by Lee Winter
Elizabeth didn’t react. “And if we say no?” she asked quietly.
“We wouldn’t fire you, if that’s what you’re wondering. Or were you hoping we would?” He gave her a knowing look. “Your contract’s too expensive to pay out. Hers isn’t.” Lenton pointed at Summer, who flinched. “We’d fire Ms. Hayes as surplus to requirements for starting this mess, and your last season will be about as much fun as lancing boils. And when the Hunter fans complain about sweet Joey leaving the show, it’ll be made clear why she really left.”
“And why would that be?” Elizabeth’s even, dry tone barely lifted above a whisper.
“Oh, I don’t know. I hear all sorts of rumors about the British Bitch. It’s hard to know what to believe. Did the delightful Ms. Hayes flee the show because of your jealous fits of rage over her youth and beauty? Who knows what HGZ will take it into their heads to report?”
Blackmail? Summer’s nostrils flared. That bastard. Wait, did that mean he was the leak?
“So?” Ravitz finally spoke again, an amused gleam in his eye. “I presume we have an exciting new plot that you’ll both be happy to take part in?”
No one spoke.
“Well, Ms. Hayes?” Lenton prodded.
Autumn’s words rang in Summer’s head. Speak only for yourself. Okay, was this good for her career? Definitely. A publicity blitz about her on the number one show in the whole of the US? She affixed a smile. “I’m sure Joey can find her inner bisexual. Or inner gay. Whatever you’d like, Mr. Lenton.”
“Excellent.” He turned his measuring look to Elizabeth. “And Ms. Thornton?” Lenton’s tone dared her to challenge him.
Elizabeth met it with an unfazed look. “You know, since Choosing Hope’s number one, it would be exceptionally foolish to break up the reason you got there. And I believe you know that.” Her gaze drifted from face to face. She smiled serenely.
Lenton and Ravitz’s jaws clenched in stereo.
“However, mystifyingly, I have seen men in this business put their own egos ahead of success, just to prove a point to someone who has angered them,” she said. “The fact is, Summer is too talented to fire. It’s a shame you don’t understand that yet. So, I’ll do this, and then you’ll see. She will be impressive in this storyline.”
“Bess, you don’t have to do this for me,” Summer said under her breath.
“I only have a season left. You could have many more.” She looked back to the men. “I’ll get my people to contact you with my conditions. No sex scenes, for instance. Sorry to disappoint.” Her eyes hardened. “A fade to black is the most I’ll agree to. I won’t have either of us exploited for ratings. And don’t try and tell me you wouldn’t do that. We all know better.”
The men shot looks at each other but didn’t speak, as though afraid she’d say no outright.
“And I get creative freedom in precisely how I portray Chief Hunt’s shift into lesbianism.” She narrowed her eyes. “She will not be a predator. At least, not on this subject. Make her as dark as you like in any other area, but on this, she’s not playing games. Whatever she feels for Carter or her own coming out, they mean something to her. Something real.”
The showrunner exchanged looks with the chief writer. Hugo licked his lips thoughtfully and nodded, scribbling a note. “I can make that fly,” he muttered to Lenton. “No problem.”
Lenton regarded Elizabeth for a long beat. “All right. I’m sure we can work something out.” He smiled another oily smile, then shuffled his papers. “Good meeting. My people will be in touch with yours.” His gaze shifted to take in Summer. “See you both back at work next week.”
The meeting wrapped up and everyone else strode out, leaving Summer looking wide-eyed at Elizabeth. “That was… you were amazing.”
“Know your own power, Summer,” she said. “They were always going ahead with that plot. We wouldn’t have been able to get out of it without a mess involving lawyers. But I wanted some control, so I negotiated where I had wiggle room.”
“Incredible. And I loved how you called him out on putting ego before success.”
“Hardly a newsflash.” Her smile bordered on mischievous. “But I admit the opportunity was too great to resist, given he was trying so desperately to get me to agree and not cause a fuss over the plot like last time.”
“It was priceless. And can you believe how they thought this whole thing had been some big plot? Stealth marketing!”
“Of course they did.” Elizabeth picked up her bag. “They see the world through their own eyes. Schemes everywhere. On that note, it’s always better to let them believe you’re playing the game than being duped by it. Gives you more leverage. They don’t underestimate you then. That’s why I stopped you telling them the truth before.”
“Makes sense.”
Elizabeth gave her a wry smile. “It looks like our lives are about to get complicated again.”
“We seem to have a skill for it. Autumn will probably cry when I tell her.”
“I think I’ll have to get Delvine to tell Rachel. Although I’d quite like to watch.” Elizabeth sounded amused. “Are you doing well, Summer? I only just returned to civilization or I’d have called. I must say it was odd not having you around on set for the last week. It seemed much emptier. Even Jean-Claude noticed. He commented he missed you too.”
Too? Elizabeth had missed her? “Oh, I’ve been vacationing hard. Catching up on my soaps, denting my ice cream collection, bemoaning the fact I haven’t taken my camera out in weeks. What about you? How are you doing?”
They headed for the door together. “I… have had…” She paused. “I was going to lie and say everything’s fine. It isn’t though. Filming wrapped. I headed home, did a few chores, caught up with Alex and Zara. But Grace is being mystifying and out of contact. I’m not sure what to make of it.”
Summer felt a burn of pleasure in her chest. “Thanks.”
“For what?”
“Not lying. I love that you shared that with me. I-I love all the things you’ve shared with me lately. It means a lot.”
Elizabeth’s lips gave the tiniest of upticks. “Would you like to get a tea with me? Joe’s is on the corner. Doesn’t do a bad brew for an American establishment.”
“I agree. But I don’t think I can.”
“You’re busy?”
“A little,” Summer hedged. She wasn’t quite ready for being in close quarters with the woman who made her hormones hum. “Maybe another time?”
Elizabeth nodded. “I’d like that. Call me if the mood strikes.”
Her hopeful look undid Summer. She sighed. So damned weak. “Actually, I think I can shift a thing. I’d love to get a tea with you.”
“Great.” Elizabeth’s eyes crinkled in an adorable way.
God. Summer was nuts to put herself through more heartache. She heard herself saying, “Cool. Let’s go.”
So weak. She was so, so weak.
“Let me order,” Summer said the moment they arrived at the cafe, which was bursting with cakes, crusty bread, and the smells of tea and coffee. “I know what you like. Besides, I owe you something.”
“What?”
“Wait and see.”
Summer shooed her in the direction of the square wooden tables, where Elizabeth found a spot with a nice view out the window, away from other patrons. She glanced at her watch. Eleven-thirty. She’d call Delvine after this and break the news that she was yet again going to have to deal with The Gay and Summer in the same sentence. She smirked until she remembered what that meant—more scenes that were a little too close to home. How long before people started to genuinely suspect that she had certain leanings? She really wasn’t up for the scrutiny it would bring; she craved her privacy. And she certainly couldn’t face being anyone’s poster girl for a particular group.
Five minutes later Summer returned from the count
er, a teasing smile on her face.
God she’d missed that cheeky expression. Nothing had been the same since Summer had left Eight Little Pieces out of the blue. When was the last time she’d craved anyone’s company? Even Grace she preferred in small doses. Not Summer though.
“I’ve owed you this since our meeting with Jean-Claude,” Summer was saying. “Promises were made.”
“I have no idea what you…” Elizabeth paused as a waitress brought over two steaming cups of tea and then returned with a gooey-looking chocolate lava pudding. “Oh!” It was sin on a plate. Her mouth watered. “It’s not even lunchtime. Let alone time for…” She waved at the oozing, cocoa-rich concoction.
“It’s lunchtime somewhere and it’ll go with the tea, which is a special blend with chocolate in it. Not as good as our favorite, but I think you’ll like it.”
“I suspect I’ll need a few hours on the treadmill to make up for all this.” Elizabeth’s fingers tingled as she stared at the dessert. It looked as heavenly as Marcus’s pudding.
“No problem, I thought of that too.” Summer moved her hand around the side of the plate and extracted cutlery. “Two forks. We can share if you need some rationalization.”
“Ah. You’re an expert.”
“I have known a lot of actresses in my day.” Summer grinned. “Come on, give it a go. Tea’s getting cold. And the dessert has to be eaten warm.”
Fifteen minutes later, Summer stared back at her over the remnants of a very enjoyable dessert. Sharing food had been a bit unsettling. It wasn’t something Elizabeth did. Not even with Alex, even when they were dating. It just seemed too intimate. But Summer had a way of sweeping her up into things, be they kisses or chocolate treats.
All right, not fair. She had, after all, been the one to sweep Summer into that kiss. But Summer’s response had been intoxicating.
“What are you thinking about?” Summer asked.
Oh no. They weren’t going there. “How Delvine’s going to take the latest news. And—”
“Excuse me? You’re Summer Hayes, aren’t you?”
A well-dressed woman in her thirties pinned Summer with an excited look.
“I am.” Summer quietly put down her fork.
“Oh my God, I’m such a big Punky Power fan!”
“Really? Which episode did you like most?”
“I loved them all. I can’t pick a favorite!”
Summer smiled. “I see.”
“Can I have your autograph?” The woman slapped an 8x10 on the table. It was a black and white photo of a teenaged Summer as Punky, looking particularly adorable.
How convenient she should happen to have it with her. Elizabeth’s jaw tightened. Professional “fans” kept photos of dozens of stars in their trunks and whipped them out to be signed if they saw one. Then they’d turn around and sell them on eBay. If it was her, Elizabeth would send this liar on her way with a snarl. She wondered how Summer would handle it.
“I’m afraid I can’t. You see you’re interrupting lunch with my friend.”
“I’m so sorry, but please? It’d mean everything.”
“What’s your name?” Summer asked.
“Summer,” Elizabeth leaned in to warn her that this was no fan. “I don’t think—”
“Clarice.” The woman cut her off with a sharp look, then put a fat, black pen on the table and looked at Summer expectantly.
Summer made no move toward it. “And how do you spell that, Clarice?” She took a sip of tea.
“Oh, you don’t have to write my name. Just sign it. I can see you’re busy.” Clarice’s eyes passed over Elizabeth briefly, dismissing her.
“No, I don’t mind,” Summer returned her tea to the saucer and reached for the pen. “I can personalize it and everything. In fact, I insist.”
“No,” Clarice said quickly. “It’s okay. I just really want your autograph.”
Summer took the pen, wrote for a few moments, then handed the photo back.
The woman’s expression changed in a furious instant. “Screw you!”
“Have a lovely day.” Summer waved as she stomped out.
Elizabeth shook her head. “What did you write?”
“‘Dear Clarice, it’s rude to pretend to be a fan to solicit autographs from stars for photos you intend to sell. It makes actors feel used and insulted. Kindness always. Summer’. Then I added ‘xox’.”
“That was a nice touch. So you’re not nearly as sweet as you pretend?” Elizabeth snickered. “The scandal!”
“Hey, I’m sweet. To real fans. I just hate con-artists. She was so obvious. She didn’t want a personalized autograph. She couldn’t name a single episode she liked. She’s too old to be in my fanbase, but didn’t say she was a mother, which parents always point out because they’re embarrassed to admit they’ve watched the show. And she had a publicity photo on her.”
It was cute the way she reeled the evidence off, a determined little line between her brows. “Aren’t you a regular Sherlock,” Elizabeth drawled.
“Hardly. Besides, we’re also at Joe’s.”
“What do you mean?”
“We’re so close to the studio that autograph hunters often hit this place, hoping to find someone famous. Surely you’ve been ambushed here before?”
“Never. And I’ve been here dozens of times.”
“Oh, Bess.” Summer’s expression was filled with regret. “I hate that they hate you. It’s so unfair.”
Elizabeth shrugged. “It means I get to take my tea in peace,” she said lightly. “And oozing puddles of chocolate.”
Summer smiled at their dessert debris. “So you enjoyed this?”
“Very much. Not to mention the person I was sharing it with.”
Summer lost a little of her composure and looked away, cheeks reddening.
Oh. Elizabeth cursed herself. She hadn’t meant to flirt. She’d truly meant what she’d said, and it had come out seductive. Desperately, Elizabeth searched for a fresh topic.
Summer beat her to it. “So, since I’m apparently Sherlock, maybe I can help you with your other mystery?”
“My what?”
“Grace? She’s missing? What do you know?”
“Ah. Grace always tells me if she’s going away. Not this time. I went over to her place when my calls rang out. Her neighbor says she left in a cab a few days ago.”
Summer frowned. “Did you try texting? If she’s away from a good reception area, texts sometimes get through if calls don’t.”
“I did. Nothing.” Elizabeth finished the last of her tea. “It’s out of character. She loves to go over my recent acting experiences with me. Discuss the choices I made and so on.” Lecture me, tell me where I went wrong… Elizabeth pushed that from her mind.
“Well, it sounds like she’s left on a spur-of-the-moment decision.”
“Agreed. But why hasn’t she contacted any of us?”
“You know, I don’t think Grace is that hard to work out. Mystifying isn’t really a word I’d apply to her.”
Elizabeth stared at her in surprise. Grace was impossible to fathom at the best of times. “Oh?”
“Just ask yourself: What matters most to Grace? And that’s where she is and what she’s doing.”
Elizabeth eyed her. “And what do you think that is?”
Shooting her an apologetic look, Summer said gently, “I’d guess that, right now, as always, Grace is focused on Grace.”
The sentence robbed Elizabeth of words. For the next few hours—long after they’d changed topics, briefly discussed Hunter, laughed over some memories from Jean-Claude’s film, then waved goodbye—it was all she could think about.
Was Summer right?
The odd, unsettled sensation in her gut told her the insight was eerily accurate.
Chapter 20
Delvine took the news of Choosing Hope’s plans for Hunter with a sort of strangled gurgle, followed by a hefty sigh. “I suppose I shouldn’t be so surprised they’re actually going there,” she said. “I mean that ridiculous Hunter hashtag assails me everywhere I go. It’s huge.”
That was true. Even Elizabeth, who actively avoided social media most of the time, couldn’t escape it.
After Delvine had choked back her surprise, she told Elizabeth to go with the flow. “Say you’re honored fans like your character, and aren’t the writers so interesting, and you never know where they’re going next. Then move on.”
Rachel’s rant was considerably more colorful. She moaned and huffed and said a few things about how damned inconvenient it was that all the buzz around Elizabeth involved lesbian projects. But then she’d startled her at the very end of the call.
“By the way, that Hunter pairing? Professionally, I’m a bit pissed. But personally? Oh hell, Bess, it’s great,” Rachel confided. “My wife and I have been watching it. Can’t tear our eyes off the screen. You two are superb together. The chemistry’s electric. It oozes on screen. Try to keep a cork in it though off-screen, would you?”
They had electric chemistry? Oozing electric chemistry? What drugs were people on? Elizabeth hit YouTube, searching for Hunter, and found about two dozen scenes. She watched them, one after the other. And there it was.
How had she been blind to this? The slow way she dragged her eyes over Summer, watching with an almost wonder to see what she’d do next. Elizabeth’s innate curiosity looked like something else, something far more interested.
When had Hunt ever looked that tenderly at anyone? Certainly not at Mendez. No wonder the gay fans were all over this.
Elizabeth glanced at the comments. Her eyes widened. Three thousand? She read a dozen. There was no denying the enthusiasm of the fans. They were hungry for more, begging producers for a relationship between the pair.