Page 116 of Heavy Shot

Rhiannon felt herself deflating. “There has to be some misunderstanding.”

“It’s the business, though. Couples get into character in these roles, fake fucking for a week, then convince themselves they are in love. Those two have a history, and Kline’s in full competition mode with Thad. It writes itself as they say.”

She let out a long breath. “I’m going to call her and ask.”

“Did you read the last? She’s gone on a mini-break with him and his kid in the Maldives. That’s a dead zone for Wi-Fi.”

"I told Thad to just make a clean cut. Even if it isn't what it appears to be, that's shit. If they did set that up for the photo op--"Rick made a disgusted noise. "That's sick, especially if she hadn’t warned him."

"She wouldn't have married him," Rhiannon insisted.

"You don’t know that, Rhi. It’s Hollywood. People do stranger things.”

“Is Thad okay?”

“He was when I left him down here last night. He said he just wanted to be alone and think.”

“I’ll check on him in a little while.”

“Probably good. I’m sorry to spring this on you.”

“At least you got to tell Thad and he didn’t just find out.”

“At the very least. I hate the fucking PR machine. I wish we could just make good movies and let people watch them, but the only way to get attention seems to be scandal or something so big people can’t ignore the film.”

“Do you just hate the business entirely?” Their food had come, but Rhiannon was feeling sick. All she wanted to do was clear out of the booth and try to call Jill, with whom she’d been playing phone tag for days.

“Honestly? Yeah. If I had my life to do over, I’d be a farmer.”

They both laughed, “No you wouldn’t!”

“No, I wouldn’t. But maybe investment banking or something. Not this weird shit. How about you?”

Rhiannon pushed her hair behind her ears and let out a breath. There wasn’t anything she could do about Jill or Thad in the moment, so she tried to shake that off. “I don’t know. I don’t really have to work–trust fund baby–and I’ve never wanted to do anything other than write. I can’t say that writing has turned out to be what I thought it would, but it’s not terrible. I was supposed to go to college and get my MRS, and I mortified my family by getting an MA instead. I’ve been trying to make my own name, outside the family. I’d still want to do that. Maybe I’d study psychology along with the writing so I could understand people better, though.”

“Yeah. It’s people that are the problem. Not the industry,” he said with a laugh.

“People are the worst.”

“The worst.”

They sat in silence for a little while, each eating slowly and mulling over their own thoughts until Rick cleared his throat. “So, when this ends, if it ever ends, you going to let me take you out?”

She could feel herself smiling. “I think I might.”

“Good. Then my evil plan to get you close to me long enough to realize I’m not a terrible guy worked.”

“Good plan! Yeah, it didn’t hurt watching you help put up rigging. Who knew you worked out?”

“My trainer. Jesus. He’s killing me.”

They finished out the rest of their meal in amiable conversation until Rick walked Rhiannon back to her hotel room door. “Thanks for the company,” he said, and for a moment, she thought he would kiss her, but he pulled back.

“Yeah. You too.”

When he had gone, she hugged herself for a second, surprised to realize that the crush she’d started nursing on him months prior had escalated into full-on desire. She didn’t think she could concentrate on work, didn’t want to read, and didn’t want to watch another rerun of the A-Team on Prague’s TV channel, so she decided to go check on Thad.

She went up a floor and down the hall to the last room on the corner and knocked. It was several seconds before a rumpled, beautiful woman answered in heavily accented English. “Yes?”

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