Page 6 of You and Me, For Real
I relax into my seat for the first time since the interview began, finally able to tell a complete truth. “Yes. I’m looking forward to the new chapter in my career.”
“It could mean longer days and even months away from home. Are you sure you can handle being away from your girlfriend that long? Or perhaps you two are looking to star in something else together?”
Scarlet turns toward me, and I smile at her.
“I think she’ll be fine on her own for a while, but I’m sure there will be future projects together at some point.”
It’s no hardship for me to leave the show behind. I’m done acting in angsty teeny-bopper shows. I was ready to close that chapter two years ago. I’d only renewed my contract for two more seasons to appease my dad and because I didn’t have any other options lined up.
What if there are no other future film contracts?
Yet another reason I’m determined to fulfill my contract with Wesley.
“So, you guys are in it for the long haul then?” She wiggles her fingers toward us.
Not long at all, actually. Eight weeks and two days, to be exact. Just three weeks after the show’s season premiere event. Not that I’m counting.
I look dotingly at Scarlet, my acting skills in peak form. “Absolutely.”
“Can I keep your shirt?”Luke asks as he maneuvers the SUV into Los Angeles traffic, exiting the studio lot.
I look over at him from the passenger seat. “Why?”
“I think it’d make a nice Christmas gift for my mom.” His smile bursts wide across his face.
I punch his bicep, solid from his years in the military. “You’re a real jerk, you know that?”
He laughs. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist.”
“I plan on burning this thing when I get home tonight.” I buttoned two more buttons on the shirt, but the seams stretched too taut, threatening to pop a button loose at any moment.
Luke thumbs to the backseat. “You’ve got your gym clothes you could wear.”
I considered the possibility, but seeing as we’re driving directly to a swimwear photoshoot where I’ll be removing my clothes yet again, I didn’t see the sense in putting on my stinky gym clothes. “I’ll pass, thanks.”
“Just trying to be helpful as your trusty personal assistant.” He finger-guns me and winks.
“Would you two quit acting like children?” my father quips from the backseat. “Just focus on getting us there, Luke. We’re cutting it close.”
I glance at the digital clock. It’s three p.m. “We’ve got plenty of time, Dad. I’m not required to be there until five.”
“They’ll need plenty of time for hair and makeup.”
“Gonna make your ugly face all pretty,” Luke inserts.
“We don’t want to set a bad impression by showing up late.” Dad releases aYou’re being difficultsighand looks up from his phone. “Son, sometimes I wonder if you even care about your career anymore.”
Here we go again.
I do care. I’ve bent over backward the last decade in my career to keep him happy. And never once has he noticed. Exhibit A: agreeing to the bogus interview with my very fake girlfriend. Taking pictures together is one thing, but lying to the American public? Makes my skin itch.
“Don’t worry, sir, I’ll get him there in plenty of time to get beautified.” Luke smirks before changing lanes, passing a slow car.
I smile despite my father souring my mood. At least my cousin understands. He has his own dad issues. Then again, he just avoids his. Part of me wishes I could, but then I’d have no parent left. I’d be no better than Mom. Just giving up on him.
Luke slams on the brakes at a red light.
A dog waits on the corner. There are people around it, but no one acknowledges it. The opposite light turns green and everyone crosses. The dog waits a second and then steps onto the street. It walks in front of the SUV, favoring its hind leg.
