Page 23 of Nothing But the Truth

He sat sideways in her chair, draping his grasshopper legs over the arm. His feet still touched the floor. “A new role. I’m taking the crown in a modern take on Henry V, which the writers dubbed Five”—he held up his hands like the word was an exploding firecracker—“and the geniuses in marketing decided to brand it as just the Roman numeral five, so everyone has taken to calling it V like the letter. It’s a complete disaster.”

His voice betrayed no concern over the disaster, and it made Lucy smile.

“Sounds interesting.”

“Indeed. Rehearsals for the next month, opening this summer.” He waved a bored hand, then suddenly sat straight up, feet on the floor in front of him, and pressed his hands to his knees. His penchant for languid, graceful movement coupled with explosive action made him exciting to watch. Lucy had seen him onstage several times, and it was for that exact reason that she couldn’t take her eyes off him. “I’ll have a pair of tickets with your name on them ready and waiting.”

“I look forward to it.”

Zeke’s charming energy, his larger-than-life presence, and the thought of him onstage portraying a fifteenth-century king made her marvel at her own suspension of disbelief. How actors convinced her to trust what they were saying and doing—that they were someone else.

A glance at the clock said she had under two hours to fix her problem before she met Lily, and heading into negotiations with an A-lister was not something one did under the influence of strict morality. She wasn’t going to lie to Lily, of course not. But she might need to make some promises, dangle a few exaggerations, to get her to take the bait. And she couldn’t do that with her tongue tripping over every untruth. She suddenly wondered that if maybe she pretended to be someone else, if that person could bend the truth.

It was farfetched, but so was every single thing that had happened to her since she woke that morning.

“Zeke, can I ask you something?”

“Anything. I’m yours to read like a book.”

“When you’re acting, how do you get in the head of someone else and make their will come out of your mouth?”

His brow flicked. He seemed to search internally for the answer, and Lucy wondered if she’d ignorantly asked him to give away the ultimate trade secret. “Well, you let your own thoughts go,” he said. “You let the character fill your mind and body. You think like them, move like them. You forget how you would react in any given situation, and suddenly, you are them.”

It sounded like a simple recipe.

“That sounds easy enough.” She smiled.

His face flattened into a stare so lethal, Lucy almost hid under her desk. “Darling, if it were easy, everyone would have three Emmys and an Oscar.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean—”

He waved his hands with an embellished sigh. “It’s all right. I’m sure if being a publicist were easy, we’d all swan around in skirt suits with raging ulcers and phones attached to our heads too. I like the casual look today, by the way. Very La Bohème.”

Heat blossomed on her cheeks, but she couldn’t help smiling.

“Why do you ask? Are you thinking of a career change?”

The thought that she might need to change careers after what went down with Jonathan cooled her smile. “No.”

“Good. I couldn’t bear to lose you on my team. You are my single most favorite person alive on this planet.” He kicked an ankle onto his knee and waggled his fingers away from his face like he was opening a curtain. “Now, I’ve come to discuss getting this gorgeous mug on everyone’s obsession list, so let’s talk strategy.”

Lucy settled into the business at hand, discussing social media tactics, appearances, an interview with the city’s theater guild. They drew up plans and picked who, what, and where would best make Zeke Davidson’s star shine brighter. She didn’t stumble over any lies because she didn’t have to tell any with Zeke. He always wanted it straight. When they finished, he kissed both her cheeks and whisked out the door with a promise to wave at her in the audience on opening night of Five/V, whichever she wanted to call it.

As soon as he left, she checked her email. She’d ignored it while they met, and not only was an hour more than sufficient time for the world of celebrity gossip to implode, but there was also a non-zero chance she had a summons from a J—or, even worse, HR. To her relief, her inbox held nothing of the sort. Still, she couldn’t resist peeking out at the two corner offices.

Both Js had their doors closed, and her heart settled into a more normal rhythm, figuring her job was secure at least until lunch. She leaned farther out her door and caught Oliver’s ever-watchful eye. She tilted her head as a sign she wanted to chat, and he held up a finger.

Knowing he’d be a minute, Lucy turned back into her office, ready to test out her new theory. Let your own thoughts go, Zeke said. Let the character fill your mind and body.

She was going to pretend to be someone else. How hard could it be? Apparently, with all the lies the universe had informed her she told on a daily basis, she was pretending to be someone else every single day.

That thought felt very significant, but she didn’t have time to dwell on it. Not when she had to hightail it to the bar for Plan B before lunch if Plan A—become a character—failed. She vowed to return to the thought later and analyze its importance. She would do it even if she fixed her problem because surely there was a lesson to be learned from it all.

Become a character.

She knew exactly who to be: Daphne. Her night-out alter ego when she didn’t want to give her real name. Daphne was born along with Nina’s alter ego, Claire, in the carefree era of college parties. When inhibition blurred into transient lust they didn’t want following them home. The names only grew handier when frat parties morphed into bar hopping, the club scene, eventually industry events. The boys from college became men with delusions of entitlement, and the alter egos endured out of necessity. Daphne had changed interests and professions over the years. She’d been pre-med, a marine biologist, oddly into taxidermy once, even a lawyer for a cool ten minutes.

Lucy was ready to have her play the part of a publicist who needed to pull it together for a very important lunch so she didn’t blow her promotion, assuming it was still on the table.

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