Page 31 of Love: Take Two

"You two have no idea how close the studio is to pulling the plug completely," Rory whispers without looking at us.

Seeing her so utterly defeated, my heart sinks. I came here to help and now I'm letting my worry about Yong-rae and my history with Awa confuse things.

"I'm giving you one last chance to fix this," Rory mutters. "Talk to your clients. Let them know what they stand to lose."

"Yong-rae knows," I interject, but Rory's harsh look stops me from saying more.

"They better play nice, or they're done," she warns. She takes off her headset and starts after Edward, then stops just afew feet away. "Oh, and from now on, you're both restricted to the video village."

"What?" Awa gasps.

"You can't be serious," I say.

Rory fixes her icy gaze on me.

"I'm deadly serious. Both of you are only making things worse. Talk to your clients, then grab your belongings and set up in the video village." She shrugs. "It's either that, or you're no longer welcome on set."

With that, she turns and leaves Awa and me standing with matching expressions of shock. How the hell did things get this out of hand this fast?

Chapter seventeen

Awa

Iam going to kill him!Him and his mini-me, who thinks he can walk in off the street or from whatever shopping mall they found him in and tell Tabitha how it's done.

Was she stepping on her scene partner's toes? Maybe, but it's not like he couldn't use the tips. He said it himself—he's never been in a production this size.À jeune chasseur, il faut un vieux chien; he should be thanking her for her expertise!

My twists fall in front of my eyes as I stomp my way to Tabitha's trailer. I angrily push them away.

Noah hasn't changed one bit since college. Just like twenty years ago, he comes barging in, spouts his charismatic words, flashes his winning smile, and upsets a situation that was going perfectly well without him. The firm almost didn't let me work from the set when Tabitha called, and now I'm relegated to the video village?

I've got to calm myself down. Less than a month into shooting, and this film feels like a runaway train. Sure, it's pissing me off that Noah once again has everyone fooled with his smooth operator bullshit, but Rory's right; my job right now is to keep a level head and help Tabitha do the same.

I take a deep breath and open the trailer door.

"Is this why I brought you here, Awa? To let me get chewed out by the producer in a role that could win me an Oscar?"

I close the door behind me and meet Tabitha's outraged green eyes with a look my mother perfected on me whenever I thought I was too mature to respect my parents. She looks immediately contrite.

"Sorry," she mutters. She turns back to fuss with her sandy blonde bangs; they're already perfect.

Everything about her is perfect, which is why she's been on one of the longest winning streaks in the business. Studios love her because she's guaranteed to pack theaters full of men lusting after her model-worthy body. Her female fans love her because she's approachable—coming early to events to sign autographs, staying late on her way home to take pictures, brushing off the tired questions from reporters about her workout and diet routine despite the aforementioned perfect body. And I and the rest of her representatives love her because she's a cash cow, yet she's not as high-maintenance as clients making half what she does. She's there to work, and she's damn good at it. She doesn't let petty on-set drama get to her…most of the time.

"I don't know why I'm letting Yong-rae get under my skin," she pouts, swiveling in her chair to face me. I take a seat on the couch opposite her and open one of the Fiji waters.

"I was just thinking that," I say contemplatively. "You're usually so even-keeled, and yet Yong-rae has you flying off the handle. And I've never seen you correct another actor like you did today."

"I know," she mutters, ducking her head. "It's just…He just…" She rakes her hands through her hair, but, of course, it falls back down just as perfectly as before, not a hair out of place. "He justirksme. You know?"

I raise a quizzical eyebrow.

"Clearly not," I answer honestly. "I'm not sure I even know what 'irk' means."

I've picked up plenty of idioms since moving to the States, but there are still a lot of words and phrases that puzzle me. She sighs and looks at the ceiling for an example.

"It means…he annoys me in a really specific way. Like nails on a chalkboard."

"And?" I challenge, still confused. "Braden Jackson ate sardines before every kiss scene you two had, and you didn't react this way."