I nodded.
Julian cleared his throat. “I’m sorry about last night. I shouldn’t have laughed at your guitar playing.”
“Of course you should have laughed. It was ridiculous,” I said. Admitting this aloud helped. “That video shouldn’t exist, but…not all my songs are that bad,” I dared.
“You’ve got talent, Iris. We can see that. You just haven’t found your feet yet.” He pulled out his phone and thumbed a quick YouTube search. He held out the screen. “Watch. Laugh.”
Over the course of the next thirty-two seconds, I watched the most ridiculous commercial I’ve ever seen. First a girl tried on different swimsuits only to realize she’d gotten her period with a terrible oh no face. The girl’s mom came to the rescue and handed her a box of tampons—and then cut to the girl on some California beach, smiling at a boy playing volleyball. And then for the final shot, they were waist-high in the surf, kissing.
“Is that…”
“Me,” Julian said. “Yes, my very first acting gig was Hunky Beach Guy in a tampon commercial. I’d be thrilled if you didn’t share this with other people, although some a-hole put it on my Wikipedia page.” He fixed the sides of his hair with careful fingers. “Well, I’m out of here tomorrow for the week. Any words of wisdom as I head home to face the girl who’s about to break my heart?”
“What?” I turned to him, almost shouting, “You can’t leave!”
“All my interiors are going to be shot on the soundstage in LA, but I’ll be back for the grand finale in Dingle.” He glanced over the water with me, sighing dramatically—Julianly. “Bonding exercises, ugh. They get extra points for the rowboat. I’m actually surprised Cate waited this long to get on their case, Eamon needing to act like he’s in love with her and all.”
“What?” I asked again like a sound clip.
He motioned to the people in the boat. “Eamon and Shoshanna. Shosh thinks she’s method. You might want to give our boy Eamon a heads up. She’s going after him.”
I squinted at the rowboat, now understanding the silhouette that was Shoshanna’s mighty hair and the lean mark of Eamon’s body, rowing. So Julian was leaving, and Eamon was now Shoshanna’s plaything. Great. My earlier hopes about making real friends and finding love sunk so hard I doubled over.
Julian was trying to read my expression. I suppose it wasn’t hard. “You like him? He’s a decent kisser, I can tell you that much.” We both sort of laughed, but it was painful on my end. “So is this a crush or true liking?”
“What’s the difference?”
“A crush is obligatory—new scene, new people, new crush. Elora says I always get a ‘work crush,’ which she teases me about nonstop.”
“Your fiancée teases you about having crushes on other people?”
“Hey, I’m in the business of kissing. It’s not love in the movies. It’s love and the movies. If the actors don’t love me, the audience doesn’t love me.” He smiled, and again, I had a flash of how different the real Julian was from the on-screen person I’d idolized.
“So a crush is a crush, but real liking is…what exactly?”
“Hard. Impossible. You’ve got to have serious courage to make it work.”
I hung my head. “Yeah, I wouldn’t worry about me then.”
Julian hooked his hands behind his head. “You know why I wanted to be Nolan, Iris? It’s not only that I’m good at romantic roles. Nolan is a great character. Your grandma must have had incredible love in her life to write a guy who gives up body and soul for his girl. If we pull this off, fans are going to fall for Eamon. They’re going to tattoo Nolan on their wrists.”
I honked—a sarcastic laugh turned pained goose.
Julian stared at the sky over the lake, looking for said waterfowl, no doubt. “I want to be that courageous with Elora,” he whispered. “I want to be her Nolan.”
I couldn’t help him there. Not even a little. And I had to work hard not to call Julian a Thornian. Maybe this was the fantasy conversion camp Cate threatened back on the first day.
I squinted at the rowboat. Shoshanna and Eamon stood together, making the boat tip, yelling and laughing. I stood up too, ready to give up, and Julian patted my shoulder. “Don’t look hopeless. Especially if you keep this up.” He gestured to my clothes.
“This is my messy look,” I said, surprised to have my second compliment on this outfit.
“Well, messy is a good look on you.” Julian grinned. “Badass Iris.”
Henrik walked over like he was on a rather serious mission. “Cate wants to see you.” Julian stood up, but Henrik shook his head. “Not you. You.” He pointed to me.
• • •
Cate called, “Come in, Iris!”
Her trailer was identical to the others, except that it was overflowing with office equipment. She sat at the tiny table, reviewing a script on her computer, and pointed for me to sit on the chair across from her. First I had to move a stack of different editions of the Elementia series, which was a little like cradling my trust fund.
She glanced up, all steely eyed—a bird-boned, Irish Vito Corleone. “I have two reasons to thank you. First, Julian’s delivery yesterday was finally in character. He said you gave him new perspective. Secondly, the music for the teaser trailer smashed expectations with the focus group. You have a gift, Iris.”
I shrugged one shoulder, trying not to remember the spectacular gift of Ryder’s iPad flying through the air, my wretched singing coming to an abrupt crack.
“Have you ever thought about becoming a music supervisor?” she asked.
“A what?”
“Someone who selects music for films, TV, et cetera. A soundtrack artist.”
“My dad would freak if I tried to work in Hollywood,” I said. “He’s not a big fan of…you guys.”
“I did notice, but I asked you, not him.” Cate shut her laptop. “Speaking of, I’ve had an email from your father.”
“What? When?”
“About an hour ago.”
I whipped out
