This is exactly where I did not want this conversation to go. What I just told her has nothing to do with George but I realize anything I say to the contrary will make me sound overly defensive and somehow prove the point. I take a calming breath before speaking. “Agreed. But George didn’t make the girl I met at the audition disappear and he definitely didn’t send a complete stranger to my apartment last night, Souk. So I’m not sure how he’s relevant.”
She removes her sunglasses and wipes them with her top. “I’m not saying he’s relevant to that situation. I mean you used to spend all your free time with George. I’m just saying maybe you’re focusing too much on stuff that you normally wouldn’t? You’re a very driven person, Mi, and when you decide to do something you tend to get—not obsessed exactly, but preoccupied, and now you suddenly have all this time on your hands.”
“So you’re saying none of what I’ve told you would have bothered you?” I ask her carefully.
“Honestly?” she asks. I nod her on. “I wouldn’t have helped her in the first place. It kind of sounds like a weird situation.”
“I just didn’t want to go in next!” I protest. “I wasn’t ready and if I’d gone in then I would have been flustered and not gotten it.”
“And did you get it?” she parries.
The question pulls me up short.
“No,” I confess. “No, I didn’t get it.”
“Yeah, look, I love you, Mi, but do you think maybe you’ve just let yourself get distracted by this random person? Is there a chance that this actress was a just a bit of a flake and that she sent a friend to pick up her stuff last night because her life is messy?”
I consider Souki’s question before responding. “But the woman last night was actually pretending to be her! She told me this whole involved story about a boyfriend in the hospital—”
“Yeah, people are fucking weird out here, Mi,” she interrupts. “Don’t get involved. Please, tell me you’ll drop this. Please.” She looks at me plaintively and suddenly I know she’s right. I’m obsessing over the elusiveness of a complete stranger rather than the elusiveness of the man who was supposed to love me more than anyone else. And she’s right about another thing. If George and I were still together I wouldn’t have even noticed Emily at that audition the other day. I would have been focused; I wouldn’t have been so desperate to find some kind of distraction.
“Okay,” I decide. “You’re right. I will drop it.” I exhale noisily and smile as Souki leans in to give me a warm, sun-cream-scented hug.
As we wind our way back down into the city, I mention Nick, careful not to go back over how we met two days ago.
“Is he American?” she asks.
I purse my lips to keep from grinning like an idiot and nod.
Souki raises her sunglasses theatrically, eyes aflame with interest. “Do I know him? Is he an actor?”
I know he hasn’t really expressed any interest, he’s just been friendly, but I let myself run with the idea of getting slightly more friendly if the possibility’s there. A little holiday romance might keep me out of trouble.
“No. He’s definitely not an actor.” I laugh. “I don’t know what he does but he’s got an office in North Hollywood,” I say lightly. “So, normal job, I guess.”
Souki fully removes her sunglasses now and high-fives me. “Yes babes! Yes! Is he ridiculously hot?”
I nod, somewhat pained. “Uh-huh,” I confirm. “Which is not ideal.”
“Why is that not ideal?” Her forehead creases in disbelief.
“Because—oh God, this is embarrassing—because I promised myself I wouldn’t go for another guy hotter than me.” I know what’s coming before the words are out of my mouth.
“Not true. And babes, that’s the dream anyway! The absolute dream. But listen, and trust me on this, George was nice-looking, sure, but you can do so much better, Mi. And I don’t mean, like, a ‘nicer’ guy; I mean a ‘hotter’ guy. Like, okay, do you remember Jamie Vintner when we were on The First Crusade?”
“Yes, why?” Of course, I remember Jamie Vintner, the insanely good-looking but mortifyingly boring series lead. He was supposed to have been in an on–off relationship with a well-known British model. I noticed in the airport duty-free that he’s now the face of Burberry.
“Yeah, well, he kept asking about you on set. I didn’t say anything at the time because he was a weirdo and you were serious with George. But Jamie kept going around asking us all how long you and George had been together and stuff. He cornered Alice in her trailer for like forty-five minutes. If I’d known what a shit George was back then, I’d have arranged a bloody candlelit dinner for you and Jamie at unit base.”
I beam back at Souki. She’s a good friend. God, it’s pathetic how cheered I am by the idea of Jamie Vintner fancying me; his boringness aside, it’s pure catnip for the soul. Souki is right, my self-esteem needs some serious rebooting. A little work/holiday romance might do me wonders. I could ask him out for a coffee or something.
* * *
—
Back at the tour drop-off point Souki hugs me tight and tells me to take care of myself and I promise her that I will as we part ways.
In the car I check my phone. It’s the first time I’ve allowed myself to check it since leaving Universal. I feel a buzz of excitement as I see I have three missed calls, one from Michael, one from Cynthia, and one from Nick. Michael and Cynthia must have heard from Kathryn’s office already. A bright joy crests inside me as I listen to his ebullient voice message and then hers.
“Well, you clever clever thing!” Cynthia trills joyfully. “It looks like we’re in business. She loves you. The studio loves you. I had to sign the NDA to even get them to tell me the part but I’m looking through the script now. And boy-oh-boy, this is a big one, very very exciting for us. Now listen—let me get on the testing contract and I’ll get straight back to you with details.”
I’ve said yes to the screen test, of course. Like a seasoned gambling addict, I’ve laid all my hopes for the future on a single square, not for the first time. The least I can do is enjoy the soaring high I’m feeling right now before I inevitably lose everything on a roll of the dice. Though maybe not this time.
Bursting with happiness I tap on the missed call from Nick. I guess he’s wondering what exactly happened with Emily last night. I did mention it was odd but now after talking to Souki and in the warm midday sun the whole Emily incident seems, well, a bit silly. I open the new text from Nick.
Hey. Tried to call earlier. Just wanted an update. On our missing girl but mainly on our coffee plan. I’m going to be even more honest and say, this might be the most exciting thing that’s happened on the street opposite my office this entire week. Hell, this entire month even. Hope your meeting went well! Give me a call if you’re free. Nick
I grin at the screen, quickly tapping out a reply.
Sorry I missed your call. The Emily update is kind of a long story. The coffee update shorter. Free to talk now?
His gray dots pulse for a second then stop and suddenly my phone bursts to life, pumping out the FaceTime ringtone at full volume.
He wants to do a video call, Jesus.
My heart rate shoots up as I fumble open the visor mirror and check my reflection. It’s all still there, just as I left it, albeit slightly messier than this morning. I gingerly tap accept call and a bright patch of blue sky and the edge of Nick’s face fill my screen.
“Hi!” I call and he finally looks at the screen.
“Sorry, hey! Thought I should probably take this outside, one second,” he says, adjusting the phone angle so that I can see his full face. He smiles as our eyes meet. “Hey stranger! What’s the scoop?” I can’t tell if it’s the intrigue of our Emily sleuthing he’s enjoying so much or if he’s just genuinely pleased to see me. I remember Souki’s advice to stop obsessing over Emily and I consider avoiding the whole subject with Nick from now on, come what may. If he loses interest then that would certainly answer that question. But then I have to tell Nick something and round off the whole story—I mean, he knows Emily’s car is gone.
“Emily sent me a text last night and then she just came over to collect her stuff,” I say, keeping it light and as underwhelming as possible.