Page 11 of Bad Reputation

“Do you think she has concerns about the scripts forWaverleyas written?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted.

“Super fair.” A pause. “Do you have concerns about the scripts as written?”

“Not really.”

“No—or not really?”

Cole scratched his cheek before doing something that made him feel as if he were stripping down to his boxers: telling Maggie the truth. “I don’t think so, but no one has ever asked me that. At least not anyone who cares about the answer.”

Once again, he forced himself to meet her eyes, and he and Maggie shared a long look.

Finally, with almost painful gentleness, Maggie said, “I’m so sorry that happened to you.”

Cole cleared his throat. He readjusted his jacket. He crossed and uncrossed his arms. Every part of him was suddenly screwed on too tight. “It’s fine.”

“It really isn’t.” She let that sit between them for a minute. “But I’m here for you and for Tasha, and also for Owen, Rhiannon, and Leanne. Thisisa new role for me—Tasha’s right to be skeptical—but I care a lot about getting this right. I want the production to be safe for you.”

Safe.

The word could’ve been from a language Cole didn’t speak. His career hadn’t been anything like safe, both because of the choices he’d made and also the choices no one had thought to give him.

For Maggie to offer that to him now? Some soft space opened in his chest that he hadn’t known had been there.

“I—thank you.” His voice was quiet, as if it came from far away.

“My pleasure.”

When the door opened and Zoya stuck her head in, Cole jumped. He’d forgotten other people were supposed to be in this meeting.

“Tasha’s done for the day. She took your town car, Cole. Since we have time, we should pack it in and try again tomorrow. I can run you back to the Rosewood, if you want.”

“Um, yeah. That’d be great.”

“I appreciate your openness.” Maggie stood up and started to gather her stuff. “I’m just this random person, and you don’t know me, but I hope I’ll be able to make a difference.”

Cole was tempted to say something ridiculous, such asYou already have. But he kept that inside. It would be too much, and the goal—his goal—was to be professional.

What he needed to do here, what Drew would tell him to do, was to get Tasha on board so that Maggie could do her job and he and Tasha could do theirs.

“Look, Tasha and I have a reservation tonight at Troncos. It’s a Brazilian place where we know the chef. It’s a few blocks from the Rosewood. Are you staying there too?” He had no idea if they put the crew up at the same hotel as the cast—though he was going to feel like an ass if the production team had dumped her in a Motel 6 in the burbs.

“Yes.”

“Great. Why don’t you come with us? Maybe we can ... get on friendly terms and thaw Tasha out. Let’s meet in the lobby at eight.”

Maggie had slid her scripts into a canvas bag. She was staring fixedly into it, as if she didn’t want to look at him.

That bothered Cole more than it should have.

“She’s not going to mind if I crash your dinner?”

“No.” Actually, yes. But it didn’t matter. Maggie was great. Once Tasha talked to her more, she’d realize it, and whatever was going on today would resolve. “And once she gets to know you, it’ll work out. Trust me.”

Cole hadn’t realized how invested he was in Maggie’s answer, or that he’d been holding his breath waiting for it, until she said, “Okay.”

The entire ride back to the hotel, he told himself he only cared because it was what a professional would feel.

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