Flirting With Fame (Flirting With Fame) (9 page)

I pressed the bandage down on my forehead before whisking my hair back to its normal position. “It’s a pretty intense fandom. But I’m sure you’re no stranger to overactive fans.”

His shoulders shook with laughter. “True. Still, I’m kind of nervous. This is a totally different thing than what I usually do. People are already fans of the series and I don’t want to screw that up. It’ll be good to talk to Aubrey and make sure I’m doing things the way she imagined.”

“Right.” I traced a line on the tarp floor with the toe of my canvas shoe. “Well, I’m sure she’ll keep you on track. I mean, that’s why they invited her here, isn’t it?”

“I guess so.”

Gavin grinned and my head spun, though I wasn’t sure if it was from the sight of his perfect teeth or from the head wound.

He brushed my hair over my shoulder to make one last check on my bandage. His breath whispered against my cheek, cooler than the suffocating heat around us.

“Well.” He stood. “That’s the best I can do. I don’t think it needs stitches or anything. I’d better get you back to Aubrey. I’m sure she’s wondering what happened to her assistant.”

“Right. I’m sure she is.” I hoped he couldn’t hear the sarcasm dripping from my words.

Gavin held out a hand. I let him pull me off the cot and into his arms. I was struck again by the warmth of his body. He released me and we shuffled out of the tent. I blinked against the sunlight and realized I no longer had my sunglasses. They’d probably been knocked off when I collided with the boat. Great.

We headed back to the entrance of the set and Veronica pounced on me like a tiger on a mouse.

“Where the hell have you been?” she said.

“I, uh, I got hit by a boat.” I lifted my hair to show her the bandage.

“Seriously? Leave it to you. Now come with me. The director’s asking me questions and I have no clue what he wants. I need your help to—”

She stopped as her eyes skimmed my shoulder. I glanced back at Gavin and he gave her a smile and held out his hand.

“Gavin Hartley,” he said. “I assume you’re Aubrey Lynch?”

Veronica smoothed her hair and straightened her ridiculously expensive sunglasses. The coldness with which I’d been greeted melted like gelato on a hot day. Her smile was all sugar and cream. “That’s right. Nice to meet you.”

“You too,” Gavin said. “We’re going to have to sit and have a chat about your vision for Dag soon.”

“Of course. That would be wonderful. Do you happen to have your phone on you?”

Gavin reached into his perfectly tight jeans and produced the latest version of the most popular smartphone. Veronica typed in a few numbers and handed it back, once again flashing him her perfectly white teeth and batting her long lashes. “There’s my number. Call me anytime to talk about the books or . . . whatever.”

His smile was more dazzling than the sun, thanks in part to Hollywood dentistry. “Will do. Well, I have to get to wardrobe for a fitting. You’re okay, Elise?”

I nodded and glanced at Veronica, whose face snapped to mine. Her eyes narrowed as she studied me. Gavin tapped me on the shoulder to get my attention.

Nice to meet you
, he signed. He paused.
Do you have a sign name?

I bit my lip. Sign names were a unique thing in Deaf culture. They were basically a sort of sign language nickname someone could use instead of hand-spelling your entire name. My sign name had been given to me by the kids in my Deaf school, and I’d never fully embraced it. I didn’t share it with many people, but the fact that Gavin even understood what a sign name was gave me a confidence I wasn’t used to.

I formed the letter
e
with my right hand and traced it down my cheek, the ridged scar tissue pressing against my flesh.
I’m the girl with the scar.

I swallowed and stared at the ground, only to feel his hand on my chin. He leaned in and kissed the spot on my cheek where my fingers had just been. His lips, unlike the rest of him, were soft.

He traced an
e
down his own face to show he’d learned my sign name.
It’s a strong name
, he signed.
Thank you for teaching it to me. I’ll see you later. Try not to get hit by any more boats, okay?

I could only nod before he handed me my bag and headed down the beach. He took his sweet scent and my newfound boldness with him. The only proof he’d been so close lay in the tingles that spread across my cheek where his lips had touched.

V
eronica gaped at me for a full minute before shaking her head. Her body tensed as Gavin left our sight, her back and shoulders straightening in the way I’d grown accustomed to.

“What the hell was that?” she asked.

“Nothing,” I said. “He helped me when I got hurt.”

“Oh.” She didn’t even bother to ask if I was okay. “Anyway, did you hear Gavin mention he wants to get together with me? You think it’s, like, a date or something?”

I shrugged. “It sounds like he wants to talk about the books. He told me he wants to get Dag just right.”

“Well, I’ll make sure we talk about more than some boring old books.”

“Hey! Those are
my
boring old books!”

“Whatever.” She took my arm and guided me toward the shack that would be Thora’s house. “I’m sure you can fill me in on all that later. For now, I need you to help me with this director. And here, if you are my assistant, you should probably carry my crap.”

Veronica shoved a purse with the same logo as her sunglasses into my chest. I shot her a dirty look and slipped the strap over my shoulder with my own bag before following her into the shack.

The set designer’s attention to detail sent me reeling. I stood in the middle of Thora’s home, my mouth wide. The wooden table Thora and her brothers would eat and plan at was perfect, right down to the notches in the center. Trinkets cluttered the shelves: trophies from successful pillages and carvings made by my heroine when she was a child learning how to wield a knife. The walls were covered with maps, pinned there by the tips of daggers.

I’d imagined dining with Thora’s family so many times in my head, I could barely contain my excitement at the possibility I could now sit down and do just that. I bounced on my heels and suppressed the urge to clap like a patron in a theater.

Veronica kicked me in the shin and glowered at me.

“What?” I asked. “Can’t I at least admire how awesome this set is?”

“You’re my assistant,” she said. “So assist me. That’s the director. Go see what he wants from me.”

She pushed me toward a short, balding man who seemed to be barking directions at a few crew members. I stumbled into the table and winced as pain shot up my hip. Was it this common for a writer to endure so many injuries on set? And by things they themselves created?

I hesitated before stepping toward the director. He looked super involved in whatever he was telling the people around us to do. I glanced back at Veronica and she motioned for me to move before turning her attention to her phone. I dug my fingers into my palm and stood beside the director.

“Um, excuse me, Mr. Rainer?” I pulled his name out of the recesses of my mind where I’d stored all the production details.

He swung around to face me and I was struck by how young he looked from the front. The missing hair from the back of his head definitely gave the wrong impression. His eyes were dark brown, sunken into his head. They darted around the room, never fully coming to rest.

“Can I help you?” he asked.

“I’m Elise Jameson,” I said. “Aubrey Lynch’s assistant.”

“Stan Rainer.” He stuck his hand out and his sweaty palm slapped against mine. “I wasn’t aware Ms. Lynch would be bringing an assistant.”

“She’s a busy woman,” I said. “But I’m quite knowledgeable about the
Viking Moon
series, so feel free to ask me anything if she’s not around.”

A tall woman with a clipboard approached us and wordlessly handed it to the director. Stan looked it over, nodded, and signed. The woman retrieved the board and disappeared out the door.

“If you don’t mind me saying, your boss is a little standoffish,” Stan said, leaning closer. “All I asked her was if this house looked like how she pictured it and she yelled at me about how she didn’t have time for stupid questions.”

I scowled at Veronica, but she had her head bent over her phone and didn’t see me.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “You know writers. They’re used to spending most of their time alone. Writing’s rarely this collaborative. But I think this place looks amazing. It’s like I’m in the books.”

“Good,” he replied. “Feel free to explore. We won’t be filming anything today, but we called Ms. Lynch in because we thought she’d want to see the set before we start.”

“It’s breathtaking,” I said. “Really.”

Stan strode off to speak to a man wrangling a bunch of lights. Veronica was at my side in seconds.

“Well?” she asked.

“He wanted to know if I liked it. And I do.”

“Fine. Now what?”

I stared at the people rushing back and forth and ducked as someone lifted a bench over our heads. The cut on the side of my head throbbed as I recalled the last time someone had moved something over me.

“We can go,” I said. “I’ve seen enough and hurt myself plenty for one day.”

“Great.” Veronica tugged me out of the house and back through the trees toward my car. “You can spend the rest of the day teaching me everything I need to know about these stupid books.”

•   •   •

We went back to my dorm for her lesson since all my
Viking Moon
notes were on my laptop, and I’d left it at home like an idiot. At least Reggie had told me the night before that she’d be spending the day with her parents, so I knew we’d have the room to ourselves. I unlocked the door and let Veronica in. She stood in front of my roommate’s side of the room, eyeing the
Viking Moon
books beside her bed before raising an eyebrow at me.

“You keep your own books next to you when you sleep?”

“Those are my roommate’s,” I said. “She’s a big fan.”

“Does she know who you are?”

“No, and we’re keeping it that way.”

“Okay.” Veronica sat on my bed and crossed her legs. I was pretty sure her wardrobe consisted only of dresses and skirts cut high enough to show off her tanned legs but still keep an air of mystery about her.

I grabbed my laptop and flipped it open. All of my books were in their own folders, neatly marked with outlines, character development arcs and traits, and Viking research. We spent hours poring over the files. To her credit, Veronica never complained or asked for a break. She rolled her eyes a couple of times when I got to some of the more romantic bits of the story, but I’d come to expect that from her.

My legs and back ached as we finished, and I closed my laptop before standing and stretching. I reached my hands over my head and glanced at the door. At that moment, it flew open and Reggie burst in.

“Hey, roomie!” Her face was red with the exertion of the stairs in the dorm and her hair puffed out in every direction. “Did you have a good day? I spent the day shopping with my mom and look at all this stuff we—”

The multitude of bags she’d been carrying fell from her hands and broke open on the floor. Books and clothing littered the hardwood around her, but she didn’t appear to notice.

“Holy crap on a Christmas cracker.”

Reggie stared at Veronica, who perched on my bed with furrowed eyebrows.

“Reggie,” I said. “This is—”

“I know who it is!” Reggie ran her hand through her thick mane. “You’re Aubrey Lynch!”

My roommate slammed into Veronica as she threw her arms around her and knocked her backward on the bed. I covered my mouth with my hand, but a laugh erupted out of me all the same. Veronica shot a venomous look in my direction.

“I take it you’re a fan?” Veronica asked.

I couldn’t see Reggie’s reply since her face was still buried in Veronica’s shoulder, but when Veronica gave me the finger, I assumed there was a lot of doting involved.

Veronica scrunched her face and unlaced my roommate from around her neck. She shoved Reggie hard enough to make her stagger across the room and stumble into her bed. Reggie straightened and looked at me, her eyes wide as she rubbed her thigh.

“Elise, what is Aubrey Lynch doing in our room?”

Veronica smoothed her skirt and looked at me to answer the question.

“Well, um, I’m her assistant while they’re filming the TV show,” I said.

“No way!” I didn’t even see Reggie’s hand as it shot out from her side and flew into my shoulder. She knocked me off balance and I lurched backward and fell onto my bed. My head hit the wall, sending pain shooting through my brain and reminding me it still ached from being knocked around earlier.

I touched my forehead. “Um, ow.”

“Sorry,” Reggie said, sitting across from us. “But how did you get the job? I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!”

“I answered an ad online,” I lied. “And I didn’t want to tell you till I was sure Aubrey was willing to hire me.”

Veronica pursed her lips as she studied my roommate. Her phone vibrated and blinked on the bed between us and she snatched it up and looked at the screen. She typed a reply, and I glanced at Reggie. My roommate shrugged.

“Well, it’s been delightful meeting a fan.” Veronica stood. “But it’s been a long-ass day. I’m gonna head home.”

“Do you need a ride?” I asked.

“Nah. I’ll grab a cab, or give some freshman boy a thrill and let him take me.”

“Okay.” I walked her to the door, hopping over Reggie’s forgotten purchases as if they were stones in a stream. “See you Thursday night? I think that’s the next time they want us there. First evening of filming.”

“Whatever.”

She exited without looking back and I closed the door behind her before taking a seat on my bed.

Reggie stared after her. “Wow, she’s kind of—”

“A bitch?” I offered.

“No! That’s not what I meant. She’s . . . she’s just not what I expected. Her books are so sweet and endearing. I thought she’d be the same.” Reggie shrugged. “But maybe she’s just socially awkward, you know? I mean, she
is
a writer. They spend an awful lot of time alone. She might just need some time to open up to people.”

“That must be it.”

“But, really, who cares about that right now,” she said. “’Cause you’re so freaking lucky! You get to
work
with her! I can’t believe it! Wait! Does this mean you also get to meet Gavin Hartley and Leila Clarke?”

The feeling of Gavin’s lips against my cheek surfaced and I touched the spot with my fingertip. “I met Gavin today, actually. He’s really sweet. I was kind of surprised. I expected someone who looks like him to be a grade-A jackass.”

“Oh my God! I’m so jealous!” Reggie flopped back on her bed and kicked the air with her feet. She turned to her side and propped herself up with her elbow. “You know what this means, right?”

I shook my head.

“This means we need to go out and celebrate! Come on! Let’s hit a bar!”

“Reggie, no. I’m really tired. It’s been a long day and I have a headache. Besides, we’re underage.”

“Oh, they don’t care about that stuff at the places around here. They know who their customers are.” She jumped to her feet and collected her purchases off the floor. “Now, come on. No excuses. Go wash up. Make yourself pretty. We’re going out.”