Rules of Seduction

by Jenna Mullins

  “He’s texting. Let’s move!”

  “What?”

  “Dani, we have to get out of here. He might be coming this way!”

  She looks around frantically and points toward a golf cart that’s about twenty yards away. She points back at us and then starts using really intricate and increasingly erratic hand gestures, like a baseball coach signaling to someone on base.

  “What are you saying? Just tell me, I’m right here!” I whisper harshly.

  “Let’s both run to the golf cart and get the hell out of here!”

  “Wasn’t that easier? Alpha team red . . . go!”

  I’m joking about the seriousness of this mission, but apparently Elise is not. She wraps a hand around my upper arm and hauls me out from under the table. My ankle scrapes roughly against the wood, and I let out a yelp in pain. She shushes me and pulls me away from Tate’s trajectory.

  “Don’t look back, just go!” she orders before hopping behind the wheel. I barely get my butt cheeks on the passenger side before she starts the cart up and guns it.

  Of course, “gunning” a golf cart means we roll away going about 10 miles an hour, max.

  Elise whips around corners and weaves between pedestrians in a desperate rush to get away from Tate.

  “Elise, I think we lost him. You can slow down!” I yell before my own hair slaps me in the face from the wind.

  “Just a couple more turns,” she insists. We skid around another corner, and I swear two of our wheels lift off the ground like a chase scene in some kind of action movie. (A really, really lame action movie, but still.) Elise is looking back to make sure our getaway was successful, so she doesn’t realize that not only are we about to drive onto a scene filming in one of the outdoor back lots made to resemble New York City, but we’re heading right for a very famous child actor from a very famous sitcom.

  “Elise, look out!”

  Elise whips her head back just in time to see the poor kid who stares at us like a deer in headlights. She yanks the wheel and we are thrown roughly to the right. I bang my elbow on the edge of the cart and wince in pain.

  “Shit! Hold on, Dani!”

  Now I know she’s no longer in control of the golf cart. We’re heading for the side of a building, and Elise furiously pumps the brakes. We’re going too fast for the brake to even register there’s a foot pounding on it, so we crash headfirst into a brick wall.

  “Oof!”

  Now I’ve banged my ankle, elbow, and knee in the past five minutes. Hanging out with Elise is going to leave me with permanent physical and emotional scars.

  Once we’re stopped, we realize that we are not alone. The entire cast from the scene we almost crashed through is walking toward us. And they don’t look happy. I start pushing at Elise’s shoulder.

  “Run! Go!”

  We can’t help laughing as we dump the cart and take off down the street. This running isn’t helping my hangover or my sore ankle, but I’m laughing too hard to care. Elise finally pulls us into a nearby bathroom, slamming the door behind us. We lean against the door and catch our breath.

  “That was the most intense thing I’ve ever experienced on a golf cart,” I say through deep inhales and giggles. Elise’s head is thrown back, and she is uncontrollably guffawing. I had forgotten that Elise had the loudest, most infectious laugh. She finally settles down long enough to speak.

  “I’m sorry. I can’t believe I almost ran over that kid.”

  “I know! I read that he makes over a hundred grand an episode. He could definitely pay someone to track us down and throw us in jail or something.”

  “Nah, he probably didn’t get a good enough look at us,” Elise promises. She wets two paper towels and hands me one. The cool water feels amazing on the back of my sweaty neck. This was the most I’ve exercised in a long time.

  When I spot us side by side in the mirror, I don’t know if I should laugh at our very different reflections or start crying out of pity for myself. Elise’s cheeks are pink, her eyes are sparkling, and her hair is perfectly ruffled, like she just came from frolicking on the beach.

  In comparison, my face is beet red and splotchy, my hair is stuck to my sweaty cheeks, and my chest won’t stop heaving. It’s yet another shining example of why Elise maybe shouldn’t have picked me to hit on her boyfriend.

  “I can’t believe Tate was three seconds from spotting us. I just talked to him at the main stage,” Elise says while fanning her forehead with her hands.

  “What did you guys talk about?”

  Elise stops fanning herself, a triumphant smile stretching across her cheeks.

  “He wanted to know if I would go to the Television Spotlight Awards as his date,” she tells me.

  “Wow, really? That’s a big deal. After the Emmys . . .”

  “ . . . It’s the biggest award show for TV stars, I know. Don’t remind me. I’m so nervous. I already have no idea what to wear!”

  “Is Tate nominated for anything?”

  “Not sure,” Elise answers after a couple seconds of silence. I want to joke that an award nomination is something a girlfriend should know, but I don’t. Elise leans against the hand dryer and focuses intently on my face.

  “What? Did I pop a blood vessel in my eye or something from breathing so heavily?” I ask.

  “No. It’s just that . . . I really think the TV Spotlight Awards will be a real turning point for me and Tate. It’s, like, three weeks away, and it’s a big event that he wants me to be at with him. And there’s this big party afterward where I’ll get to be seen by everyone. With Tate.”

  “Yeah, that’s awesome, Elise. He’s obviously planning for you to be around if he’s asking you to go to events in the near future.”

  “I guess. I just hope by then I’m really sure about him, ya know?”

  I nod, even though I’m not sure if I actually know what’s going on inside that beautiful head of hers.

  “Dani, can you please flirt with Tate one more time?”

  “What? Elise, I told you. He didn’t pay attention to me or any girl last night. He admitted to having a girlfriend. I think you can be sure about him.”

  “I wish I could, but I’m just not. I just need one more time. One more.”

  Elise’s eyes widen as if she’s a puppy begging for food. I bet it works perfectly on men and bartenders when she’s trying to get something she wants. And I hate that it’s actually working on me a little bit.

  “I don’t know, Elise. It’ll be kind of weird to throw myself at someone I have to see every day. I’m still trying to figure out how to do that with Camden, and my throwing was actually legit. I don’t want to embarrass myself. There’s only so many bathrooms I can hide in,” I say with a wave of my hand around our current location.

  “Please? I don’t want to beg but if I have to, I’ll get on my knees in this public bathroom. I swear.”

  I wipe the back of my hand across my forehead and take a deep breath. On one hand, the very idea of flirting with Tate after the Camden disaster makes me want to have a panic attack. But then I think about the golf cart getaway we just had, and it reminds me of all the fun—and trouble—we used to get into. Like this one time in seventh grade when we ditched school so we could go buy the new Harry Potter book. We sat outside the bookstore and read the whole thing, side by side.

  I look at Elise’s pleading face and with a sinking feeling in my heart, I know that resistance is futile.

  Rules of a Super Intern

  Learn quickly or perish.

  Everyone is cranky. Everyone is tired. Don’t take it personally.

  No one knows what they are doing one hundred percent of the time. Everyone is in it together.

  It’s okay to make mistakes, as long as it’s only once.

  There are such things as stupid questions.

  Caffeine is your friend.

  Be nice to everyone. Learn from everyone.

  For the sake of all that is good in this world, do not screw up coffee o
rders. That is worse than setting fire to an expensive piece of film equipment.

  Don’t, under any circumstances, set fire to anything.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Did you find those shoes Tate needs?” Imogen demands.

  “Yes,” I sigh. Even hearing his name now sends a tremor of nervousness down my spine. I can’t believe I agreed yesterday to once again flirt with Tate for Elise. Another round of “seduction tests,” as Elise is calling them. But I’ve been avoiding him, because what if Camden sees me faux-flirting with Tate and gets the wrong idea? Will I risk my chance with him? Do I even have a chance with him?

  I have this horrible feeling our little plan is going to blow up in someone’s face, and that someone’s face is going to be mine. And when I tried to find Camden after lunch, he wasn’t even there. I had printed out my script to give to him in person instead of emailing him, because he seems like the kind of dude who likes to have paper in his hands while reading. Maybe with an old-fashioned red marking pen. But one of the writers told me he had a family thing and was pulled off set. I wished I could have checked to make sure he was okay. And so far, I haven’t seen him on set today, which means that he might not be back yet—and, of course, work is way more tedious without the hope of seeing him. So I had to hand the script off to his assistant who assured me she would leave it on his desk for him.

  Now Imogen, who somehow manages to pull off the hot pink bandanna that’s holding back her voluminous dark curls, looks at me with an expression that almost, just almost, reads satisfied.

  “What about the contact number for the guest star’s agent?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Copies? Coffee? Cookies?”

  “The three C’s? All with Lowell’s assistant,” I reply.

  Imogen raises a skinny black eyebrow. “Wow, Dani. Looks like you aren’t completely useless.”

  She walks off toward the main prop room to get some items for tomorrow’s setup. I turn to go hover (more like cower, really) near Lowell in case he needs a different pencil—Imogen mentioned that sometimes he does that just to make an intern run around. As I walk, I enjoy the fact that Imogen actually acknowledged that I’m kicking ass today. And after the disaster of the last three days, it’s a nice feeling.

  It might have been the broccoli and blueberry scone Brit made me choke down this morning—or maybe it’s the speed with which I’ve been running away every time I see Tate—but the happy result is that I have somehow apparently become Super Intern. Maybe I’ll get a cape.

  I walk onto the forest set and immediately spot Camden on the outskirts of where they lit the scene, talking to Lexi with their faces inches apart.

  Seeing them that close reminds me of when Camden was only inches from my own face. But the memory that it brings is better—the memory of when there was no space between us. He must be prepping Lexi for the scene they’re about to shoot because he looks very focused (and very hot), and she looks very bored (and also gorgeous, if I’m begrudgingly honest). I take my spot behind Lowell just as the scene starts, and I try to rehearse what I’ll say to Camden when I get to talk to him.

  I’d never seen a second of the show until my first day as an intern, and based on the scenes I’ve watched being shot over the past three days, I gather that Lexi’s character, Sophia, is a very powerful vampire who’s constantly in danger of killing Austin, Tate’s character, because of some curse. I think. But Sophia also loves Austin. I think. But Austin’s best friend, Cal, loves Sophia.

  I think.

  “Dani, whenever you are ready to stop clicking your pen, just let us know. We’d really bloody appreciate it,” Lowell snaps at me. I didn’t even realize I had been messing with the pen I keep tucked in my V-neck at all times. There goes my Super Intern cape.

  Lowell calls for quiet on the set and both he and Camden huddle behind the camera to watch Lexi deliver a monologue. She’s dressed in an ethereal white dress that, with the hidden wind machine, looks like it’s moving on its own and her eye makeup is lots of blacks and silvers to make her look like a powerful vampire queen who could kill you with a single glance.

  But every time she tries to deliver the emotional meat of the monologue, a boring line about destiny versus love, it falls flat. “Austin might be my true destiny,” Lexi-as-vampire-queen says now, putting her hand against her heart, “but why would I be drawn to someone I’m supposed to harm? Someone I’m supposed to kill?”

  “Cut!” Lowell yells after the ninth take.

  “Okay, we’re going again!” the assistant director says. Camden stalks over to Lexi, probably trying to figure out why this scene is not coming together as it should. As he talks to her, I can’t help but stare at the way his hair is the perfect combination of messy and soft. Camden looks up, and I swear he smiles right at me before he focuses on his star again. I hastily look away, but I feel warm shivers run through me. Not only do I want to run my hands through his hair, I want to be there next to him, running the show and giving Lexi some direction . . .

  “Sophia wouldn’t be questioning her powers. She would be getting angry, not contemplative,” I mutter to myself.

  “What did you say?”

  I stand perfectly still, raising only my eyes. Lowell glares at me. I had been so busy focusing on Camden that I didn’t even realize he had come over to video village.

  “Nothing, sir,” I answer meekly.

  “You seem unhappy with the writing. Did you want to pitch a line, Miss Young?”

  I’d be excited at the prospect if he didn’t just snarl that question at me. Everyone is staring at me now. Some have smirks on their faces, while others look afraid for me.

  “I’d love for you to teach me how to play a character I’ve been playing for three seasons,” Lexi says in a sickeningly sweet voice, obviously relishing my discomfort.

  I can either wuss out and run away with my tail between my legs, or I can speak up and possibly get fired.

  Ah, what the hell.

  “It just seems like Sophia moping around talking about her powers and her love of Austin is out of character for her. She’s a strong vampire and a strong woman. Shouldn’t she be angry about the fact that she’s doomed to either murder the love of her life or avoid him forever?”

  No one says a word. If there were a pin nearby dropping to the floor, I’d hear it. But no one is telling me to stop, so I take another shaky breath and keep going.

  “I would maybe have her say something about fixing the problem or ways around the curse. She should be looking for a solution, not asking around for answers to questions she doesn’t understand yet. Maybe she can say something like, ‘This curse can try to keep me from the man I love, but hell hath no fury like a vampire scorned.’”

  “Yes!”

  I turn my gaze to whoever yelled, and lock eyes with Camden. He’s smiling at me just like he did at the party the other night, like I am the only woman in his orbit. It makes me feel like I’m the one with the powers. A vampire queen like Lexi—but more script writing and less blood drinking.

  Obviously I don’t show these dramatic thoughts on my face, even though my insides feel like they’ve turned to warm honey. I just give him a hesitant grin as he addresses the crew and cast.

  “She’s right,” Camden announces after turning his back to me to face the rest of the crew and cast. But he turns a bit, and brings me back into the conversation—including me with everyone. “Dani is right. Sophia isn’t some shrinking violet. She’s a warrior! She’s tasked with this curse, but she’s also supposed to save the world someday, right? At least, that’s what fans will find out in the season finale. Don’t tell anyone that! Spoilers!”

  That loosens up the crowd around the set and the mood seems to mellow out considerably. Camden is basically skipping over to me now.

  “I love it. Let’s use it. Or, some of it. I would change the line to, ‘If this curse gets between me and my man, it’ll wish it were cursed itself.’”

  I keep my smile str
etched across my face to hide the fact that I think Camden’s line is borderline cheesy. Everyone else seems to agree with him, though, so that’s the new line in the scene, and before I know it, Lowell calls action again.

  Lexi’s big moment is much better when she plays the pissed-off queen instead of the confused, scared princess.

  “But why would I be drawn to someone I’m supposed to harm? Someone I’m supposed to kill? If this curse gets between me and my man, it’ll wish it were cursed itself,” Lexi seethes in disgust, just the way I envisioned. Her delivery gives me goose bumps. And even though Camden’s edit of my line doesn’t work as well as it should, I still take pride that he liked my suggestion.

  “Cut! I love it. That’s a wrap. Moving on!” Lowell yells, instantly putting the room in motion. He catches my eye as he walks toward Lexi and gives me the slightest, subtlest nod of approval. My smile as he walks past me could power the cameras in the room for a full day.

  It’ll take about an hour to set up the next scene, and after the assistant director tells me I’m not needed, I decide to get some air and maybe brainstorm some ideas for Tower. Hopefully, my stroke of genius will carry over.

  As I head toward the tiny break room in the production office, Imogen appears. She walks with purpose, and I brace myself. I know she’s coming to scream at me about something, but before I can figure out what I did wrong, she’s already upon me.

  “Dani! We’re totally effed.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I was supposed to order fake snow last week for this scene,” she says, eyes looking borderline manic. “And when I was back in the prop room I realized I never had time to do it. We don’t have any for the big scene later today. We’re dead unless we figure something out immediately.”

  “We?”

  “Yes, Dani. We. You don’t think I’m the only one who’s going to get screamed at? Or fired? If anything, you’re in more danger here. I’ve seen people canned for a lot less.”

  I’m stunned. Imogen is the one who screwed up and now she’s trying to scare me?