Departure from the Script

by Jae

Cheers and shouts rose around Amanda as a handful of A-list actors joined the picket lines.

  “Uh, obviously you’re not using your day off to sleep in,” Michelle said. “Where are you?”

  “In front of the biggest studio in Hollywood.”

  “You’re supporting the strike?” Michelle sounded surprised. “Excuse me for saying so, but I would have thought since you joined the cast of Central Precinct, you make a more than reasonable living.”

  Amanda certainly had no reason for complaints in that area, and frankly, she wasn’t too happy about the strike holding up their spring season, but she wanted to show her solidarity with her less fortunate colleagues. “I do,” she said. “But I haven’t forgotten what it’s like to live hand to mouth, like most actors.”

  Michelle was silent for a moment. “That’s a great thing you’re doing.”

  Amanda shrugged. “Nothing much. But if we keep this up, I hope the big studios will listen.”

  “Want some support? I could come over, wave a few signs around, or take photos if it’s needed.”

  Holding back an immediate “yes,” Amanda asked instead, “Don’t you have to work?”

  “I do, but… Well, I could go on strike too.”

  “Uh, you work for yourself.”

  “Yeah, what can I say? The boss is a tyrant.”

  Amanda laughed. “I don’t believe that for a second. She’s a real teddy bear.”

  “Teddy bear?” Michelle growled. “Don’t let that get around, or you’ll ruin my reputation.”

  “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.”

  They were both silent for a moment before Michelle asked, “So, how about it? Should I go on strike too?”

  “You don’t have to do that. Basically, we’re just standing around, gossiping about the latest Hollywood rumors. You’d just get bored.”

  “Not as long as you’re there,” Michelle said.

  Again, her openness made Amanda speechless.

  “Okay, if you don’t want me to join you, how about going out on a da—uh, I mean, doing a little rehearsal with me later?” Michelle asked after a few seconds of silence. “Or would that be considered breaking the picket lines?”

  Amanda smiled. “No, I’m sure a little rehearsal would be fine.”

  “Great. Then how about I pick you up at seven and we go to that Mexican restaurant we went to last time?”

  “Uh…” Amanda didn’t want to risk having that same impolite waiter again. “Seven is fine, but how about that little Italian restaurant on Hillhurst Avenue instead?”

  “That’s good too. I look forward to it.”

  “Me too.”

  “Hey, Amanda,” Lorena called from a few yards away. “Stop flirting with your boyfriend and start holding up that sign!”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Hold your horses.” To Michelle, she said, “I have to go. The Hollywood diva next to me is getting impatient.”

  “I heard that!” Lorena shouted.

  Amanda laughed. During the last few weeks, she had gotten friendly with most of her co-stars, especially Lorena.

  “Until later,” Michelle said. “Have fun gossiping.”

  “Will do.” Smiling in anticipation, Amanda ended the call and picked up the sign.

  “Uh, I’m sure the restaurant will have something to drink available,” Michelle said when Amanda climbed into the passenger seat of the SUV, balancing a tray of plastic cups.

  Amanda chuckled. “It’s not for me. Do you mind if we take a bit of a detour? I wanted to deliver this earlier, but I was running late.”

  “No problem.” Michelle closed the door for Amanda and got in on the driver’s side. “So, where to, milady?”

  Amanda gave her the address.

  “Oh, you want to look in on your grandmother?”

  “Not just her. The neighbors too. The juice is for them.”

  Michelle arched one eyebrow. She looked away from the street to throw a quick glance at the transparent cups. “You’re delivering juice to your grandmother’s neighbors?”

  “They’re a couple of nice elderly ladies she plays bridge with every Tuesday,” Amanda said and then realized that didn’t explain anything. “When I started working at the juice bar, I got into the habit of bringing them some juice every time I visited my grandmother.”

  “But you don’t work there anymore.”

  Amanda shrugged. “They don’t know that.” And she wasn’t about to tell them. She had even sworn her grandmother to secrecy.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “They don’t have much money, but they’re too proud to accept a little charity. I want them to have some vitamins, so I’m letting them think I get the juice for free because I work at the juice bar.”

  “Oh, wow. That’s sneaky. And very nice of you.”

  Amanda doffed an imaginary hat. “I got it from my grandmother.”

  “What? Being sneaky or being nice?”

  Stealing Michelle’s signature gesture, Amanda winked at her. “Both.”

  “So,” Amanda said when they lingered over desserts. “Tell me a little about your ex, the actress.”

  Michelle scooped whipped cream onto her spoon. “Which one?”

  “Oh, right, you said there were two.”

  “Yes. Though one was a stage actress.”

  Amanda licked a crumb of cheesecake off her fork. “And the other one?”

  “Mostly small roles in TV movies, but she thought she was the next Jodie Foster, Angelina Jolie, and Marilyn Monroe all rolled into one.”

  That didn’t sound like anyone the down-to-earth Michelle would keep company with, much less be involved with romantically. “How did you meet?”

  Michelle pushed back her homemade Italian ice cream as if she’d lost her appetite. “That was during my short stint as a paparazza.”

  Amanda couldn’t help staring. “You were a paparazza?” She couldn’t imagine the gentle, honest Michelle as one of the celebrity-chasing press sharks.

  “Just for a few weeks. I’m not proud of it, but I was struggling to get my studio off the ground and…”

  Amanda reached across the table and covered Michelle’s hand with her own. “I understand.”

  Michelle looked up. “Do you?”

  “You wouldn’t believe some of the jobs I did to support myself while I auditioned for bit roles and commercials.”

  “Oh, yeah?”

  “Yeah. But we’re not talking about my embarrassing time as a nude model for an art class. We were talking about your ex.”

  Michelle’s gaze went hazy. “Uh, you do know that photographers have excellent visual imagination, don’t you? And you just gave mine one hell of a workout.”

  Amanda ignored the comment and her own blush. “Your ex,” she reminded.

  “Right. Well, not much to tell. I was young and stupid, just looking for a beautiful face and a hot body instead of the things that really count, so I asked her out—and she said yes. We were together for eleven turbulent months; then I found out she was cheating on me while she was on location.” Michelle grimaced. “When I confronted her, all she had to say was that whatever happened on location didn’t mean a thing. It was an actor thing that I, as a mere mortal, just couldn’t understand.”

  Amanda knew some actors who thought like that. Hell, it turned out that a few of her exes had shared that kind of attitude, but Amanda had never understood it. Suddenly, making sure Michelle didn’t lump her in with that sort of actress was important to her. “Bullshit.”

  A grin spread over Michelle’s face. “Bullshit?”

  “Yeah, that’s complete and utter bullshit. I’m not saying I’m much better than your ex at relationships, but—”

  “Really? So far, I don’t have any complaints.” Michelle took Amanda’s free hand and kissed it.

  Did Michelle really classify what they had as a relationship already? Oh, and you don’t? If she was honest with herself, she hadn’t even looked at other women since Valentine’s Day.
She cleared her throat. “Wait until I forget your birthday because I’m busy trying to land a role. Or call you by the name of the love interest in the movie I’m auditioning for.”

  “Ouch. You did all that in a past relationship?”

  Amanda pressed her lips together and nodded. “Yes. I never, ever cheated on anyone, but otherwise, I sure don’t deserve an award for girlfriend of the year.” Fiddling with her fork, she glanced across the table at Michelle and gathered the courage to ask what had been on her mind a lot in the past weeks. “So I don’t get why you’re so intent on dating me, especially since you swore to never get involved with another actress. What made you give up that resolution? I’m sure it wasn’t my charming, hungover self on the morning after we first met.” God, she’d been such an ungrateful, judgmental bitch.

  Michelle smiled. “Yeah, I have to admit you certainly came across like the high-maintenance diva type. A hot diva type, but still. I didn’t know whether to be amused or insulted at your assumptions about butches.”

  Amanda pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m so sorry. I feel stupid about it now, but I just… I don’t know. Maybe I am a high-maintenance diva after all. I guess I’ve been in the business for too long, surrounded by all the Hollywood standards of how a woman should look and behave. It’s not an excuse, but…”

  “It’s okay. Water under the bridge,” Michelle said, sounding as if she meant it.

  Amanda sent her a grateful smile. “What made you want to date me anyway? Is it because I look like my grandmother? I know you had a crush on her when you were a little girl, and they say that the first crush is the deepest, so—”

  Michelle reached across the table and stopped her rambling with a soft touch to her lips. “I admit when I first saw you, it was your resemblance to Josephine that caught my attention, but that alone wouldn’t have made me give up my resolution to stay the hell away from actresses.”

  Amanda had no reason not to believe her. So far, Michelle had always been honest and up-front with her. “What was it, then?”

  “Your grandmother.” She held up a hand before Amanda could interrupt. “Not the way you think. When we watched that movie, Spur of the Moment, and whenever you talked about her, I could tell how much she means to you. We have that in common. Our love for our grandparents, I mean. That’s what made me take a second look at you.”

  “And you liked what you saw?” It was still hard for Amanda to believe when she thought about that morning after Valentine’s Day.

  “Oh, yeah. That first morning, you were so confused and mortally embarrassed about waking up in my bed. I could tell you’re not a partying starlet who drinks too much and falls into bed with some stranger on a regular basis.”

  Amanda shook her head. “I have never done that in my life.”

  “I liked that. I like that you’re not a typical actress. My exes, Elizabeth and Jessica, couldn’t read the newspaper without throwing a temper tantrum if they weren’t in it. They wanted to go to every party and hang out with the cool people. You, however, read the newspaper for the news and the crossword puzzle, hang out with your grandmother, rescue cats that make you get fired, go on strike to support your colleagues, and buy juice for elderly people.” Michelle looked at her with a tender smile. “Right from the start, you didn’t fit my image of an actress at all. A photographer is supposed to see beneath the surface and look at what’s really there, and I realized I hadn’t been doing that. I was stereotyping based on my limited experiences with two actresses, convincing myself that I needed to stay away because all actresses are like that.”

  So, basically, they were both guilty of the same thing—stereotyping. But Amanda had to admit that it had taken her a bit longer to give up her preconceived notions about butch women. She shook her head at herself. “We’re a fine pair, aren’t we?”

  A soft smile curved Michelle’s lips. “I happen to think so, yes.”

  “Amanda?” Someone stopped next to their table. “Hi. I thought that was you.”

  Amanda felt herself blanch. Damn. Speaking of exes… “Hello, Lizzy,” she said, not even trying to fake a friendly smile. “What do you want? Did you get bored with your co-producer already?”

  Lizzy clutched her chest. “No reason to be that way. I just came over to congratulate you on your new role. You look good on TV. Although…” She leaned closer. “Whenever they do close-ups, you can see a few wrinkles here and here and especially here.” She touched Amanda’s forehead, cheek, and the corner of her eye.

  The touch made Amanda shiver, and it wasn’t in a pleasant way. Barely resisting the urge to slap Lizzy’s hand away, she scooted her chair back to escape the close proximity.

  Lizzy still pretended to study her face. “You’re over thirty, dear. Maybe it’s time to get some work done. And why don’t you think about getting a boob job while you’re at it?”

  Amanda forced herself not to react and pasted on a stoic expression, not wanting to give Lizzy the satisfaction of getting a rise out of her.

  Michelle put down her spoon with a clank, drawing Lizzy’s attention toward her for the first time. “You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you? Wrinkles and getting some work done.”

  Lizzy’s eyes widened almost comically. “You…?” She stared at Michelle and then looked back and forth between her and Amanda. “Don’t tell me you two are…? I didn’t know you went for her type.” She made a face as if she’d just smelled something foul and pointed with her thumb at Michelle.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Amanda asked, not sure why she was even bothering to talk to Lizzy.

  “Oh, nothing.” Lizzy gave her a sugary-sweet grin. “Just that I thought you preferred a real woman in bed.”

  The heat of anger shot up Amanda’s neck. She jumped up, her dessert fork raised as if it were a dagger. “Enough!” Lizzy could bad-mouth her all she wanted, but Michelle was off limits. “Michelle is more of a woman than you could ever be.”

  “Oh, I know for a fact that she—”

  “Shut up!” Amanda’s ears started to buzz.

  Before she could lose control, a hand closed around her fist clutching the fork. “She’s not worth it, Amanda,” Michelle said from behind her.

  Amanda took a deep breath, startled at how strongly she had reacted. With the exception of her grandmother, she had never felt so protective of anyone in her life.

  One of the waiters hurried over. “Is everything all right, ladies?”

  Without looking away from her stare-down with Lizzy, Amanda nodded. “Everything’s fine. She was just leaving.”

  Huffing, Lizzy lifted her head up high and marched away.

  As soon as she was out of sight, Amanda sank back onto her chair and covered her face with one of her hands. Why did each of their dates—or rather their rehearsals—have to end with some kind of disaster? “I’m so sorry. Like you probably guessed, that was—”

  “Lizzy Wade, your ex.”

  Amanda looked up. “You know her?”

  Michelle plopped down onto her chair, her face unusually pale beneath her tan. “Sadly, I do. In the biblical sense. Elizabeth is my ex too.”

  “What?” The fork clattered onto her plate. “Are you serious?”

  “As a heart attack.”

  Amanda massaged her temples with both hands. “No wonder you didn’t want anything to do with actresses anymore.” She shook herself. “God, we slept with the same woman. That’s…ugh.”

  “Yeah.” Michelle grimaced. “Who knew we both go for the same type of woman?”

  “Not anymore,” Amanda muttered. “I’m changing my type.”

  The frown on Michelle’s face slowly disappeared and was replaced by a smile. “Oh? So what’s your type now?”

  “I’m favoring the honest, monogamous, butch type.”

  “Hmm.” Michelle rubbed her chin as if considering each item on Amanda’s list. “If I know a woman fitting that description, should I give her your number?”

  “No.”
<
br />   Michelle’s gaze darted to Amanda’s eyes. “No?” she asked, a hint of a tremor in her voice.

  “No,” Amanda repeated. “That won’t be necessary. She’s already got my number.”

  The smile made its way back onto Michelle’s face. “Oh, she does?” she drawled.

  The seductive purr made Amanda shiver, and this time, it was the pleasant kind. “Yes, she does.” She raised her hand to summon the waiter, who hovered nearby. “Come on. Let’s get out of here. After that woman touched me, I need a hot shower, a facial scrub, and a shot of something strong, not necessarily in that order.”

  “Can I come?” Michelle asked.

  Amanda wagged her finger at her. “For the hot shower? Nice try.”

  “I wouldn’t say no to sharing a shower with you, but I was talking about the shot of something strong.” Michelle grinned. “Because the last time you were drinking, you ended up in my bed.”

  The waiter cleared his throat next to them.

  A blush heated Amanda’s cheeks. Great. Another waiter with perfect timing. She forced a smile and peered up at him. “It’s not like it sounds.”

  “Of course not, ma’am,” the waiter said and almost kept a straight face.

  “It’s not!”

  Laughing, Michelle handed him a few bills, said, “Keep the rest,” and pulled Amanda out of the restaurant.

  Michelle found an empty spot on the street in front of Amanda’s apartment building, parked the car, and turned off the engine. “So…”

  “So,” Amanda repeated.

  “Thanks for a wonderful evening,” Michelle said.

  Amanda had enjoyed the evening too, and she didn’t want it to end. “Thank you for inviting me.”

  Silence spread through the car until Michelle said, “I’ll walk you to the door.” She got out and walked around to open the passenger-side door for Amanda.

  As she climbed out of the SUV, their bodies brushed, sending tingles through Amanda.

  Michelle turned around and pressed a button on her key to lock the car and then placed her hand in the small of Amanda’s back as they walked toward the front door.

  The heat of her palm seared through the fabric of Amanda’s blouse.