Casey looked up at the massive bulk of Blackfriars Bridge as they passed underneath it. Seeing Hannah again was not something she had prepared herself for. She tried to figure out how she felt about it, about her being engaged and happy. But she couldn’t. After it all happened, she cut off her emotions, got on a plane, and left. And she forced herself to forget all about it. She wasn’t Casey who’d been horribly wronged and then callously blamed, she was Casey the woman who was ready for a fresh start. It was moving on, kind of.
“I do like one of the actresses.” Casey was surprised she said it and felt instantly foolish.
“Which one?” David’s eyes widened.
“It’s ridiculous.” Casey’s doubts about talking about it—about acknowledging it at all—were reasonable. They’d only had a couple of days together and she knew next to nothing about Olivia.
“Why?”
“It’s a cliché. She’s a superstar and I’m her driver—the hired help who gets on her nerves by not being obedient enough.” Casey couldn’t help but feel sheepish. “We spent a few hours together having a great time on her first day, but we’ve mostly just given each other a wide berth ever since.”
“Sounds like someone has a little crush developing. So cute.” He poked her in the cheek playfully. He was just about the only person she knew who could get away with that.
“She’s gorgeous and she’s interesting—and also everything I’d normally run a mile from. But somehow I can’t stop myself wanting to know her better. I can’t explain it, and yeah, I know its laughable.”
“Well, I’m not laughing. You know me, I’m always falling in love with someone—the bus driver, the guy who delivered my groceries last night. I’m the last person to laugh at you for falling for someone—”
“I’m not falling for her,” Casey cut in, wishing she hadn’t said anything. “I’m just saying I had a good time when we spent time together and now I’m curious about her. She’s all ice queen one minute and super sweet the next. It’s just something I need to get out of my system.” Casey was not “a little crush” kind of person. It was annoying she couldn’t seem to shake it off.
“You know the best way of getting something out of your system?” David grinned back at her. “Go for it. You’re only going to know each other for two weeks. No strings. And no reason not to make use of the fact that you’re staying in the same hotel. It would be a great holiday romance story to tell everyone at the party.”
“I don’t work that way, you know that. And Olivia’s far too famous to be interested in someone like me.” Casey paused. “I don’t want someone who lives to be adored and whose main worry is whether their ass is in award-winning shape. It’s not my vibe.”
Being with Hannah had taught her that. She could never understand the way some people chased after celebrity, and she definitely wasn’t a happy-in-the-limelight kind of person.
“What do you know about her? Is she single?”
“I’m not interested in whether she’s single or not.” Casey told the white lie. “All I know is she’s from Brooklyn. She blows hot and cold, has a smile that could heat a room, and she looks great in a towel.”
“Huh?”
“We shared a sauna.”
“You are a weirdo. You’re literally the only person I know who wouldn’t have googled the hell out of that woman.” He pulled out his phone and tapped at the screen.
“Olivia Lang. Has played Susie Collins on The West Side for three years. Most popular character, resident heartbreaker. Blah blah blah. Aged thirty-four, born in Brooklyn. Came to acting late.”
“Don’t.” Casey put her hands over her ears. “I don’t want to know. If she ever wants me to know any of that stuff, she’ll tell me. I don’t need to spy on her.”
“Okay, okay.” David put his phone away and looked at her. “She’s a Gemini by the way. Might explain the hot and cold.”
“Stop.” She punched his arm playfully.
“Was single, but recent rumors suggest something might be going on with her costar, Billie something or other.”
“David.” She said his name loud enough that several people turned around to look at them. “I said I don’t want to know.”
“Sorry.” He looked contrite, but Casey knew he wasn’t.
They sat for a moment watching the riverside. Casey hated the feeling in the pit of her stomach that the news that Olivia and Billie might be dating had caused. She didn’t like Billie at all. She seemed hard and her friendliness seemed inauthentic, but she was poised and very beautiful. And of course that was exactly what someone like Olivia would be looking for.
“Mercy was asking me if she should get in touch. She and Naomi want to see you, but they’re not sure you want to see them. I said it might be hard for you to find time. I was trying to buy you some cover if you didn’t want to see them.”
“Thanks. I know I should see them, and it’d be good to see Mercy. I’ve missed her. I’ve been meaning to set something up. It’s just been busy with my mom and the job.”
Casey felt a tension in her chest. She was usually much more honest than this with David. She had been busy, but the job had given her more free time than she’d expected. She had the time to catch up with friends, she just felt nervous about doing it. She hadn’t exactly left things in the best place with everyone.
“I still can’t help feeling like I don’t know who to trust. I don’t know what Hannah told people, and I don’t know how much of it they believed. And I know I’m making myself lonely by staying away from people, but I’d rather be lonely than a fool.”
“I get that, babe. Take your time.”
“Being back here is strange, that’s all. Too many not good memories.”
As they passed under the Millennium Bridge and St. Paul’s came into view, Casey suddenly felt tired. A year ago, she had lost her job, her girlfriend and her sense of self. Running away had let her avoid thinking about it. Coming back made it impossible not to. No wonder she was happy to have an Olivia Lang-shaped distraction.
Chapter Eight
The bar was slowly filling up with guests, and the noise had Casey wondering if she might be better off taking her drink up to her room. She had her mom’s folder of bills open on the small table in front of her and was slowly working through it, trying to figure out what had been paid and what hadn’t. It had to be done, but it wasn’t the best way to spend an evening. She took a long pull on her beer before standing and stretching, feeling an ache in her lower back. The hours she was spending in the driver’s seat weren’t doing her body much good.
Another cheer erupted from the conference room along the corridor from where she was sitting. It wasn’t helping her concentration to know that Olivia and the others were just fifty yards away being questioned by a roomful of adoring fans. Judging by the cheers and applause, it was going well. She thought about David’s comment about the fans throwing underwear and the cast being asked to sign breasts and wondered how close that was to the truth. It sounded raucous—but not that raucous.
She lifted a hand to the waiter in a gesture that signified she was stepping out for a minute. He gave her a matching wave. A wave that Casey understood meant that he would half-watch her stuff, but if anything went missing while she was gone it wasn’t his fault.
She headed down the corridor to the room where all the noise was coming from. The large sign outside made it very clear it was a VIP, ticket only event, but no one was guarding the door. She slipped inside and lined up against the back wall with several others who had presumably arrived too late to secure a seat.
Olivia was sitting with the rest of the cast behind a long table that was set on a raised platform. She looked incredible. A midnight blue shirt, buttons open at the neck showing off the soft, smooth skin that Casey couldn’t help but remember from the sauna. Her hair was in a messy bun. She looked relaxed as she laughed along
with the audience at an answer Louise had given to a question Casey hadn’t heard. Rows and rows of velvet-covered chairs sat facing them—probably about a hundred or more. Every chair was occupied and every head was facing the stage, where Billie, Liam, Louise, and Olivia were sitting alongside a short-haired woman in glasses who seemed to be directing proceedings.
“Is it true that you’re filming some scenes here in London?”
The question came from a woman on the front row who sounded a little breathless.
“And is it true that Susie and Phoebe are gonna get together? Because I’d totally love that.” She laughed and the audience broke into claps and cheers.
“Speaking as Phoebe, I think she’d be down for kissing Susie slash Olivia in whatever storyline the writers can dream up.” Billie stepped in to answer before any of the rest of them could speak. “I mean, look at her.” She fanned herself with her hand. “I think our chemistry would make that storyline sizzle.” She gave Olivia a long look and a big smile before sitting back in her chair looking satisfied as the audience sounded their approval.
Casey couldn’t help the pang of jealousy she felt watching Billie compliment Olivia so confidently. Olivia seemed to take in a breath before leaning forward.
“We’re excited about shooting here. All we’ve been told is that Susie has some business to deal with in London.” She smiled. “I mean, of course she does, she’s always up to something exciting. We’re filming at the St. Pancras hotel—which is gorgeous by the way—and the Eurostar terminal. But none of us know what’s in store for season four. We haven’t even seen the scripts yet, so any speculating about who’s sleeping with who is just gossip. And Phoebe is married so that wouldn’t be at all appropriate of Susie.” She flashed a smile at the fans, along with a well-timed shrug as the audience laughed along with her. Casey wasn’t in on the joke, but she assumed that Olivia’s character wasn’t someone who cared what was “appropriate,” and would happily sleep with a married Phoebe.
Seeing Olivia there next to Billie and among the fans who adored her—flirting, chatting, and finding characters cheating on each other funny—reinforced Casey’s feeling that she needed to bury her crush on Olivia. And then pour concrete over it. Olivia lived a life that was a million miles away from her own. And Casey was glad to be reminded that any spark of interest she might have imagined Olivia showing her these past few days, was just like this—her being charming because she was an actress and she was expected to be nice to people.
Her mom’s debts were what needed her attention. She was here because of that, not to torment herself with thoughts of how much she might have liked to get to know Olivia better. She slipped out of the room and back to her table in the bar. She picked up her beer. A couple of gulps and it was gone. She signaled the waiter for another before opening the binder to take out the next bill.
* * *
Olivia had sat signing autographs and posing for selfies for as long as it took to make sure everyone had what they came for. The line of fans for the others had dwindled a little quicker than hers, and Louise and Liam had just taken the chance to slip away, giving her a small guilty wave as they left. For some reason, Billie had hung around, moving to the chair next to hers and joining in with photos and conversations as if she had a right to. Olivia was in no position to tell her to leave, but it annoyed the hell out of her.
As the last of the fans said their good-byes and were ushered out of the room by the studio people, Billie turned to her.
“Let’s get a drink. I think we deserve one after the day we’ve had. We could hit the bar upstairs, or we could go out somewhere. I noticed a couple of cute old pubs not too far away. Could be cozy. And we could make sure we got seen, call some paparazzi. Good publicity for the show.” Billie angled her head as she spoke. When she ran the tip of her tongue across her upper lip, Olivia understood that she was flirting rather than just being friendly.
The drink part sounded good, just not with Billie—and definitely not with a bunch of paparazzi watching them. It wasn’t that Billie was overly ambitious, indiscreet, and surgically enhanced—or at least that wasn’t the entire problem—it was that everything about her seemed calculated somehow. And Olivia thrived on straightforwardness. She was from Brooklyn after all.
She smiled inside at the memory of Casey being very straightforward with her, and how it had pushed her buttons precisely because she’d forgotten what it was like. Her business, her life in LA, was all about pretending.
“I’m pretty tired—”
“But isn’t it your solemn duty to take the new girl under your wing and show her the ropes? We could develop our characters over cocktails,” Billie interrupted, putting a hand on her arm as she spoke. Her eyes were wide and expectant.
“I’m sorry, Billie, I’m not in the mood. I want a long bath and time to relax. We have another early start tomorrow. I think I’m just gonna get something sent up to my room.”
“I’m not used to people saying no to me. I’m kind of irresistible, or so I’m told.” It was a joke and also absolutely not a joke. Olivia didn’t doubt that Billie believed it.
“I’m sure that’s the case, but I have this really boring rule about not mixing work and pleasure so it might be easier for us both to just stay friendly.” Olivia kept her tone even.
“I was being friendly. I was suggesting a friendly drink between friendly colleagues who are probably going to get pretty friendly on screen this coming season. It kind of makes sense for us to get a little closer, no?”
It was the second time Billie had hinted about their upcoming storyline and it made Olivia’s heart sink.
“I know you’re single, Olivia, or I wouldn’t suggest it. And I know you care as much as I do about the show doing well.” Billie smiled a confident smile. “So I’m gonna keep asking. I think we’d be good together and I’m pretty persistent when I have a good idea.” She picked up her jacket and moved off toward the door, her hips swaying as she walked. At the door, she looked back and winked, expecting that Olivia would be watching her leave.
Olivia waited a minute, wanting to be sure that Billie had gone before making her way along the corridor to the small, open-plan bar next to the reception area. It wasn’t as nice as the one upstairs, but she wasn’t going to stay. All she wanted was a glass of wine to take upstairs to drink while taking that bath.
As Olivia headed to the counter, she spotted Casey sitting alone at a table in the corner. She had her head down, reading something, and the table in front of her was strewn with papers. She hated the fact that her heart began beating a little faster. Ever since that morning—when Casey had responded far too well to Louise’s flirting—Olivia had tried not to think of Casey, tried not to want to talk to her, tried not to respond to the sight of her in exactly the way her body was now doing.
She needed to make good on her intentions, take her wine upstairs and leave Casey be. Especially since Casey hadn’t shown a scintilla of interest in talking to Olivia for almost two days and Olivia’s continued interest was becoming embarrassing. She had never been one of those women attracted by someone who seemed out of reach.
“Hey.” She spoke softly, but Casey still jumped a little in surprise. Olivia raised a hand. “Just saying hi, not trying to disturb your night off. And you look kind of busy anyway.” Olivia already wished she hadn’t come to the table. Her nervousness around Casey was not something she enjoyed.
Casey looked up at her. Her face carried a hesitant expression, but her dark eyes held Olivia’s gaze steadily. They were captivating. Olivia meant to walk away, but found she was still standing there.
“Yeah. Some paperwork I have to deal with. I figured if I did it with a beer, it wouldn’t feel like such an awful way to spend the night.”
Olivia wanted to say something in response, but no words came.
“You looked like you were having fun in there.” Casey angled her
head toward the corridor containing the conference rooms.
“You were there?”
“I snuck inside for a little while. I could hear the cheers. I was curious. A friend told me the fans throw their underwear and ask you to sign their breasts. I wanted to see if it was true, but it was all very sedate and civilized.” Casey smiled and Olivia liked the way it made her feel.
“Were you disappointed?”
“More like relieved.” Casey smiled again. Just a small one, but it encouraged Olivia somehow.
“Do you want another drink? I was going to get one…” Olivia pointed at the bar.
Casey lifted her beer bottle. It was almost empty. For a beat, there was silence between them.
“Sure.” Casey leaned forward and tidied the loose papers into a single pile before closing the ring binder and moving it to the floor. She closed a paperback book that had been spread open and placed it on the papers. Olivia watched Casey’s hands move. She had beautiful long fingers, like a pianist. Olivia blushed and prayed it wasn’t obvious.
She sat in the chair next to the space Casey had cleared for her and signaled the waiter. She ordered the large glass of Malbec she’d been craving and a beer for Casey.
“Is it a lot of fun for you?” Casey asked.
“The meet and greet?”
Casey nodded.
“Usually. I mean, it all depends on the crowd, the questions, the energy, the emcee. But most of the time, I enjoy them. The fans are passionate and funny and they have a good sense of what works well on the show—and what doesn’t—and that keeps us on our toes. This last season we had a few writing issues and you hope that no one notices, but they always do. And the fans say what the studio needs to hear, what we—as the actors who have to say the lines—would never dare to say.” Olivia stopped herself. She didn’t want to be unprofessional and more than that, she didn’t want to bore Casey. “I’m sorry. I know you don’t watch it. And I shouldn’t complain. It’s a great show. It’s been good for me.”
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