it was growing on him.
“It was the cold,” he said as Rusty placed the glass down on the dirty bar with a disgusted look.
Rusty looked over. “Huh?”
“All the line flubs.” Arthur winced, performative and handsome. He could do anything handsomely, including apologize. “I’ll do better when we’re out of the subzero temperatures.”
“Right,” Rusty said distractedly. “Sure.”
Arthur stared into his glass. Emma would have poked holes in that excuse without a thought. Nobody ever poked holes in his excuses anymore. Which was good, for a long time. It was better that way. It was certainly easier when no one really knew what was going on with you. When you hardly even knew yourself, perfectly content to believe in the mask you showed everybody. Emma was always pulling back the damn mask, alwaysseeinghim.
Maybe that was what had happened. She’d seen him and decided he wasn’t worth it.
“Arthur. Arthur!”
Arthur jolted. He looked up to find Rusty waving his cap in front of his face expectantly.
“It isnotcold enough for you to be spacey in here,” Rusty announced, shoving his cap back on his balding head. “Hey. So. Wanted to talk to you about something, bud.”
He inched his chair over. Arthur did the same, eyeing a fairy fluttering at the end of the bar with a dishcloth. She’d gotten Arthur to sign her boobs that first night, and she looked like she was going to do her damnedest to listen in before an elderly minotaur hobbled over and pointed toward a broken glass near the toilets.
The fairy fluttered toward where he was pointing, a broom in her hand.
Arthur turned back to Rusty, satisfied no one was going to spill their secrets to the closest tabloid. “What’s up?”
“We think it’d be a good idea for you and Jen to start something before the movie comes out next year.”
Arthur felt his tail flick behind him. He stilled it immediately. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d been asked to start something up with a costar for publicity purposes. Sometimes it was just a few candids, other times it was a genuine relationship. It depended on how far they wanted to take it.
“Right,” Arthur said, straightening his shirt collar. “Of course. Real or fake?”
“Whatever you want.” Rusty took another slug of whiskey. “But between you and me, she’s all for it. Really for it—and you’d have to be an idiot to turnthatdown.”
Arthur laughed. It felt stale, but he was good at his job. Nobody would’ve been able to tell it was bullshit. Nobody except one human who wouldn’t text him back.
“I’m totally with you,” he said.
“Great.” Rusty dug in his jeans pocket. “I’ll let her know. And your agent, she helped me set it up, tell her I said thanks. Now—”
Arthur cut him off. “Actually, can we hold off on that?”
Rusty paused, fingers hovering over the screen. “On telling your agent?”
“On the whole thing.” Arthur beamed, channeling every bit of charm he had into it. “I need to check on something first.”
