Acting Brave (Fenbrook Academy #3) (35 page)

He’s a cop. He’ll find out.

But he’s been really cool about everything. He hasn’t pushed me at all….

He will. You know he will. You can’t have a relationship where he doesn’t really know you.

But...but but but—

I looked angrily around at my apartment. All the green fabric, the mirrors and boudoir-chic. The things I’d surrounded myself with because they were so
Jasmine.

I wanted something that was
me.

***

An hour later, I was at a flea market searching through the cheap knick-knacks. Stuff that wasn’t in demand, wasn’t worth anything, was just...old. Jasmine would have looked straight past it and gone to find an imitation pearl necklace or a Betty Paige poster or something. But I found myself picking up an old, baseball-sized globe.

It was scratched and dented, which is why it wasn’t worth much. But it had long-dead place names like
Constantinople
and
Saigon
and
Bombay.
Places that were impossible to visit anymore, which made me want to fly off to them even more. I’d never had the money to travel but, as Emma, I’d always wanted to see the world. Now, a little of that was seeping back into me.

I held up the globe and asked the guy how much.

***

Karen met me at an outdoor cafe not far from the orchestra’s rehearsal space. She still insisted on hauling her cello to lunch with her, rather than leave it in the hall. “I can’t leave it
on its own!”
she’d said, when I questioned it. Some things didn’t change.

Some things did, though. Looking at her now, in her designer black dress and heels—
heels!—
it was difficult to believe she was the same sheltered, geeky girl she’d been before Connor. A little rough, Irish charm had been good for her. I was ashamed at the sense of loss I felt. Now that Karen didn’t need my advice anymore, it felt a little like she didn’t need
me
anymore.

No. That was crazy. We’d always be friends. I just had to get used to asking
her
for help, sometimes.

The cafe made an amazing Greek salad, but I was pushing mine around the plate. “So,” I began, “I’ve sort of started...seeing Ryan.”

Karen’s eyes grew enormous. “Please say you mean sexy cop Ryan.”

I nodded. “Yes. Sexy cop Ryan.”

For a moment, it was as if she was Karen the virgin again, leaning forward across the table, desperate for details. “Tell me! Tell me everything! Is he good? Is he...big?”

I blinked. I couldn’t blame her for assuming because, the whole time she’d known me, I’d
always
had sex on a first date. Usually, there was never a second date. Often, it wasn’t really a date at all. There’d always be some steamy tale to tell her, laced with throbbing cocks and hot mouths and surprising tattoos. Sometimes, the stories would be true and sometimes, I’d exaggerate. But this time, there was no story at all. “Umm…” I said nervously, “actually, I haven’t slept with him yet.”

Karen stared at me. “Is there something wrong with him?”

“No.”

“Is there something wrong with
you?
Was it...you know? A
blackout day
on the calendar?”

I had to smile at that. She was still lurching between being super-embarrassed about sex and wanting to try anything and everything with Connor. “No, Karen, it wasn’t a
blackout day.
I just...want to take things slow with him.”

She sat back in her seat and nodded sagely.

“You know when you started dating Connor,” I said slowly, “and he’d been to prison?”

She nodded again.

“And the dyslexia, too. He didn’t tell you about either of those things at first, right?”

“I knew about both of them by the time he asked me out,” said Karen. “He told me about prison. I figured it out, with the dyslexia.”

My heart sank. “How’s that going, anyway?”

“Pretty good. He’s seeing a specialist and that’s really helping. He’s still uptight about it, though. Don’t mention it, when you see him.”

“I won’t.” I was clutching at straws, now. “Okay, so....you
did
know about his past. But if you hadn’t, if he’d kept stuff from you, like being in prison, and you’d found out later...how do you think you would have taken it?”

Karen frowned at me. “What’s all this about? What do you think Ryan’s hiding from you?”

Of course she’d assume it was him doing the lying. She thought she knew everything about me. My stomach twisted into knots at the thought of how I’d lied to her—how I’d lied to all of my friends. “It’s not like that. It’s just…” I sighed. “Do you think that if he hadn’t told you at all, and you’d
never
found out, it would have been okay between you?”

Karen had put her fork down and was shaking her head silently at me. “What’s the matter with you? You’re all...weird. What happened to you?”

I looked at my plate. “I think I’ve fallen for someone,” I said, half to myself.

“Well that’s
good!
I mean, finally! But what...you think he’s keeping something from you? Like Clarissa thinks with Neil?”

I latched onto that. “Something like that. I mean, he has secrets and that works, right?”

“No. It doesn’t. I mean, it worked for a while because it was all kinky sex, but look at them now. They argue all the time. It’s only calmed down because Clarissa’s going to go with him to Vegas.”

It was true. Neil’s mysterious “business” had been viable when Clarissa had been just his...what?
Submissive?
But as soon as she’d wanted a proper relationship, she’d had to deal with it. Ryan and I were already reaching that stage.

I must have looked forlorn because Karen leaned forward again. “Jasmine,
talk to me!
Come on, you always share everything with me!”

I looked into her eyes. I had always told her everything in the past...but that was stuff that didn’t matter, stuff that wasn’t real. The one-night stands, even the escorting...they were part of Jasmine’s life. My past...that was part of Emma’s. And if I told her about Emma, if she found out who I really was, she wouldn’t want to know me.

“I’m fine,” I said, and gave her my best Jasmine smile. “You know us actors. Always over-thinking things. I’m just nervous because I really like him.”

Karen gave me a half smile, but I could tell she wasn’t buying it. For three years, I’d always managed to lie to my friends. Now, in the space of two days, I’d failed with two of them. I could feel my outer shell of Jasmine cracking and splitting with every passing second.

“We’re good, right?” I asked when we’d finished our meals. And Karen said of course we were and hugged me. But it felt as if we weren’t touching at all.

Chapter 41

Ryan

“So this is Flicker,” Jasmine told me, beaming. “I think you’ve been in here once, right?”

I nodded. “Just once.” The night some slimeball had groped Karen and Connor had knocked him halfway across the bar. Luckily, Hux and I had been in the area and arrived in time to defuse the thing without anyone getting arrested. “You know, your friend tried to get me to ask you out,” I said quietly.

Jasmine stared at me. “Who?
Karen?!”

I nodded.

She blinked. “Why didn’t you?”

I remembered only too well. Because I was just a beat cop and she was an actress, an angel far out of my reach. I’d known I wasn’t good enough for her. If the TV show hadn’t happened, I’d never have gotten close enough to even try. Even now, I was still worried by the gulf between us. Just because we liked each other didn’t mean we were right for each other.

“Just nervous, I guess,” I lied.

Then Natasha, Karen and Clarissa were all swarming around us: perfume and smooth skin and excitement. They were all gorgeous...but I had eyes only for Jasmine.

She towed me over to a table and there were the men. Neil was a biker, about the same size as me and unapologetic in his black jeans and leather jacket. Clarissa looked tiny and fragile as she cuddled in next to him. The posh girl and the biker—now
that
must be an interesting story.

Darrell, Natasha’s boyfriend, was in a jacket, sleek jeans and boots—expensive clothes, but not blingy, especially for a billionaire. He was the opposite of what I’d expected. I’d pictured a fast-talking guy yakking on his phone about stock prices and takeovers, but he reminded me more of a mechanic. I could feel callouses on his hands when we shook and he had that steady, calm vibe of a guy who’s got exactly what he wants in life. And from the way he kept looking adoringly into Natasha’s eyes, what he wanted was her.

I felt like I had most in common with Connor, Karen’s boyfriend. He and Karen might have a big record deal, now, and he might be from Ireland, not Brooklyn, but we still had similar, blue-collar roots. He was the one who persuaded the girls that, as a first-timer, I was allowed to have a beer and not one of the crazy cocktails the bar served. I was grateful for that. I was far enough out of my comfort zone without a drink with an umbrella in it.

Jasmine seemed to be back to her old self—the talkative, bouncy woman I’d first been entranced by. I still loved her like that—I loved her no matter what—but, now that I’d seen another side to her, I wondered why she was putting on an act. Wouldn’t her friends think it was weird?

“So,” said Clarissa. “Ryan. Finally. What’s it like being a cop?”

I considered. “Boring. Exciting.”

“You enjoy hasslin’ people?” asked Neil. “Hasslin’ bikers?” His voice was a shock. Californian, from the sound of it, a full-on sun-drenched drawl.

I met his gaze. “We never hassle anyone for the fun of it.” I looked pointedly at his biker jacket. “Unless you’re one of the
one percent.
Then, you’re fair game.
”

A slow smile cracked across Neil’s face. “I like this one already,” he rumbled.

Natasha was looking between Jasmine and me. “So you wear a uniform and stuff, on the show?”

“A fake uniform, yeah.”

“Do you get to take it home with you?” asked Clarissa. She looked at Jasmine. “Nightstick? Handcuffs?”

Jasmine gave her a mock-glare. I flushed but smiled. It was a little like being interrogated, but it wasn’t too bad, so far. I realized I’d already drained my beer. Connor brought me another. I liked him even more.

“So how did the two of you get together?” asked Darrell.

I thought back to the screen test. “I guess what started it was...I kind of crashed Jasmine’s big audition.” I winced. “Stupid, right?”

Darrell exchanged a grin with Natasha and she ruffled his hair. “She’ll forgive you,” he said. “Eventually.”

***

An hour passed, then two. The other three couples seemed friendly enough. I caught myself.
Did I just think of us as a couple?
But then some other Fenbrook students joined us. A couple of musicians who played with Karen and some actors who knew Jasmine. If anything, Jasmine amped up her happy, bouncy act even more and, for the first time, I understood. She wasn’t putting on the act for me. She was putting it on for her friends.

Her friends only knew this side of her. They’d never seen that scared, helpless girl I’d glimpsed. The enormity of what she’d done hit me. She’d opened up to me in a way she hadn’t with anyone else.

Now, though, she was trying harder than ever to show everyone there was nothing wrong. She talked acting with the acting students and, in theory, everything should have been fine. I mean, I was an actor now too, right? But I wasn’t trained like they were. I didn’t know who Kafka was or what the hell Meisner technique was. I didn’t know how to improvise. So I just smiled and nodded and drank.

Karen could see I was looking lost, so she tried to draw me into the conversation she was having with the other musicians. But they were discussing composers and second movements and bowing. So, again, I nodded as if I understood. And drank. I looked for Jasmine, but she’d disappeared off with Natasha.

Clarissa was looking at me, worried, and got me to pull up a chair and join in with her, Neil and Natasha. They were making plans for a winter getaway in New Hampshire. Okay, fine. Holiday plans. That, I could deal with.

Then they started discussing ski passes. “You want the full pass,” said Clarissa knowledgeably. “It’s a lot less hassle.”

“How much is that?” I asked innocently.

“Pretty reasonable,” she said. “$1200 or so?”

She must have seen my face because she said, awkwardly, “There’s a cheaper one. Like, $800.”

I nodded and forced a smile onto my face. And drank some more.
I don’t have anything in common with these people. Anything at all.
From what I’d seen, Jasmine didn’t have a lot of money either...but she was an actress, an artistic type. She had
that
in common with her friends. I didn’t know acting or music or dance
and
I didn’t have money. I looked across at Neil. Out of all of them, he was the only one in the same position...and I got the impression it worked for him because he just plain didn’t care.