I narrow my eyes at the mirror, and now she’s the one who startles a little in her pose. Good. It’s nice to see her be the one caught off guard for once. But the longer I hold my stare, the more I realize she’s doing just fine in the sweltering heat, and she knows not to mop up her sweat, and once she’s back in pose, she stays put. Actually, she looks a whole lot more graceful than I do. And is that an Om tattooed on the back of her neck, partially concealed by her ponytail?
Maybe she’s not just here to spy on me.
Forget about her, I order myself as we drop into toe stands. Clear your damn head, Vanessa Park. So I do. For the rest of the ninety-minute class, I forget about Brianna, and that Josh Chester is a pain in my ass, and that my best friend lives across the country, and that my parents want me to be someone I’m not, and that my career has an uncertain future, and that I need to get my own place. With the exception of the occasional superfast water break, I do nothing but pose, breathe, and sweat.
When it’s over, I avoid all eye contact as I give myself a thorough wipe-down. I love the class, but afterward, I always feel gross. It’s liberating, sometimes, getting to look that disgusting without worrying about cameras or whatever, but now, of course, Brianna’s here, seeing me bathed in sweat, my face a freaking tomato.
I kinda hope she’ll just walk out, but no such luck.
“Fancy meeting you here,” she says as she walks over, taking a long sip from the bottle of water in her hand. “And no, before you ask, I’m not here spying for my mother.”
My lips twitch. “I wasn’t thinking that,” I lie.
“Oh, yes, you were. But I’m not. I used to go to the five o’clock, but I had to change it up now that I’ve started the internship with Jade.” A trickle of sweat slides down her forehead, and she swipes it away. “Well, that, and my ex-girlfriend still goes to the five o’clock,” she adds sheepishly.
Ex-girlfriend? “I thought you had an ex-boyfriend,” I say, then realize how stalker-y that sounds. “I just mean, you mentioned him at the party. The Zombie Camp fan.”
“That too,” she says with a grin, then takes another sip of water. “I’m an equal-opportunity leave-relationship-destruction-in-my-wake kind of girl.” She says it like she’s just informed me she has no preference between vanilla and chocolate fro-yo, but there’s a hint of a challenge in her eyes, like she’s waiting for me to judge her. Which just reminds me that she doesn’t know me any better than I know her.
“I hope the girlfriend had better taste in movies.” I pat down my face and neck one more time with my towel, then take a long drink.
Her lips quirk up in the corner, and I feel like I’ve passed some sort of test. “So, is this your usual class?”
“Yup. Raoul and I are buds.”
“I’ll bet. What do you usually do afterward?”
“Um, shower?” I gesture down at where sweat has seeped through my…everything, basically.
She laughs. “Probably a good plan.”
It’s a good opening to ask if she wants to hang out, but before I can figure out how, she says, “Well, unless you’re showering all day tomorrow, too, are you up for a shopping trip after filming? Jade says you need something new for the exhibit opening Friday night, and I need to buy something that’s not business-casual. I swear, I’ve never worn so many pantsuits in my life.”
“Jade has you wearing pantsuits?” It’s impossible to imagine punky, quirky Brianna in something so straitlaced, but then again…Jade.
“Jade would have birthed me in a pantsuit if she could have.” Brianna rolls her eyes, which are actually kind of warm in their makeup-free, glasses-free state. “We’re talking about a woman who insists I call her by her first name at all times, so that I never slip out of being ‘professional.’”
“Huh. So she really is like that twenty-four hours a day.”
“Seven days a week,” she confirms. “So, are you up for it?”
I think about my conversation with Ally. And I think about the fact that I’m still not sure how much I trust Brianna. And then I think about the fact that, if I say no, I’m gonna have a very long night of stressing ahead.
And I say, “Sure, why not?”
Chapter Seven
Josh
By the end of my first three weeks, we’ve got two episodes in the can and I can’t remember if I’ve ever worked this hard in my life. I’ve had to wake up at seven almost every day, and it’s killing me. I’ve barely gone out because I can’t stand the hangovers anymore, not to mention that my beer gut was getting a little out of control. I’ll be damned if Holloway maintains his rep as the show’s “body” while he’s basically on vacation in the Valley.
I let myself into Holloway’s trailer — which he barely even uses these days — and let out a long, loud groan. I’m tired as balls, and all I want is a shower and a nap before I go out with the guys again tonight. I groan again as I drop onto his couch. Feels like it’s been fucking hours since I’ve gotten off my feet.
A frantic knocking sounds at the door, and then I hear, “Liam, are you okay? It sounds like there’s an animal dying in there.”
Pushing myself up off the couch, I realize K-drama’s on the other side of the door. I swing it open. “Just the party animal that once resided within me,” I say dramatically, leaning against the doorpost. “What’s up?”
“What are you doing in here?”
“I need a shower, and the guest stars get lousy digs,” I inform her, raking a hand through my hair. “They really don’t appreciate where the true talent lies.”
She rolls her eyes. “How strange of them. But just as well I found you — your agent’s lurking around here. I assume she’s looking for you to tell you she’s had enough of you.”
More likely she’s looking for me to nag me to pick a script for once this guest arc’s up. “Lemme just shower, and—”
“Is that him?” I stifle a groan as Holly joins Vanessa. “There you are. Did you get that script I sent over? Wings of Phoenix?”
“That’s filming in Philly, right?” asks Van. “Aren’t you banned from there after that whole incident at City Hall?”
“I swear, people have no sense of humor. You’d think they’d be more immune to innocent actor shenanigans, given that Transformers filmed there. I’ll read it anyway — I’m sure they’re over it by now. Probably. I paid for the fire damage, anyway. Or maybe it was the water damage. Whatever it was, I threw money at it.”
Holly exhales sharply. “Meanwhile, everyone seems to think I’m also your publicist and manager. Have you thought about getting an actual publicist?”
“And suppress his natural charm?” Vanessa says sweetly, laughing when I give her the finger.
“Whatever gets me fewer e-mails. Dylan Mackenzie wants to make sure you’re still in for the celebrity golf thing next Sunday.”
“Tell him I wouldn’t miss it, and ask if his girlfriend will be back in that little argyle skirt.”
“I’ll be sure to. Glory Thompson called to confirm your radio interview tomorrow—”
“Reschedule for Thursday. I’m back on set tomorrow.”
“And I confirmed your dentist appointment for Thursday as well.”
I shudder. “Can we reschedule that one for never?”
“Joshua.” Vanessa fixes me with a look. “She’s not your assistant.”
“Neither are you,” I remind her, “so unless you’re going to be helpful…”