“How was everything?” Sue asked her as she passed.
“Very good thank you,” Lauren said. “Best meal I’ve had in a while.”
Sue smiled at her broadly, and Lauren started to leave the café with one last backward glance toward Harper. Harper was standing at someone else’s table now and chatting comfortably with them. Lauren paused and allowed herself to take just one last glance, to admire the way Harper looked when she laughed.
Harper must have felt Lauren’s eyes on her because she looked up at just that moment. The laugh died on her lips. They held eye contact for a moment, Lauren feeling lost in her warm brown-eyed gaze. Harper broke the stare first and returned to her conversation.
Lauren turned quickly and walked away.
“I was right, she has a huge heart,” Sue said gleefully, using her tongue to wet her thumb and then peeling off a note to give to Harper.
“Thanks. Pity she has such a chip on her shoulder to go with it,” Harper said, pocketing the money. Lauren had looked at her with such an odd expression on her face just now. Harper couldn’t believe that a person could get so bent out of shape at not being recognized.
“Oh, she’s just a little shy I think. I can’t wait ’til Josh Lawson comes in here. I bet his…tip will be enormous.” Sue gave an exaggerated wink and Harper laughed at her corny joke.
Harper didn’t know how she would survive in this job without Sue, who had become one of her closest friends since they started working together. Spending so much time with her was a distraction from the fact that this was not where Harper was supposed to be. There was nothing wrong with being a waitress, and being one here in particular was a good job, but she had been thrown off her path. Once she had been ambitious, with big goals. But since her mother’s illness, she’d had to leave her job at her uncle Stephen’s law firm in New York to look after her father and brother. It was supposed to be a short break, just until things settled down. That was two years ago.
When her mother died, the world stood still for her and yet, inexplicably, it kept moving for everyone else. It was difficult for her to wrap her mind around how she was supposed to go on. At first, it was all about just trying to get through the days. Then it became clear that her father and brother just couldn’t take care of themselves.
She never imagined that working at Joe’s would be anything other than temporary, but the days stretched out into a couple of lonely years, taken up with care for her brother and her dad, who had started drinking too much. A lot of her friends from high school moved away a long time ago and she had little in common with the ones who stayed. In truth, she had always been an outsider here, and once upon a time she couldn’t wait to get away.
The experience of seeing that movie that starred Lauren Langham belonged to a different life. Harper most likely saw it in an art house theater in the East Village, and had probably gone out with friends afterward for a drink. She had been such a different person back then. Life was a funny thing, the way a little piece of your past could come back to you in the strangest ways.
Over the next couple of days, Lauren would walk back into her mind. Harper thought that perhaps the connection that she’d made to her past had made her reflective. Although she liked to think that she didn’t care about the movie getting made in their town, she had to admit that there was something a little bit exciting about it.
Maybe there was even something a little bit exciting about her. The actress might not be the nicest person around but she was a stranger, and there were precious few of those in this town.
Chapter Three
For the next couple of weeks, Lauren spent most of her time in the cottage, relaxing and procrastinating about work. It was easy to be lazy in this town. It was hot and the pace was slow. Nobody was in a rush to do anything. Sweat made her clothes stick to her skin, so she passed the hours lying around in the air- conditioning or out on the porch, letting the breeze cool her down. She drank homemade iced tea and chewed on ice chips.
Lauren had brought a handful of films set in the South with her because she’d planned on studying them to work on her character’s accent. It wasn’t a difficult one to pull off, and she knew that she could get it right without the help of a coach. At least, she could if only she could motivate herself to spend some time on it. The movies lay unwatched on her coffee table while she read books that had nothing to do with work. Whenever she picked up the script to start learning her lines, she just wound up putting it right back down again.
For the thousandth time lately, she was entertaining the idea of quitting the whole business. The thought of it always made her excited and terrified at the same time. What kind of person would she be if there wasn’t always someone watching her? Right now it all felt meaningless, and she grieved for all of the different paths she might have taken in her life. She was only in her early thirties, but it felt too late to start a new career. There had never been anything other than acting for her; she had no experience or training in anything else.
High school had been a very difficult time for her. Her family moved around a lot, and her shyness made it even harder to make friends. Acting became an unlikely lifeline. In high school, when she was staying in upstate New York with her grandfather, an English teacher named Mr. Kelly told her that her writing was good. He said that she was capable of doing well, if she would only apply herself. That teacher also ran the drama club, so she went along one day after school when he encouraged her toward it. Drama club sparked something in her, made her feel like a part of something special. The other kids there were all misfits too, and they were kind to her. There had always been an urge within her to reveal something of herself, even when she was feeling at her most guarded, and acting gave her the space to finally do that.
Despite her shyness, she had a stubbornness that paid off when she decided to act. Countless auditions and rejections couldn’t discourage her, because she was used to feeling unwanted. There was nothing like the high she experienced when doors started to open for her.
But now that high was gone. She had made it, she was successful, and that success felt empty. She was a member of the in-crowd, yet she still felt like an outsider. There were times during her career when she had truly loved acting, but right now she couldn’t remember the last time she felt that way. It was becoming difficult for her to find roles that she was passionate about. She was spending more and more of her time making movies like Texas Twist.
Though she had doubts about Texas Twist, she eventually managed to knuckle down and get to work. It wasn’t in her nature to do a half-assed job whether she cared about the role or not. Studying the script became part of her morning routine, sandwiched between having her breakfast and taking Chester for a walk.
The day before rehearsals were due to start, there was a knock at the cottage door. Lauren jumped at the noise. Nobody had knocked on her door since she’d gotten there. She had become very used to her own company.
When she looked through the front window and saw Sal standing there, Lauren flung the door open.
“Sal, Sal, Sal. You never did learn how to use the phone did you?” she teased. She offered her cheek and Sal kissed her loudly, and then gave her a hug.
“Well, you didn’t call me back last time I tried to call you, so I called Melinda to find out where you were. I hear you’ve become quite the hermit,” he said. Sal pulled away and looked at her, inspecting her face for clues. “Everyone’s worried about you. I’ve had your team on the phone to me more than once. You’re okay, right?”
“Of course I’m okay. I’ve just been laying low for a while,” Lauren said breezily. At some point during the last week she had become very relaxed, though she hadn’t been conscious of the point where she clicked over into feeling so at ease. For the first time in a while, she felt happy and she was glad to see a familiar face to share it with.
“Well, it’s time to stop that nonsense and strap in for the ride. I think this one’s going to be my masterpiece,” Sal ann
ounced, flopping down onto her sofa and stretching out his long legs.
Sal was a huge presence in more ways than one. He looked more like an aging rock star than a director. He had long hair that he tied into a ponytail, and he always wore black jeans and 70s punk band T-shirts. You would never know to look at him that he wrote fluffy, sentimental love stories. Lauren had known him for years, since back when they had traveled in the same independent movie circles. Sal had sold out even before she had.
Lauren laughed. “This film going to be the Citizen Kane of rom-coms.”
Sal frowned. “That hurts me. Don’t insult my art. I’m a sensitive man, and this shoot is already a disaster. Lori quit. It’s a bad omen.”
Lauren shook her head. “It’s not a bad omen if it happens every five minutes and it’s your fault. What did you do to her?”
Sal pulled a face that made it clear he was never going to tell her the answer to that question. Lauren had met Lori a couple of times, but she didn’t know her well because Lori was the sixth or seventh assistant Sal had hired since Lauren had known him, mostly because he kept trying to sleep with them. Though Lauren disapproved of Sal’s behavior at times, there was an authenticity and brutal honesty about him that she appreciated. He was very good at what he did.
“What do you think of this one-horse town? The tax breaks are amazing, the scenery is perfect for what I want to do, but there sure ain’t much to do here,” Sal said. “I got here yesterday, and I think I’ve already seen everything there is to see.”
Lauren shrugged. “I don’t mind it. I like the quiet. I’m glad you decided to write me a Southern belle part if it means I get out of the city for a while.”
“Ha. I give you another week before you’re dying to get back to the museums and restaurants. You can’t live without that culture. You’re a New York snob through and through.”
Lauren frowned at him. “That’s not true. I’m actually enjoying having a few home cooked meals. I like it here. The people are nice.”
“Whatever. I’m worried that it’s changed you. What the hell do you call those pants?” Sal pointed accusingly at her gray shorts. They were sweatpants that she’d cut the ends off because they would be far too warm otherwise. They were the most comfortable thing she had ever worn.
“Get used to them, I wear them nearly every day. I have two pairs.”
“I’d better not see them on set. In fact, get them off right now and put on something presentable. I say we go down to this cute little place I found, have us a good, old-fashioned lunch date?” Sal suggested. “I found somewhere decent to eat here. It’s a diner on the main strip. Good Southern cooking.”
“You want to go to Joe’s? I guess that would be okay,” Lauren agreed, trying to sound neutral about the idea.
“How did you know where I was talking about? You mean you have actually left the house?”
“I’ve been outside once or twice you know.” Lauren threw a cushion at him and moved to get ready.
They sat in the same booth where she had eaten during her last visit. A flash of red hair at the corner of her eye caught her attention, but Lauren tried to keep her eyes on Sal. He was talking about a certain executive that he hated, and how happy he was that they were shooting out here so that he could avoid him as much as possible. Sal loved the money he got to throw around on studio films but hated actually dealing with the studio.
Lauren had thought about Harper more than once since she had first seen her. Every now and then she would picture what it would be like to run into her on the street. She had also relived their last meeting several times in her mind, imagining it going very differently. In her revisions, Lauren hadn’t been so socially awkward. Instead she had been effortlessly charming and cool in a way that she could never be in real life. Lauren thought that she had grown out of having crushes on straight women long ago, but she kept picturing those brown eyes and hearing the woman’s beautiful lilting accent. It was embarrassing how happy she was that Harper was working today.
“You should see this cute piece that works here. Oh, there she is. I’m thinking about firing you and replacing you with big red over there.” Sal pointed very indiscreetly toward Harper, and Lauren’s face flushed. “Isn’t she a knockout?”
Lauren glanced over at Harper and felt it again, that shock that came from seeing true beauty. Lauren quickly averted her eyes, intent on not making the same mistakes as she had last time.
“Jesus, Sal, do you ever think about anything else?”
“Never. Never ever,” Sal affirmed, wiggling his thick eyebrows at her.
“Hi guys. Welcome. What can I get you folks?” Harper asked, smiling and looking back and forth between them.
Sal put his hand under his chin and grinned in a way that Lauren assumed was supposed to be cute. “Folks. I should get you to come down and coach some of my actors in how to do an authentic Southern accent. You really have a lovely way of speaking, has anyone ever told you that?”
“That’s nice of you to say, but there’s really nothing unique about the way I talk around here,” Harper said, smiling and pausing expectantly with pen in hand. Something about the way she handled Sal made Lauren wonder if sleazy guys hit on her all the time.
“What do you think, Lauren? I bet your accent could do with a little work. Should we get Harper to come down to the set and show you a thing or two?”
Lauren shot him a look and shook her head slightly. She wasn’t sure if the innuendo was deliberate or not, because you could never tell with him. The thought of Harper showing her things was tempting, but she could not let her mind go any further down that path. Lauren didn’t want to think about what kind of impression she must be making on Harper. The first time they had met she could barely string a sentence together, and now she was here with a man who came across like a jerk. Lauren tried to force a smile, but she couldn’t summon up much of one. She wished she hadn’t come in here again, especially not with Sal.
“Could I have the salad please?” Lauren asked. The last thing she needed was anyone pestering her about her weight. Sal had never been shy about telling her if he thought she didn’t look good.
Sal waved his hand toward Lauren. “Oh God, you actresses. Don’t know how to eat properly. I’ll have the cheeseburger and fries please, sweetheart.” Sal ignored the glare Lauren shot across the table at him.
“No problem,” Harper said, taking their menus. Lauren accidentally brushed her fingers against Harper’s. Harper pulled her hand away quickly, but not before Lauren had noticed the long and finely shaped fingers and felt the jolt as their skin connected.
The smile fell from Harper’s face before she turned to leave. Lauren watched until Harper was safely out of earshot. “Sal, could you please try to be less of a dick?”
“Oh don’t be that way. She didn’t mind. You never answered me. Do you think she’s hot?”
“Just stop it,” Lauren said.
Although Sal was aware of her sexuality, there was no way she could feel comfortable talking about Harper like that. It was an open secret within a very small circle that she dated women, but she kept the details mainly to herself. Celia and Franklin, two of the people who had helped shepherd her career from the start, were always warning her about how coming out could damage her career. Lauren usually confined her interest to women who were in the industry. It meant that they had as much to lose from any publicity as she did. It wasn’t the ideal way to conduct a relationship, though, and most of them only lasted for a month or two.
Sighing, Harper approached the kitchen. Sue was looking at her with narrowed eyes.
“It’s not fair, why are they always sitting in your section?” Sue asked. “That guy was at the same table yesterday.”
“Sorry Sue, it’s just luck. It’ll go your way tomorrow, maybe,” Harper said.
Despite the extra money the diner was making and the tips she was earning, Harper would be happier when all these people left. Lauren made her uneasy. There was a dismissi
ve manner that made her feel small, like Lauren didn’t think she was worth even talking to or looking at. Harper wasn’t sure why the way Lauren treated her mattered so much. In a sense, Lauren’s attitude had nothing to do with her, because it wasn’t like they knew one another at all. Harper liked to think she didn’t care about the movie stuff that Sue thought was so important, but maybe she did.
The next morning, Sal came in early to buy coffee. She knew he was the director of the movie because he had bragged about it the first day he came in. Sal appeared to be the type of man who was used to charming people and always got what he wanted. The less attention Harper gave him, the more he chased after her. She had met men like him before. It was of no use telling them that she preferred women, because it only made them chase after her even more. Harper knew she had to treat Sal with a cool attitude rather than give him any ammunition at all.
When Harper handed him his change, he touched her hand for a second in a familiar way, and she pulled it away. The hand was placed firmly out of reach in the pocket of her uniform.
“No getting fresh, sir, or I’ll get you thrown out of here,” she said, half joking but seriously enough that he would know not to try it again.
“Sorry. Listen, I was thinking. Do you think you can get time off from here? I happen to be hiring right now,” he said, holding the hot cardboard cup in both hands.
Harper raised her eyebrows. Men like him really would try anything if the challenge seemed great enough. “What are you talking about? I don’t know anything at all about the movie business. Do you need someone to serve food or something?”
“Nope, I don’t want you to do craft service. You would be working for me. You seem smart, quick on your feet,” Sal said.
“You’ve learned all that from me bringing you coffee a couple of times?” she asked.
No More Pretending Page 2
