Page 141 of Let’s Make a Scene

“Okay, something strange is going on,” I say. “Why is everyone behaving like they’re on drugs?” I look more closely at Jack, “And why is your eye twitching?”

His smile looks a bit more pained now. “I have no idea. Maybe you were right and the caffeine is finally catching up with me.”

“If you say so,” I reply, dubious. I think about it for a moment. “Are you going to prank me?”

“What?” His surprise looks genuine, but I remain suspicious.

“There’s a lot of big prank energy in the air,” I say, waving my index finger in a circle. “And I’ll remind you, that’s not something you want to start with me.”

He laughs, looking delighted. “I solemnly swear no one is pranking you.”

“Fine,” I grumble, sipping my coffee. “Whatever is going on, I’ll get it out of Hannah later.”

“So, finish telling me about Brooke,” he says, changing the subject and slipping into the seat across from me. “Do you think you’ll talk to her on camera?”

“I don’t know.” I frown. “I need to know a bit more and speak to a few more people first, but it seems like she could be a good person to trust with the story. Don’t you think?”

He nods. “Yeah, actually, I do. I think she’s smart and her work is strong. She’s using the documentary here to boost her profile and make contacts. It also might be better to explore Shawn’s behavior in the context of a wider problem.”

“That’s what I think too,” I agree. “So it doesn’t come off as some sort of personal vendetta. And either way, her project sounds interesting. She’s already managed to get interviews with some high-profile people. I was thinking maybe I could come on board in a production role…”

“Wow.” He leans back in his seat. “That’s a big step.”

“I know, but I’ve been talking about setting up a production company for years. It would be the perfect thing for Hannah to run—she’s the most capable person on the planet, and she knows everyone. The assistant network is no joke.”

“Oh god, you’re right. She’d be brilliant at that,” Jack exhales.

I tap my fingers against the side of my coffee cup. “Plus, she shouldn’t be my assistant forever, no matter how much I love having her around. She’s got way too much talent.”

“It would be hard on both of you, though. Not to be together so much,” Jack says gently.

“Yeah, it would,” I agree with a pang. “But I don’t ever want our relationship to hold her back. She’s outgrown the job, and I know her—she needs a challenge.” I take a sip of my drink. “And it feels like…” I hesitate.

“What?” Jack prompts after a moment.

I look at him and think again how strange this is. It’s not just that I can tell him what I think or how I feel; it’s so obvious that he wants to know. It’s in every line of him. I’m like his favorite book, the one he can’t put down.

“I don’t know, it feels like things are changing. Like the timing is right somehow.”

Jack nods wisely. “You’re both thirty-three,” he says. “That’s a year of transformation.”

I laugh. “You sound like Liam.”

“Don’t knock it,” he says with a shrug. “It’s a whole thing apparently.”

“What did you do when you were thirty-three?” I ask, settling my chin in my hand. He’s not the only one who’s fascinated. I want to roll around in his thoughts; I want to own every secret he has and hoard them with my own.

He rubs his hand across his jaw, thinking. “I decided I was going to stop caring what my parents thought about my career.”

“Just like that?”

“Pretty much. It had been coming on for a long time, but I was working on Blood/Lust.” He sits back in his chair. “I hadn’t had the best offers coming in and I took that part against their advice. My own hopes for it hadn’t exactly been high, but, fuck, I loved it pretty much straightaway. The cast and crew are fantastic, and we got really tight; the writing is great; the opportunity to work on a single character for so long and really get to know him, the fandom.” He exhales a chuckle. “Being part of that is wild.”

I grin at him, at the enthusiasm coming off him.

“I’d finished the first season and I was having a ball. I realized I wasn’t going to be able to stop my mum and dad from making their comments, but I didn’t have to listen to them. I’d made something without them, and I liked it. They didn’t approve, and it didn’t matter. It was liberating.”

“I bet,” I murmur. “You know, it’s impressive all the work you’ve done since we met.”