Page 34 of Lights, Camera, Love

The photographers are now on the approach, clicking their cameras. Once I’m within their earshot, I say to the pretend couple, ‘You two lovebirds go and get whatever you need for your date tonight. I’ll wait out here.’

Austin and Evie take off for the store entrance, arm in arm. The paparazzi chase after them, calling out questions about their relationship and asking for the name of Austin’s ‘mystery woman’.

Time to change that, too.

I grab my phone from the car and tap out an email to the PR agency I hired to make this happen, emphasising that they need to leak the name Evie Scottandas many behind-the-scenes details aboutMovingas they can manage to the media. Of course, I say nothing about Gabriel Dean, even though that would guarantee a front cover.

Austin is right to fear what his ex-wife might do when this story comes out, and my next move is to sit back in the car with the door hanging open and type out a statement that he can use if Nadia reposts thoseincriminating texts from years ago. She took the screencaps down after he called her last week, but she could re-upload them at any time, along with that stupid video of him wanking to his own reflection. Trying to keep a straight face when Austin first told me about this footage was one of the toughest challenges of my life, and it’s not like those have been in short supply for me.

The statement takes twice as long to write as it should; my gaze keeps drifting to the grocery store’s automatic doors. The photographers took off right after Austin and Evie disappeared inside, having got what they needed, so why haven’t those two come back out yet? Are they picking out some French brie, serrano ham and Sicilian olives to go with a bottle of Cristal champagne, planning to turn this pretend date into a real one? I kick the car door further open to let in some more air.

Twelvemore minutes pass before the glass doors of the entrance finally glide open, and Austin and Evie emerge with bulging grocery bags hooked over their wrists. On their way back to the car, he says something to her that makes her burst out laughing.

I look away and suck in a man-the-hell-up breath.

Austin’s face suddenly appears in the front windshield, like a movie jump-scare. ‘How’d we do, chief?’ he asks with a grin as he steps around to the passenger door.

I clear my throat. ‘Good, man. Looked legit.’

‘Sweet. We’re faking it ’til we make it, right, Evie?’ he says as she climbs into the back seat.

Instead of replying, she looks at me. ‘When do you think the story will come out?’

‘It’s supposed to be Thursday,’ I say.

Austin clicks in his seatbelt, and the plane of his forearm grazes mine as he rests his arm on the console. I move my arm away.

He coughs and turns to grin at Evie. ‘Time for the world to see that Austin Reynolds can still pull a hot chick, eh?’

I glance at Evie through the rear-vision mirror. Her brow furrows slightly as she offers him an uncertain smile.

‘I don’t think that came out the way you hoped,’ I mutter to Austin.

‘Huh?’ he squints at me.

‘Forget it.’

He slumps against the seat, emptying his lungs with a long breath. Once more, he looks utterly drained without having done much at all.

JAMIE

I’m sorry I hurt you, Constance. I was wrong to speak to you like that.

CONSTANCE

It’s okay. I was wrong, too. I didn’t mean what I said.

JAMIE

(Steps towards her) Well, you know what they say about two wrongs …

CONSTANCE

They make a right.

I scratch my head at the muddled about-face in the script I’m holding. Are Jamie and Constance making serious apologies or trying to be cute? What the hell is the point of this moment?

Agata, the most capable production assistant onMoving, slaps a rolled-up magazine onto my script. I mouth her a ‘thank you’ and carefully set my disposable coffee cup on Austin’s canvas chair. I would’ve gladly escaped this morning’s shoot to go and buy the mag myself, but chaos had broken out on set.

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