I nodded, a part of me wishing I’d stayed sulking in the kitchen. “Not great with heights.”
The sky reflected bronze in his concerned eyes, and I…couldn’t look away. “Do you want to go back down?”
I shook my head, horrified to register that what I wanted, more than anything, was his arms around me again. But he had a girlfriend. I wouldn’t make that mistake a second time. “I like it up here.” I ripped my gaze from his and studied my hands. The manicure I’d gotten a week ago was ragged and chipped. “Sorry. I swear I’m not usually this incapable. First you have to save me from drowning, and now I can’t handle a ten-foot height.”
“No need to apologize.”
God, he seemed so genuine. But he’s not.
He pointed out to sea, blissfully unaware of the war going on inside me. “Dolphins.”
Not fifty feet from our boat, a pod of dolphins played, their sleek bodies rising in crescents from the water. I heard a squeal of excitement from the deck as the others spotted them. We watched as four adults and two babies dove and jumped, kicking up glittering flecks of peach-tinted water.
“Beautiful,” I murmured at their frolicking, feeling the tension drain from my shoulders. I was being silly about Rick. He was just friendly. And it might be nice to have a friend. A very attractive friend, yes, but as long as we were just friends, no harm done. I’d read too much into his interest in me, the result of too many romance novels and not enough actual romance. But this was neither the time nor the place. I took a breath and watched Felicity and Jackson laughing, their arms grazing each other, pointing at the dolphins. I lowered my voice. “What do you think of Felicity?”
“Which one is she?”
I indicated.
“Haven’t talked to her.” He shrugged. “She’s hot, and Jackson’s obviously into her. She’s one of the actresses?”
I laughed. “Funny you ask. She claims not to be, but she’s been working as Stella’s stand-in all week, and…”
“You don’t believe her. You think she’s after something?”
“Too talented, too pretty, too nice,” I confirmed. “I don’t trust her.”
Rick laughed so hard that Felicity and Jackson turned and looked up at us. I waved. “Nice view up there?” Jackson asked.
“Gorgeous,” I confirmed.
“Too bad we don’t have any scenes set on a boat,” Felicity chimed in.
Jackson looked at her as though that were the most wonderful idea he’d ever heard. Oh Lord, scenes on a boat were the last thing I needed. I caught his eye and rubbed my fingers together to signify money.
Felicity said something to him that I couldn’t hear, and he laughed, turning away from us. Despite my suspicions about her, I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what it was she might want from Stella, who could hardly get herself a job these days, bless her heart.
“Not everybody has ulterior motives,” Rick whispered, as though he’d been reading my thoughts.
Damn it, I liked his breath on my ear. It made me think of his breath on other parts of my body. I batted the thought away. If I couldn’t control my attraction, then I wouldn’t be able to hang out with him anymore, and that really would be unfortunate. I liked his company.
I leaned forward to see Stella still dozing on the cushioned nose of the boat below us. “She’ll sleep it off by the time we get back,” Rick said.
I sighed. “She’s supposed to be sober. Her insurance requires it.”
“Oh,” he said.
I leaned my head against the railing and groaned. “I should have been babysitting instead of hiding.”
“Give yourself a break. The insurance company can’t exactly turn up without warning out here.”
“I’m more worried that Madison will post something compromising. She films nonstop.”
“Nothing illegal about taking a nap on a boat,” he assured me. “I do it all the time.”
“Did you notice if Felicity was the one giving her alcohol?”
He shrugged. “I wasn’t paying that much attention. I did see her hand her a pill earlier though.”
I felt a twinge of guilt for talking about Stella behind her back. She was fragile and not incredibly easy to work with, but she wasn’t as demanding as I’d initially thought, and shockingly, was doing exceptional work when she could recall her lines. After reading about her antics in the past, I was pleasantly surprised by her professionalism, especially when playing opposite Cole, who seemed to run hot and cold toward her. She wasn’t great at taking (or perhaps, remembering) direction, but she didn’t need a lot—Jackson had clearly written the role with her in mind. She was Marguerite, an insecure star grappling with aging while watching her husband transfer his affection to a younger version of herself, and often the bits she improvised were better than the written dialogue. I could also tell that Stella liked Madison even less than I did, and I looked forward to watching her seek revenge on her younger nemesis in the later scenes.
“She may not be sober, but she’s perfect in her role, and luckily the script supervisor’s smitten with her, so she’s always close by to feed her lines.”
“You notice everything, don’t you?” he asked.
“I’m sorry. I must be boring you to tears with my work drama.”
“Not at all,” he said. He pointed surreptitiously at Cole. “How’s that one been?”
“Exactly how you’d think, I imagine,” I returned. “Camera loves him and he was born to play his role as a temperamental playboy genius, but I’m still not convinced he’s read the script, and he won’t listen to a thing Jackson says.”
To his credit, Jackson was apparently prepared for this reality—it was his idea to shoot in chronological order so his father would know what the hell was going on, and he instructed our cinematographer to roll early and cut late on every take, which would give the editors more to work with. Still, Cole’s performance
