Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 111443 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111443 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
“Can you text me? I’m having a bloody hard time hearing you.”
Yeah, I added the bloody for Seb’s benefit. His casual indifference didn’t fool me. He was listening and probably sifting through my words and mannerisms for inspiration. And as ridiculous as this charade was, it might have actually worked if Macy wasn’t so…Macy.
She howled with laughter in all her bawdy glory through the line. I could picture everyone at Casa del Sol craning their necks to get a glimpse of the platinum blonde bombshell with her long pink lacquered fingernails and matching lipstick cackling like a hyena. There was no sense in talking over her merriment.
“Oh, my gawd! You’re fuckin’ priceless. I just wanted to tell you not to come in. It’s dead tonight and Ravi asked me to cover the later shift to save you the trip.”
“Tell him it’s no trouble at all.”
Unfortunately, even my toned-down British accent sent her over the edge. Seb couldn’t hide his curiosity when Macy lost her shit again.
“Bwahaha! Oh, Jesus, you’re good. Kinda like Sherlock Holmes…if he was from Philly. Geez, you’re killing my mascara game.” She sighed with a chuckle. “Listen, I know you’re not happy about losing the hours, but I’ll bake you something special. You love my cookies. Later, handsome.”
I pressed End Call and braved a glance across the table.
Seb cocked his head. “Bad news?”
“You could say that.” I reached for my water and drained half my glass, wishing it were moonshine. “It’s slow at the restaurant and I’m not needed. Not the end of the world, but it’s bad timing.”
“Sorry to hear that,” he replied politely.
Too politely. The gig was up. He was on to me. I could play this two ways: either keep going or come clean. I wasn’t sure if my pride or my career was at stake. Maybe it didn’t matter anyway. I should have been thrilled I’d scored an hour of Seb’s time, but I suddenly wished I’d earned it by being myself.
I chewed on the inside of my cheek, studying Seb’s chiseled features highlighted under the dimly lit chandelier. He looked so fucking…sophisticated, so suave. The fact that he worried about ageism and being a good dad only made him more attractive…more real. He was Hollywood elite and, most likely, a natural bullshitter. But unlike me, he’d been honest.
I guzzled the last of my water and somehow resisted the urge to sink into the booth. I was too big to hide, and I probably had less than a minute before he kicked me to the curb anyway.
“You’re staring at me, mate,” I grumbled, trying out my accent one more time as I popped the olive into my mouth.
“I’m just wondering how much longer you can keep it up.”
I almost made a dick joke to defuse the cringingly awkward moment. Thankfully, good sense prevailed.
“What do you mean?” I bluffed.
“You’re American.”
And cut scene.
I flashed a phony grin, then sighed as if the effort exhausted me. “Guilty.”
“Where are you really from?”
“Born in Jersey, raised in Philly.”
He swirled the amber liquor in his glass, his eyes locked on mine. “I see. So the London part was…an audition?”
“Something like that.” I scratched my ear and shrugged. “How’d I do?”
“Not great.”
“What? I was damn good, and you know it.”
Seb rolled his eyes. “You were okay. You could probably do a passable job with a line or two in a small role…as the bad guy. Your menacing glare is top-notch.”
“Gee, thanks.” I glowered when his chuckle morphed into something heartier. “At least you were entertained.”
“I definitely was. Thank you.”
I snorted. “I shouldn’t have answered my phone. Macy has a big fuckin’ mouth.”
“She sounds like fun, but I knew who you were before you met me here,” he said cryptically. “My secretary vetted you.”
“What? When?”
“When I dropped you off to get your car. Can’t take chances in my position, Trent. I tend to act without thinking things through. Which mostly works for me. I’m a big fan of trusting my gut and taking chances. My gut tells me you’re a good guy. And my secretary told me you’re from Philadelphia, and you’ve lived in Boston and New York.”
“Hmph. What else did she tell you?”
“Not much. Just that you’re new to the studio. I told her to leave your file out. Send your info to her tomorrow if you’re interested in a position on another set.” Seb tipped back his glass, then smiled absently. “It was nice to meet you.”
Apparently, I was dismissed.
I sucked in a deep breath and exhaled slowly, feeling like a complete moron. Yeah, this was my idea, but knowing that he’d humored me for entertainment purposes was…humiliating.
Okay, that was dramatic. Hey, I’d taken a chance and I’d probably gotten what I deserved, but that didn’t mean I had to like it.
I pulled my wallet from my pocket as I stood and tossed a twenty on the table. It was probably half of what I owed him, but better than nothing. “It was nice to meet you too. Good night, Mr. Rourke.”