Page 19 of Romance Is Dead

“What about that scene when you rescued that girl’s lunch from the crab? Totally made episode two.”

One corner of Teddy’s mouth tugged upward, a crack in his dour expression. “You know, I think that’s the moment that landed me this gig.”

“We should find the crab a part, too.”

We both smiled then, even me, and I couldn’t help but notice how nicely his eyes crinkled when he did that. But then his phone dinged for a third time, and he grabbed it off the mattress.

“Can’t you leave that alone for ten minutes?” I spat.

Teddy swiveled the device to face me, beaming like a proud parent. “Kendall Jenner is DMing me.”

“Oh my God.” I rubbed the bridge of my nose. “I have an idea. Both of us need this movie to be a success, right? You’re trying to make a name for yourself, and I barely get paid unless this movie is a hit at the box office. Preferably, this would happen without any additional murders.”

“Preferably.”

I took a deep breath. “If you help me figure out what really happened to Trevor, even if you don’t believe me, I’ll help you with your acting.”

Teddy considered this for a long moment. “You really think you can help me?”

“Probably. At the very least, I can help you make better choices than pulling a Southern accent out of nowhere in the middle of a scene.” I exhaled and waited a beat. “What do you say?”

Teddy looked thoughtful. “I’m in.” He clapped his hands together before making finger guns, pew pew pew. “But I can’t make any promises that I’ll be too helpful with the detective stuff.”

“That’s ok. I already know where to start.”

We needed to find the face in the photo.

Chapter Eight

Teddy: We still on for this morning?

Teddy: Did you forget our rehearsal?

Teddy: I’ll sacrifice you to the killer if you don’t get up here.

Teddy: Just kidding, I wouldn’t do that. But seriously.

It’s not that I’d forgotten, per se.

I’d totally remembered that after we’d agreed to our pact the night before, we’d planned our first acting lesson for eight o’clock tonight. What I’d forgotten was that Teddy had texted me an hour later to reschedule for eight this morning instead so he could still call his brother tonight for their book club. This was a problem because it was currently 8:08 a.m. and Mara, Chloe, and I were at the hotel’s restaurant, elbows deep in a giant breakfast spread. None of us had been able to make up our minds, so we’d ordered several dishes to share, including an irresponsible number of biscuits.

The meal was doubling as a therapy session for Mara, who’d just gotten word that her ex-boyfriend Austin had sent an unexpected package to her apartment in LA. I tucked my phone beneath the table, trying to listen as I tapped out a reply.

“. . . just don’t understand why he’d send everything back like that—it’s so mean.” Mara stabbed at a spear of asparagus covered in hollandaise sauce. “I certainly don’t want this crap after he’s had it for months.”

My ears perked up as I continued to type. “Wait, what did he send back?”

I’d liked Austin the one time I’d met him—he’d clearly adored Mara and didn’t mind giving her just as much sass as she gave him. But he’d lost all points with me when he dumped her without explanation on the last day of filming.

“A sweater I left in his trailer, and an old glasses case, and”—she hiccupped a little cry—“the stuffed hedgehog I bought him for our one-month anniversary.”

My heart squeezed. No one loved and craved love as much as Mara did, and no one was as loyal. Once you were in her heart, you were there for good.

“He never deserved you,” I said. “He doesn’t even deserve your old glasses case. I’m glad he sent it back.”

“Yeah, what a dick.” Chloe reached across the table and squeezed Mara’s wrist. “You’ll find someone way better, I know it.”

I gave Chloe a small smile of thanks, grateful she was there to help comfort Mara. We had started including Chloe at our table for breakfast every morning, and so far she was a welcome addition. She could still be a little shy and awkward at times, but she was sweet and clearly appreciated being included. We’d invited Audrey, too, but she had declined. Instead, she spent most mornings at a separate table, alone. She was currently in a booth in the far corner of the room, her eyes glued to the script as she mouthed her lines.

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