Page 15 of Out of the Gold

He nods and heads over to the bar. A second later, Mark plops down next to me. “Hey,” I fist bump him. “Great music.”

“Sure is.” He holds out his glass as if to toast and realizes I’m drinkless.

“Joe’s getting me a water. Need to get hydrated and not drunk, considering my call time,” I grumble.

Mark swallows his scotch. Is he drinking it like I do, because it’s expected? He diverts my wandering thoughts by noting, “Being the lead can suck sometimes.”

“Being a human pincushion before the sun rises sucks more,” my voice drips with resentment. Joe drops off my glass of water and before he can say a word, he’s pulled away by another cameraman.

With his eyes on Joe and the guys, Mark says, “If it’s any consolation, your costume did rock.”

After I swallow half of my water, I reply, “Thanks. Be glad you don’t have to be sewed into yours.”

The bastard smirks, his eyes roving around the room. And stop. Under his breath, he mutters, “There she is.”

I follow his line of vision to the back wall. Melody and Sophia are there, talking between themselves. “She . . . who?”

As if holding the precious Aurumite our characters desperately seek, he replies, “Sophia.”

For some inexplicable reason, relief pours over me. “Ah. The camerawoman.”

Without moving his eyes, he brings his scotch to his lips. “She’s talking with your dresser.”

My gaze travels to Sophia’s companion. I run my fingers through my hair, wondering if hers is as silky as it appears. “Yeah. That’s her.”

“Think they’re friends?”

“How should I know? We’re not. Friends, that is. She sews me into my outfit, fucks up my gloves, and that’s about it. We don’t chit-chat like little girls, braiding our hair.”

Mark slants me a dirty look, then his eyes return to the two women. “They look like they’re friends.”

To shut him up, I glance at the duo again. Their body language is relaxed between them. “Yeah. Guess so.” I grab my glass of water, wishing it were a pinot, and finish it. Glancing at the clock, my eyes widen. “Shit. It’s already ten. I better get back to my room so I can get at least a little shut-eye before I have to head to the gym at four, and then to wardrobe.”

Against my will, my eyes stray back to Melody and Sophia.Shecan get more sleep than me since I’d bet my left nut she doesn’t work out. Huffing, I stand.

“Wait, dude.” Mark scrambles to his feet. “You’re introducing me.”

“Huh?”

“I want to talk with Sophia, and you’re my wingman. You told me today that you’ve met her.”

“Since when did you need help talking with a woman?”

He finishes his scotch and deposits the empty glass on the table. “I don’t. But it’s smoother when someone else does it. And you’re right here.” He slaps me on the back. “C’mon.”

With slow feet, I follow him to the women. Before we get too close, though, Mark hangs back so I’ll be the first one to approach them. “You owe me, asshole.”

“Got your back, Doc, you know that. But now, it’s your turn.”

Sighing, I lead us to the women. “Hey, Melody. Sophia.” Real original, but it gets the job done.

Melody licks her lips and tilts her head, as if trying to figure out where some annoying buzzing is coming from. She plays with her earring for a moment, then pulls, sending her big gold hoop swinging. For her part, Sophia’s eyes run up and down us like we’re something stuck to the bottom of her wedge sandals. Mark has a long way to go with this one.

I’m shoved from behind. Before I can say something else, Sophia’s no-nonsense voice cuts through the awkwardness. “Hi, Char—Chase.”

Ignoring her near-slip to my real name—damn Melody for telling her—I introduce Mark, who opens with a comment about the club. He tries to make small talk about Amalfi, but the ladies barely engage. Doesn’t look like this is going to work out for him.

Tired of listening to the stilted conversation over the loud music, I decide a retreat is the best offense. “It was nice seeing you, but I have an early call time.” My eyes land on Melody’s amber-hued ones, which show no reaction at all. I mirror her expression. “See you at six.”

I wrap my arm around Mark’s neck and haul him away from the two women. For the first time I wonder if the next two weeks will be the biggest battle of wills I’ve ever encountered.

My chest puffs. I’ve never met a role—or woman—I couldn’t conquer.

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