Page 28 of Bad Reputation

“Zoya admires pluck,” Esme said. “It’s why she keeps me around.”

“I ... really appreciate you saying so. After the stuff with Tasha, I needed that vote of confidence.”

Maggie had to do this job well. She just had to. Zoya might want the vindication, but Maggie needed it. Maybe Zoya could call Maggie’s parents and mention that she was good at this and also that it was a legitimate and important job.

“You got this. I know it. And as we’ve established, I’m never wrong.”

Maggie let the compliment light up the rest of her afternoon.

Chapter 7

INT. GYMNASIUM

“Again,” Cole demanded.

Ryan let loose another volley of flashing steel.

The stunt coordinator was about an inch shorter and substantially less bulky than Cole. He was all lean muscle, and Cole was more decorative brawn. But only one of them had done their homework—and for once, it wasn’t Ryan.

Cole had known Ryan for more than a decade, from when he’d gotten his start doing stunts and stand-in work for Cole. From a distance, they looked alike. Up close? Not so much. And with swords in their hands? Well, Cole suspected for once, he might be the better man.

The stunt coordinator struck, and Cole parried. Ryan lunged, and Cole parried again. When Ryan advanced a third time, it was with all the finesse of a child clutching a fake lightsaber. Cole just stepped out of the way. A feint from Cole, and Ryan fell for it—and almost tumbled to the ground. From there, it was easy to launch a riposte that had Ryan stumbling backward.

Through it all, Cole kept his knees bent, his joints loose. Leonard Pierce and Amin Cordova were teaching and choreographing the sword fighting and historical combat onWaverley, and they had emphasized that the real key was Cole’s stance and grip. There wasn’t going to bethat much swordplay on the show, and the choreography wasn’t that complex. Cole didn’t have to be Errol Flynn—thank God. But he had to get the basics right, because that was how professionals spotted actors who were merely hacking away at each other.

Cole’s hack days were behind him.

“Ryan,” Leonard warned as Cole pressed his attack. “Cole looks great, but your stance sucks. You’re jerking around like Frankenstein.”

“Like a zombie,” Amin corrected. “A slow one. Keep the sword closer—it’s gotta be an extension of your arm.”

Ryan made an inarticulategahhhthat conveyed a full rainbow of profanity.

Cole continued to advance until Ryan stumbled backward in retreat and dropped the tip of his sword to the ground.

“Goddamn it, stop.” Ryan bent over, his hands on his hips, breathing hard.

“You yield?”

Ryan flipped Cole off.

“I think that makes five for me,” Cole said, mildly.

“I’m not even supposed to be doing this.”

The actor playing the British exciseman, and Cole’s soon-to-be on-screen sparring partner, had a cold, and Ryan was just filling in. So Ryan had a point, but Cole was still going to rub his superiority in.

“Nice work,” Leonard said with evident pride.

Cole had certainly put in the effort, the time.

“Pay attention to your footwork, though,” Amin warned. “You need better turnout.”

“Like a ballerina?”

“Exactly.”

Ryan had caught his breath. He straightened and glared at Leonard. “Why aren’t you or Amin doing this with him since Reynold is out?”

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