Hot Set (Art of Love #2)

10. Brandon

Chapter ten

Brandon

I hadn’t purposefully made it so Alex and I were at the set alone. It was just something that kind of happened. I’d only vaguely noticed as the hours ticked by and people went home, but somehow, the significance of it all didn’t register. I was too busy trying to figure out how to rearrange the schedule and how much money I might reasonably ask my father for. I just hadn’t imagined this many things going wrong, but they’d settled into a sort of controlled chaos, at least.

I was pouring over the script for the millionth time. One of the sets had been inadvertently destroyed during a shoot. What was supposed to happen was that Seth was supposed to jump in the air and kick a zombie in the face. Instead, the wires got messed up, and he careened through several (thankfully sugar-glass) windows. Admittedly, it made for a cool shot, but now, that set was completely useless. I was trying to figure out what to replace it with or if to replace it at all.

“Brandon?”

I looked up, and there was Alex, his clothes stained with paint. I winced. This had been the third week that he’d been thrown in as a spare painter, and it was probably really annoying for him. I’d have been irritated if I’d gotten one job and kept having to do something else.

“Heading out?” I asked.

Alex nodded, looking absentminded. “I guess so,” he replied, rocking back on his heels. “What about you?”

“I don’t know,” I replied, stretching out in my chair. “I might just sleep over here tonight. Being the boss, I’m required to stay later than anyone else and get here earlier, too. Although it’s not hard to beat Seth here, at least. Some of you, though…”

“I’ve always prided myself on my punctuality,” Alex said. “I put that in all my applications.”

Strange. I couldn’t remember what I’d ever put about myself on applications. I usually just “bs-ed” my way through them as questions arose. But that was how I did most long questionnaires. Federal jury forms had been a nightmare. How was I supposed to remember specifically how many years and months I’d lived where? Or how many places I’d lived in in the past ten years? Who even remembers crap like that?

Alex stared at me for a long moment, as if he was expecting a specific response from me, but I wasn’t getting it. I bit back a joke about how I had first-hand experience in knowing that he came on time. Clearly, having sex with me bothered him , and although I’d liked the experience, I couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty. The last thing I’d wanted was this awkwardness, this thick silence hovered between us.

“That’s cool,” I finally said.

Clearly, my sharp wit is unparalleled.

Alex’s smile wavered. “I put it on my FBI application, too,” he said. “I thought they’d probably like someone who was punctual. Art thieves and forgers move quickly.”

“I’ll bet they do,” I replied, although I hadn’t the faintest idea, “But I think you’ll be quicker than them.”

“We’ll see,” Alex said, with a one-shouldered shrug.

Now, I got it. He was working up to the FBI, the other thing that kept hovering between us. Or maybe it just kept hovering for me . I was the one who kept dismissing the matter every time Alex brought it up. The poor man probably thought I didn’t care.

“So, you have a second interview,” I said, trying to prove that I had listened and did care.

Maybe I cared a little too much, although I definitely wasn’t going to tell Alex that. He was straight, and I needed to remember that. Even if he’d had sex with me, that didn’t mean he was attracted to me. It might’ve been an experiment or just a spur of the moment type deal. Heck, if I had a dollar for every spur of the moment mistake I’d made, I wouldn’t even need my father to fund my projects.

“I do. I’m really excited to get a second interview. Most people don’t even get a first one,” Alex said.

“You must be something really special, then,” I said. “They see something in you.”

Unfortunately, I did, too. I saw the way Alex pursed his lips together and concentrated when he was trying to get a look exactly right . And I saw the way he smiled from across the set. Ever since we’d had sex, I’d made an earnest attempt to stay away from him. It was clear that’s what Alex wanted, and I wasn’t going to impose. If he didn’t want to talk about it, we wouldn’t. I knew rejection well enough to accept it with grace.

And really, I shouldn’t have gotten involved, anyway. I was technically his boss, and even I—with my complete lack of supervisory experience—knew you weren’t supposed to bang your employees.

“I suppose I have the right degrees,” Alex said, pulling me from my thoughts, “But I don’t know if thousands of dollars of student loan debt is really all that special these days.”

I’d never know.

“The one loan you can’t file bankruptcy on, huh?” I asked.

“I think so,” Alex replied, “But I’m not sure.”

Great. Now, we were talking about freaking student loans.

“But that’s not what I was getting at,” Alex said. “I was just reminding you that I have this second interview. In case you’d forgotten.”

“I didn’t forget.”

“You haven’t really made any attempts to find a replacement,” Alex replied, “And I don’t think that’s a good idea. What are you going to do if the FBI hires me, and you’re left high and dry without a make-up artist?”

But if I attempted to find a replacement, that would be like admitting that Alex was leaving. Bile rose in my throat. I was acting childish. Alex was right. I should go ahead and hire a make-up artist or, at least, begin vetting potential candidates, but thus far, I hadn’t even made the token gesture of posting an ad on Craig’s List.

It was so, so selfish to want Alex to stick around, and it was foolish of me to be so attached to someone who had no hope of liking me the way I wanted him to. What had I been thinking in even hiring him? I’d literally just befriended some guy who rejected me in a bar and gave him a job! Sure, I’d thought of it as just doing a nice thing, but I probably should’ve thought through the consequences of hiring someone I was already attracted to.

“So, I really think—” Alex began.

“I will cross that bridge when I get there,” I replied. “If you don’t get the job because the FBI are a bunch of no-talent hacks or something, you’ll still have a job here. And if you do land a spot on the art forgery team, well, it won’t be your problem, right?”

“Right, but—”

“Then, you don’t need to worry about it,” I said, waving my pen. “I’ll figure it out. I always figure these things out. The only thing you should be worrying about is the cost of rent when you have to move out of your mom’s house and land in New York, or D.C.”

“I’ve been saving for it,” Alex replied. “I doubt the FBI would take ‘ I can’t pay rent’ as a valid excuse for not taking them up on their job opportunity right away.”

“Maybe not.”

“I’ve heard D.C. rent is absolutely horrifying,” Alex said, “And that’s where they’d want me to go. I might have to spend the first few weeks living in my car until I get a paycheck.”

“Now, I would hope the FBI would have some sort of contingency before you had to resort to all that .”

“We’ll see,” Alex replied. “God knows the drive would be soul-killing.”

Alex pulled over a stool and sat it beside me. I tipped my face down, towards the marked-up script in my hand. It seemed strange that Alex was staying. I’d expected him to say good-bye and leave. My heart hammered in my chest, as dozens of completely irrational thoughts jolted through my mind. Maybe this was just guilt.

“So, what were you working on?” I asked.

“I needed to repour some latex,” Alex replied. “Bioncia carved out this great shape earlier today, but the latex tore when we pulled it out of the mold. She promised to stop by the store or something for her mom, so she couldn’t hang around. I figured I’d finish up, so she could head on home.”

I nodded. “I’ve seen your latex work,” I replied. “You’re pretty great with an airbrush, too.”

Alex’s smile was so radiant that I couldn’t help but smile back. “Well. I wouldn’t say all that ,” he replied. “I’m only good with an airbrush if I have a model standing right in front of me. When it comes to painting something that’s on a stand or a table, I’m terrible. Bioncia really has an eye for the way that lighting will look. She can just visualize it, and I really can’t.”

“I’ve never noticed,” I said.

“What? That Bioncia covers all my mistakes? Sure, she does. She’s really good, too. Like, really good. She should be working on multi-million-dollar Hollywood productions.”

“A lot of people here should be working on things greater than my little movie,” I said.

And Alex didn’t read anything into the comment about himself. Instead, he nodded and smiled quickly. “There are,” he said. “You, too.”

“Me?” I asked.

Alex idly looked down at his make-up case and toyed with the latch. “Well,” he said, “I mean, you’ve had a lot of problems with this film, but that’s mostly because you aren’t used to being a director. And you’ve still managed to solve the problems you’ve run into. That’s pretty impressive on its own.”

“I hadn’t thought about it like that.”

“Well, I just mean that if you had actual prior experience in all this, you’d probably be really good at it,” Alex said. “I imagine it’s something that comes with a learning curve.”

“It definitely does.”

Our eyes met, and my breath came in an embarrassing, little flutter. For a moment, I sat as if spellbound, trapped in some beautiful and crystalline moment. Then, Alex looked away, and the spell broke.

“I really do think you should go ahead and look for a replacement,” Alex said. “I mean, I don’t expect I’ll get the job with the FBI, but I really want it. If someone is going to get it, why shouldn’t that someone be me? I don’t want to sound cocky, but—”

“You’ll get it. You’re confident, as am I.”

“Something like that.”

God, if I could be more like Alex, so driven and focused, my father would be thrilled. He’d have liked Alex. That is he’d have liked Alex if he’d had money and all the right connections.

“But mostly, I don’t like the thought of everyone here having to work harder to compensate for me leaving. Remember when Caitlyn…” Alex trailed off.

When Caitlyn left. Of course, I remembered. That was the reason we’d been in my apartment. Alone. I sighed. “Yes, I remember Caitlyn quitting, how can I forget?” I said, trying to steer us to safer territory. “Seth complained about it for days.”

Alex’s lips quirked into a grateful smile. “I don’t want Seth complaining for days about me,” he said.

“Seth wouldn’t. I’d take the blame for not hiring a replacement,” I replied.

Alex shook his head and slowly stood, evidently having decided that this battle wasn’t one worth pursuing. “Just think about it, okay?” he asked. “I know it’s impossible to know if I’ll get the job, but it doesn’t hurt to be prepared.”

“I know that,” I said.

“But will you do it?” Alex asked.

I smirked and shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not,” I said.

Alex laughed. “I have to head home,” he said. “I know it sounds sad, but my mom will worry if I’m not in when I said I’d be.”

“That doesn’t sound sad at all. It sounds like she really loves you.”

“She does,” Alex said, pulling out his phone. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“All right.”

Alex waved once more over his shoulder before walking off, his fingers moving quickly over the touchscreen of his phone. Probably texting his mom. I shook my head and looked down at the script once more. Maybe if I stared at the script enough, it would magically begin writing itself.

It didn’t.

After a few minutes, I gave up and left the marked-up script in my chair. It would be there in the morning, and maybe in the morning I’d be able to focus on something besides Alex’s smile.