Page 19 of The Fake Script

She places a hand on her hip. “Am I under surveillance or something?”

I choke out a soft laugh, but she’s not that far off. I can’t seem to keep my eyes off her. No matter how hard I try.

“All right, let’s see your notes for tomorrow’s scene.”

She shows me her numerous critiques, but I must say, they’re starting to make sense now. Beyond just allowing me to spend time with Emma, this arrangement has been genuinely helpful. It was a good idea to hire her. Having a hardcore fan of the book on the production team should be a requirement for all movie adaptations.

We’ve been at it for about an hour when someone knocks on the door again, and I already know who it is.

“Auston,” Madison calls in a melodic voice from outside. “Can I have a word?”

I blow out a frustrated breath.

Emma stands up, gathering her copy of the script. “I’ll go. We're almost done anyway. We can pick it back up tomorrow. I don’t want to keep you from your girlfriend much longer. I’m starting to think her addiction is worse than mine for coffee,” she says, not hiding the sarcasm in her tone.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” I blurt. Then, I yell to Madison, “I’ll be right out.”

Emma scoffs, glancing at the door. “Um, is she aware of that? Because—”

“Look, we pretended to date for publicity in the past, and she never really stopped. She’s always dropping hints on social media or in interviews.” Closing my eyes, I massage my temple. “She says she’s doing it for the movie, but she’s just fame-hungry. And now, I’m stuck on this movie with her.”

Her face pulls into a frown. “Why doesn't your manager do anything about it?”

I rub the back of my neck. “My mom agrees with Madison. The publicity stunts we pulled in the past worked out great, so she just sees it as another opportunity.”

“I’m sorry. I thought Madison was already famous enough on her own.”

I release a sigh. “She’s not landing as many big roles as she’d hoped. At least, that’s my understanding.”

Madison knocks again, more urgently this time.

“Well, I’m still going to head out,” Emma says, adjusting her bangs. “See you tomorrow.”

I walk her to the door, and when I open it, Madison is waiting on the steps, hands on her hips. As usual, cameras flash as soon as we have one foot on the pavement, and a throng of paparazzi and fans call our names.

“Oh, you had company again?” The look she throws Emma could have sunk the Titanic.

“I told you, Emma was hired by production to help me with my character,” I say, trying not to sound like I’m justifying myself. Because I’m not. I’m just trying to avoid another deadly wreck.

“Right,” Madison says, her eyes flitting between us. “Well, your mom and I wanted to talk business. She’ll be right over.”

Emma doesn’t seem fazed by theway Madison glares at her. Instead, she’s holding her chin high, almost defying her. Emma and Madison couldn’t be more different. Emma’s tall and lean, a blatant contrast to Madison, who’s shorter in stature and wears the same curves everyone in Hollywood seems to have these days. Madison boasts long blonde hair while Emma has a short, dark haircut that gives her a stricter, more mature look. But when you look into her eyes—really look—that’s when you see a glint of softness. She tries to hide it, wearing that mask of confidence, but I saw a glimpse of it.

Emma angles herself to face me. “I’m leaving anyway. Later, Auston.”

That new attitude is one of the most obvious things that’s changed about Emma. Where the old Emma was sweet and discreet, the new Emma is brazen and doesn’t let people scare her.

Good. Looks like Madison has met her match. I’m Team Emma all the way.

My phone buzzes on my nightstand, waking me up with a jolt.

I bring the screen to my eyes tosee who’s calling, and my adrenaline spikes. I pick up at once. “Mom, what’s wrong?”

“We have a problem. Some pictures were taken yesterday, and they’re not good. Madison and I are on our way to talk strategy.” Her tone is all business. Far from her usual exuberance.

My jaw drops. “Now? It’s five a.m.”

“Then you’d better get dressed.”

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