Page 81 of The Reunion

Sure enough, when I check my phone in the privacy of my trailer, I’ve missed two calls from Mars. I call her back immediately.

“Liv,” she says, breathless in the way that tells me she maybe sprinted across a room and/or spilled a cup of coffee to get to my call in time. “It has been aday. Do you have a minute? And by a minute, I really mean ten.”

“I’m here.” I have a break—short, but I should be safe.

“So… we have a situation.” Mars has never been anything but direct, and now is no exception. “Shine Jacobs caught Sasha-Kate with Bob Renfro in his office today. I’ll spare you the explicit details—I trust you can do your best to imagine the worst.”

Wow. Whatever I was expecting, it wasnotthis.

“Isn’t he, like, twice her age?” I manage. Sasha-Kate’s usual type is midtwenties, Gucci-wearing, questionable-hygiene-but-call-it-fashion,usually with some sort of accent—like Nikola, the guy she brought to the Fanline dinner. The furthest thing from Bob Renfro, in other words.

“Almost, but that’s not the problem here,” she says. “Bob’s the one who’s been leading the charge for the restructured reboot, with a more prominent role for Sasha-Kate.”

“Well,thatmakes more sense now,” I say.

I’m not sure what leaves a more bitter taste: that she tried to pull this at all—sleeping with an exec to advance her career—or that it almost worked.

“It does. But now Shine’s in a tough spot, because the reboot’s already been announced, and due to Fanline’s zero-tolerance policy on relationships involving execs and the cast, Sasha-Kate’s no longer eligible to have a prominent role on the show—that zero-tolerance clause was in her contract just like it was in yours.”

Wow. “So… now what?” I’m not even sure what I’m hoping to hear.

She sucks in a sharp breath.

“Well,” she says, “there are three options. One is to go back with you front and center, and I’ve been pushing for that, but they’re on a budget thanks to the merger, and it feels like creative territory they’ve already covered. Two is to put the entire focus on Millie, which—I don’t think I need to explain why they’re not immediately leaping in that direction. Three is to find a new lead, a brand-newGirlto follow who we haven’t met yet, and give the three of you substantially less-prominent roles, since they’ve already promised fans they’ll see familiar faces in the reboot. So.” She takes a breath, finally giving my mind a chance to stop spinning. “I’ve been trying to give you time to work through all the options we have on the table, but we’re going to have to make some hard and fast decisions. Today, if possible. If you want to be part of theGirlreboot going forward, in any capacity, I need to know so I can fight for the best deal and control over the schedule. I already know you’re set on working with Vienna, so all that’s left to consider after that is the Emily Quinn project.”

“I… wow. Okay.” I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror,the face that’s become synonymous withGirl on the Vergefor two decades now. Who will I be if I walk away?

“I know,” she says. “Think it over. My best advice is to go with your gut. If you want me to keep pushing for the lead role, say the word and I’ll do it. We might have to make some compromises, but you know I would never let you take abaddeal.”

I feel a deep sense of gratitude for Mars, fiercely in my corner since day one. And then I remember Ransom, who’s never had a team like mine, and I feel heavy all over again.

If we walk, it affects him, too.

Before I give my final answer, I should probably go talk to him. See where he stands.

“Thanks, Mars,” I say. “I’ll get back to you by tonight.”

“The sooner you can let me know, the better.” I’ve known her long enough to translate it intoI really need to know by six, which is less than two hours away. “Talk soon, babe.”

“Yeah,” I say. “Talk soon.”

I’ve got one last scene to shoot before we wrap, and there’s no way I can put it off—today’s our very last day on set, and it’s already a day longer than we were meant to be here. On top of that, I have a press appearance onThe Late Show with Ben Bristolimmediately after we finish, which is all the way on the far side of the lot.

But I have to talk to Ransom.

Bryan’s going to kill me.I need twenty minutes, I text, before I can talk myself out of it.

Three dots pop up, and I wait.

Twenty minutes, and not a minute more, he finally sends back.

I knock on Ransom’s trailer door, hoping hard he hasn’t already headed home.

I only have to wonder for a moment.

He opens the door, looking at me like he’s not sure I’m actuallythere—like I’m every bit the ghost I’ve become since our kissing scene three endless days ago.

I can’t stop staring at the towel wrapped around his lower half, and the droplets making their way down his chest.

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