by Anna Paige
She gave me a bland look. “Have I ever not supported you, even when you were being a dumbass?”
“No. You’ve never let me down, which is why I love you so freaking much.”
“And I never will.” She leaned across the table and hugged me. “But I do want to go on record and say that this is one of those dumbass moves that only a true bestie would have your back on.”
“Noted,” I chuckled, picking a strand of her hair off my lips as we hugged it out like sisters. “God, I missed you. You’re not ever allowed to ditch me for the high seas again, understand?”
“Noted.” She chuckled against my shoulder and ran a hand over my hair.
“Ahem.” Gavin cleared his throat behind us, having just walked in. “Is this a sex thing? Because I’m territorial over chicks just like I am with other guys.”
Evie and I let go, laughing.
I turned toward him. “I never thought you’d be the jealous type. Or averse to a little girl on girl action.”
He took the bags to the kitchen and looked at us through the open space above the bar. “One: girl on girl is great as long and neither of the girls is mine. And two: I’m not jealous—I have no reason to think there’s anyone out there who could take you away or that you’d want to go if they tried. Insecurity causes jealousy. I’m not insecure; I’m territorial. Meaning I know without a doubt that I’m yours and you’re mine, and what’s mine is to be protected.”
He went about unpacking the bags from my favorite Thai restaurant, the apartment filling with the smells of curry and ginger.
Evie leaned across the table, her eyes following him as he moved around the kitchen. “Is it wrong that I found that kind of hot, even though it was a tad on the caveman side?”
I was watching him too, unable to stop myself. “Nope. I’m sitting here debating between cussing him out and sitting on his face.”
“Would it really be that far out of character for you to do both?”
I chuckled. “Nope, that sounds like me.”
“A word of advice, from one bestie to another; wait till you’re sitting on his face and then you can start cussing. Worst case scenario, he gets mad and tries to buck you off—which could still be really good if you lock your thighs around his head.”
We were laughing hysterically when Gavin came back to the table, and he had the good sense not to ask why.
Eleven
Gavin
The next morning on the set, I left Kaiti running lines with Jenna and headed out to find Bryce. I’d tried to call him the night before while I was giving Kaiti and Evie space to catch up but he hadn’t answered. I texted, but that went ignored too. He was pissed, I knew he was, but I was confident I could fix it if he would stop being such a baby and talk to me.
Bryce was kind of a dick sometimes, but it wasn’t intentional. He’d been in the business so long he didn’t know how to be any other way. He was a good guy deep down. He was my friend. Had been long before Savages hit the big time, taking all of us along on its rise into the stratosphere.
He was the type who would bust your balls all day on set and nitpick every syllable you uttered, then spend his off hours kicking back beers with you like none of it ever happened. He could compartmentalize better than anyone I’d ever met.
I rounded the corner to the back hall and angled toward his office. The entire corridor was flanked by offices that weren’t being used for shooting, most of which were empty. But there were a few used by the producers and execs who spent time on the set. Bryce’s was at the end of the hall, as far away from the production noise as possible.
“No, no y. It’s K-a-i-t-i Oliver. Do I need to spell the last name too?” His tone was frustrated. “Good. I need everything you can find. If there’s so much as a jaywalking ticket, I want to know when and how fast she was walking when it happened.” A pause. “Top priority, Gus. I expect everything on my desk by Monday morning.”
Why the fuck was he having Kaiti investigated?
Just like that, I went from apology mode to I’ll-fucking-break-your-face mode.
I didn’t knock as I entered, pushing the door wide until the knob hit the wall unit behind it with a resounding crack. “What the hell, Bryce?”
He muttered a quick goodbye to Gus the spy and hung up, giving me a bland look. “I take it you’re here to apologize for that little stunt you pulled yesterday?”
“Nah, not really feeling it right now.” I stepped in front of his desk and pointed at the phone. “Care to explain why you’re having Kaiti investigated?”
His brow furrowed and he looked at me like I was stupid. “Because I need to know what I’ve gotten myself into. I rushed this, focusing on getting her signed for the rest of the season without knowing a thing about her aside from my gut instinct that she was the perfect Meadow.” He motioned for me to sit down but I refused, crossing my arms and waiting him out. “Look, I think it’s great that you two hit it off, and I even dig the protective thing you have going, but this is a business, Gavin. I don’t have the luxury of trusting people not to affect my bottom line just because I like them.”
I glared at him over his ridiculously expensive desk. “So, you’re telling me this isn’t a witch hunt? That you’re not looking for something to use against her if she decides not to play ball the way you want? Or maybe you want insurance because Mikey fucking assaulted her and you’re worried she’ll sue.” I already knew what the investigator might find, but I couldn’t picture Bryce stooping so low as to use it against her. Then again, I would have never believed he’d have her investigated in the first place, so clearly, I didn’t know him well enough to make that call.
He typed something into his laptop then spun it to face me. “See those files? Recognize any of the names?”
There was a file for every single cast member—me, Skylar, Jenna, Michael, every actor with recurring status. Hell, even Joey had a file and he wasn’t part of the cast. “What the hell, Bryce?”
He turned the computer back around and closed it. “It’s not a witch hunt, Gavin. I do the same thing for everyone. Not because I want leverage but because if there’s anything out there that needs burying, I’ll fucking bury it. To protect the show from scandal and to protect the actors whose fuck-ups have the potential to bring this gravy train to a screeching halt. And yes, the scuffle yesterday reminded me that I need to know more about her, because I know enough to expect stupid shit like that from you and Mills. Your files are full of skirmishes dating back to before you hit fucking puberty. But I don’t know anything about her, Gavin. And I need to. For the show’s sake. And for hers.”
I looked at the closed laptop then back to his face. He wasn’t the least bit apologetic, and I wasn’t sure I even faulted him for that at first. Then something occurred to me. “Wait, so when I told you about the shit I pulled when I was fourteen, did you put that in your little file?” We’d been hanging out drinking when I spilled about that.
“No. I knew before you told me,” he admitted, finally—finally—looking remorseful, at least for that particular betrayal.
“Fucking perfect.” It was nothing huge as far as secrets went—at least by current standards—just a youthful transgression that I’d always felt guilty about. But I’d never told anyone other than Bryce, and to find out he not only knew already but had filed it away somewhere for future use…that was more than I could forgive.
“I was still flattered that you trusted me enough to tell me about it. And nothing on that computer is visible to anyone’s eyes except mine. It’s triple password protected and encrypted so that any attempts to copy to another source will render it useless.” He offered me a sincere look, one that I couldn’t bring myself to trust. “I would never put any of you at risk, ever. This is my family I’m protecting.” He tapped the laptop with one hand. “And you of all people should know that.”
I blew out a breath and shook my head, angry that he’d done this and lied about it all this time, but more than anything, I was angr
y that I’d let myself get played. “The only thing I know for sure anymore is that there’s not one person in this business who I trust. Not. One. Not anymore.” I jabbed a finger in his direction and told him in a deadly tone, “Do what you want with my file, I couldn’t care less. But Bryce… And you better hear me on this… If you fuck with Kaiti, if you use anything in her past to hurt her in any fucking way, I’ll make you wish you were never born.”
I turned and walked out of his office, feeling the final thread of connection to this job, to these people—to this life—snapping as I went.
Kaiti
Evie arrived right after Gavin went to find Bryce, so I took her around and introduced her to everyone. Michael smiled and shook her hand, being quite friendly as he sent a few apologetic looks my way. I ignored the looks and quickly escorted Evie away to find the other actresses.
We found Skylar and Jenna in makeup, both finished and chatting about being able to work on location next week. There were beach scenes in the next episode, apparently. I probably would have known that if I’d picked up my script from Joey, but I hadn’t seen him yet that morning.
“Hey, guys. Sorry to interrupt.” I walked in with Evie only a step or two behind. To her credit, she was handling the introductions well, so far. When properly prepared, she knew how to keep her shit together. I’d simply blindsided her with Gavin.
“Hey, girlie!” Jenna smiled, nodding at Evie in acknowledgment. “We got a new cast member?”
Skylar waved us over, using the same perfectly friendly smile I’d gotten my first day. “Well, hey there. Kaiti, who have you brought us this morning?”
Evie was blushing furiously but held her hand right out for Skylar to shake. “I’m not an actress. I’m Kaiti’s best friend, Evie.”
Skylar shook her hand. “Great to meet you, Evie. I’m Skylar but you can call me Sky.” Her tone was so syrupy sweet I wanted to gag.
I hadn’t gotten around to warning her about Skylar, but I made a mental note to do so as soon as I got a chance.
Jenna stepped up next. “Nice to meet you, Evie. Such a pretty name. And I love how you pronounce it with a short e at the beginning; Ev-ie not Eve-ie. Makes it unique.” She bumped Skylar’s shoulder then tossed me a crooked grin. “Everyone around here has cool names—like these two—and mine is so boring.”
“Well, mine is short for Evangeline, which always sounded too grown up. I tried Vange but that sounds like a lady part or something, and Angel would have worked, but it felt like false advertising, so I decided to stick with Evie. And for the record, there’s nothing boring about you.” Evie shook her head and looked between Skylar and me. “I don’t know about Kaiti and Sky, but I’ve never been part of the Victoria’s Secret fashion show.”
Jenna blushed.
Skylar put an arm around Jenna and nodded, still acting the part of the gracious hostess for Evie. “She’s got a point there, boring old Jenna.”
I nodded in agreement, nudging our pixie-like costar as Sky stepped away—probably to avoid touching me as I slid my arm around Jenna’s waist and hip bumped her. “Never had anyone strap angel wings on my back, either.” I squeezed her to my side as she chuckled.
“Okay, this time it has got to be a sex thing.” Gavin was propped against the door frame, smirking.
“Get out, Gav! I was just about to unhook Jenna’s bra,” Evie joked, tossing an exasperated look at him.
“Got to get the angel wings off first, Ev,” I laughed, pretending to wrestle with something on Jenna’s back. Even Sky was cracking up by this point.
Jenna held her hands up, laughing so hard she could barely talk. “Ticklish…Kaiti, stop…gotta pee…”
I took a step away, howling with laughter as Jenna scurried out of the room, right past Gavin who was barely holding it together.
Evie stopped laughing long enough to say, “If this is how it always is around here, I may need to take up acting.”
I was looking at Gavin as she spoke and something in his expression closed off. I gave him a questioning look, complete with ‘are you okay’ head tilt, and he gave me a ghost of a smile, a reassurance that didn’t work in the least. I knew him well enough to recognize when something was wrong. I could see it written on his gorgeous face, though he was doing an admirable job of hiding it. His smile was almost enough to fool me when he grinned and said, “Sorry to break up your orgy. I’ll see you all on set in twenty.”
Just like that, he was gone.
Evie caught me staring after him, but before she could comment, Jenna walked back in, wiping at her face.
“Shit. I laughed so hard my eyes watered and now my makeup is a mess. Where’d Lydia run off to?”
Skylar shrugged. “Probably to spackle Michael’s ugly mug. She usually saves him for last because he’s such a baby about it.”
“Fuck,” Jenna muttered in her almost fairy-like voice, which officially made it the cutest f-bomb in history. She moved over to the row of lighted makeup stations and leaned close to the mirror. “I’ve never been good at this crap.”
“Here, let me,” Evie said, crossing the room and guiding Jenna into one of the makeup chairs. “I worked for several years doing makeovers in a little boutique one town over from where Kaiti and I grew up.” She pulled out various brushes and set to work.
Skylar looked over at me with a raised brow and muttered, “She just made a friend for life. Jenna really does suck at makeup, poor thing.” Her tone was so conversational, normal and free of her usual snark, that I forgot myself for a moment and spoke to her like a friend.
“I can relate. I can do basic looks but nothing fancy or outrageous. Of course, I’ve never really been in a position to need it until recently.”
Sky was watching Evie work, nodding ever so slightly in approval at whatever she was doing to Jenna. “Yeah, I kind of envy women who don’t care about their looks.”
Wait, did she just imply…?
“Don’t get me wrong, beauty has its perks. Half the men I’ve dated over the years—wealthy, powerful, gorgeous men—probably wouldn’t have given me a second glance if I’d been sporting a messy bun and yoga pants when we met,” she scoffed softly. “Okay, maybe one or two would have. But not the big players like…well, you don’t know most of them except Michael and Gavin, of course. They always liked me painted and polished so they could show me off.”
My stomach began to turn at her words.
She saw my pained expression. “I know, I feel like hurling when I remember the Michael thing too. He turned out to be such a spiteful, controlling ass. Lucky for me, I wised up, so that one was short-lived.” She did a faint head shake like she was trying to chase away the memory. A second later, a sly smile crept across her face and I instinctively knew I wasn’t going to like what came next. “Now Gavin…that one lasted longer. It used to get him so hot to see me all dolled up in expensive couture with even pricier lingerie underneath.” She made a little sucking sound between her teeth. “And let me tell you…when Gavin Lane takes a woman to bed…”
I coughed hard, half choking as a wave of disgust hit me. Skylar put a hand on my back like she was offering comfort, but I didn’t want her touching me with the hands she’d once used on Gavin. I backed up, ducking under her arm as I muttered a quick, “I’m fine,” waving as though the setting spray Evie was using on Jenna had somehow gotten to me before I hurried off to the restroom.
Evie came busting in a few minutes later, calling out to me as I hid in one of the stalls and tried to get myself together.
“Kaiti?” She tapped on the stall door. “You okay, girl?”
“Yep. Fine. Be out in a minute,” I croaked out over the lump in my throat.
She scoffed. “Try that again without sounding like you’re about to fucking cry.”
“Evie.” My voice cracked on her name.
“Open the door.” Her voice was sharp. “Now, dammit.”
I reached up and slid the latch open, gathering some tissue in preparation for the f
resh wave of tears. God, I hated crying. Hated it. An emotional tear here and there was one thing but this was too much. It was consuming and heart-rending and fucking painful. Joyful tears, fine. Tears on the set, okay. Even getting misty at a particularly poignant commercial wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. These tears, though, they were the bad kind.
And I hated them.
The door swung open and Evie stepped into the cramped stall. “Kaiti-bear, will you please tell me what’s going on?”
“I’m not cut out for this shit, that’s what’s going on,” I told her in a wavering, weepy voice that made me want to kick my own ass. I was so not a crier. Dammit.
“Which part? The acting part? The being in front of a camera part? The dating a superstar part? You have to be more specific so I know which pep talk to give.”
Tap, tap, tap.
“All of it. I don’t belong here. I’m just not that person. The one who can shoot scenes in front of a camera without being self-conscious, the one who can forget a cast member intentionally hurting them during a scene, the one who is okay with having casual conversations with other actresses where the topic is how said actress used to fuck your boyfriend.”
Hot tears rolled down my cheeks, dripping onto my lap as I stared at the tile by Evie’s feet. “I can’t turn off my emotions like they can. I can pretend to be someone else in front of the camera but at the end of the day, I’m still me, and things still matter to me. I don’t think that’s how it works for most of these people, though.”
Evie crouched, putting one knee on the floor for balance. I tried not to think of all the germs as I swung my head up to meet her gaze. “Okay, I have a lot of ground to cover here, but let’s start with who the fuck hurt you during a scene and why nothing was done about it.”
I shook my head, chin trembling. “Michael, but something was done about it. Gavin punched him in the face and got kicked off the set.”