In Development

by Rachel Spangler

  Without even looking at the caller ID, she lifted it to her ear and said, “What?”

  “Wow, for someone who’s sucking face with pop stars, you sure do sound unreasonably tense.”

  Cobie snorted and sank onto the couch. “Hey, Talia.”

  “Hey yourself, kid.”

  She smiled, no longer feeling much like a kid. She tried to remember that’s exactly the way she wanted to feel, but the wistfulness in Talia’s voice took her back to a time when her youth and innocence hadn’t been a burden. “What’s up?”

  “Nothing much,” Talia said lightly. “Just came off a four-day writing bender. I ran to the store to get some toilet paper and ice cream, and while I was there, I also had to pick up about four different tabloids with photos of you sticking your tongue down Lila Wilder’s throat.”

  Cobie snorted. “I love how you buried the lead there.”

  “I love how I had to see the news on a magazine cover.”

  “It’s not what it looks like.”

  “So you didn’t kiss one of the most egregiously straight women in the world?”

  “Well . . . ”

  “Yeah,” Talia said dryly. “So it’s exactly what it looks like.”

  “Maybe, kind of, but not for the reasons it looks like.” Cobie struggled to find the words. She’d obviously been sworn to secrecy about the whole charade, but she had to talk to someone, didn’t she? And even if she wasn’t eager to unload on someone after her shitty week, she couldn’t lie to Talia. Not in a friendship sense, because Tal would see through her, and not in a business sense, either, because if anyone needed to know how far she was willing to go to get the part, it was the woman waiting on the other end of the line.

  “What reasons? She’s stunning and talented and powerful, and her legs go all the way up to her chin,” Talia said gleefully. “Not generally your type but a damn good roll in the hay.”

  “I’m so not angling for a roll in the hay,” Cobie said. “She’s a piece of work.”

  “The best ones usually are, but I know the high-profile fling isn’t your thing, thank God, so what gives?”

  “Well, there’s a book I really want to turn into a movie,” Cobie said slowly. “The writer’s brilliant, and the story is life-changing, and I want to play the main character so much I’d do anything to land the role.”

  “Uh-huh,” Talia said, and Cobie could picture her pressing her tongue to the inside of her cheek. “Go on.”

  “But the studios aren’t going to green light the project with me in the role, at least not the me they know now.”

  “Uh-huh.” Talia made the same noise, but the tone had changed to one of weariness.

  “Apparently my image isn’t consistent with the image of the character. I’m not edgy enough.”

  “Cobie, this better not be going where I think it’s going.”

  “Do you think I’m faking a relationship with Lila as a publicity stunt to help get the role I’ve always dreamed of?”

  “I’m starting to.”

  “Then you are correct.” Cobie scrunched up her face and held the phone away from her ear, waiting for the sound of Talia exploding.

  Instead she heard a sigh. “I’m sorry.”

  “What?”

  “I never could tell you no.”

  “I beg to differ,” Cobie said. “I can think of a few times when—”

  “Not when it mattered. Not when I knew it was really what you wanted.”

  Cobie’s chest ached. “I do want this, Tal.”

  “I know. And I assume you didn’t run your little plan by me first because you knew what I’d say.”

  “I didn’t have a lot of time to make a decision. Believe it or not, Lila’s personality is every bit as big as the billboards she’s constantly gracing.”

  “Oh, I believe it,” Talia said quickly. “What I don’t believe is that you’d jump on board or in bed with someone like her. It’s not you, Cobe.”

  “Maybe it needs to be, for now, for the next few months, until I can get the clout needed to get the movie made the way it deserves to be made.”

  “Doesn’t the writer get a say in how the movie deserves to be made?”

  “She does. She said she wanted it done right or she wouldn’t sign off on the project.”

  “She sounds like a real tight-ass.”

  Cobie laughed as she watched little slivers of outside light shining over her closed curtains. “She really can be, but she’s got her reasons, and I respect them.”

  “God, why do you have to act like such a fucking boi scout when I’m trying to lambast you for being a media slut?”

  “Would you rather I actually be a media slut?”

  “Sometimes, yes,” Talia said matter-of-factly.

  “Then let me do this.”

  “Oh, I don’t think there’s any ‘letting’ to it. You didn’t ask for my permission, and I haven’t heard you ask my forgiveness either. You’re a big girl, which seems to be what you’re trying to prove here, but I know you. I understand better than anyone what something like this could take out of you. If things go bad . . . ” She let her voice trail off, then finished more softly. “I just don’t want you to get hurt while making a statement I never asked you to make.”

  “You’re off the hook. You are not responsible for me and my choices.” Cobie’s voice rose in both pitch and volume. She didn’t want to get all emotional about the choices she’d made. She didn’t want to think about them too much either, but of all the people she thought she’d have to defend her motivations or capabilities to, she hadn’t worried about Talia until right now. “I’m an adult. I’m an actor. I’m every bit as dedicated to my craft as you are.”

  “Don’t get all defensive on me. I’ve never doubted your dedication or your talent. I’m just looking out for you.”

  “That’s right. You look out for me. It’s always been that way. When do I get my chance to repay you?”

  “There’s nothing to repay. You don’t owe me anything.”

  Talia seemed to believe the statement. Cobie wished she could too. “I have to do this, Tal.”

  “Not for me.”

  “For me then. I believe in what you created, and I want to be part of it.”

  “You really like Vigilant that much?”

  “Enough to make out with a beautiful woman?” Cobie laughed. “I think it’s probably a fair trade.”

  Talia joined in her laugher. “When you put things that way, is it really a burden hanging out with her?”

  Cobie thought about the answer. The publicity stunt came with plenty of burdens. She peeked around the curtains to see a line of paparazzi waiting twenty stories below. “Well, I can’t go out of my hotel room without being pelted by intrusive questions, and a small but vocal group of religious conservatives are threatening to boycott my movies for corrupting America’s sweetheart.”

  “Puh-lease, you were much more America’s sweetheart than Lila. If anyone’s being corrupted, it’s you.”

  “I’m pretty sure that’s what the lesbian community is shouting back at them all across the Internet.”

  “So in other words, it’s terrible and you hate it?” Guilt weighed heavy in Talia’s voice.

  “The trappings, yes,” Cobie admitted. “Everything that happens outside of just the two of us alone together is awful, but . . .”

  “But?”

  “The date part wasn’t terrible. I mean, it wasn’t like, you know, the best I’ve ever had.”

  “Obviously.” A hint of bravado laced Talia’s tone now.

  “But as far as business dinners go, I’ve had worse.”

  “A ringing endorsement.”

  Cobie laughed. “She’s hard to read. I haven’t made my mind up yet about her as a person, but she keeps me interested, and that’s more than I’ve had going on in a long time.”

  “At least the next few months won’t be boring,” Talia said. “You know I expect regular updates, right?”

  “Yeah,
you and everyone else. Emma hasn’t stopped texting me for days.”

  “I expect you to give me very different information than you share with your little sister. I want all the naughty bits.”

  Cobie’s stomach clenched at the sudden memory of Lila’s icy blue eyes after she’d dared to kiss her. She had no desire to crash and burn again. “I’m not sure there’ll be any naughty bits.”

  Talia chuckled knowingly.

  “What?”

  “Just call me when you get there, okay?”

  “Wait, what makes you think I’m going to get there?”

  Talia snorted. “Bye, Cobie.”

  “Bye.” Cobie disconnected the phone, sadness once again settling over her as awareness of her aches and pains returned. She wished Talia were here for real. She wished they’d talked longer. She wished she could go for a walk to clear her mind.

  Then she shook her head and forced herself to stand up. She didn’t have the time or the right to give in to self-pity. No one in the world would feel sorry for her, and she wouldn’t either. She’d meant everything she’d said to Tal. She could do whatever it took. She wanted to. She needed to.

  Chapter Three

  “Skating?” Cobie asked, looking dubious, but her eyes sparkled as Malik pulled into the parking lot at Sky Rink in Chelsea.

  “What were you expecting?” Lila asked.

  “I don’t know. Something more high-end.”

  “You thought I dressed you like that to go to the Met?”

  Cobie glanced down at the outfit, and Lila wondered if she realized how well the casual ensemble suited her. She wasn’t the kind of person who needed to be made up. The biggest part of her charm was her comfort in her own skin. It wouldn’t be hard to accentuate that quality and bend it enough so Cobie came across as confident or even cocky, but the transition needed to happen slowly to be believable, so she’d started by stripping her look down to the building blocks.

  “I thought maybe you were taking me to an Indigo Girls concert.”

  “I do love them, but no. We need something lighter and fun together. We’re still on whimsy, remember?”

  Cobie nodded. “So, skating it is.”

  “Hip, fun, entertaining, and we’ll look so very crushy on one another.”

  “But how will we keep from tripping over all the cameras?”

  “I’ve rented the rink for an hour. It’ll be fully staffed: concession stand, skate rental, DJ, and a few attendants.”

  “And you made sure the press knows we’ll be here.”

  “Of course. But they’ll have to stay on the sidelines with the public.” She nodded to the plate glass windows on the second level where cameras and bodies jostled for position overhead.

  Cobie stared at the cacophony for a few seconds before saying, “You’re really good at this.”

  “It’s my job,” Lila responded with a dismissive wave, but a little jolt of pride zinged through her. Not many appreciated the skill set. Most never even gave it any thought, and those who did usually looked down on her as conniving or manipulative rather than as socially intelligent.

  “So how much is too much tonight?” Cobie asked.

  “You just be you. But follow me.”

  “Sure. That’s specific.”

  “Can you dance?” Lila asked.

  “Yes,” Cobie said with an amusing hint of defiance. “I’m actually a pretty good dancer.”

  “I’m going to tuck that little bit of information away for later, but tonight, just pretend we’re dancing. I’m the lead, but you know the song as well as I do.”

  “Got it,” Cobie said. “You ready?

  “Just waiting on you.”

  Cobie rolled her shoulders, lifted her chin, and took a deep breath. Lila watched, captivated by the transition as she shifted from tentative to confident, like someone had flipped a switch. Cobie clearly wasn’t a slouch in the acting department. Nodding to Malik in the rearview mirror, she said, “Show time.”

  Cobie exited the town car, signaling for Malik to stay as she jogged around and opened Lila’s door for her. Extending her hand with an exuberant smile Lila almost forgot wasn’t real, she said, “May I have this dance?”

  In spite of her effort to tamp down any genuine emotions threatening to surface, Lila grinned as she slid her palm along Cobie’s. Her hand was every bit as strong as those of the men she’d dated, but so much softer, with graceful fingers that slipped so easily between her own.

  Her chest felt unbearably light as Cobie led her up the stairs, where a security officer waved them inside, and Malik set about checking the perimeter. She tried to focus on the steps, the trappings, the parts they each had to play. Everyone had hit their marks so far. Even the cameras flashed from an appropriate distance. But she had to fight to stay aware of them when Cobie’s smile shown as brightly as any she’d ever seen her give a leading man on screen.

  “What size?” Cobie asked as they approached the rental counter.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Skate size?”

  “Oh, six and a half,” Lila said, then added, “figure skate.”

  Cobie winked. “I figured you for a figure girl.”

  Lila rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “And you’re hockey style.”

  “Duh,” Cobie said playfully, releasing her hand as she turned to the counter.

  Lila felt a little chill at the loss of contact, but she blamed it on the sheet of ice next to her. She tried not to think too much about the unexpected flash of feeling Cobie seemed to spark. They were always short-lived and likely steeped in a great deal of theatrical training. Still, she couldn’t help but steal little glances at her as she chatted amicably with the young woman behind the rental counter. The girl blushed and laughed as Cobie said something Lila wished she could hear.

  “Thanks,” Cobie said over her shoulder and headed back toward Lila, skates in hand.

  “Were you flirting with the counter girl?” Lila whispered as she kicked off her calf-length boots and set them neatly aside.

  “It’s a little early in the play for that, isn’t it?” Cobie asked as she snugged up her skate laces.

  “It is, but I think you made her night.”

  “Nah, she was just nervous, and I put her at ease.”

  “That’s probably a better skill than flirting.”

  Cobie’s dark brown hair had fallen across her face when she’d leaned forward to tie her skates, but she shook it back to regard Lila seriously. “Yeah?”

  Lila ignored the heat of Cobie’s inquisitive gaze and finished adjusting her laces. “You disagree?”

  “Not at all. I’m just surprised you think so.”

  “Believe it or not, I didn’t get to be rich and famous by treating people poorly.”

  “I do believe you.” Cobie stood. “But that doesn’t make any of us less nervous in your presence, and I think you probably don’t hate that.”

  Lila frowned and shrugged. “There’s always a power dynamic in any situation. Some people work hard to ignore that fact. I choose to own it. Doing so doesn’t make me a bad person.”

  Cobie shook her head. “I suppose not, but it does beg the question how you manage to always come out on top of that power struggle, but that’s a deeper conversation than a second date calls for.”

  “And what kind of conversations does one have on a second date?” Lila asked, once again impressed with Cobie’s ability to assess and shift the tone to fit their needs.

  “I think the most pressing question right now,” Cobie leaned close and took both her hands, “is can you skate well enough to keep up with me for the next hour?”

  Lila laughed and allowed herself to be pulled onto wobbly blades. “I guess we’re about to find out. Why don’t you show me what you’ve got?”

  “And by ‘you’ you mean thirty of New York’s most morally bankrupt photographers and videographers?”

  “Of course,” Lila said nonchalantly. “No pressure.”

  “Don’t worry. On
my long list of things to feel nervous about tonight, the skating doesn’t even break the top ten.”

  “Go ahead. Take a lap, champ,” Lila challenged.

  Cobie shrugged, grinning smugly as she opened the door to the rink. As soon as her skates hit the ice, she slipped and shot out her hands. Lila gasped and reached for her, the instinct to protect too fast and strong to be examined, but as Cobie grabbed hold of the side rail, she turned and grinned wickedly. “Gotcha.”

  “What?”

  “I just wanted to see how you’d react before I did this.”

  “What?” she asked again, her heart still hammering her ribcage from the scare.

  Cobie stood up straighter, pushed off with one skate, and did a big, lazy loop to the end of the rink before tucking her body lower at the far end. Crouching with one arm raised, speed-skater style, she shot off across the ice. She gained speed so quickly she was halfway across the rink by the time Lila realized what was happening. She had only a second to be impressed by Cobie’s grace and power before the wall rose up in her vision. Cobie didn’t seem bothered by the immovable object in her path, though, and took several more rapid strides, each movement strong and fluid in ways Lila wouldn’t have imagined possible from her. But she couldn’t process her impressive form fully as she was now only feet away from the fiberglass barrier separating them from about fifty camera-wielding reporters. One more push, one more glide, and Lila winced, turning half away from the impending collision while still peeking just enough to see Cobie throw herself sideways, sending a spray of shaved ice ahead of her. It splattered across the sheet of Plexiglass, and every one of the paparazzi who hadn’t dived out of the way rewarded her with a rush of shutter clicks Lila could hear all the way across the rink.

  As Cobie skated back over at a more casual pace, her grin had changed, now imbued with a shock of confidence she’d only hinted at during earlier encounters. She shook her hair from her dark brown eyes, which danced with a hint of mischief, and her cheeks held a tinge of natural blush more beautiful than any make-up artist could produce. Lila’s chest constricted in an unsettling way, and she returned the smile without even meaning to. She could easily see why America had fallen for her. How could anyone not?