Page 149 of Movers and Shakers

“I like them. If I’m only doing this for a few weeks, I might as well enjoy it as much as I can.”

I smiled and told him to have fun. He got to live his dream for a bit. I would let him do it however he wanted to.

Barry

I got home from the dive bar around nine. It had been fun, but it wasn’tmybar. The company was excellent, though. I didn’t mention my usual profession solely because I didn’t want them looking me up, but I was very tempted to.

Lila walked into her mansion a half hour later and fell right onto the couch, wig still on. “I’m fucking exhausted.”

“How did the auditions go?”

She heaved out a sigh. “Some of them were good, but none of them knew the material. This is going to be an uphill battle. I’m so tired I can’t even take the wig off at this point.”

“Has this happened before?”

“Usually after a show. Or a bunch of interviews. I’ll be fine. I’ve slept in it before.”

“Fine is not good enough,” I said.

“Barry, I literally can’t get up right now.”

“That’s fine. I’ll take it off for you.

Her couch was so big that I could sit next to her lying down. When I did, she sat up only long enough to move her head to my lap.

“Can’t get up, huh?”

“Shut up. I’m only moving so I can get cuddles and to see if you’ll actually take the wig off for me.”

“I’m a man of my word.”

“It’s a whole process.”

“I’m guessing wig and cap. Did you use glue?”

“How the hell do you know how wigs work? Are you about to tell me you wear a wig too?”

I laughed. “No, but I looked it up once I learned the truth. It seemed like it would come in handy.”

Taking my time, I removed the layers of Lila, careful not to tug her beautiful copper hair. Once the strands were free, I ran my hands through it, rubbing her scalp.

“Thank you,” she muttered. “I needed that. Sometimes it restricts my ability to think.”

“Happy to help,” I said lowly. Knowing I was the only one who knew her like this, who could take off her mask and return her to who she was, made my heart skip a beat. “We should get your makeup off too.”

“Why?”

“So I can see your freckles again.”

She laughed softly. “Fine. I’ll get up to do it, but only because the relief of getting the damn wig off added ten years to my life.”

She got up to head to the master bathroom. I followed, waiting patiently as she scrubbed her face with cleanser.

“I really need to make a routine of getting un-Lila-ed every day.” She wet her face and scrubbed all the soap off. “Shit, I didn’t grab a towel.”

There was one on the farthest wall, which would feel like a mile away to someone with a soaking wet face.

“I have one,” I said, walking to her. “I’ll do it.”

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