Page 8 of Fool Me

“I wouldn’t know.”

“But…your neighbors are nice?”

“Sure.”

“How are your sisters doing? You have sisters, right?”

“I don’t want to talk about my family.”

Grant gave his neck a twist until it made a quiet cracking sound. He hardly needed to worry about highs in the eighties if she continued to be this icy. Time to go for the final topic, the one thing all actors are desperate to talk about. “So, how’s the acting been going? Had much success with auditions?”

A sulky silence settled into the seat wells of the open top car until, finally, she spoke. “I’ve been working the deli at StarMont this whole time.” To keep her hat from flying away, she gripped it on her lap. He noticed her fingers tighten on the brim. “Just trying to get my big break—or even a small one.”

“Nothing so far?”

“No. Some people get their careers handed to them, while others struggle no matter how hard they work and how talented they are.”

“Isn’t that the truth,” he said. “Do you know how I ended up at StarMont?”

“I don't personally follow your career, no,” she said, in a tone like poison-laced lemonade.

“I was an extra in an action movie, but only because I happened to be in the right bank at the right time. The location where they’d originally planned to film had just been robbed for real. The police had cordoned it off, so they’d gone to a nearby branch.”

“Lots of people in LA end up as extras by accident.”

“Yes, but I mentioned I’d done some acting, and when they needed someone to say a few lines, they had me do a quick audition. Then, during editing, they came back and asked if I could film a few more lines and be in a later scene too that they re-filmed—a scene with Mark Briddle himself. It amounted to enough of a role that StarMont sent me a contract and gave me small parts in two more films.”

“What role are you playing with Julia?”

Grant caught the question’s double meaning, but didn’t take the bait. “Well, that’s the most amazing thing of all. I met Julia through Mark, and suddenly StarMont wanted me for the leading man in her next rom com. Ronny told my agent she’d insisted on a fresh face.”

“Right. Your face got you the job.”

“I mean…I suppose. Or maybe I fit the role somehow?Surf Summeris a period piece set in the sixties. You know, surfboards, bikinis, and…”

“Convertibles like this one.”

He gave the steering wheel a nervous pat. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Or maybe it was all your surfing experience from growing up in, where was it?”

“Ohio.”

“Right. Hanging ten in the corn fields?”

Grant felt like a chicken pecking for nonexistent crumbs. Not only did she still dislike him, but she was sour grapes about his big break. He understood the frustration. What aspiring actor didn't feel that way at least a little at seeing others making it in the industry while they waited tables? But most would at least pretend to be happy about another’s success, if only for the connections it could bring. Not Sadie. The fact that he could help her career didn't make a whit of difference. And maybe she was right. She was getting her break by going out on a few fake dates with him. Besides, Hollywood was a fickle creature. The lucky stars that brought him to StarMont could just as easily realign in a sinister way, dashing his hopes and prospects.

He decided to try one last time with something that might pique her interest. “But, hey, in a few weeks, Ronny is hosting a beach-themed press launch party forSurf Summerat his house in the Hollywood Hills. The place is straight up mid-century modern, all curves and glass and a giant pool, and I hear he throws the best parties. I’ll make sure you get an invite.”

Several beats of charged silence followed, before she finally said, “That won’t be necessary.”

The car’s mapping program announced they were nearing the festival.

“Do we need to let Ronny know where we are?” Grant asked.

“I let him know this morning. There should be plenty of photographers.”

“Oh, okay. And I guess we need to act like we’re a couple, right? Seems like we should discuss that, maybe set some ground rules?”

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