Page 42 of Prelude of Love

Rook barked out a laugh. “Here’s an industry secret: behind every egotistical actor is a raging inferiority complex.” He clasped my shoulder. “Welcome to the club, kid. You’re in good company.”

The tension in my chest eased. “They’re going to revoke my playboy card if I can’t flirt with you better than this. But Tennyson, he…” I shuddered.

“Forget about him,” Rook said firmly. “Focus only on me. Show me that famous Chance Prince charm I’ve heard so much about. Don’t let your inner saboteur win.”

His words echoed Early’s earlier encouragement, and something important clicked into place. They were both rooting for me to succeed.

“Thanks for humoring my newbie nerves.”

“Hey, we’ve all been rookies.” Rook’s smile was genuine, putting me at ease. “And messing up? That’s the first step to getting better. You can’t learn if you don’t fail a few times first.”

His pep talk gave me the boost I needed to face the cameras again when we returned to the bar area. Instead of Duke’s presence feeling like a weight of judgment, it was now an anchor keeping me steady.He’d seen me at my most vulnerable, so the only direction left was up.

“Ready?” Rook asked as we took our positions.

I nodded, channeling my charm that came so naturally when I performed. “Let’s show them what we’ve got.”

“Places,” Tennyson called. “And try not to fuck it up this time, okay? Action!”

When I walked into the frame, my hips swayed the way they did when I owned a stage. Rook polished a glass with practiced ease. Our eyes met, and instead of freezing, I let myself appreciate how striking he looked in the bar’s warm lighting.

“Looking for something specific?” he asked, his tone balanced between professional and intrigued.

I leaned against the counter, close enough to catch that hint of his woodsy cologne. “Maybe. Depends on what you’re offering.” The words flowed smoothly this time, playful rather than forced.

“We’ve got a full bar and decent food.” Rook’s eyes flickered over me with careful interest. “Though something tells me you’re not just here for the menu.”

“What gave me away? Was it my obvious charm or my desperate need for approval?” I flashed a charming smile I prayed didn’t look like a grimace.

The improvised line earned me a genuine chuckle from Rook. “If you’re looking for more than food, we have an open mic night coming up. Musicians get their first drink free.”

“Now, that’s the kind of hospitality I love.” I drummed my fingers on the bar, another natural gesture that wasn’t in the script but felt right. “Though I have to warn you: one free drink might not be enough to get me to share my musical talents.”

Our chemistry finally clicked into place. “Is that so?” Rook hummed with interest. “What would it take, then?”

“Keep looking at me like that, and we might be able to negotiate something.” The words came out smoother than butter, making Rook laugh with what sounded like genuine amusement.

“Cut!” Tennyson’s tone wasn’t as sharp as before. “The ad-libs worked. Keep that energy, but stick closer to the script. Let’s take it from the top one more time.”

It wasn’t quite praise, but it wasn’t criticism either. I’d take it.

We ran through the scene several more times, each take feeling more natural than the last. The flirting came easier now that I’d found my footing with Rook, and he didn’t seem so scary and untouchable. We played off each other’s energy, building a chemistry that felt authentic rather than forced.

During a brief pause between takes, I caught Duke’s eye. His subtle nod of approval sent warmth spreading through my chest. Maybe I wasn’t completely out of my depth after all.

Tennyson gestured for another round. “One more time. Let’s make it count.”

The last take flowed like music, each line and gesture hitting perfectly. When Tennyson yelled, “Cut,” with satisfaction rather than frustration, pride replaced my earlier shame. I belonged there, in front of the cameras, creating something real with Rook.

Chapter Eleven

DUKE

I leanedagainst the back wall of my restaurant, arms crossed as I observed the film crew working their magic to transform the Hurly-burly into a different bar for their movie. The lighting changes alone made the place almost unrecognizable. I told myself I was only monitoring things, making sure they didn’t damage anything while filming. It had nothing to do with watching a certain rock star try his hand at acting for the first time.

My protective instincts flared as I watched him struggle, wanting to step in and shield him from Tennyson’s criticism. But after his talk with Rook, Chance had found his footing. Now, seeing him nail take after take, I experienced an odd surge of pride.

“Action!” Tennyson called out for what felt like the hundredth time.

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