“I don’t know that that’s the truth.” She’d sort of started to enjoy depending on him.
Irina’s phone chimed in her purse. The special ringtone she used for casting directors and her agent.
She pulled it out, hopeful that maybe someone had an actress emergency and needed her presence immediately, so she wouldn’t have to walk back out and try to save face in front of everyone.
The message was from the casting director for the play.
“Oh my God.” Irina blinked at the message. “Holy crap.”
They want me. Well, maybe they want me. They don’t not want me.
“Good news?” Knox asked, pulling himself from his funk.
“Uh…” Irina did a little shimmy number. “I got a callback. The callback. Holy crap.” She wiped at her forehead like she was taking her temperature.
The shot of adrenaline helped wipe out any residual grumpy with Knox and his implication she might be a big leaking jerkface. “It’s happening, Knox.”
“You deserve it.” He stood. “We should celebrate.”
“Yes. Celebrate.” Irina squeed.
“Good thing we’ve got a champagne fountain on tap for tomorrow,” he said. “Is the big callback after the honeymoon or do we need to postpone the islands?”
Well, she hadn’t read that far. Instead of answering, Irina scrolled through the instructions, her heart dropping a little with each line and the scrolling slowing with each word.
“What? Are they requiring a blood sacrifice?” he joked.
Actually, that might be easier than the real issue. She took a deep breath. There was always a solution when things looked like they wouldn’t work out.
Phone still in her palm, she glanced up to her groom.
Yes, there was always a solution.
“No, things are fabulous,” she said. “I got a callback.” She sang that last part singsong.
They were. Everything was fine.
Even if the callback she’d waited her whole life for was scheduled during her wedding.
Chapter Fifteen
KNOX
“It is seriously hardto start Operation Make Irina Permanent if she isn’t even here,” Linx grumbled. The guy was acting like an actual ring bearer—he needed juice, a nap, and someone to comb his hair for him.
“The permanent thing is still up in the air.” Knox pulled his bow tie taut.
“Because she’s not actually here?” Bax asked.
Well, that didn’t help things. But, also, “Because…we haven’t renegotiated.”
“But you still want to,” Bax said, tossing his rolled-up black socks into the air, catching them, then tossing again.
Knox hoped those hadn’t been on his feet yet.
“I need time to figure out what I want.” Knox sighed.
“How does it make you feel when you think about the divorce?” Linx asked.
