Page 74 of Faking the Shot

That sounded like trouble, Zac thought. Then he laughed.

“What?”

“Logan accused me of not being a real man because I didn’t go to strip joints.” He glanced at Chris. “And yet here your wife is doing exactly that.”

Chris nodded. “She’s a good one.”

Amen. And so was Ainsley.

CHAPTER15

“It’s going so well!” Rosie said.

Ainsley studied the gray harbor from her apartment window. Rosie wouldn’t be saying that if she knew where Ainsley planned to go tomorrow.

A break in the schedule thanks to Jason’s illness meant she’d been able to say yes to Diana after all. Maybe this was the opportunity she’d been waiting for.

“Okay, so now you’ve attended two of his games, and a few galas, I think it’s safe to say that everybody is buying the concept of you two.”

They were a concept? Like a brand? Maybe they had a brand name: Zainsley. Like the new Traylor. Or Bennifer. Or Brangelina. Nobody ever knew how long any of those would last.

She knew how long Zainsley would last: February 14. But probably not much more. Because it was getting increasingly more difficult to untangle her emotions when she thought about Zac. And she thought about him often. Like when Jason spoke on their shoots, and she compared his voice to Zac’s deeper one. Like when the role called for her to hug him, and she remembered Zac’s scent and the breadth of his arms. Fortunately the Christmas mysteries series only had a splash of romance, and she didn’t have to kiss until a scene right at the end, so not nearly as much as in some of her previous movies. Just as well, because the more time she spent with Zac, the more she started to wonder what his kiss would be like.

Zac had said something about a New Year’s Eve party, and she figured between that and Valentine’s Day, there possibly was a chance that she might find out. That kiss on the cheek had felt like it could easily slide to more.

“So what do you think?”

She refocused. “Um, sorry what was the question?”

“You. What’s next? Have you made Christmas plans?”

She didn’t know why Rosie thought she needed to know this. Sometimes the woman seemed to interfere a lot more than what Ainsley heard of other agents or publicists doing. “We’re doing something together,” she said vaguely. That, and she was praying like mad that the house would close in time. With Aunty Win focused on death cleaning, this might actually be one of their last Christmases together, so she wanted this surprise to be the best.

“Okay. Well, get more pics. I liked the one from the Christmas party that you posted to make yourself Insta official, but it would be good to see some more. Okay?”

“Sure.”

But she wouldn’t be posting any from the next place that she was going to visit.

“Now,Ainsley, are you sure about this?” Diana asked. “It’s not too late to back out.”

“I’m fine.” She glanced at the other ladies. Four of them, all older than she and Diana by several decades. Smiled to reassure. “Truly.”

Glenda, the pastor’s wife originally behind this ministry initiative, nodded. “You need to prepare yourself to encounter some confronting things. Just keep your eyes up, and your heart open. And be ready for whatever God might be wanting you to say.”

Ainsley nodded. When she had prayed about God giving her opportunities to be real, she certainly hadn’t been expecting this. But what was more real than following in the footsteps of what she thought Jesus might want to do if He walked this earth today?

Who would Jesus have hung out with? The rich? The smart? The successful? Well, yes, but just like in Bible times, He would have searched the highways and byways to seek those whom the world didn’t think amounted to much. So who were the most marginalized? The poor? The drugged-out? Those like Mack in the LGBTI community? What about the refugees, the homeless, those caught up in sexual slavery?

For so long she’d been caught up in her shows and movies, a very fictional version of life. But since she’d started looking, after her conversation with her aunt, she’d realized just how big and dark this world could be. Maybe she’d been a little quick to dismiss the lightness of her shows. They might suggest a bubblegum-pink fantasy, but they also offered stories of light and hope in a sometimes very black world.

Glenda’s minivan pulled into a nondescript parking lot, then the women prayed for God to use their time today. “Lord, help us love these ladies as You do. Help them to know that they are precious in Your sight. Use us for Your purposes, Amen.”

“Amen,” Ainsley whispered.

“Now remember,” Glenda turned to them. “We are here to love, not to judge. These women are made in the image of God, and He loves them. So we’re simply being His hands and His feet and showing that love.”

Ainsley nodded, catching Diana’s smile of encouragement.

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