Oh. Right. This is where I speak. “Cold feet?” I ask, hoping that’s what an actor would say not only to a director but to a director who possibly wants to work with her again.
Vega’s brow knits, a look of displeasure. “Yes, but ask yourself why, Haven. Why does she have cold feet?”
This feels like one of those dreams when you’re back in school and you didn’t study for the test. I steal a glance at Wanda, like maybe she keeps a crib sheet of actor answers with her. But she’s scanning the streets.
It’s up to me to play the actress. Time to improvise. Like the kid who definitely missed all the classes, I try again, suggesting, “Because her groom is cheating?”
“But she doesn’t know that.” It’s a slap on an actor’s wrist.
Vega taps her toe. I gulp, then try one more time. “Because she’s always wondered if maybe the brother’s best friend is the guy for her?”
That earns me a small, safe nod, then I’m saved by a voice saying, “Two of my favorite people!”
It’s New Chris, striding toward the hotel, his bodyguard by his side. New Chris barely seems to notice that Silas and Ludwig are flanking his security team. The star stops right in front of me, flashing that high-wattage smile, ignoring the hell out of the photographers snapping our picture and shouting questions like, “Bigdate tonight?” “Where are you having dinner?” “How long have you been together?”
Like he doesn’t even hear them, he looks me in the eyes as if I’m the only person in the world and says, “I think I heard you talking about the big opening scene. I’d love to discuss my ideas for it. Vega and I were going to get a drink and really break it down. Goal, motivation, wants. Are you in?”
I draw a big blank when it comes to excuses. I stand like a fish with my mouth open. Shoot. Haven would never do that. Haven would say yes. “Of course.”
New Chris turns to the pack of pushy photogs, his grin never faltering as he says, “To answer your question, I’m having a drink with my co-star and my director.”
And that is how I wind up pretending to be my sister for another hour. I’ll take my Oscar right now, thank you very much.
I sink into a booth in the corner of Prohibition Spirit an hour later, exhausted and utterly relieved. I texted Haven a heads-up so she knows what happened, then I sent an emergency get-your-asses-over-here-stat text to my friends. Chloe and Bridget are here while Wanda watches the door.
First, I confess our twin trick, and Bridget swats my arm. “You fooled me.”
I blow on my nails. “When you’re good, you’re good.”
“More like when you have matching DNA with another person, you’re good,” she corrects.
“That’s true too,” I say, then I tell them all about how I was corralled by the director and the movie star into a quick drink to discuss where the characters were before the scene, what they want, and who they are. “Mostly I learned I’m terrible at bullshitting.”
“I want to feel sorry for you, but this is what you get when you play twin tricks on me,” Bridget says.
I pluck at my shirt. “I mean, I was sweating. I think I have pit stains. That acting stuff is hard.”
Chloe lifts a glass. “Amen. I’m pretty sure I’m an excellent me, but a terrible someone else.”
“Let’s all drink to being excellent me’s,” Bridget offers.
I lift my old-fashioned, and we clink glasses.
Then, I take a deep, fortifying breath and tell them what I couldn’t say to my sister. I can’t keep it inside any longer. “I think I’m falling for my bodyguard.”
They huddle closer, and Chloe goes first. “Really? That’s so good, especially because you’ve been so gun-shy since Eric Patrick.”
She’s not entirely wrong. But my fear of closeness started long before then, and well before I worried I had a terrible track record with men. “It’s not just him—not just my ex. Or exes. It’s…” I pause and swallow past the deep-seated fears that have lived in me ever since I was fifteen and my life changed irrevocably. “It’s just I don’t think people stick around.”
“Oh, sweet friend,” Chloe says, giving me a side hug.
“We do,” Bridget says gently, rubbing my shoulder.
My eyes shine, but I fight off the tears. “I know that. I do. You two always have been there. So has Haven. But it’s not aboutthat.” I tap my sternum. “It’s aboutthis. And how it broke when my parents died.”
They nod thoughtfully, understanding completely.
“But I have to move past it. Icanmove past it. It’s time.” I swipe away an errant tear on my cheek. “Dating and romance aren’t the same as what happened to my parents. I’m learning that. I need to remember that.”
