And Playing the Role of Herself... (4 page)

Liz's anger had faded into a slightly shell-shocked expression. I doubted she'd ever polled that low in anything in her career. She stared at the script, and then gently closed it.
Uh-oh.
It was never good when Liz did things gently.
She stood, and looked at me for a long moment. The look on her face was wounded, as though I'd betrayed her somehow.
It killed me.
"Liz…" I didn't know what I would say, but I wanted to say something, anything, to stop that look.
"I don't want to talk to you right now, Caid," she said, holding up a hand. "I can't believe you'd…" She shook her head, picked up the script, and left the room.
"Goddamnit!" I spit out after the door had closed behind her. I tossed my script down and ran an aggravated hand through my hair. "I didn't do anything!" I rounded on Grant. "Thanks for the heads-up there, big guy. This may just fuck up our working relationship beyond repair, not to mention our friendship - a little notice would have been nice."
The room went deathly silent.
No one talked to Grant that way.
Especially not some ex beer commercial actress.
A very expendable ex beer commercial actress who picked an extremely stupid time to lose her temper.
Under the table, Robyn grabbed my thigh and squeezed hard, telling me without words to shut the hell up.
I took several deep breaths, trying to regain control. Grant watched me through narrowed eyes.
"Grant," Robyn said, in a tone I'd never heard before. It was soaked in promise, hinted at fantasies come true, and had every man in the room shifting uncomfortably in their seats. It was sex and heat and forbidden things…meant to get attention, then get Robyn whatever she wanted.
Damn. I needed a trick like that.
"Grant, do you think that Caid and I could talk with you privately after we finish the read? I think there are some things we need to discuss." Her smile promised everything that her voice had, and more.
Goddamn. And I thought Liz was good at this.
I pried her hand off my thigh and gently placed it back in her lap. Even though I was aware of its manipulative intent, I was far from immune to Robyn's sudden come-and-get-it aura. Her hand on that area of my anatomy…I could do without it.
She glanced at me quickly and I gave her a tight smile, assuring her that I was back in control of my suicidal, producer-insulting urges.
"Of course, Robyn," Grant agreed obediently, forgetting my transgressions for the moment. He looked around the table. "In fact, why don't we wrap this up? Read through the rest on your own, let Kenny or Brenda know if you've got any comments or suggestions before the writer's meeting, tomorrow at two. Okay?"
From the pitying looks thrown my way as the others left the room, I knew that I needed to administer a major dose of damage control.
Pucker lips and apply to insulted ass, STAT.
As the last writer filed from the room, I rose from my chair, ignoring Robyn's warning look.
I used to work in the service industry. Ass kissing was something of a specialty of mine.
Now I don't have the classic beauty of Robyn or Liz, but I have big, expressive green eyes and a full, wide mouth recently been deemed one of televisions twenty most kissable. I turned those big eyes on Grant and arranged my face in a properly sorrowful expression.
"Grant, I am so sorry I snapped at you. I was upset at Liz's reaction, but that's absolutely no reason to speak to you that way." I laid a hand on his arm. "I hope you can accept my apology. I promise it will never, ever happen again."
After several moments of me kneeling beside him, in essence begging for forgiveness, Grant nodded. "See that it doesn't, Caid. See that it doesn't."
"It won't." I squeezed his arm in thanks and straightened, smiling slightly at Robyn's surprised expression.
I guess I couldn't fault her for her surprise; until recently, she was under the impression that I had the intellectual and maturity level of a twelve-year-old.
I walked back to my chair and dropped into it heavily, the problem with Liz filling my thoughts now that my job was re-secured.
I forgot all about that kissing Robyn in front of a bunch of cameras thing. Not for long.
"Grant," Robyn was saying, "about this script. I really wish you had run it by us before okaying a script. This is something I'll need to talk over with Mark." Mark Goodhead was her agent, and Robyn would want to talk to him about how this might affect her future prospects, career-wise.
"Do you need to talk to someone, too?" Grant asked me, dragging me back in conversation. The look on his face was predatory - the wrong answer and my groveling would be for nothing.
Robyn had been in the business much longer than I had been, modeling for the first few years before moving into acting. Robyn Ward had enough of a name to decline this script and withstand any backlash. Caidence Harris did not. Despite the popularity of
9th Precinct
, I was still a newbie in the business, and couldn't afford to turn this down. Especially after being a colossal ass to a man who could break my career with a few casual words.
He knew it, and I knew it.
"No, I'm fine with it," I answered, as he knew I would.
In eight days time, when we started shooting for this script, I'd be kissing a woman on camera. It was up to Robyn who that woman would be.
##
We walked back to the trailer in silence after our meeting with Grant, my mind back on Liz, and how to fix the sudden rift between us. I'd think about having to kiss Robyn, or some other woman, later.
When I could freak out in private.
Robyn was busy on her cell phone, setting up a meeting with her agent. She told him they needed to talk about "an interesting opportunity."
An interesting way to put it.
We walked across the lot, and my steps slowed to a stop as we passed Liz's trailer. I felt a gentle pressure on my arm.
"I don't think talking to her right now is such a good idea, Caid." Robyn said softly. I hesitated, and she wrapped a long fingered hand around my wrist, stopping me from moving towards the trailer. "Trust me, Caid. Just let her be for a while. Try tomorrow."
She tugged lightly in the direction of our trailer and after a moment, I started walking again. We entered the trailer without speaking; I walked around, absentmindedly picking up the few things I'd left out that morning before the table read.
"Caid…"
I swung around, blinking at her. "Hmm?"
She looked as though she was going to say something, but then changed her mind. "So, what about this little trip you were talking about. I've got…" she looked at the bulky silver watch on her wrist, "two and a half hours, give or take."
"Oh." I stood staring at her stupidly.
"Were still on, right? You promised me lunch, Harris. Don't let me down."
My lips curled into a smile. "Well, I do hate to disappoint."
"Good. I hate to be disappointed." She held her arms out and looked down at herself. "Am I dressed appropriately for this trip?"
I cocked my head to the side, taking the offered opportunity to study her from head to toe.
"You're perfect," I said, and meant it. I looked at her feet. "Those look pretty comfy. Can you walk in those sandals?"
She raised both eyebrows. "Will I need to?"
"It's a good possibility," I replied vaguely.
"I can."
"Well then. Like I said - perfect." I grinned, and grabbed a small duffel bag off the table. "Let's get out of here."
I led the way to my baby; a metallic blue Audi S4 Cabriolet convertible. It had been my first big purchase after landing a four-year deal on
9P
, completely frivolous, impractical, and I loved it.
The top was already down - I'd left it down that morning when I drove in - and I tossed my bag in the back seat, pulling the driver side door open and sliding in behind the wheel.
Robyn moved around the car slowly, giving it the once-over. "Oh, Caid, I didn't know this was yours. I've wondered. This car is great." Robyn trailed a finger along the hood as she walked to the other side, pulled open the door and slipped in beside me. "I've always wanted a convertible, but I'm depressingly practical about things like that." She ran a hand over the dashboard with a delighted smile. "This is so cool."
Lucky damn dashboard.
I patted the steering wheel. "Twila, this is Robyn. Robyn, Twila."
Yes, I named my cars.
I know, I'm a dork, and I was definitely clueing Robyn in to my dorkiness, but I didn't really care. I was glad to be leaving the lot for a while, and happy to have her along as company.
She patted the dashboard, her face completely serious. "Nice ta meet ya, Twila."
The woman was perfect.
I shook my head and checked my pockets for the keys, grunting when I remembered that I'd left them in my bag. I reached back through the space between our seats and pulled the bag into my lap, grabbing the keys from where they were clipped in the outside pocket, and rummaging around a bit more before pulling out a faded baseball cap from a charity event I'd done a few years back.
"Might get a little breezy," I said, and handed the cap to her before zipping the bag up and tossing it in back.
"Thanks." She was already pulling her long braid through the hole in back and settling it on her head. "So, where are we going?"
She looked adorable. How can someone look so goddamn sexy and adorable at the same time? I shook my head again and started the car.
"To lunch."
She leaned back in soft leather and smiled. "To lunch."
The studio was on the western edge of Pasadena, and I hopped on 210 for a bit before exiting north on Lake Avenue. Having the top down made conversation difficult, but neither of us seemed to mind not talking, just enjoying the sunshine and cool breeze. We stopped once at a deli where I ran in and picked up a bag of goodies, then continued on through Altadena and on to Chaney Trail.
I caught Robyn's smile out of the corner of my eye when we passed the sign telling us we were entering Angeles National Forest. I let out a relieved sigh, not realizing that I had been worried she would be less than thrilled with our trip's destination. I pulled the car into a parking spot, noting with satisfaction that there were only a few other cars in the lot.
Robyn turned to me, still smiling. "So this is lunch?"
"Nope." I grabbed the deli bag, pushed the button to put the convertible top back up, and rolled up the windows, not wanting to tempt anyone with a wide-open car. "You're going to have to work just a little for your lunch."
I opened the door and got out, and she did the same.
"Hey," she said as she slammed the door. "No one said anything about working for my lunch."
I just smiled and started walking, confident she would follow. We walked through a small campground, following the signs to Millard Canyon Falls. The trail wound along a stream through a small, shaded canyon, and we reached the falls in less than 15 minutes. The area around the falls was empty; the owners of the cars in the lot must have hiked on further behind the falls to the mine.
I led us off the trail, over a few boulders, and under a tall oak tree near the canyon wall, plopping myself down on a flat rock. Robyn folded herself gracefully beside me, staring at the fifty-foot tall cascade of water not twenty yards from us. The stream was high from recent rains, and the falls were impressive. We hadn't spoken once during the short walk, but the silence had seemed comfortable, and not at all strained.
I opened the deli bag, and the crinkling of paper attracted Robyn's attention. She looked at me expectantly.
"So this is lunch?" she said hopefully.
I pulled two sandwiches, two bottles of water, a slightly greasy bag of kettle chips, an apple, an orange and a brownie out of the bag, along with some napkins.
"This is lunch." I handed her a sandwich and a bottle of water. "Apple or orange?"
"Orange, please."
I handed her the orange, and took a swig of water as she unwrapped her sandwich.
She peeled back the bread, frowning slightly. "Roast beef?"
"I've got turkey and avocado, if you'd rather. I'll take that one."
She was still looking at the sandwich. "What if I'm vegetarian?"
I had taken another drink of water and stopped mid swig. I lowered the bottle.
"Are you?" Shit. I should have asked, instead of just assuming…
"Hell no." She took a huge bite of the sandwich, chewing happily for a while and finally swallowing. "I just wondered how you knew I liked roast beef."
I sighed in relief. "You just seemed like a roast beef kind of gal."
She stopped eating for a moment, contemplating that. "I don't know if I should be offended by that or not."
"I didn't mean…"
"Caid," she laughed, and took another bite, talking around it. "I'm kidding."
"Oh."
We sat in silence for a while, eating our lunches and listening to the splash of the water against the rocks. When I was finished, I balled up the wax paper my sandwich had been wrapped in and put it back in the bag. Popping a chip into my mouth, I leaned back on my elbows and closed my eyes, crunching slowly.
"How was Brazil?" I asked eventually, opening my eyes and sliding them over to her. "You know they showed you almost as much as Josh?"
She laughed, and leaned back next to me. "Caid, you wouldn't believe it. It was insane. I'd look across the court during this intense point, and the camera that was supposed to be pointed at the players was pointing at me. And god, every time we'd go anywhere, this huge cadre of photographers would follow…"
"That seems to happen to the two of you here in the States, as well."
"To some extent, yes, but nothing like that…Josh loves the attention, though." She shuddered. "Ugh. I can't stand it."
That surprised me. She seemed very comfortable in the spotlight, as though she liked it.
"Josh played well," I said, after a few more minutes of silence.
"He did, didn't he?" She tipped her head back and closed her eyes, catching a stray bit of sunshine through the leaves and giving me an excellent view along the smooth, kissable line of her throat and down to the hint of cleavage where the edge of her shirt dipped lowest. I looked away and cleared my throat.
"That match against Gruspania…that was a close one."
She smiled, her eyes still closed. "I was afraid he'd be so upset after that one…he's usually such a baby when he thinks he didn't play as well as he could have. He wasn't, though."
We were both quiet for a few minutes, before Robyn chuckled. "He wants to meet you, actually."
I looked over at her, perplexed. "He does?"
"Oh, he won't admit it, but I remember when I first started getting time on
9th Precinct
, and Josh was all excited that I'd get to work with Caidence Harris, the hottest Balentine Babe ever.