Page 77 of Let’s Make a Scene

Dad rolls his eyes. “What an entitled brat we’ve raised, Caro. Of course you’re interested! Guy is an eminent director, exactly the sort of person you should be working with.”

“And darling, you know this is how it’s done,” Mum puts in. “You’ll get more from an informal meeting like this than you will attending an audition with dozens of others. Let him see your natural charm, make sure your face is at the front of his mind during the next conversation he has about casting.”

“Nepotism is alive and well,” I mutter, and I’m even more grateful Cynthie’s not here. She’d fucking love this: my mum and dad about to wine and dine me into a role.

I clear my throat. “Anyway, I was thinking I might take a break. Really think about what I want to do next. Find something that makes me feel excited.”

“For fuck’s sake, Jack,” my dad roars, not caring that his sonorous voice basically echoes off the walls. “Now is not the time to be taking a bloody holiday! When I was your age, I was doing nine performances a week at the Old Vic!”

“I thought we’d instilled a better work ethic in you than this.” Mum sounds disappointed.

“You have,” I protest.

“Then act like it,” Dad advises. “And when that man comes back to this table, you make sure you charm him.”

So that’s what I do.

And I try to ignore the fact that I’m miserable about it.

NOW THIRTEEN YEARS LATER

Chapter 25 CYNTHIE

It’s been a couple of weeks since he stayed over at my place, and tonight is the night Jack and I are making our official debut as a couple at a black-tie charity gala in Beverly Hills.

I’m trying not to feel nervous about it, but as we sit in my dressing room at home, Patty and Liam demand all the gossip they’ve missed while being out of town on a shoot. Let’s just say reliving all the details has me jittery.

“And then,” I say as Liam dusts powder over my nose, “he opens the door, and he’s just standing there in his pajamas, and his hair is all messy, you know…”

“Mmmm,” Liam makes an appreciative sound of agreement.

“And he was wearing…” I trail off, helpless.

“What?” Patty’s eyes widen in the mirror as she stands looking over my shoulder.

“He was wearing reading glasses,” I finish with a whisper.

“Nooooooooo!” they both screech in unison.

“Yup.” I sigh. “Those round tortoiseshell ones. Like a hot librarian.”

“Oh my god,” Liam murmurs. “Your kryptonite.”

I nod glumly, because he’s right. Hot librarians are my thing. (Formative crushes on Giles in Buffy and Rachel Weisz in The Mummy made this inevitable.) Jack’s character on Blood/Lust is a buff, clever, waistcoat-wearing librarian/demon hunter, and my friends have teased me mercilessly for years over the fact that my nemesis is on TV playing my teenage fantasy. Now I just happen to be trapped in a fake relationship with him while he insists on being sweet and charming all the time.

It’s a nightmare.

Over the last couple of weeks, Jack and I have hung out a handful of times. One of those times we didn’t have anything planned, but he dropped me a text.

JACK:

Hey, friend. Want to go see a movie?

So we went to a midday screening of a big action film. We were the only people in the theater. No one saw us or took pictures of us, and we bickered over superior cinema snacks and made fun of the clunky dialogue, spending the afternoon talking to each other like action heroes. There were lots of references to choppers.

It was light and fun, and we weren’t performing for an audience, so I’m not exactly sure why it happened, or what it meant.

Maybe Jack and I really are becoming friends. And maybe hell is freezing over.