—
AS SHE HOPPED around her room, trying to prepare for dinner, Grey’s phone rang.
“Fuck,” she muttered, throwing herself onto the bed and army crawling across it in order to reach her phone in time.
Renata.
“How’s it going, honey?”
“So far, so good—I think,” she answered truthfully. “Except I fucked up my ankle pretty badly.”
“I know, I saw him carrying you over the threshold like goddamn Prince Charming. Nice work.”
“I didn’t do it on purpose,” Grey protested, sitting up on the bed.
“Oh really? You looked pretty pleased with yourself,” Renata teased.
“Renata!” Grey laughed, exasperated. “Did you just call me to make fun of me?”
“Only partly. I’m glad I caught you before you went out. I just got off the phone with the Golden City execs.”
Grey stilled, her blood pounding in her ears. Of course. Why else would she call so late on a Friday?
Renata seemed to pause for a lifetime.
“And?” Grey breathed.
“And…you got it. They’re sending the contracts over first thing Monday.”
Grey shrieked and leapt off the bed, remembering her ankle a moment too late. Her yelp of joy quickly turned into a howl of pain as Ethan burst through the door.
“Are you okay?” he asked, wild-eyed.
She nodded, sitting back down on the bed with a hard thump.
“That’s incredible, Renata. I can’t believe it.”
“You deserve it, angel. Really. Congratulations. I’ll let you get back to your knight in shining armor.”
Grey prayed that for once Renata’s voice wouldn’t carry.
“Love you.”
“Love you, too. Be good.”
Grey ended the call. Ethan was still frozen in the doorway. He met her eyes, and a slow smile crept across his face. He didn’t have to hear the other half of the call to figure out what was going on.
“You got it.”
His exhilarated expression made the news sink in even further. She nodded and covered her face with her hands to shield him from what had to be the dopiest grin of all time.
The next thing she knew, he’d crossed the room in a few long strides and lifted her in his arms, crushing her against his chest. Her legs dangled inches from the ground as he spun her around.
“Congratulations,” he murmured into her hair. He suddenly tensed, as if realizing too late that his show of affection was a little extreme.
He slowly released her, careful to give her time to prepare her good foot to take her weight. The slide down his body was agonizing. As soon as she was steady on her feet (or rather, foot), he took a determined step back and cleared his throat.
“I mean. I’m not surprised. You were amazing when—um.” He choked, the memories of his “help” with her audition clearly overwhelming him, the same way they did her.
“Thanks, it doesn’t feel real,” she said quickly, hoping to squash the glazed look of panic growing in his eyes.
“I should—we—are you? I have to…” He backed toward the door and dashed out of it before successfully completing a sentence.
Grey knew that she should hurry up and finish getting ready. Instead, she lay back on the bed, allowing herself to bask in her victory for a few glorious seconds.
She had the part.
And secondly, but not insignificantly, she could make Ethan Atkins tongue-tied without even trying.
GREY HAD HAD JUST ENOUGH to drink at dinner that she didn’t even protest when Ethan lifted her out of the seat of the golf cart and carried her to their front door. It was faster and less awkward than fumbling with her crutches, she reasoned, with the added bonus of being able to get a direct hit of the warm, intoxicating smell of his neck.
She now understood why ancient empresses preferred to travel via litter, carried for miles through the desert on the shoulders of burly, handsome men. She felt dainty and all-powerful at the same time. “I could get used to this,” she muttered, half forgetting that he could hear her until his throaty laugh vibrated next to her ear.
“Oh yeah?”
“Doesn’t fame mean your feet never have to touch the ground again?” she replied quickly, trying to cover her slip. It didn’t totally make sense, but it was the best she could manage under the circumstances.
Ethan expertly maneuvered the door open and deposited Grey on the couch.
“Only if you’re lucky.”
Grey tried to put her foot back up on the coffee table, only to realize that her attempt had been thwarted by an ice bucket holding a bottle of champagne that definitely hadn’t been there when they left. She looked up at Ethan, bemused.
“Did you—”
He shook his head, and passed her the card. She turned it over to see it was addressed to her. Inside, there were a few concise but warm sentiments of congratulations from Audrey.
Tears started to fill Grey’s eyes. She was already an easy crier when sober, but get a few cocktails in her and she’d start weeping if she saw a bug that was just a little too cute. Ethan took the card back from her, giving her a chance to hurriedly wipe her eyes and compose herself.
“Should we open it, or are you good for tonight? We haven’t even opened the one they gave us when we got here; we’ll never catch up at this rate.”
Grey considered the question. She was buzzed, no doubt about it. She could probably handle one more glass. It was her night, after all. She should let herself celebrate.
With a jolt, she realized that under normal circumstances, she’d be celebrating with Kamilah. Her nervousness about accidentally revealing the truth about her relationship with Ethan had led her to straight-up avoid her. Their typical flood of texts, already affected by Kamilah’s travels, had slowed to a trickle.
“Let’s open it. I need to make a call first, though.”
Grey half hobbled, half hopped out to the patio and sat down on one of the lounge chairs. She had no idea what time zone Kamilah was in, and was shocked when she picked up the phone on the second ring.
“Emilyyyyy!” she trilled, shouting over what sounded like a raucous party in the background. “I can’t talk long, but gimme one second!”
At the sound of her voice, Grey was a goner. Already primed, she immediately burst into tears. Once Kamilah was somewhere quieter, her voice returned, exhilaration turning to concern as soon as she heard Grey’s tears.
“Are you okay? Did something happen?”
Grey choked out a sobbing laugh. “No, it’s good,” she burbled. “I got it. I got Golden City.”
Kamilah screamed so loudly that Grey had to hold the phone away from her ear. She started laughing again, uncontrollably this time, the emotions that she kept locked up around Ethan taking over with a strength that almost frightened her.
“I can’t really talk, either. But I needed to tell you. And I miss you. And I love you.”
“I love you, too. That is so fucking sick. Please tell me you’re getting your back blown out by your movie star tonight to celebrate.”
Grey laughed even harder, tears still streaming down her face.
“We’re at a free luxury resort in Palm Springs right now, what do you think?” Again, not exactly a lie.
Behind her, she saw the door to the villa open and Ethan’s silhouette carrying the champagne bottle and two glasses. Grey hurriedly said her goodbyes as he approached her.
“Was that your mom?”
“Um, no, it was Kamilah,” she called back, trying to camouflage her sniffles.
He sat across from her on the other lounge chair and handed her one of the glasses. She cringed, knowing that she must look like a puffy, snotty mess. When her face caught the light streaming out from the doorway, he looked like he’d seen a ghost. Great.
“Are you okay? Is everything…do you need to be alone right now?”
She shook her head, sniffling, wishing she had something to wipe her eyes and nose on besides her arm.