“Sorry. That was gross.”
Ethan swallowed, his mouth dry, words failing him. “Um. No. It’s fine. Not gross.” He took an enormous bite of his own sandwich to prevent him from saying anything else.
They ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes. Grey put down her sandwich for a breather and leaned back in her chair, clasping her iced coffee in both hands and staring out at the pool.
“Did you hear anything about your big movie yet?” Ethan asked.
She turned to look back at him. “What? Oh. Not yet. I’m supposed to have a chemistry read in a week or two, Renata said I should hear any day now.”
“Do you have the pages?”
“Nah. You know how it is. Top secret. I don’t really get it—the book’s been out for, like, a year. How secret can it be?” She leaned over her plate to take another bite of her sandwich.
“If you need to run lines or anything, I can do it. When you get them, I mean.”
She looked at him with surprise. “Really?”
He shrugged. “Sure. That’s what this is all for, right? Your dream role? It’s the least I can do.”
Grey leaned back again, stretching her legs wide and sipping her iced coffee. She looked contemplative. “It’s not my dream role. I mean, getting it would be amazing. The part itself is kind of whatever, though.”
He raised his eyebrows. “So…what? It’s just about being part of the next big thing?” Maybe he’d read her wrong, after all. Maybe she was just in it for the fame for fame’s sake.
“Not like that. I’d never want to be you-famous. No offense.”
He laughed. “None taken. I wouldn’t want to be me-famous, either.”
“Yeah, yeah, we’re all crying our eyes out for you,” she said with a sardonic grin, gesturing vaguely toward the house, the pool, the view. “I just want to get to the point where I have more…” She trailed off.
“Money? Cars? Awards? Instagram followers?” he rattled off.
“Control,” she said, the corner of her mouth twitching slightly.
Ethan leaned back, too, running his fingers through his hair. “Control is a hard thing to come by in this business. Whenever you think you’ve gained some, it usually turns out you’ve just given it up from somewhere else.”
She turned and looked him in the eyes. “That’s deep,” she teased.
He laughed and gave a little half shrug. “Hey, that’s just my experience. Take it or leave it.”
“No, no, I know you’re right. I’ve just— Kamilah and I have been trying to get our stupid movie made forever. We did what you’re supposed to, got some money together and made our own little low-budget thing, did the festivals, won some awards—nothing. No one will produce it. I’d give up some control to have the power to make that happen.” She gestured at him. “I mean, I guess I already did.”
The reminder that she wasn’t sitting there with him by choice sent an odd twinge through him. He ignored it.
“What’s your movie?”
She shifted, bashful. “It’s based on this book,The Empty Chair.Do you know it?” He shook his head and she continued. “It’s this weird experimental horror novel from the twenties. Kind of like a Jazz AgeSuspiria.Kamilah and I were obsessed with it in college.”
“You went to college?”
Grey seemed like she wasn’t sure if she should be offended. “Yeah, USC. Why, is that surprising?”
“No. Well, yes, sort of. You said you were a child star, so I just assumed. I mean, no judgment either way.Ididn’t go.”
“ ‘Star’ is pretty generous. And I didn’t finish. I booked my show the spring of my junior year. I tried to keep going part-time, but it was too much. I had to drop out.”
“Do you ever think about going back?”
She shook her head. “Not really. The degree was never that important to me. I wanted to broaden my horizons a little, see what else was out there for me besides acting. Turns out, not much.”
