Page 18 of Love like the (Real) Reel Thing
Jess hid a smile at Robert’s perplexed expression.
As the press conference wrapped up, the cast headed back inside. Then Lisa and a number of assistants ushered the press down the driveway.
Jess released a small sigh. Compared with last year, it was all so ... civilised.
A young woman, wearing an earpiece, and dressed casually in black jeans and a black T-shirt, approached Anthony.
“Mr Neary? We’ve a craft truck arriving this morning. Mel Winters wants it outside the orangery, if that’s okay?”
Anthony nodded. “Let me know if I or my staff can help in any way.”
“Maybe I could be an AD if they don’t need me to be an extra,” Emily said, after the young woman left.
A sudden breeze pulled Jess’s hair across her face and she pushed it away. “What’s an AD? And what’s a craft truck?”
“Assistant director,” Emily said. “They’re the runners I was telling you about?”
“Small food truck,” Robert said at the same time. “The ADs are glorified gofers. They tend to be young women.”
“Exactly!” Emily said.
“You seem to know a bit about the industry,” Jess said, glancing at Robert.
He shrugged. “You pick up random bits of information when you do my kind of work. Plus, I’ve a friend who’s a videographer – she’s worked on some small indie films.”
Jess thought quickly. “Is she busy at the moment or would she be free to put together some social-media videos for me?”
“I can give you her number and you can ask her yourself,” Robert said. “Look, I’ve finished up here for the day. Do you fancy going for a drink later?”
Jess hesitated. Was she seeing too much of him? Who cared? She wouldn’t overthink this – and Robert wasn’t putting any pressure on her.
“Actually, I’d love that.”
CHAPTER 10
“I can’t believe that Páidí already knows my name. I’ve been here only once!” Jess said, as she and Robert took their drinks and settled into one of the benches in The Tin Whistle.
Robert took a sip of beer. “You’re not allowed to be a bartender until you can remember names and faces. Do you not have a good local pub where you live? Come to think of it, you never told me where you live.”
“You know, that was very un-curious of you.” Jess picked up her raspberry lemonade. She’d been tempted to ask for a glass of wine but given that The Tin Whistle was the hub of Linford’s social life, she’d decided she had to be careful not to become a daily drinker.
“So?” Robert prompted.
“Oh, where I live?” She’d keep it simple and tell the truth – no explanations. “I’m back home for the moment while I look for a new apartment.”
He nodded. “What happened to the one you were in?”
Excellent question. “The landlord is selling.” Simonwasselling, so that wasn’t a lie. “But it’s nice being back with myparents for a while. They have an old house in Dun Laoghaire, which sounds a lot posher than it is. The place is kind of falling down, although the electrics are in perfect condition.” She stirred her drink with a straw. “My dad’s an electrician.”
“Useful person to know,” Robert said, nodding to someone across the bar. “It’s hard to get good tradesmen. What about your mother? Does she work?”
“She’s a nurse.” Jess tried not to feel irritated by the instant pigeon-holing of her dad. She was also aware that she might be slightly over-reacting. Her emotions had been all over the place in the last few months, and she didn’t fully trust herself not to read too much into what people said or did. “What about your parents?”
“Dad’s an engineer and Mum’s a legal secretary.” He gave a brief smile. “I’ve a brother and sister, both doctors.”
“Wow, look at you, you rebel!”
Robert huffed out a laugh. “Actually, the only good part of my job is that I get to work remotely.”
