“Hey, you’re pretty good,” Lexy says with a smile.
“Thanks.”
“You must have had a very specific idea for this character in your script and the actor playing him to mesh so well.”
“I really did. You might say the other actor was born to play this part.”
After a few more run-throughs, Lexy and I change into our costumes for the scene—exercise clothes and running shoes—and put our hair in ponytails.
We arrive at the Smoothie Bar just in time to see Tarek walk in as per his usual Saturday routine.
“Excellent!” I tell Lexy. “Rolling has started on Tarek. Now we’ll jump up and down in the parking lot, and then we’ll enter the scene.”
Lexy and I get out, and I make us run around the car and jump up and down before dashing inside.
The door dings when we enter, but Tarek doesn’t look up. He’s second in line behind a large man wearing a too-tight sky-blue T-shirt that can’t quite cover his butt crack.
“I just love the smoothies here, Giselle,” I enthuse in a loud voice. “You’re going to love them too.”
“I think I will. We tend to like all the same things.” We laugh together on cue. Tarek whips around and spots us.
The smile that widens his lips and sparkles his eyes bathes us in his delight. His happiness at seeing Giselle is genuine, and my heart warms with hope. He gives up his place in line to come stand with us.
“What are you two doing out so early?” He tweaks the end of my ponytail and I swat his hand away with a frown.
Giselle reaches back and adjusts her ponytail band, arching her back so her breasts press forward. “We were out for a five-mile run and now we’re in the mood for a power smoothie.”
“Oooh, yeah.” He nods like he does five-mile runs and then wants a power smoothie all the time too. “Five miles, huh?” Tarek lifts an eyebrow at me. Leave it to him to notice that little inconsistency. The line said two miles, which would’ve been far more believable of me. Lexy is already going off script.
“Yes. Five miles,” Giselle says, and, perhaps realizing the discrepancy between the lines in the script and what she’s saying, adds, “I had to drag her the rest of the way. She wanted to quit in the first mile!”
We all laugh. Great. Now we’re back to putting me down in defense of her credibility. Whatever. I can handle it. Though maybe I should’ve tied her salary to her performance.
“That sounds more like the Marissa I know.” Tarek smirks, and Giselle looks relieved. “Although isn’t that your car in the parking lot, Rissa?”
The three of us peer out the big front window at my Toyota RAV4 framed in the center of it. Oh, no. I forgot to move my car. Although, in my defense, I would’ve thought Tarek would be too self-centered to notice.
“Yes,” I say evenly. “That is my car. Thank you for noticing. With you on the lookout, no one will be breaking into it, will they?” I sweep some errant hairs out of my eyes. “We—I—knew I wanted us to have smoothies after our run, so I parked here because we were bound to end up here anyway. We just ran two and a half miles out and then ran back to get our total of five miles in.”
Tarek nods, smiling. “Ah, yes, that makes sense.” His eyes laugh at me like it doesn’t make sense at all. “So you were going to quit after a mile and your car was all the way back here?”
“I planned to go back for the car.” I swallow. “I considered Ubering.”
Tarek throws his head back and laughs.
“Parking here was the only way to get this one to run that far, am I right?” Giselle swats me playfully on the arm, and I try to laugh good-naturedly at myself.
“Yup, that’s me. Anti-exercise. Pro-heart disease. Go team.” I raise my hand for a high five. Tarek and Giselle just look at me.
“So, Giselle.” Tarek pivots so he’s facing her and shoulder-blocking me. “Do you have plans for the rest of the day?”
“I do. Big ones.” She simpers.
“Oh? What are you doing?”
Magazine editor meeting, I prompt silently. Her eyes light on me then shift over to Tarek. Oh no.
“I’m saving a kitten from a house fire.”
Tarek’s mouth drops open. “You are?”
I want to smack my forehead. Or Lexy’s.
Tarek’s brow creases. “How do you know there’s going to be a house fire? Or a kitten in it?” He doesn’t wait for an answer but barrels on. “And if you know there’ll be one, shouldn’t you be preventing the fire and picking up the kitten now?”
The people in line in front of Tarek complete their order, and we’re forced to move up.
“She’s doing a photo shoot for a kitten in a house fire, she means.” I laugh nervously and roll my eyes like that should have been obvious.
“Yes! That’s what I mean.” Giselle laughs and swipes her forehead, which has produced actual beads of perspiration.
I shuffle forward. “She’s donating her time and considerable photography skills to a public service campaign for fire safety.”
Tarek nods, his eyes widening. “That’s really cool.”
“It is,” Giselle agrees.
I gesture toward the counter for Tarek to place his order. He steps up and requests his usual tropical sunrise kale smoothie and insists on paying for Giselle and me as well. I get a raspberry concoction with chocolate syrup added and Giselle orders a mango coconut smoothie.
When we get our orders, we take them to a table by the window and sit.
“You ordered a chocolate raspberry milkshake, you know.” Tarek hands me a straw.
“No, this is a health food.” I stick my straw into my drink and sip my chopped fruits and syrup.
“There’s no way that’s a health food.” He crowds into my space, his elbows taking up more than half of the tiny table.
“It doesn’t taste good. Therefore, it’s a health food.” I lean away from him and his table-hogging ways.
“Mine’s a health food. Coconut and mango are good for you,” Giselle interjects. Tarek and I both look at her.
“Here, let me taste yours, Rissa.” Tarek makes a grab for my smoothie. I hold it out of arm’s reach.
“No way. I don’t want your germs on it.”
“You can taste mine,” Giselle offers and slides hers in front of Tarek.
He takes a sip out of her straw and swallows. He grimaces. “Thanks. Wow. Way too sweet.” He returns the smoothie and winks at Giselle, who smiles.
She scoots her chair closer to Tarek, and he seems to recollect his interest in her.
“So can I join you in this fire safety photo shoot this afternoon?”
She plays with her straw and smiles. “Now that could be fun.”
I glare at her. Yes, it could be fun. If it were really happening. But I’m not going to set fire to a house and throw in a kitten just so Tarek can watch Giselle pretend to take pictures. I shake my head vigorously at Giselle out of Tarek’s sightline.
Giselle gets my signal and sits back. “But I’m sorry. You’d be too much of a distraction, and I’ll need to focus. Get it? Focus?” She smiles and glances at her phone. “Oh, look at the time. We have to go.”
“Already?”
Giselle and I file out from behind the table without answering.
“Bye!” she says. “It was great running into you.”
“Thanks for the health drinks,” I tell him.
“We’ll leave you wanting more!” Giselle says.
I duck Tarek’s suspicious expression and grab Giselle’s arm, speeding her through the door and out to my car with a smile plastered to my face. I wave at Tarek who’s watching us through the window, much too interested. We’re on the main road before I demand answers from Lexy.
“What was with the kitten in a house fire thing?” I explode.
Unbelievably, she completely misses my tone. “Wasn’t that a stroke of genius? I just thought we should make Giselle more likable. In movies if you can have your main character save a cat, the aud
ience has to love them. Who wouldn’t love a woman who rescues kittens from burning buildings?” She glances at my profile and seems to finally pick up a clue. “I just didn’t think it all the way through. Good save, though.”
I shake my head and push the accelerator down to rush through a very yellow light. “And what about what you said at the end? That we were leaving him wanting more?”
She worries a fingernail with her teeth. “Well, you said we were.”
“Yes, but we don’t want him—his character, in the scene—to know it.”
Giselle nods. “Okay. You can have the editing team cut that in post-production. I’ll do better next time.”
I put on my turn signal to go right and nod. “Yeah. Sure. I’ll just fix it in post.”
∞∞∞
Tarek Oliver
Our time together getting coffee was so short. I’m still not sure what happened there. Running into you at the Smoothie Bar was fate’s way of saying we should see each other more.
Can we get a do over?
Giselle Bisset
Marissa and I were talking about going to the movies. We could make it a double date if you wanted.
Tarek Oliver
Sounds great. Maybe a triple date if you don’t mind, with my sister and whoever she’ll bring.
Giselle Bisset
Perfect. See you soon.
So Lexy will be going onstage again. As Giselle wrote, in the unspecified “soon.” I decide Lexy and I need some serious improv work to avoid my ending up with another gigantic incontinent bladder situation or an endangered kitten to rescue.
I write several possible scenes and then have Lexy come over to workshop them. After a few hours of script memorization and improv, I feel like Lexy’s ready. Probably. I hope.
“The thing to remember,” I remind her, “is always to leave him—“
“Wanting more,” Lexy cuts in.
“Exactly. You’re trying to entice him, to tantalize him. His character, I mean. But you don’t tell him that!” I look at her sharply, and she nods. “The whole theme of your performance is that you’re making a promise on which you will never deliver.”
“Oooh, I like that.” She crosses her legs and scribbles a note on her script.
I don’t feel guilty for deceiving her, I tell myself, because she’s a working actress getting paid handsomely—I’ve been playing fast and loose with my savings—for pretending. That’s what she does. There is nothing wrong with it. Nothing at all. People have been hired for far more odious jobs in the history of the world. The end.
“What’ll my costume be?” Lexy chews on the end of her pen.
“Something elegant, yet subtle. I’ll check with wardrobe.” Wardrobe is my Visa. Luckily Lexy and I are about the same size. I’ll be able to wear the clothes I buy for her after the “shoot,” so at least I have that.
“We’ll meet at my house again before the…uh…performance to get you into wardrobe and prepare.”
Her face shines with excitement. “Perfect!”
Almost.
Chapter Twelve
Giselle and I arrive at the theater early. It’s one of those movie theaters that’s also a full restaurant with waiters delivering meals during the film, and I want a chance to look at the menu before the movie starts. And maybe get a drink. Although I’m beginning to think this isn’t the best way to see a movie I’m excited about. We’ll be interrupted by the servers taking orders and refilling drinks. As I scan the list of titles above the ticket counter, I discover I’m in luck. I’m not interested in any of the movies listed, so whichever film Tarek insists on buying us all tickets to is fine. Whatever movie will make him want to cuddle up to Giselle—and for her to spurn his advances—is the real right answer.
Giselle and I accept menus from the ticket seller and sit in the bar studying them as we wait for the rest of our party to arrive. Five minutes later, Kya appears at our table.
“Hey!” I jump up and hug her. Giselle waves at her coolly, and Kya returns the wave with a slight frown.
“Where’s your date?” I pull another chair over to our table so Kya can join us.
She shakes her head and sets her purse down. “Didn’t bring one.”
“Why not?”
She shrugs. “Well, I thought I’d just pick one up here.” She scans the empty bar for non-existent candidates.
At my horrified look, she gets defensive. “Tarek does it all the time.”
I nod. “Yeah, but you’re not Tarek.” At her offended look, I cover her hand with mine. “That’s a good thing. I’m not Tarek. None of us is Tarek. Not even Tarek himself, you know. His sex magic fades in the light of day. Ask any of his former conquests.”
Kya blows out a breath and her shoulders sink. “I know. I don’t know. What am I doing?” She looks from me to Giselle, who doesn’t say anything, and puts her head down on her arms. “I’m sorry I’m crashing your dates.”
“Don’t be silly,” I say. “I’m glad you’re here.” I glance at Giselle, and she perks up, picking up my cue.
“Yes, I’m glad you’re here too.” She slides her eyes to me and then back to Kya. “I am, right? I’m very glad to see you. And alone too.” She slides her chair closer to Kya’s. “We should get to know each other better. Much better.” She slings her arm around the back of Kya’s chair. Surprised, Kya turns toward Giselle. I take this opportunity to shake my head vigorously at Giselle for going off script. “Plot twist?” she mumbles out of the side of her mouth to me. I shake my head harder. Fortunately she abandons the attempted lesbian story complication and straightens, pulling her arm back into her own air space. She offers Kya a friendly grin with no trace of sexual attraction, and Kya returns a confused smile of her own.
“Am I late?” Brandon appears at my elbow. “Looks like the party has already started.”
“Not at all.” I move to stand, and he kisses my cheek before I’ve fully gotten up. I wobble awkwardly.
“Sorry,” he says, reaching for me.
“No worries.” I smile and take his arm.
Tarek is right behind him, dressed in a gray suit and no tie. The top button of his white shirt is unbuttoned. I look him over, but he doesn’t seem to be concealing a gift. Maybe he thought better of buying something for Giselle. “So! Are we all here?” He glances up from counting the tickets in his hands. “Kya, where’s your date?”
“I haven’t found one yet.”
Tarek rolls his eyes. “You’re not going to find one here, either.”
“Why not?” She sticks her bottom lip out, ready for a fight.
“Because women seldom go to the movies alone. Even I wouldn’t expect to pick someone up here.” He darts his eyes to Giselle who arches an eyebrow at him. Good show, Lexy. “Not that I would do that at all,” he finishes. “Ahem, here, let me give you all your tickets.”
He hands the tickets around and refuses when Brandon tries to reimburse him for ours. “It’s on me, buddy,” Tarek says and claps Brandon on the back. Looking highly irritated, Brandon hands me my ticket.
“Suburban Killing Spree 7?” I say, reading it. Fear rises in my stomach, and I start breathing faster.
Tarek’s smile is smug. “Yup. Suburban Killing Spree 7.” He’s practically clicking his Cole Haan-clad heels with glee.
“I hate horror films. You know that.” There may have been a slight history there with watching The Ring at Kya’s house and not being able to sleep at that slumber party or ever again. Tarek knows this. He knows just holding this ticket I’m risking a panic attack. This must be his attempt to get me to stop cockblocking him with Giselle.
He furrows his brow like he’s trying to remember. “Do I? I must have forgotten. Besides, Giselle told me she loves them.” He winks at her.
“No, she didn’t,” I snap.
“How do you know?” He raises an eyebrow at me.
“Because I know she hates them.” I glance at Giselle who looks from me to Tarek and then nods slowly, agreeing
with me.
“Besides, I haven’t seen Suburban Killing Sprees one through six.” My heart is beating faster. I might actually be stuck seeing this thing. I’m going to have nightmares for months.
Brandon takes my ticket from me. “It’s okay, sweetheart.” He tries out the endearment on me, and it falls like a lead pipe tossed into the conversation. Everyone notices. “I’ll go change our tickets for something else. We don’t all have to see the same thing.” Brandon’s face shows a studied absence of affection for Tarek. His defense of me defrosts my panicked heart.
Tarek snatches both of our tickets from Brandon’s hand. “I was under the impression we were all going to a movie together tonight. That’s why I bought the tickets.”
“Yes, but my girlfriend doesn’t want to see this movie, and I’m going to make her happy.” He steps away from Tarek and the snatched-back tickets.
“Your girlfriend, is she?” Tarek looks from Brandon to me with a superior grin.
I can practically see Brandon’s blood pressure rising. “Marissa, I’ll get us seats at a different movie.”
Brandon is only trying to help, but he doesn’t know that I desperately want to stay with Giselle and Tarek. I can’t leave them alone. What crazy things would she tell him? And who would she think the invisible cameras would follow, me or her? She might drop the act completely if she thinks she’s off camera.
“It’s okay, Brandon.” I go over to him and loop my arm through his. I give it a pat. “Suburban Killing Spree…Seven…will be great. If I’m with you.”
He smiles at me. Kya claps and gives me a thumbs-up, and Giselle tilts her head at us and says, “How sweet.”
“Let’s go, people,” Tarek mutters as he herds us out of the bar toward the ticket taker.
We enter the semi-dark theater and find our assigned seats in the fourth row. I end up between Brandon and Tarek. Giselle is on Tarek’s right, and I’m grateful. From this position, I can keep tabs on Tarek and Giselle as well as be a barrier between whatever this growing aggression is between Brandon and Tarek. At first Kya starts to sit on Giselle’s other side, but I fear my best friend’s perceptiveness and want to keep her far, far from Giselle—and anything she could uncover about her. I wave her down to sit on the other side of Brandon on the pretext of being closer to chat and make everyone else slide down one so we’re still taking up the correct assigned seats.
Kittenfish: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romantic Comedy Page 10