Page 9 of Isabelle and the Beast

“I lovedSecond Chance Invasion,” I say.

He snorts a laugh. “Sure you did.”

“Why do you doubt it?”

He finally looks over at me. “You sawSecond Chance Invasion.”

I nod. “Yes.”

He sets down his fork and leans an elbow on the table. “What was my character’s name?”

“Reginald. I thought it was a terrible choice, but you pulled it off.”

His brows rise slightly in surprise, chewing thoughtfully.Yes.One point in my favor.

We finish our salads in silence while I rack my brain, trying to come up with topics of conversation that won’t get me yelled at or ignored. Two young men—are they twins?—come out aminute later to take our salad plates and bring out the main course: chicken and pasta with a sundried tomato cream sauce.

“Thank you,” I say to the man who leaves my plate. He smiles at me. Adam, on the other hand, completely ignores the man who served his dish.

“So, how did you get your first acting job?” I ask. “I know you didn’t grow up acting. Did you study it in college? Or?—”

“That’s none of your concern.” He doesn’t even spare a glance in my direction.

“Oh.” I pause. “I just thought it was cool you started acting later, you know, like me. I mean, I’ve alwayswantedto act, especially since my dad works in the industry, but I never got started until I was an adult.”

He still says nothing, and I feel the urge to keep talking. At least, that’s the only excuse I have for my word vomit. “My dad actually never wanted me to be part of it. My sisters were always so busy with their modeling jobs, beginning their careers as babies while my mom was alive. Instead of going that route with me, Dad tried to protect me as much as possible throughout my childhood. I guess I have to appreciate thatabout him. But I couldn’t ignore the urge to act that was rolling under my skin, and once I finished college, I decided to go for it.”

Adam sets down his fork and looks right at me. “Do you always talk this much?”

“I…” The truth is, sometimes. But I don’t want to say that. He’s making me so nervous, and I want to show him how friendly I am, that I’m trying desperately to fill the silence with proof that I’m a normal human being.

Unlike him.

So I try to be quiet for a few minutes. He’s being exceptionally rude, but I want this role. And if he’d prefer I don’t sit and chit-chat, I can try that for a little while.

“What else have you done?” he asks, breaking the silence.

I swallow the food in my mouth. “I’m sorry?”

“Acting. What other roles have you performed?”

I press my lips together. He’s basically asking for my IMDb information, and I know my list doesn’t sound great because I’ve hardly gotten any roles worth noting. Being an extra in an episode ofThis is Usis hardly worth mentioning. “I’ve been in a few shows and commercials.”

“But no actual roles.”

“Not yet, but?—”

“You never got an actual role because you weren’t good enough.”

My mouth drops open at his bluntness. I’m at a loss for words. Did he really just say that to me?

And even worse, he continues speaking. “In fact, you probably never would have gotten this role if it weren’t for your father pulling strings. Or did your sisters vouch for you this time? Either way, it’s just a role for a made-for-tv rom-com on a ridiculous network, so it’s not like it would have taken much effort in the first place.”

My face flames with embarrassment and tears sting my eyes. How dare he speak to me like this! This is the final straw.

I slam my fork down on the table and stand, my chair loudly scratching the wood floor. Adam turns to face me, his eyes wide in surprise.

“You should be ashamed of yourself,” I say sternly. “How dare you say those things! Who do you think you are that you can speak to people like that?”

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