Page 32 of Catch Me
“Fine,” I murmur like it’s a real chore to go share a meal with Andreas Knight. It’s not, but I can’t help it when Rebecca’s warnings flit through my mind. She’s not on set today or any other day since the first day of filming.
That doesn’t mean the rumor mill won’t get back to her. As an attorney working with entertainers, Mya often reminds me that in this industry there are lots of secrets, but gossip is currency.
“Keep your business to yourself,” she’s told me more than once.
The last thing I need is to become part of the rumor mill. Besides, I know too well that secrets always have a way of making it into the light. My secrets, anyway. And typically, I’m the one who ends up on the losing end of the stick when they do.
Even these mental warnings don’t keep me from walking across the studio lot toward the trailers. I bypass Michael Keith’s trailer, the makeup trailer, and Ron Stoke’s trailer before I come to the one that reads Andreas Knight.
Luckily, there aren’t many people around.
However, I stop myself from knocking when I hear murmurs coming from the inside. Maybe he’s changed his mind anddoesn’t want to have lunch with me, or he forgot and decided to invite someone else.
As the possibilities spin in my mind, the trailer door pops open. Andreas’ smile is instant as soon as he lays eyes on me.
My belly heats.
“Ivy. I was about to come looking for you.”
There’s a glint in his eyes, and I believe he’s serious.
“I heard voices. I can leave if you’re busy.” I point over my shoulder.
He takes a step down one of the stairs, extending his hand for me to take. “Never.”
The moment our fingers touch, the warmth that started in my belly spreads out over the rest of my body.
“Come in.”
He steps aside, making room for me. As soon as I enter, though, I come face-to-face with a man who appears to be in his fifties, or maybe sixties. In Hollywood you never know someone’s age.
“This is Stan Donovan,” Andreas introduces. “My manager.”
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Donovan.” I shake his extended hand. “I apologize for the interruption.”
“No problem at all,” Stan says. “I was just leaving.” He pauses before cocking his head sideways, observing me. “You look familiar.”
My stomach does a somersault. “Really?”
His eyebrows dip. “Yes. Have you done any acting?”
“No, not at all,” I murmur.
“Hm. Are you sure you haven’t been in front of the camera?”
I swallow as I feel Andreas move to stand beside me, his gaze on me. The back of my neck heats. “Positive,” I lie.
I hate to think of where he might’ve seen me on camera before. Only one instance I can think of and that thought makes me want to curl up into a ball and hide.
My disastrous college graduation where I had a full-on panic attack on stage. Unfortunately, videos of that embarrassing incident made their rounds online.
“I leave the acting to the professionals.” I gesture toward Andreas with a laugh.
Stan nods. “Anyway,” he turns to Andreas before finishing, “I have a meeting across town. Andreas,” he points at him, “don’t forget what we talked about. This could be big for your career and great promotion for the movie.”
Andreas hurries his manager out of the trailer, leaving the two of us.
“What was that about?” I ask. “Is there some sort of promotion for the movie already? You guys aren’t even halfway finished with the filming.”
