“If you won’t take money, I have one final idea about how I can repay you.”
“Is that so?” She felt an inexplicable blush creeping onto her cheeks.
“It’s so perfect that you’ll have to say yes.”
He sounded as confident and helpful as he had the first time she heard his voice, and she recognized that he’d slipped into his customer-servicey sales-training persona. He wasn’t the guy who wanted to steal her dog away; he was the smiley guy who got paid big bucks to make people more productive.
“Stay at my apartment,” he continued. “While you film the show. Stay here during the week so you won’t have to commute with Spencer. We can work it out so that I won’t be there at the same time, and you’ll have the place to yourself.”
Her jaw dropped. It was impossible.
It was an amazingly generous offer, sure, but one that had strings. Maybe Griffin would be able to claim eminent canine domain if Spencer started spending time in the apartment again? It didn’t matter that, as it was now, she and Spencer were going to have to leave Rexford hours before she was due on set thanks to his car sickness. There was no way she was taking him up on it. It was relinquishing too much control, something she refused to do in any aspect of her life.
“No, I couldn’t—”
“You know how bad it’s going to be for him if you have to go from the car right to the set. I hate the thought of him feeling sick and then getting forced to perform. He might start refusing to get into the car after a few bad trips. That actually happened to me.”
“I’m not forcing Spencer,” Justine protested. She rolled her eyes at Ruth.
“Okay, whatever. The point is you know this is the best option for him. For both of you.”
It was true, but she wasn’t about to admit it.
“That’s a really kind offer, but I don’t feel right about staying at your place.”
It felt too kind. Weirdly so. He was up to something.
“Well, let me know if you change your mind. I’m heading to Salt Lake next week so it would be easy to at least give it a shot. See how it works.”
“No, we’re good. But thanks again for the offer. I have to run, though, some customers just came in,” she lied.
Sienna ran to the door and jingled the bell. “I need help picking dog food, please,” she said in an overloud voice.
“Thanks again. Bye, Griffin.”
Justine sighed and placed her phone on the counter.
“He’s a persistent bugger, huh?” Ruth asked. “He offered you his apartment? Are you sure this guy doesn’t have a crush on you?”
“Have you seen his picture? I think it might be mutual,” Sienna added.
Justine pretended to gag. “Hardly. He’s a control freak who wants to steal Spencer and thinks he can fix everything with his money.”
“You have a photo?” Ruth held her hand out. “Gimme. Now.”
Justine flipped through her phone to find the least attractive photo of Griffin. There were four images, and she thought she remembered one shot that made him look like he had a double chin, but as she scrolled through the photos she realized that he looked good in all of them.
“Whatever,” she said, showing the photo where Griffin and Spencer were gazing at each other under an arch of yellow leaves, looking like they were posing for their holiday card.
“This is him?” Ruth said as she zoomed in on his face. “Woman, what’s your problem? First, take this man’s money, then steal his heart. Does he have a girlfriend?”
She shrugged. “Maybe.”
“A boyfriend?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
Ruth pointed at the photo with her mouth hanging open, then looked at Sienna for confirmation.
“Right?” Sienna agreed. “That’s what I said.”
“Guys, have you forgotten that he lured me to Brooklyn under false pretenses, then tried to take Spencer back? He’s not exactly trustworthy. Plus, I’m not in the headspace to date again, especially someone stalkery.”
“I don’t know,” Ruth said, dragging her finger around on the photo to examine the details. “I’d be willing to gamble on an ass like that.”
“Okay, enough, we’re done here. Sienna, you probably have a pack of dogs to walk, and Ruth, don’t you have a shop to worry about?”
“Fine, fine, I’ll go,” Ruth said with a pout. “What’s next for our star?”
“We have a table read coming up, where we go through the first script. And yes, everyone is going to be there.”
“You better take notes. I want all the gossip. Who’s mean to their assistant? Who’s had too much work done? Who’s still in the closet?” Ruth asked with her eyes shining.
“I’ll do my best, but don’t forget we have a job to do. A major, important, big-fucking-deal job.” Her fingers had actually trembled as she signed the contract the studio had sent over after her meeting with Anderson.
“Psh, he’s a natural,” Ruth said as she and Sienna headed out the door. “He’s going to be great.”
chapter thirteen
I’m sorry, bud,” Justine whispered as she wiped off Spencer’s mouth and chest with mango-scented wipes. “I know you hate this part.”
Spencer twisted his face away just enough that he registered his unhappiness with the grooming, but not so much that it was impossible for Justine to take care of it. They were parked on a side street a few blocks from the Brooklyn warehouse that was the main set for The Eighteenth. It was the first time she would be meeting the cast and crew for a table read, and instead of calmly reciting “I can do this” mantras, Justine was trying to keep dog vomit off the hot pink Boden blazer she’d borrowed from Ruth.
They’d left Rexford early enough so that Justine could deal with her new-route nerves and Spencer would have time to shake off his queasy feelings, but a rubbernecking delay and a wrong turn meant they were late and frazzled.
When she was satisfied that Spencer would pass Anderson’s inevitable kiss test, they set off for the giant warehouse that was going to be the main set. She could tell by the way he was walking with his head down and tail tucked that he was still woozy from car sickness.
Justine’s heart started thumping faster when they rounded the corner and she spotted the line of luxury SUVs with blackout windows idling near the brick warehouse. She’d seen the names of the other actors affiliated with the show in the scheduling emails and managed to remain calm, but for some reason the line of fancy cars made it all real for her. She fought off her own queasy feelings.
Justine spoke quietly to Spencer as they got closer to the lime green door. “Spence, no matter what, you’ve got this. Okay? You’re my best boy, and we’re going to have fun during this adventure. No pressure to be perfect. Just do your best.”
Spencer watched her with wary eyes and twitched his tail in a wag so sad that she almost marched him right back to the car and left. But it would be worse for him to sit through another two hours of travel than go through the table read. All he had to do was look cute while the rest of the cast read through the script, and Spencer was cute even when he was hacking up breakfast in her back seat.
She opened the green door slowly and walked into a swirl of activity. The building had a high ceiling, so the room buzzed with energy and noise, so much so that Justine stood against the wall for a moment to take it all in. She could see a city-street-scene set beyond a dividing wall that looked so authentic, it felt like she’d traveled back in time. There were groups of people clustered together laughing and others running around with worried expressions. A long table dominated the far wall of the building, and Justine could see tented name cards next to bottles of water. She spotted Ted in his baseball cap sequestered in a corner, having a furrowed-brow conversation with two other men. Anderson was holding court in front of a group of people with Taylor standing at his elbo
w.
“Excuse me,” Justine said to a petite, unbelievably pretty brunette woman passing by her. “Do you know where I check in? With him?” She pointed to Spencer, who was alternating between short pants and a closed-mouth worried expression. His ears were plastered against his head.
“Oh, this must be sweet Ford!” the woman replied in a crisp British accent, dropping to her knees next to Spencer. “I’m so excited to meet you.” She looked up at Justine and smiled, and Justine realized that her dog was being loved up by none other than the star of a recently ended cable fantasy series Netherworlds. It was Claire Cameron, aka the beguiling mermaid Hydranea, who was now playing Anderson’s put-upon wife, Myrna.
Justine knew that despite the fact that Claire’s perfect face had launched a thousand cosmetic campaigns, she was now a colleague of sorts and she had to swallow her urge to fangirl. She held out her hand and pretended like Claire was just another person on the street who thought her dog was cute. “Yup, this is Spencer, and I’m Justine. Nice to meet you.”
She gave a little wave instead of taking Justine’s hand. “I’m Claire, lovely to meet you too. Honestly, I’m not sure who you should talk to. It’s a bit of a madhouse at the moment, but I did see someone in a Humane Federation shirt over there.” She gestured to a long table filled with catering platters. Claire refocused on Spencer. “We have a moment together in the pilot, young man. Make me look good, okay?” She patted him on the head and disappeared into the crowd.
Justine headed toward where Claire had pointed, only to be stopped every two feet by admirers. Spencer took the cooing and petting in stride, gamely wagging every time someone interacted with him, but Justine could tell that he was still feeling awful. She hoped no one else could tell.
“Hey there, you’re the reason I’m here, I guess.”
Justine turned around and was greeted by a tall, bald Black man whose muscles rivaled Anderson’s. His black golf shirt strained across his massive chest as he reached his hand out, so much so that the Humane Federation logo over his heart was warped. The giant man looked more like a bodyguard than an animal safety rep, but given that he was responsible for the well-being of creatures ranging from mouse to elephant on various movie and TV shoots, she could understand how his size was an asset.
“Hi, I’m Malcolm Franklin,” he said, taking her hand in his massive one. “Great to meet you.”
“I’m Justine Becker and this is Spencer, also known as Ford.”
Malcolm turned sideways and squatted down near Spencer. He muttered a few soft words and Spencer gave him a halfhearted wiggle.
“I’ve been watching him,” Malcolm said as he petted Spencer. “Is he nervous?”
Caught. Justine swallowed hard.
“No, he gets really carsick and we had a two-hour drive. He should snap out of it soon.”
“Are you going to do that drive every time he’s needed?”
Justine nodded.
“Have you tried herbal remedies? A calming wrap?”
“We’ve tried everything. But don’t worry, we’ll figure it out.”
“You a trainer?”
“Not professionally.” Justine squirmed. Maybe it made sense to start saying she was, since Spencer’s role on the show made it sort of true?
“He’s a good-looking dude. Unique.” Malcolm gestured to Spencer. “Does he get a lot of work?”
“This is our first series, but he, uh, we do mainly live work.” Justine knew she had to pad Spencer’s résumé so that no one would question how they ended up on the show. Ted had already fired one dog; she didn’t want to give any hint that perhaps Spencer wasn’t qualified either. And besides, doing tricks for customers at the shop was basically a live performance.
“Huh. First timer. Should be interesting,” Malcolm replied. “Anyway, as you know, I’m here for him. I’ve seen all the scripts and I’ve already raised a few concerns about the action they want, especially that off-leash location shoot. But I need you to keep me informed too. If something feels wrong, tell me. Got it?”
Justine nodded, thankful to have such an important ally who was just as invested in Spencer’s safety as she was. But she also knew that if anything about her coaching or Spencer’s performance didn’t feel right to him, he could have them pulled from the production. There were several organizations that looked out for animal actors, and based on her research the Humane Federation was the toughest one to please.
“Thank you, I will.” She shot him her brightest smile.
“Looks like we’re getting started,” Malcolm said as people began sitting down throughout the room. “Nice to meet you two.”
They started to walk away, but Spencer stopped in his tracks and hunched over with his head close to the floor. His whole body heaved once, twice; then an awful gurgling cough echoed around the room. A few people turned to watch as he vomited the contents of his stomach onto the shoes of the second-most important person on the show.
“Oh my God, he’s still . . . I’m so sorry . . . let me get . . .”
Malcolm held up his hand to stop her and pulled a roll of paper towels from the backpack she hadn’t even noticed he had on. “It’s fine. Bodily fluids are a hazard of the job. But you need to get this under control, okay? We can’t have him like this on set.”
“Of course, it won’t happen again. I’m really sorry. But are you sure I can’t . . .” She made a cleaning gesture in the air.
“I’m fine, don’t worry. Feel better, Ford.”
Justine ducked her head and settled in a chair at the back of the room on the end of a row so that Spencer had space to spread out. She felt a tap on her shoulder.
“Justine, welcome,” a quiet voice said.
It was Ted Sherman, looking dressier than usual in a navy blazer and button-down, paired with his ubiquitous black baseball hat.
“Ted, hi!” She was still processing the vomit, so she put on a fake smile. “We’re so excited to be here, thank you again.”
“And we’re thrilled to have you both. But we need you up front.” He pointed to the long table where Anderson, Claire, Taylor, and the rest of the cast were settling in and flipping through the script.
“Really?”
He nodded. “Spencer is an integral part of the premier. We want him close for this. Come.” Ted beckoned Justine to follow him.
“Well, Spencer has a ton of skills, but he failed reading comprehension . . .” She trailed off as she gathered her bag and Spencer’s leash. She glanced down at her dog as he skulked behind her.
“You’re right over there,” Ted said, pointing to a tent card at the end of the table, next to curly-haired tween star Noah Ryland, who was playing Anderson’s son.
“Cute dog,” Noah said as Justine settled next to him. “But he’s got something . . .” The boy gestured to his chin.
Justine looked down at Spencer and saw the twin trails of slobber coming from his mouth, so thick that they almost looked like they were made of gelatin. She fished through her bag to find a tissue, but Spencer plopped onto the ground and lowered his head so that the drool pooled around him like modern art.
She spotted an ’80s soap opera actor her mom had always loved making his way to the dais. Then she looked down the line of actors next to her and into the crowd of people on folding chairs in front of them.
Only then did it hit her that she and Spencer were way out of their league.
chapter fourteen
Hi, Griffin, it’s Justine.”
“What’s wrong? Is Leo okay?” His voice sounded worried.
“He’s fine.” She glanced in her rearview mirror and saw that he was resting his head on the door, staring out the window as if he knew the uncomfortable feelings were about to begin again. It was too cold to be outside, so they were sitting in her car in the parking spot around the corner from the warehouse. “I’m lying. We just h
ad our first meeting for the show and he was really carsick the whole time. He puked on the Humane Federation guy’s shoes.” She closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against the steering wheel. She wanted to just blurt out the big ask and get it over with, but she couldn’t find the nerve.
“Oh no,” Griffin said. “That sucks. I’m sorry to hear it.”
“Yeah, we’re sitting in my car getting ready to head back and I was—”
“You’re shooting in Red Hook, right?”
“How did you know that?”
“I did some Anderson recon and found out. You’re really close to my favorite pub.”
Justine’s stomach rumbled at the thought of getting something to eat before they headed back. She’d been too nervous to eat a bite during the table read. “Do they do takeout? I can get some food and eat it in the car on the way home.”
“You’re hungry? I could go for an early dinner, too. Want to meet me there? I’d love to see Spencer while you’re in the neighborhood.”
Justine stopped fiddling with the enamel dog on her key chain. Did Griffin just ask her out? Hot or not, she was sticking to the promise she made to herself to avoid getting involved with anyone until she had her own weirdness figured out.
“But how can we go to a restaurant with Spencer?”
She heard his tail whip against the seat at the mention of his name. He was a solid reason not to go to dinner with Griffin.
“That’s why it’s my favorite—they allow dogs! And everybody knows Leo there—I mean Spencer. They’ll be psyched to see him.”
Justine quickly tried to come up with another excuse about why she couldn’t meet him, but there was no way out. “Okay, I guess we could meet for a quick meal while I wait for the traffic to die down . . .”
The call to Griffin was supposed to be just two minutes of groveling, then asking to stay in his apartment on shoot days. But here she was getting dragged into family reunions at his local hangout. Maybe paying for his meal would make the ask less painful?
“Perfect. It’s called the Yard Bar, on Conover. Plenty of parking on Reed, right around the corner. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
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