Role Play (Silhouette Studios)

by Katana Collins

  “I’ll have other opportunities at Silhouette,” I said. “I know a guy.”

  His mouth twitched with my joke, barely edging into a smile. “You’ll have so many opportunities… because of your talent. Not because of your uncle. But even still, we need you on set. Kelly needs you on set. You should see the way she’s been running around like a crazy woman, trying to do it all herself.”

  I cringed. I’d been afraid of that—that I was leaving her with the entire work load, and right before we were supposed to go on location. “I’ll come back tomorrow. But Ash… you can’t…” Can’t what? Smile at me? Look at me? Talk to me? I wanted to say all of those things, but they were ridiculous. “You can’t treat me any differently. It has to remain entirely professional. Deal?”

  “Deal,” he said, nodding. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  I’d been back to work for almost a week. The bad news was that I now had to work alongside my ex-lover. The good news was that Andrea started working on set with us two to three days a week.

  Anytime Ash would catch my eye from across the studio, Andrea would intercept. Remind me to keep my head down, do my job, and ignore the gaping hole in my heart.

  Andrea, Kelly, Miguel and I were at craft services and I had just finished devouring a cheeseburger when Andrea jumped to her feet, grabbing one of my last fries. “I’ve got to run. Have to finish hemming Jude’s pants.”

  “I’m off too,” Miguel said, waving and giving me a wink.

  With that, they dashed out of the cafeteria, leaving Kelly and I sitting there across from each other. She sent me a weak smile. “You okay?”

  I shrugged, swirling my fry into some ketchup. “I’ll survive.” I always do.

  “Break up?’

  My gaze jerked to hers, wide. How the hell did she know?

  She gave me a half smile. “I know that hollow look,” she said quietly. “Hell, I’ve lived that hollow look. I can’t seem to go out more than once or twice before I’m getting dumped by every man I date.”

  My jaw dropped. Who in their right mind would dump Kelly? Sure, she’s intense. And driven. And a bit strong-willed… a few weeks ago, I would have called her a bitch. But now? I saw her for who she was. She had to be this way, even if the rumors were true about her dad working at HBO. She was shouldering her way into a male dominated industry in the only way she knew how. She was smart and talented and ambitious and… I’d come to admire the hell out of her.

  “Well, they’re all idiots,” I said, dropping my uneaten fry back onto the plate.

  A smile flicked at the corner of her mouth. “Your guy, too. You’re a catch Lucy Rodriguez.” She hesitated, spearing a bite of romaine lettuce. “He works here, right?” she pressed. I nodded, not trusting myself to speak as I glanced up and across the room where Ash was sitting with Neil, Jude, and Marlena eating lunch. “You’ll let me know if he… if he’s making your job uncomfortable in any way? We could go to Mr. Blair together if he—”

  “I’m fine, Kelly.” I shook my head, cutting her off. She stood, taking her tray, and I followed, walking behind her to deposit our empties in the bin. Across the room, Ash and his friends stood as well, and the three men got back in line to grab dessert, only ten feet away from where we stood.

  “But you’ll let me know if he does?” Again, I nodded, but the motion felt hurried, disingenuous.

  Kelly linked her arm in mine and tugged me toward the dessert table, too. “Come on,” she said, “let’s split dessert. I heard they’ve got tiramisu today.”

  “Split dessert?” I scoffed. “It’s like you don’t know me at all. If I’m getting tiramisu, I’m not splitting shit.”

  Kelly snickered. “Oh, fine,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I’ll get my own. But if I don’t fit into my gown for the Academy Awards, it’s your fault for not sharing with me.”

  “Oh my God. We aren’t even finished filming yet and you already have your Oscars dress? Woman, you’re crazy. For that, I’m going to eat two tiramisu!”

  Behind us, a few of the featured extras were in line as well. I heard their snickers, and then a breathy voice gave a faux whisper that could practically be heard around the whole craft services area. “With an ass that size, I wonder if there’ll be any dessert left by the time we get there.”

  I froze, my muscles stiffened and my heart lurching into my throat. I knew I shouldn’t have, but I couldn’t resist peeking at her as I slid my eyes to the left. She was tall, willowy, with voluminous light brown hair that framed her face in soft, mermaid curls. As she and her other friends giggled, her lip curled back over a set of blindingly white teeth.

  “The fuck did you just say to her?” Kelly spun around gracefully on the balls of her spiked patent leather heels.

  “Kelly,” I whispered, tugging her arm. “Ignore them. I’m used to it and it doesn’t bother me—”

  “Apologize to her,” A deep voice rumbled from behind me.

  Oh, fuck. No, no, no, no…

  The girl’s voice cracked and her eyes went wide, staring at Ash. “M-Mr. Livingston, I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

  “Don’t apologize to me,” he snapped. “Apologize to Lucy.”

  The apples of her cheeks flushed bright red and she licked her lips nervously. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, and her gaze dipped to the ground. Whether it was a false act of contrition or heartfelt, I didn’t know or care. I just wanted this scene to be over. People around us were staring, and with Ash’s booming voice and strong presence, we were only going to gain more attention the longer we stood there.

  “This is the fucking reason that I’m losing actors left and right. The reason that women have unrealistic weight goals and wait in line at the bathrooms to stick their fucking fingers down their throats,” Ash snapped. His blue eyes were bright and could have cut through glass with the sharp glare he was sending her. “The reason that women around the country—the world even—deprive themselves, starve themselves, and can’t even enjoy a small pleasure in life with their meals—and all because of what? Because they’re terrified of what a fucking scale says? Because they’re worried that some asshole will comment on their beautiful curves?”

  It was clear he was no longer talking about me. Or at least not just me. Whatever this was about, it went deeper than my issues with food. This was about Ash. And probably Brie. And even though I rationally knew that he was in more pain than I was, it still stung a little. That even him standing up for me wasn’t for me.

  “Get your shit and get off my set. You’re fired. And if I hear anyone else body shaming anyone on one of my sets, you will be fired too!” He shouted, dropping the plate of tiramisu back onto the table. With a quick glance at me, his mouth twitched further into a frown.

  “Ash,” I hissed a warning, but he held up a hand in my face.

  “Don’t,” he snapped. “I would have fucking said that for anyone on my set. Not just you.” With that, he stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

  I stood there, my hand gripping the plate. I was afraid to let it go, to set it down for fear that my hands would tremble uncontrollably. Had he seriously just done that? He might as well have put a giant banner over my head with lights blinking, stating that we had fucked.

  When I dared to look up at Kelly, I was met with her soft, blue eyes, a shade lighter than Ash’s and far kinder than I’d expected her to be. “Oh, Lucy,” she whispered, and took the plate of tiramisu out of my hands for me. “It’s Ash,” she said. “Ash was your contract boy, wasn’t he?”

  I couldn’t do this. I thought maybe, maybe if he could remain professional we could have worked together. But it was so clear now that Ash was incapable of keeping things professional. That should have been evident from the first time we kissed on set as stand-ins. Hell, nothing in his behavior had been professional or responsible. Uncle Rich was right. I swallowed hard, suddenly not in the mood to have dessert. “I… I have to go talk to Rich—Mr. Blair,” I said, walking past her toward the door.

&
nbsp; She grabbed my elbow gently, stopping me just as I moved beyond her shoulder. “Lucy, wait. Don’t do anything rash.”

  I almost cracked a laugh, but I wasn’t feeling all that funny. I didn’t answer her… because I couldn’t lie. Not to Kelly, who surprisingly ended up being not only a fantastic boss, but a great friend. I just shook my head, saying nothing, and tugged my arm free of her gentle hold before exiting and marching into Uncle Rich’s office.

  He started as I walked in, looking up at me from behind his desk where he was reviewing some footage. “Lucy,” he said, taking in my face. “What’s wrong?” he asked, softer.

  Nothing. Everything. I swallowed the grapefruit sized lump lodged in my throat and ignored the burning tears threatening my eyes. “I need to be transferred to a different movie,” I said quietly. “I don’t… I don’t think I can work with Ash anymore,” I admitted. I’d suspected it would be hard. But after that in the cafeteria? He and I couldn’t have a normal working relationship. Not right now. Not this close to what had happened.

  Uncle Richard’s gaze darkened. “What the fuck did he do?”

  I shook my head. “Nothing.” And it was the truth. He hadn’t done anything that was truly wrong or bad. If it had been anyone else in the craft services line that had stood up for me, I would have been fine. Maybe even happy.

  But it wasn’t just anyone. It was the one man I wanted desperately to trust. And to trust me in return.

  “I’ll fire him before I fire you,” Rich said. And he meant it. I knew he did.

  “No,” I said quickly. “Neither of us is getting fired. Just transfer me onto a different film. I’ll do anything.”

  Rich sighed and pulled out his schedule. “I don’t have any openings on the films currently happening,” he said, examining the calendar. “But after we wrap here, Kelly is starting a new rom-com we’re producing. She requested you for her team as her Associate designer.”

  Those damn tears were back. Maybe they never left. “She did? Ash isn’t directing it, is he?”

  “He’s not.” Rich shook his head no. “But it’s three months away. Doesn’t start filming until next season.”

  I sighed. Three months. I had bills to pay. I couldn’t wait three months for a paying gig. “Okay,” I said quietly. “I’ll take it.”

  He quirked a brow at me. “And… quit for now? Lucy, you could stay on. I’ll make sure you and Ash are never in the same room.”

  I snorted. That was impossible. For the first time, I truly understood why companies ban inter-office dating. Dating someone you worked with wasn’t necessarily the problem. Breaking up with someone you worked with was. “How in the hell are you going to do that?” I asked, trying to keep the bitterness out of my voice. “He’s the director of the film, Uncle Rich. And whether or not either of us is mad at him, he’s brilliant.”

  “Only after he met you did he become brilliant on this film,” Uncle Rich said.

  I shrugged. Maybe that was true. Maybe not. Either way, it didn’t matter. Ash had a contract. And a long relationship with Silhouette Studios.

  Rich stood up from behind his desk and walked around to face me. His hands were heavy as they fell to my shoulders, squeezing me gently. “Tell me what happened, baby bear.”

  “I just… it hurts too much to see him every day.” I filled Uncle Rich in on what just happened at craft services.

  After I finished the story, Rich’s brows jumped. “Well, that doesn’t sound bad. It’s almost… noble. Like he was trying to protect you, even if it was misguided.”

  I sniffled and Rich handed me a tissue from his desk. “It’s not about what happened.” What happened at craft services was simply the straw that broke the camel’s back. It wasn’t anything major or anything that was devastating. “But it just shows how neither of us is able to let the other go. And seeing each other daily, several times daily, is only going to make it that much harder to move on. I thought I could handle it—and I think I can in the future. But right now, it’s still too raw. Maybe these three months away from the studios will help. Give us the distance we need to be able to work together in the future.”

  Rich nodded like he understood, even though I doubted he did. “So what will you do for three months?”

  Damn. Good question. I had no clue. “I guess I’ll go back to waitressing…”

  Rich shook his head. “I have a friend. You know him, Erik Larson. He’s looking for a nanny for his three-year-old. It’s just for a few months until she enrolls in preschool.”

  “I remember Erik,” I said. “I ran into him a few weeks ago—” I cut myself off from saying at LnS to Uncle Rich. Being a nanny for a few months? That could be fun. Hard work, sure, but fun. And I already knew his daughter from a few babysitting jobs in college.

  “He had asked a few of his friends for references. He’s willing to pay well. More than you’d likely get waitressing. But in a worst case scenario, you could do both. Waitress at night and nanny during the day. Would you like me to set you up an interview?”

  I breathed a sigh of relief and nodded. “Thank you.”

  “I still think we could make it work for you here,” Uncle Rich said. “But I understand. Can you stay on until next week? Give me some time to find another assistant for Kelly?”

  “Of course. I wouldn’t just leave you empty-handed.” Or Kelly for that matter. She’d been good to me and she deserved better.

  “And you’ll always have a job here when you want one.”

  I knew that too. But it still meant the world to hear him say it.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Ash

  The week after Lucy and I ended was nothing but California sunshine. I would have given my left nut to have some rain. Gray skies. Maybe even some thunder to match my shitty, gloomy mood.

  What the hell was a grumpy fuck like me doing living in Los Angeles anyway? I should live in Seattle. Or Siberia.

  I went about my days filming as usual, but inside? I was an empty vessel. Broken. I could have fought for her. I knew it. I could have opened up, spilling my guts, told her everything about Brie. I could have won Lucy back.

  But she deserved better. She deserved a man who didn’t have to slice open a festering wound just to talk about his past. She deserved a man who could have sex in his own fucking bed without feeling gut-blowing guilt the next morning. She deserved a man who would eventually be able to kneel down on one knee and put a ring on her finger. A man who could give her children without seeing ghosts of the child he never got with another woman. Another wife.

  She needed a man who could love her wholly without guilt.

  That man wasn’t me.

  But fuck, I wish it could be. Because I could have loved her.

  My time on set was busier than usual. Not that I minded busy. I thrived on busy. But because of that, Lucy sightings had been growing scarcer the last couple weeks. Occasionally, I’d see her on set. But lately, if I wanted a glance at her glossy brown eyes or glowing smile, I had to find a reason to wander down to the costume department. And in the last five days, more often than not Kelly or Andrea intercepted me before I ever reached the offices.

  On Friday, I found myself with more time to spare than I’d had in weeks and without even realizing it, I was halfway down the hall toward wardrobe. I paused just outside the door.

  What was my excuse for popping in today? Wanting to check the progress of Marlena’s evening gown? Or maybe that Helene sent me to make sure the costumes didn’t clash with the set dressings. Or to check if the costumes were going to be shipped or ride with us on location.

  Fuck me. Why did I keep doing this to myself? To her? She’d made it clear—I had betrayed her. And she was right. I knew what I was doing when I opened that Google search… even if Andrea had told me to do it. And I couldn’t share myself with her in the way she needed or wanted me to. It was too painful. Too fucking vulnerable and I just didn’t have it in me anymore.

  But I wish I did. Because fuck, I missed
her.

  I took a deep breath and entered into the costume room. Immediately, it felt different in a way I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Andrea was on her knees, putting straight pins into the hem of a dress. Kelly was standing a few feet back, photographing the dress and taking notes. And in the corner was a new face. A young man folding laundry out of the cart.

  “Who’s this?” I blurted out. And where the hell is Lucy? I wanted to ask.

  Andrea glared at me from where she knelt and her lips disappeared into a thinning line.

  “This is my new design assistant,” Kelly said, her voice strangely tight and withdrawn.

  “New design assistant?” I repeated. Why the hell did they need a new design assistant? Unless…

  “Yes,” Andrea hissed. “Because you had to go and open your big mouth in front of everyone in the middle of craft services.” I swear if she could have justified jabbing me in the calf with one of those pins, she would have.

  I blinked, my face growing hot. “Did she get fired because of that?” Because if that was the case, I’d run into Richard’s office right now and quit myself.

  “No dumbass,” Andrea snapped. “She quit.”

  Her words socked me in the gut, stealing my oxygen. She quit? Somehow that felt even worse. It was precisely what I promised her wouldn’t happen. I had assured her that no matter what, our relationship or non-relationship wouldn’t affect her employment.

  I closed my eyes briefly, shaking my head. “We have to get her back,” I said. “There must be something I could do.”

  “Oh, I know exactly what you could do. You can take your little platitudes and shove them up your—”

  “Okay,” Kelly sighed and touched her fingertips to Andrea’s shoulder. “Andrea, could you show Micah where we put scrap fabrics?” Kelly asked.

  Andrea rolled her eyes as she pushed off the floor to her feet. “Fine. C’mon, Micah.” But before exiting the room, she paused in front of me, narrowing her eyes.