Page 1 of How Jenna Became My Dilemma

CHAPTER ONE

THE PROMISED PRINCE PRESS DAY: LOS ANGELES

JENNA

“Thank you both for letting me interview you.” Nina Gregory from LA Buzz stares back at us. She reminds me of someone with her candy-apple lipstick and creepy smile, but I can’t quite place it.

“Thanks for being here,” Cody answers while I say, “Of course.”

We sit side by side in matching damask topaz chairs in a suite at the Four Seasons Hotel. This is hour six of the rotation, and my face hurts from smiling so much, but a press tour is important for the series and the premiere of episode one.

“Jenna, my first question is for you.” Nina’s brown eyes swing to me. “What’s it like starring opposite Hollywood’s hottest male actor, Cody Banner, in the series adaptation of the best-selling young-adult dystopian royal romance The Promised Prince?”

Why is this always the first thing interviewers ask me? Why doesn’t she ask him what it’s like starring opposite America’s current top model? Cody shifts in his chair, and I feel his smug gaze on me. He loves this question. Has all day. But I ignore him and press my lips into a full smile, giving Nina the response she wants to hear.

“Working with Cody is absolutely delightful.”

I don’t miss his snicker.

JENNA: FOUR MONTHS AGO

“Can we go over blocking for this scene one more time? I just want to make sure it’s cemented in my brain.”

And because, honestly, I have no clue what I’m doing.

I thought my transition from modeling to acting would be easy. Walking up and down a runway involves portraying a certain persona. Acting was supposed to be an extension of that, but each day I arrive on set, I find I’m more and more out of my element and more unsure that I can actually break into acting.

Cody groans beside me, tipping his head back while dragging both hands down his face. “We’ve already been over blocking ten times.”

Then there’s Cody Banner.

He oozes with confidence and has little patience for people like me—people who aren’t confident in acting and are just faking it ‘til they make it.

But he can sense fear, so I lift my chin in his direction, hoping to fool him into thinking I’m in complete control. “And I’d like to go over it again.”

“At this rate, I’ll be eighty before we ever finish filming this scene. And honestly”—his smile perks in that smug way I’ve grown to despise—“I’m not sure eighty-year-old Cody will be as big of a hit with the ladies.”

It takes fifty-nine days of doing something to create a habit. I’ve only been ignoring Cody for thirty-seven. That’s easy math for an accounting major like me. I’m twenty-two days shy of it being a habit, but ignoring him already feels like second nature.

I glance at the director. “Quinton, do you want me standing here, or should I—”

“It’s called acting,” Cody interjects. “So just act. Don’t overthink it. Just. Act.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Is my attention to detail bugging you?” I pair my sarcasm with a fake frown.

“I’m sure it’s bugging everyone.” Cody gestures around the set to the watching crew members.

Glaring at him doesn’t adequately portray my annoyance, but that’s my only weapon—well, that and my words.

“This kind of stuff”—my hands circle through the air, implying ‘blocking’—“is what sets brilliant actors apart from mediocre ones. You should try it sometime. Then maybe you’d finally win a best actor award.”

“Oh, sweetie, that’s where you’re wrong. This kind of stuff”—he mimics my hand motions—“is what separates amateur actors from professional ones. Maybe you should go back to being a supermodel if you can’t—”

“Okay!” Quinton steps between us. “That’s enough of that. Why don’t you both take a little break before you kill each other?”

“Maybe I want to kill him.” I throw him a smile that’s way too sweet to ever be considered genuine.

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