Page 14 of Romance Is Dead

I wanted to point out that there were several empty picnic tables, but that would be rude.

“It’ll get better. That feeling never lasts long.”

“I hope not.” She speared a hunk of avocado. “Actually, there was another reason I wanted to come over here.”

“Oh?”

“Not to be weird, I know we don’t really know each other, but I wanted to check on you. Going through what you did last night?” She pressed her hands to her cheeks. “I can’t imagine.”

I stiffened. “That’s nice of you, but I’m ok.”

“It must have been awful.”

“It wasn’t great.” I pushed some lettuce around with my fork, what little appetite I had evaporating as Trevor’s bashed-in forehead came to mind.

“What happened? Natasha just said there was an accident.”

“Honestly, I don’t really feel like talking about it.”

“Totally. No, of course you don’t.” Eyes falling, Chloe set down her fork. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.” She stared at her salad, looking dejected. Neither of us felt like eating anymore, apparently.

As we sat in silence for several beats, my heart twinged. I knew she hadn’t meant any harm—I’m sure everyone else was curious about what happened, too. And it was clear she felt anxious on set and just wanted a friend, even if she was going about it a little awkwardly.

“How do you like filming so far?” I asked, forking up some lettuce. “This is your first movie, right?”

Looking a bit surprised, Chloe nodded. “I’ve had a few bit parts here and there, but this is my first major role.”

“You’re doing great so far.”

“You don’t have to say that. I ruined a whole take earlier by bursting into tears.”

“And I missed my mark twice in a row. But the way you kept reaching for the ibuprofen over and over because your character was hungover? Genius, so funny.” It was one of my favorite parts of making movies—the little choices actors made that really sold a scene.

“Really?”

“Really.”

Chloe smiled, looking relaxed for the first time all day. “Thanks for saying that. It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do—be an actor.”

I bit my tongue. I didn’t need to dash any dreams today.

“I am a little nervous, though,” she admitted. “For tomorrow’s shoot.”

“Why’s that?”

“The scene on the balcony? It’s not a huge stunt, but I’m still worried I’m going to screw it up.” Chloe laughed. “Or that I’ll actually get pushed off and break my neck.”

Picturing the scene we’d be filming the next day, my stomach plummeted. There it was: the lurking feeling that had been bothering me, telling me that Trevor’s death might not have been so accidental after all.

“I have to go.” I staggered to my feet, grabbing my half-finished salad.

“Are you alright?” Chloe’s face crinkled in concern. “What happened?”

“Something in the salad isn’t agreeing with me. Maybe the avocado?” I pressed a hand to my stomach, trying to sell the story. “I’m sorry, we can chat again later!”

Leaving my food behind, I fled the tent. I needed to go back to the ditch where we’d found Trevor. Now.

Chapter Six

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