“Good. Slow on the exhale,” I say. We repeat the process three times before I speak again. “You nailed those interviews,” I tell her.
Brinley plays off the comment with one of her signature moves. The shrug of one shoulder and the subtle shake of her head. It’s her way of admitting she didn’t slaughter them, yet she didn’t exactly blow anyone out of the water. But she’s wrong. She most definitely did. Brinley’s authenticity is magnetic. She sees past the crap that clouds most people’s perspective when it comes to fame.
“You’re around people like this every day,” I remind her. “This is your industry too. Just keep being yourself. If we see your dad…” I shrug, “then we see him. If we see Char, we see her. I’ll be right by your side the entire time, doting on you like a man in love.”
She holds my gaze, seeming to test my final words. I do the same—a man in love. It’s accurate, and I don’t care who knows it.
At last, Brinley cracks a small grin. “Right. Thank you. It doesn’t matter that he’s here. It’s fine. I’m fine.”
I move in and wrap my arms solidly around her. “Good.” I press a kiss to the silky spot beneath her earlobe. “Now let’s go before I eat you up like the big, bad wolf.”
She pulls back and gives my arm a reproving swat. “And I’m one of the little pigs?”
I chuckle so loud it echoes in the small space. “You’re Goldilocks, silly.” I tug the lock of her hair that frames her face. “Or maybe Gingerlocks.”
“Nice save.” She sucks in one last breath and exhales slowly. “Here’s what we’re going to do,” she says in that let’s-get-‘em tone of hers while lifting one finger. “We’re going to watch our silly screenplay among a roomful of people.”
I note that she didn’t call them stars. “Yep.”
She flicks up a second finger. “We’re going to perform the final scene live.”
“Mmm hmm.” I nod.
“And you know what? It’s totally okay that I have no idea what Libby will choose yet. I’m going to go with it.”
“Just go with it.” That last item reminds me that I don’t know what Nick is yet either—a zompire or a half-Z. Guess I’ll find out backstage when they hand me the capsules.
“Oh,” Brinley adds, “and we get to see if your docuseries takes the win. You still haven’t even told me about that yet.”
“Yeah,” I say. “I will. I think you’ll like it.”
“I’m sure I will.” She loops a hand through my arm and gives it a pull. Brinley’s back to herself, and I couldn’t be more relieved.
As I join her in the hallway, a mass of suits and gowns flowing toward the banquet hall, I lift a prayer to the man upstairs.Please let this go well.
CHAPTER20
Brinley
“I have to tell you,” Patrick Latham says as he leans toward the center of the large table. “These screenplay scenes are hilarious.”
“Andsexy,” Patrick’s wife Shelly interjects.
“I’ll say,” Dawson says with a wink in my direction.
All three of our pre-recorded scenes have aired tonight prior to the commercial breaks. Marsha Langston introduced each of those scenes with a teaser about this season of Time Warp, prompting the filming crew to capture live footage of Dawson and me at the table. We can be affectionate toward one another, we’ve been told, but we should leave space for mystery as to where our feelings are about a future together.
“We’ve had a lot of fun getting into the parts,” I say.
Dawson gives me one of his looks, and I know just what it means.
“Okay,” I add. “It took a little more…effort for me to get into my role, I’ll admit. But Dawson’s a good teacher.”
“Of course, he is.” Patrick gives Dawson an appreciative nod and reaches for his glass. “I look forward to seeing what happens in the final scene.”
I’ve enjoyed sitting with Patrick and his wife this evening. I’m a big fan of his work on Law Sharks & Lions, where he plays a cutthroat, womanizing attorney with, as those at the firm say, an ego as big as his bank account. It’s always interesting to see actors out of character. In many ways, Patrick is the polar opposite of the role he’s played for the last twelve years, a role he won his second Emmy for tonight.
He’s mild-mannered, humble, and attentive to his wife of nearly sixteen years.
