23 and You and Me

Prologue

SEPTEMBER, NEW YORK CITY

“W alking on Sunshine” played on Sunny’s mental soundtrack like she was the heroine in one of her mother’s rom-coms. It didn’t matter that rain pattered against her umbrella and splashed against the tan brick building, making it even drearier inside. Or that the puddle she’d stepped in on her way there from the subway had soaked through her brand-new boots. Sunny was at the studio to make magic.

Not movie magic like her parents. But television was still acting, and this season her name appeared in the opening credits. Someday she’d make the leap to movies, and they’d be proud of her. They’d be one of those families that showed up for each other. Who hugged in public, not for the cameras, but because they loved each other.

Cue the soundtrack.

Odile met her in the lobby with a Dior J’adore–scented kiss on the cheek. She’d worn it ever since those Charlize Theron commercials and even dyed her long hair the same golden color, trying to look timeless. Too bad New York Bomb Squad’s blue-tinted lighting turned it greenish. “Should be an exciting week.”

As they walked through the security turnstile, Sunny waved at Guillermo, the security guard. “You mean painful. Why didn’t they hand out the scripts last week?” She could memorize song lyrics on the first try, but the technical lines she had to say as a forensic analyst wouldn’t stick. “Want to run lines tonight?”

“Sure. I guess it’s a good thing we lowly analysts won’t have too many.” Odile nudged her as they stepped into the elevator. “Though maybe you’ll get another sexy scene with Curt.”

Sunny cocked a hip. “Think I can convince him to pop a breath mint this time?”

Odile’s hazel eyes gleamed greenish, though it might’ve been the weak elevator lights. “Ingrate. I’d give my left boob to be promoted to the star’s girlfriend.”

“I know. I’m grateful. Really.” It had been a dream to land the role as Curt Suede’s TV paramour. She’d watched him drive fast cars, seduce women, and walk away from explosions since she was a preteen.

“You should be,” Odile said as the doors opened onto the studio. “Remember how quickly it can all go to shit.”

The hum of the room stopped. All eyes, cast and crew, landed on Sunny and Odile. But there were no smiles, not like at the table read for her first screen kiss with Curt.

Their somber faces made her itch. “Happy Monday, everyone,” she called. Odile went left, toward one end of the U-shaped table, and Sunny walked to the center, next to Curt.

“Morning, Curt.” She set her water bottle next to her copy of the script.

Curt grumbled and guzzled his coffee. He was shit before nine a.m.

Sunny persisted. “What’s going on? Why is everyone being so weird?”

Curt grunted and raised his cup. An intern scurried over and replaced it with a full one.

“Thank you.” Sunny smiled at the intern since Curt never did.

He sipped, then said, “Big scene this week. You’ve got a lot of lines.”

“I do?” She flipped open the script and scanned the pages. She had a lot of lines with Odile’s character this week, digging into their friendship. She glanced up at Odile and smiled, but Odile hunched over her script, the fluorescent lights sparkling on her blond hair. Sunny scanned ahead until the word explosion leaped off the page. Odile’s character had snipped the wrong wire.

Cold prickles washed over Sunny’s skin. She knew they were approaching mid-season and needed to amp up the drama, but she hadn’t expected this. The show often killed off its guest stars—in a fan-favorite drinking game, viewers drank every time a guest star appeared and then tossed back the rest of the drink when they died—but never a recurring character like Odile’s.

The unfairness of it all bubbled into Sunny’s midsection. Odile was doing good work on the show. She didn’t deserve to have her part—her job—cut. And unlike Curt Suede, who’d be doing action shows until the day he died, Odile was approaching the dead zone of her career, where she’d be too old to play the sexy love interest but too young to play the wise mother. She’d be back out there auditioning, and why? For a pop in the ratings after the promos teased a very special episode?

Ed, the director, clapped his hands. “All right, everyone. Take your seats. Let’s begin.”

While she followed along in the script, Sunny glanced at Odile. Her back straight and her skin pale as marble, she looked more like a statue than the vivacious woman Sunny knew. The pages fluttered as she turned them.

When she read her final line, “Boss, we’re out of time. I’m cutting it,” her voice trembled. Then Ed read out the stage direction about the explosion, and silence descended over the U-shaped table.

“No!” Sunny rocketed to her feet. Under the force of everyone’s stares, she repeated it. “No.”

Ed raised his bushy gray eyebrows. “Is there a problem, Ms. Lafortune?”

Oh, shit. Ed is looking at me.

Her mouth moved before her brain engaged, following the familiar pattern. “It’s wrong. This is wrong.” Odile was part of her family, the one she’d built in New York that was better than the real one she had in Los Angeles. Sunny would fight for her friend. “She doesn’t have to die.”

Ed’s brows crashed down. “But it’s the emotional punch we need.”

“No,” Sunny said. “We can find another way.”

Curt’s mouth gaped, and his coffee breath choked her. She could sit back down, meekly agree with Ed, and save her career.

No, she couldn’t.

She laid her hand over the word explosion . “Having her recover from her injuries would be more emotionally satisfying.”

“Her body parts are scattered across a city block,” Ed said. “This isn’t a Gwen Lafortune rom-com. Our audience of twenty-five-to-forty-year-old men want gore, tragedy, and revenge. Not happily ever after.”

No happily ever afters. The story of Sunny’s life. But she could try. For Odile. “Can’t we give them both?”

“No, Ms. Lafortune. We can’t.” Ed’s voice carried the flatness of finality. Like the flattened building the carpenters would be constructing for that scene.

“Then I can’t, either.” Tipping up her chin, Sunny walked out of the room.

Like the scene in that week’s episode of New York Bomb Squad, she’d just made her career go BOOM.