Page 59 of A Lucky Shot

“Hey girl! You free Friday night?”

Cass slumped against the locker. “What do you need, Suz?”

“We just got tickets to that play you were talking about last week and wanted to know if you could watch the girls?”

Musical theatre had been their thing: Suzie, Davie, and Cassie shrieking at their mom to put on her old records to sing along for hours when they were kids.

Why hadn’t Suzie invited her instead? Her brother-in-law couldn’t care less about musical theatre. His snores would drown out the orchestra by the intermission.

Not that she wouldn’t be excited to play with her favourite rugrats, but still … She had planned on going for drinks with some of her old theatre friends. Suzie didn’t have the most reliable babysitter, and Cass could always catch her crew next time.

“Of course,” Cass said, resigned.

“Oh, you’re the best!” Suzie squealed. “They’ll be so excited!”

Cass dialled up the brightest smile she could so her sister would hear it in her voice. “Can’t wait.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

JOSH

The grips had set up the green screen to block the golden, mid-fall afternoon sun from sneaking through the cracks in the windows. Libby had shouted “Striking!” almost half an hour ago, and the set had lit up like a Christmas tree, if Christmas trees were up at the beginning of November in gutted athletic training facilities that smelled of fresh sawdust, old gym socks, and determination. The sound team had padded the room until it sounded like everyone spoke as if underwater, and a sea of voices murmured through the space.

Everyone was waiting for her. Again.

“Where’s Brynne?” Stephen barked at the make-up assistant.

In her trailer, visualizing, if Josh had to guess. She had her process. If they rushed her out, they’d lose more time with shitty takes than if they left her alone to prepare.

That didn’t mean they couldn’t use this time.

He twisted his lips in thought, his eyes on Cass as she directed her wardrobe assistant. She was at least half a foot shorter than Brynne, but they had the same alabaster skin, and Brynne’s hair was only a few shades lighter than Cass’s deep chestnut. The lighting would look the same on either of them, and he could stick Cass on an apple box to match her height. Cass would never squeeze into the tailored space suit she’d designed for Brynne’s lithe form, but costume was irrelevant in this scene. He wanted to push the shot in tight, anyway.

He motioned to the closest PA. “Bex, get Cass to stand in front of the half console. And ask Libby to come here.”

It was damn near perfect. Up on the apple box, Cass was the right height for Libby to catch the shadows that would have obscured Brynne in the same position, and she stood awkwardly on the replica spaceship’s bridge while the crew adjusted the light and shadow around her.

Libby crossed her arms over her coveralls. “We need to lower the overheads.”

“And add a blue gel,” Josh finished. “It’s too real, too comfortable right now.”

The grips scurried to put the adjustments in place. Josh felt the familiar rush in his gut, and the set disappeared.

Blue tint washed her every curve with an otherworldly luminescence that made her look lit from within. Her hazel eyes looked almost black in the dim light, wide and wondering, with sparks reflected in her irises like constellations. Like she was made from the stars themselves.

“This is what I need,” Josh said to Libby, voice low. “She’s gorgeous.”

Libby slowly turned to look at him. “Is she?”

Human, but only just, almost beyond reach. Ephemeral, barely on this plane. Cass was more than gorgeous. She glowed. She was ethereal.

Josh swallowed and nodded once. “She’s perfect.”

“Yes, I agree. My best friend is perfect.”

He tore his eyes away from the monitor to find Libby studying him.

Fuck.

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