Off Script

by Anna Paige

  I gave her the drink and sat down next to her before rubbing a hand across her back in a gesture of comfort. “This an anxiety thing?” I knew damn well it was but I wanted to get her talking, and that was the least stupid question I could come up with.

  “Pretty much,” she managed before draining half the glass.

  I cupped the side of her neck and I pulled her head onto my shoulder. “It’s okay. Work through it. I’m not going anywhere.”

  The laughter and tears were both slowing, fading, and I wanted to think I had something to do with that. “I lied to you,” she said on a long exhalation.

  “Oh yeah? About what?” I stroked her arm as I held her against my side.

  “I said I wasn’t scared but I am.”

  I leaned my cheek against the top of her head, trying to ignore the sweet smell of her shampoo and the heat of her body against my side. “We all lie about being scared.”

  “When was the last time you were afraid of anything?” she asked, wiping away her tears.

  When I woke up holding you in your bed and didn’t want to let you go.

  I wasn’t about to tell her the truth, so I went with, “More recently than you’d think. Everyone has anxiety about something and no one is impervious to fear. Anyone who tells you different is full of shit.”

  She nuzzled her head against my shoulder, sighing. “Sometimes fear and anxiety serve a purpose. They warn us when we’re about to screw up.”

  “And sometimes they make us too afraid to take chances that could change our entire lives for the better.”

  She nodded slightly. “Then how do we know which it is?”

  “We don’t. We just keep moving forward, no matter how much fear tries to hold us back.”

  “Meaning you think I should take the part as Meadow even though I’m petrified.”

  “Meaning I think you should take the part as Meadow because you’re petrified. The best moments in life are usually one step past our greatest fears.”

  She chuckled and lifted her head, smirking at me. “If I agree to go through with this, will you stop talking like a motivational speaker?”

  I returned her smile and winked. “I’ll try, but only if you promise to come to me if you ever need another pep talk.”

  “I promise.” She leaned away to reach for her glass, then dropped her free hand to my knee and patted it fondly. “You’ll probably be my only friend on set, so you might wish you could take back that offer.”

  “Doubtful. On both counts. Everyone on the show will love you, and I’d never back out on a friend.”

  She offered me some of her bourbon water and I gratefully accepted. “So, we really are friends, huh?” I nodded and she shook her head. “How is this my life? Three days ago, I was bored and going nowhere. Now I have a role on one of the hottest shows on TV and Gavin-fucking-Lane actually thinks of me as a friend.”

  I laughed and did my best fangirl impersonation. “He slept in your bed too! In his underwear!”

  She tossed a throw pillow at my head. I ducked and retaliated by stealing a long swallow of her drink.

  She countered in her own high-pitched voice. “And he even humped my leg in his sleep!”

  Turns out even watered-down bourbon burns like a bitch when it comes out your nose.

  It was all I could do to make myself leave that afternoon. After my unfortunate sinus flushing, we’d laughed and joked for hours, mostly at each other’s expense. She was a spitfire, that was for damn sure, and she wasn’t the least bit intimidated by me. It was nice being with her, uncomplicated and light-hearted. Mostly, it was nice being myself.

  Eventually, I realized if I didn’t leave right then, I’d likely end up staying another night. And that wasn’t a good idea.

  It was a great idea if you asked my dick, but that was beside the point. I didn’t want to cross any lines and ruin what was happening between me and Kaiti, even if my attraction to her was getting harder to ignore.

  I’d ended up giving some hollow excuse about having plans with friends and she’d hidden her disappointment well—but not so well that I didn’t see it. Before I left, I made sure she had my number and directions to the building we leased for shoots. She’d walked me to the door and given me a long hug before watching me go.

  The rest of the night dragged on forever, with me kicked back on my stiff, uncomfortable couch in my bland apartment, avoiding calls from pretty much everyone. There was an offer to be seen with an old castmate and her entourage at a club, but I ignored it. I wasn’t in the mood. It was exhausting spending time with other industry types. I always had to be on, playing the part of the big deal TV star like they did.

  It was wearing on me—all of it. I’d been dragging for a while, not finding pleasure in the art like I used to. Not really feeling it. Not feeling anything except alone.

  Kaiti Oliver, though, might have changed everything.

  For both of us.

  I felt alive with her, more energized than I’d been in a long time. I needed that. Needed her.

  She’d told me a lot about herself last night, probably more than she intended and definitely more than she recalled. Knowing what I did, there was no doubt that she was a fighter and kind of my hero, if I was being totally honest.

  But was I a total ass for encouraging her to take the part because it was what I wanted, especially knowing what I did about this business and how awful it could be? The media, the execs, the other actors and actresses… It wasn’t as glamorous as people thought, and sometimes it was downright hostile.

  Would she continue to surprise me with her strength and tenacity?

  Or would they break her?

  If they did, I would be the one to blame.

  Six

  Kaiti

  Tap, tap, tap.

  I can’t sit here all day. I have to go in eventually.

  I rubbed my sweaty palms down the front of my jeans for the tenth time and wished I had a paper sack to breathe into since I was feeling kind of woozy.

  Instead of my usual spot in the parking lot of the boring factory, I was in some guarded parking garage miles away freaking the hell out because all of this was so unlike me.

  I’d even lied to my boss to get the time off I needed to make my mind up about this acting thing. I’d accumulated a ton of vacation time and cashed it all in for the ‘family emergency’ I’d fabricated when I called my supervisor. I didn’t give particulars and—to my immense relief—he didn’t ask for any. I was almost offended that his only comment was, “I’ll just send Stanley to cover your machines. Easy fix.” I was easy to replace and clearly not going to be missed.

  That stung a little.

  Of course, if I accepted the job on Savages, I’d have to tell the truth. It wasn’t like they wouldn’t see me on TV. But, until I made up my mind I needed to retain the position. Not to mention the fact that I doubted Bryce would still want me as Meadow after he saw me on an actual set and realized how clueless I was. I’d get laughed right out of the building.

  Why did Evie have to be on a cruise for so long? I needed to vent, to vocalize all of this to someone who knew me well enough to know how hard this was going to be; and how far out of my comfort zone I had already ventured. And an email just wasn’t the way to do it, not that I’d heard from her yet anyway.

  Tap, tap, tap.

  Stupid freaking international calling rates.

  Just wait until she gets an earful of this shit.

  Why does it feel like all the air was sucked out of this car?

  I can’t breathe, dammit.

  I adjusted the vents and set the temperature as low as it would go, closing my eyes in bliss as my face was bathed in the cool air.

  The parking garage—where I was stalling—was attached to an older high-rise. The building was where the majority of Savages episodes were shot. I’d been stopped by security before entering, where I only marginally embarrassed myself by stuttering my own name to the stern-faced guard. Once he double checked my
ID, he was a bit friendlier, telling me which level was reserved for the lead actors—which apparently included me. He also gave me specific instructions on where to go once inside, thank goodness. I’d been sincerely worried I’d end up wandering around like an idiot.

  Of course, if I never managed to muster up enough courage to get out of my car, none of it really mattered.

  I dried my palms again and took a long, deep breath, letting it out slowly through my mouth.

  My head was still swimming.

  Tap, tap, tap.

  I shouldn’t be so freaked out. I’d spent the last thirty-six hours memorizing every word, every nuance of the script Bryce had emailed on Saturday afternoon. I knew the words, I knew the movements and the tone. Now I just had to go in there and do it.

  My mind flashed to the last two nights and the horrible nightmares that had plagued what little sleep I’d managed to get. I’d awakened each morning shaky and pissed off that I was shaky. I didn’t expect to coast through this, of course, but I was hoping to feel more in control of things than I did sitting there in that stupid parking garage.

  Tap, tap, tap.

  Deep breaths, Kaiti.

  A soft knock on my passenger side window made me squeak and jump.

  Gavin’s gorgeous half-smile greeted me through the glass.

  I hit the button to unlock my doors, clutched my hands together in my lap, and hoped he hadn’t seen me doing my finger exercises. How embarrassing.

  As he climbed in, the only thing I was aware of—aside from my galloping ‘just got the shit scared out of me’ heartbeat—was how easy his smile was. He was totally relaxed and looked well-rested. The exact opposite of everything I was feeling at the moment. But then, today was business as usual for him. It was me who was right in the middle of a life-altering moment.

  “Good morning, Kaiti-fucking-Oliver,” he said by way of greeting.

  “Right back at ya, Gavin-fucking-Lane.” I couldn’t help smiling at how comfortable we were teasing each other, and how much the mere sight of him unwound the tension in my shoulders.

  After he’d left on Saturday, I hadn’t expected to hear from him again until today, but he’d checked in Sunday to be sure I was doing okay and offered advice on how to prepare for my big day. It was his encouraging messages that had gotten me this far. Now that I was stalled out—and freaking out—his timing couldn’t have been better. Just sitting there with him was helping.

  He looked through the windshield, toward the elevator on the far side of the garage, the one I knew took us down to the lobby where everyone was gathering this morning. “You ready for this?”

  I groaned and sipped coffee from my This is Probably Booze engraved travel mug. “I’m not sure I’m ready for anything at four in the morning, but here I am.”

  He chuckled and nodded. “Mondays are brutal. There have to be a certain number of hours between shoots, and since we usually take twelve hours or more to finish up a single day, that means we end up having to start each day of the week slightly later than the last. Usually by Friday, we start at an almost normal hour, which means Fridays tend to run into the early morning hours of Saturday.” He blew out a breath, eyeing my coffee. “You’ll be practically mainlining that shit before you know it.”

  “Gee, you make it all sound like so much fun.” I gestured toward his door. “Now get out so I can burn rubber out of this place before it’s too late.” I was only half joking and I was pretty sure he knew it.

  He dropped his hand to cover mine. “No way. We’ve got you now.” His voice was deep and menacing, but his smile ruined the attempt at intimidation.

  I laughed softly. “So, if you usually shoot late on Fridays, how is it that you had time to come badger me on a Friday?”

  “We were a few weeks ahead of schedule, thank goodness, and we’d actually stalled on shooting some scenes because Bryce refused to use anyone else but you as Meadow.”

  “He’s a stubborn man, isn’t he?”

  He patted my hand and reached for the door handle. “You have no idea. But you’re about to see for yourself. It’s time to head in.”

  I forced myself to get out and stood on wobbly legs, looking at Gavin across the roof of the car. “Did you just happen to see me as you were walking in or were you looking for me?”

  He flashed that blindingly beautiful smile of his and shrugged. “I thought you might feel more comfortable having a friend walk in with you on your first day.”

  “You’re really sweet, has anyone ever told you that?” I walked around the front of the car to join him.

  “Only if it said so in their script.” He offered me his arm and I gratefully took it, trying hard not to let him see me tremble.

  Shaking hands and wobbly legs notwithstanding, I was determined to go through with this, even if what I really wanted to do was run home and hide under the covers with a quart of rum raisin.

  Or just rum.

  Nope. It’s time to quit running.

  I was done letting fear hold me back.

  And with Gavin’s warm biceps under my hand, and his words of encouragement still replaying in my mind, I felt for the first time in a long time that I’d not only make it through… I was going to fucking kill it.

  I’m gonna puke.

  All these famous faces…and they’re watching me; sizing me up and checking me out.

  I had a death grip on Gavin’s arm as he marched us right up to the cluster of Emmy, Tony, and Oscar winners like it was the most natural thing in the world.

  “Hey, guys. Meet Kaiti, our new recruit. She’s playing Meadow.”

  I was strangling the circulation right out of his lower arm, but he didn’t seem to notice or care. He put his hand over mine and turned to finish the intros. I already knew who they all were, but I decided standing there mute was better than speaking up.

  “Kaiti, this is Skylar Banks who plays Tia Savage, my on-screen sister and off-screen pain in my ass.”

  Skylar was leggy, blonde, and stunningly beautiful. She ignored him and offered me her hand. Her gaze tracked over me and something about her too-nice expression rang false. It was something about her eyes. “Nice to meet you, Kaiti. You’ll fit right in as long as you remember one thing above all else…Gavin is full of shit.”

  He flipped her off like a real-life brother would, but his expression was off too, like maybe he meant the ‘fuck you’ more than his playful demeanor might indicate. “Bite me.” He turned to the others and nodded to each as he spoke. “Michael Mills here plays Warren, partner number three and all around bad guy.”

  Michael was dark-haired with blue eyes that were much lighter than Skylar’s; icy to her cornflower. He was slightly taller than Gavin—maybe six-three to Gavin’s six-one—and had a ghost of a scar running down from his cheekbone to his mouth, bisecting his lip in a sixty-forty split. I knew from the show that he had it but it was much more pronounced on screen.

  Gavin continued, “Jenna Noble plays Layla—aka partner number four—who we all know has a thing for Tyler, even if she did throw in with the bad guy over there once or twice.”

  Jenna was small, petite with auburn hair and wide, honey-colored eyes that made her look much younger than her actual age. She reminded me of a pixie.

  “And this guy,” he said, pointing his middle finger at the only one I didn’t recognize, “is Joey. He’s the casting director, but that’s not the only hat he wears around here, is it Joey?” The stocky, blond man with the nice build and nicer smile flipped him off in return.

  “He spends a lot of time in a dunce cap, if that’s what you mean.” This from Michael, who caught me looking at his scar and gave a crooked smile, which made the jagged line deepen. “They add makeup to it. Underscores my role as a villain. Like Scar from The Lion King, only, you know, hotter.” He grinned.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to stare.”

  He shrugged it off. “No worries. It happens more than you’d think.”

  “Don’t let him fool you, he li
kes the looks,” Jenna cut in, then smirked when he tried to deny it. “Oh, please. I’ve seen you flicking your tongue at the extras. You wait for them to focus on your mouth then you start with the crude gestures. And you totally get off on how many of them chase you after that.”

  Skylar leaned close to my side and whispered, “Scar from The Lion King would have been a villain either way. The same can be said of some people I know.” She tipped her head at Michael, who was still chatting animatedly with Jenna. “Something to keep in mind.”

  Something about her comment made me think it was a case of the pot calling the kettle black, but I just smiled gratefully, like I appreciated the heads up. Her warning told me far more about her than Michael, though.

  Gavin cut her a look. “Excuse us. I’m gonna give Kaiti the tour before this morning’s table read.” He turned to me. “I’m sure wardrobe will want your measurements ASAP, so we’ll head there first.”

  Skylar hadn’t been invited but clearly couldn’t take a hint. She simply waved a hand toward the long hall to our right. “Sounds good to me, bro. Lead the way.” She was all smiles, ignoring the dirty look Gavin gave her.

  Why did I suddenly feel like the show had already started, and I was the only one who didn’t get a script?

  “Marion,” Skylar announced as she darted around us and into the wardrobe room. “We’ve got a new doll for you.”

  Marion looked up from where she was crouched on the floor, hemming a skirt that hung from a tailor’s bust. She was a short, round woman with rimless glasses and kind eyes. “I do love a good game of dress up.” She smiled and stood, tucking the needle she’d been using into a decidedly uncomfortable spot on the bust—right in the boob.

  My breasts ached in sympathy, and I barely kept from crossing my arms over them.

  Gavin stepped forward, tugging me along with him. “Marion, meet Kaiti. She’s joining the cast as Meadow.”

  She stuck her hand out to me absently as her gaze traveled the length of my body, literally sizing me up. “Nice to meet you, honey.”