I closed the script and gathered my bag and towel. I’d have to corner Cole alone later.
“You taking off?” Stella asked, less than disappointed.
“Yeah. It’s a little hot for me.”
“Don’t forget to pay that bar tab,” Cole said.
“Already took care of it.” I shouldered my bag as I stood. “See you guys later.”
Intending to go for a dip in the pool, I strode toward the shaded path that led up the hill from the beach to the restaurant and infinity pool, but stopped when I spied Madison, our nanny actress, posing against a palm tree. She wore a red bikini that accentuated her curves, her long dark hair swept over one shoulder while making bedroom eyes at her phone, which was strapped to the branch of a nearby flowering bush with a GorillaPod. The GorillaPod slipped before the timer on the phone camera went off, and she cursed and reset it. I froze and quickly ducked behind a screen of dense leaves and white blossoms. I really didn’t feel like getting conscripted into taking photos of Madison right now.
A YouTube star with only one season of a television show and a horror film under her belt, Madison had been a last-minute addition to the cast when the girl we’d originally chosen had unexpectedly dropped out a week ago. Madison was no one’s first or even second choice, but she was the only actress on the short list available for the immediate start date and pitiful salary we were offering, so here she was, bringing her 1.1 million followers along for the ride. Fun fact about Madison: she’d been briefly involved with my father while she was on the television show—which was under the umbrella of the studio he ran—but as far as I knew, she was unaware of my knowledge of this, and I planned to keep it that way. Their affair had not ended well, and I knew my hiring her would irritate him, which in its own sick way made me happy.
Before I could slip away, Felicity sauntered up the path from the beach with a straw bag slung over her shoulder. She spotted me haphazardly hidden among the palms and gave me a quizzical look but thankfully didn’t say anything. I pressed my finger to my lips, then pointed in the direction of Madison. She caught sight of Madison and took a step back, but it was too late: Madison had already seen her.
“Oh my God,” Madison exclaimed, rushing over to Felicity. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m sorry,” Felicity returned with a friendly smile. “I don’t think we’ve met. Were you on the plane from LA?”
“No, no, I flew in from New York. I’m Madison. From the Actor’s Toolbox?” Madison prompted. “We were in Lawrence’s class together, like, two years ago. You’re Nikki Nimes.”
Felicity shook her head. “No. I’m Felicity Fox.”
Madison peered at her suspiciously. “You’re messing with me, right? You came over to my condo to rehearse. We did a scene together, from”—she snapped her fingers, trying to recall—“Nine to Five! With Belle—Isabelle Carter. Tall, southern brunette? But it was right around the time I booked Dallas Divas, so I had to drop out before we could perform it.”
“I’m sorry,” Felicity repeated. “I’m not an actress, and I only moved to LA a few months ago. I’m Stella Rivers’s assistant.”
“Huh.” Madison tilted her head. “That’s so weird. You look just like her. I mean, she had long blond hair, but like, I think I had blond hair then too, so…You have a sister or a cousin or something?”
“No. I’ve been told I have a familiar face,” Felicity said. “People are always thinking I’m someone else. Sorry I’m not your friend.”
“Oh, we weren’t, like, friends. She was kinda weird, actually. She never hung out with any of us after class, like she thought she was better or something. And you know, I think she was meaner-looking than you. Maybe it’s the nose. Yeah, you have a better nose for sure. Still. Pretty crazy. I’ll have to find her on social to show you. Hey, speaking of, can you take a picture of me? I was trying to get one for my Insta, but the camera kept slipping.”
Odd. Madison had seemed so sure she was someone else, it was unsettling. I hadn’t processed Felicity’s paperwork, but I felt like I would have at least been alerted if the name she was using didn’t match her passport. I’d have to ask Francisco to check. I had pegged her for an actress immediately when I laid eyes on her. Perhaps she’d done an acting class under a different name and was now denying it? But why? Or maybe, more likely, it was simply a case of mistaken identity.
I took their distraction with the phone as an opportunity to slink off toward the beach, away from the crowd. I made my way across the downy sand to the shore, past the outcropping of rocks where I’d first spotted Felicity tanning, toward the end of the island, where a dock jutted into the sea. This was my first trip to the Caribbean, and I couldn’t get over how bright the water was. I was used to the sapphire blue of the Pacific, but this was an aquamarine so brilliant it seemed lit from within, dappled with red patches of seaweed that looked purple beneath the waves and sprawling beds of coral that turned the sea above a light green.
And the sand! I’d never felt sand so soft, tinted the lightest pink with finely crumbled conch shells. Sure, I might not be a beach person, but I could admit the place had its perks.
Safely out of sight of my compatriots, I dropped my bag, stripped down to my swimsuit, and sprinted into the ocean with abandon. The water was what some might describe as too warm, but I’ve never been a fan of cold water, and it was enough cooler than the air to be refreshing. Little fish flitted
