Page 88 of Take Hold of Me

Rinaldo pipes up. “We haven’t finished going over everything yet.”

I glance down at the rest of the sheet. Three more lines and the scene ends. Wait. There is a stage direction at the very end. [RINALDO and EMILIE kiss as flashbulbs go off. A fan {BRANDAN} comes up and asks for a selfie.]

Mon Dieu.

My eyes travel between my old boyfriend and my current love. How can I do this? I cannot kiss Rinaldo in front of Wills. And I certainlywill notpractice this.

“Want to help us with our lines to make sure we’re doing them right?” Rinaldo offers his script to Wills.

No. No. No. My heart rate accelerates faster than a seamstress’s hands during Fashion Week. “You do not have to. I am sure the director will want us to go over our lines for her.” I look around, frantically looking for someone in charge. Anyone.

Wills looks at me and reads my distress. “I have every confidence that Emilie knows what she is doing.”

“Well, we only have the last page to go over anyway.” He sports a smirk that I used to find incredibly sexy dancing on his lips. Now, not so much. Rinaldo shakes his script back. “Emmie, let’s finish up before the cameras turn on us.”

“Emmie,” Wills repeats, his jaw tightening. “I’ll let you get back to your rehearsal.” His eyes roam over me.

I am in the middle of a testosterone-fueled death match that will not end well, considering the way my scene ends in the script. I turn to Rinaldo who is eyeing me with a wicked gleam in his brown eyes. I blurt out the first thing that comes to my mind. “Have you seen where they have water?”

Wills points to a long table across the set. “Would you like me to get you a bottle?”

I nod. “If that is okay?”

“Of course.” Wills looks to Rinaldo and takes a couple of steps toward the table.

“Hey, Wills, can you get me one too?”

Wills continues walking, pretending as though he is too far out of earshot to have heard the petty request.

When he is a safe distance away, I hiss. “Rinaldo, why did you do that? You and I have been over for nearly two years and there is no reason for you to act that way around Wills.”

“When went out to dinner a few months ago in Barcelona, I realized how much I missed you. This guy—” he tilts his head toward the food area—“has only been in the picture for what? A few weeks?”

“No, he has—”

Rinaldo waves his hand to cut me off. “Whatever. He doesn’t haveyearsof history like we do.”

“I love him.”

“You loved me once, too.”

I thought I did, but it is so much better with Wills. “What I have with Wills is different.”

“That guy’s intense, Emmie. Does he make you laugh like we did?”

Laugh? Well, no. He has so much pain. But I am helping him. And he supports me. He has delved deeper into my soul than Rinaldo ever did. “We have a good time. He sees me.”

He reaches out and strokes my cheek. “I see you too, Emmie. I see your beautiful hazel eyes that show your every expression. They change when you’re happy, or sad,” He leans in, “or turned on.”

I step back, my eyes drawing into slits. “Or annoyed. What are you doing? I thought you are dating Geonna Broz anyway.”

“Not really. Just some publicity dates our reps set up, but that’s pretty much over now.”

Great.

“Everything okay here, Ems?”

Wills opens a bottle of water and offers it to me. “Merci. Yes, all is good.” He nods and tosses a bottle toward Rinaldo, proving he is too much of a gentleman to play Rinaldo’s games.

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