Her face morphs from anger to surprise. Mouth parted, her lips quiver as if she wants to laugh. “Kidney?”
“Hurts like a motherfucker.” I scratch my jawline and shrug, letting loose a chuckle. “Besides, I’m not a monster. Since they’re all aspiring actresses, I don’t want to get sued for ruining their ability to find work.”
“Ever the gentleman.”
“I aspire to be.” On the console between us I offer my hand. Wanting to convey how sorry I am, how much I want to comfort her. After a long moment, she places her palm against mine. I give it a squeeze. “But I’m doing a really shitty job if you thought I was mad at you. I wish you didn’t have to deal with this. I wish I could make it better.”
“Jude.” She sighs, and thankfully the indignation is gone from her tone. Her gaze meets mine and in it I sense a vulnerability she doesn’t often share. As quick as it’s there, it’s gone. “Not your problem. Besides, you can’t fix everything. I promise I’m not some hopeless damsel in distress.” She laughs, pulling her hand back into her lap.
“No.” I glance at her, my lips ticking up at the corner. “No, you’re not. I never meant to imply otherwise. I just hate the idea of you living there.”
“You and me both.”
I glance at the clock. We’re good on time, but LA traffic can change in a second, and I don’t want her to be late for her first day on this film set. “I should get you to work.”
“Thank you.” She lifts her gaze and offers me a smile. “I really do appreciate you.”
My chest fills. My lungs tighten. With those simple words I feel ten feet tall. She has that power and she doesn’t even realize. Good thing, because if she did, she’d probably use it to her advantage like every woman before her. No. Rachel isn’t like the others. There’s a goodness in her. She’s not a user, she’s a giver. It’s probably the reason I have an insatiable need to be around her. Why I’d call in a favor simply to make her life easier. It’s terrifying, really, the lengths I’d go for her, and we’re not even together.
19
Rachel
After Jude drops me at the front security office, I check in and receive my clearance passes. I’m familiar with the process, but this is the first time I’ve been granted access to the bigger lot. I wait with a group, and we catch the next shuttle. Inside the studio, I’m met by a PA who shows me to the hair and makeup team, Devin, Roz, Kendall, Amy, and De’Shaun.
“Come on, baby doll.” De’Shaun waves me over. “You’re with me today.” His wide, friendly smile instantly calms my nerves. I also admire his expert use of eyeliner and sense of style. His red shoes, white jeans, and ironic white T-shirt with bold black lettering that reads BOSS BITCH lend a bold and unapologetic style I already love.
“So, how’d you land this gig?”
“Honestly? I don’t know. But I’m grateful to be here.”
He stares as if gauging my words. Almost as if he’s deciphering whether I’m telling the truth. I don’t take offense, because I have nothing to hide. I also know how people lie, claw, and sleep their way to a job in this industry. He’s right to be wary. “Hmm,” he hums, as if surprised at whatever conclusion he comes to about my answer. Then he nods for me to follow. “Shall we?”
I take everything in as he gives me a quick tour of the set and rundown of our day. Apparently, they’ve been prepping for this film for weeks, but the girl with my job checked herself into rehab last weekend and they’ve been scrapping by until production hired a replacement.
“Not gonna lie. When they said they were adding a new girl, I was worried.” De’Shaun blinks exaggeratedly, then shoots me a wink.
I can’t help but laugh. “But you’re not now?” I pick up my pace to meet his longer stride. We weave around a few clusters of people and dodge an incoming golf cart.
“I read auras.” He waves me off. “Yours is pure as honey. We’re gonna get along just fine. That and you didn’t sleep your way to be here.”
“No. Didn’t do that.” I chuckle wryly. “I’d have to be having sex for that to happen.”
He bursts into laughter. “Yeah, we’re gonna get by just fine.” He stops short at one of several trailers and climbs the steps.
De’Shaun knocks on the trailer, then waves for me to follow him inside when the door opens. Cora Bentley. The starlet’s name marked on the door steals my confidence for a second. When I accepted this job, I expected to be put on the team for extras and side characters. Maybe even to act as an assistant or errand girl.
Cora is not just some actress. She’s the actress. Every one of her films in the last few years has been a blockbuster hit. When I saw her name on the cast list, I expected I might see her from afar. Maybe cross paths at the coffee cart or something.
“Morning, Miss Bentley.” De’Shaun offers her an air kiss to each cheek. “Ready for me to play with these gorgeous locks again?” He combs his hands through her blonde tresses with a familiarity that flows between close friends . . . or a stylist and client.
“Do your magic.” Cora takes a sip from the smoothie in her hand, then picks up a stack of papers before heading to a chair.
My mouth is still agape when De’Shaun invites me over. “Rae is our new makeup artist. Though, I think maybe you two already know each other?”
I blink, totally confused, because I would have remembered meeting one
