Chapter 7
Emily leaned back in her seat at The Pancake Bar as Preston and Faye talked opposite her. It was busy. And the smells coming from the kitchen made her salivate.
But then, the owner had told them that his pancakes were the best in the world. He’d even mentioned some award.
Maybe they’d distract her from everything else. Everything else being Ryan, of course, and the kiss that should never have happened.
A shudder rolled down her spine at the memory. The kiss had been everything she remembered a kiss with Ryan to be. And that was a problem. A big one.
She glanced out the window beside her. And her stupid heart almost hoped he’d pass. That she’d catch a glimpse of him.
Argh, she was pathetic.
No, the pathetic part was that she’d been trying to catch glimpses of him for the last week, always waiting for his shift. Why? Her heart knew what he’d done to her. It should hate him.
She dragged her attention back to the café.
Preston was talking about his upcoming list of projects.
Well, less talking, more bragging. Emily had zoned out a while ago.
Roscoe and a few other crew members sat on the other side of the café.
They were deep in conversation, probably about the movie.
That was all Roscoe talked about. He lived and breathed his work.
How many times had he made her redo yesterday’s scene? So many she’d lost count. At least they’d been able to refilm the river crossing scene without any problems.
“I still can’t believe someone put marine grease on that rock,” Faye whispered, cutting into Emily’s thoughts. She looked back at her friends.
Preston lifted a shoulder like it was no big deal. “Probably some local kid who wanted to mess with the set.”
Faye rolled her eyes. “You sound like Roscoe.”
“Well, he’s right.”
“I thought at least the local sheriff would put more effort into finding out who did it.”
Preston laughed. “The guy who showed up with donut jam on his shirt? He only had lunch on his mind.”
Faye leaned forward. “How are you feeling, Emily?”
How was she feeling? Not good. Not only had marine grease been on the rock, but there’d been a tear in the harness.
That was why it had snapped. But no one, particularly law enforcement, seemed to care enough to find the person who did it.
“There’s not much I can do. They assume it was a prank, and we have to keep filming, so that’s what we’ll do. ”
Did she feel kind of sick about it? Yes. Was she going to hold up production over it? Absolutely not. That would prolong her time here in Deep River, with Ryan.
Larry had apologized a million times.
She just wished she knew how it had happened.
“Okay, new topic.” Faye clapped her hands. “Apparently this place has the best pancakes in the world.”
“So why didn’t you order any?” Preston lifted a brow.
“Because not all of us can eat whatever we want and remain a size two.”
“You’re a size two?” He scanned her body.
Faye whacked him on the shoulder. “Stop being a dick.”
“She’s right, you’re being a dick,” Emily agreed.
“Got to have a thick skin in this industry.” He slicked back his hair as if there wasn’t a mountain of hair spray keeping it in place.
“Oh, is that why I haven’t made it?”
Emily frowned at Faye’s question. “What are you talking about? You’re a working actress.”
Faye rolled her eyes. “Not the leading-role kind.”
“Jealous?” Preston smirked.
“Yes.” Faye didn’t even try to lie. “And I’m not ashamed to admit it. I’m sure half of America is jealous of Emily’s career.”
Emily swallowed. It was true, so many people would love to be where she was. Cue massive guilt for not appreciating what she had.
Preston scoffed. “She only got this role because Jilly Hopkins is in a coma.”
They obviously didn’t know she’d been offered the role first. Mentioning it might make things worse though, so she didn’t.
“Right, so I got turned down twice,” Faye huffed. “I was hoping Roscoe would at least consider me for the part. Especially after I was so nice and chummy with him.”
Silence slipped over the table, because yeah…the comment was a bit heartless.
Faye frowned. “What?”
“The woman’s in a coma, Faye.” Preston sighed. “God, you’re a bitch.”
“She’s not dead.” Faye rolled her eyes.
Emily’s phone vibrated with a text.
Mom: Where are you? I’m in your room to go through lines but you’re not here.
Emily: I’m out for breakfast.
Mom: I thought we were having breakfast together? Really, Emily, why don’t you update me on these things?
Emily: I’ll be back soon.
She loved her mother, she really did. But God, the woman had been a lot in the last five years. She’d been a lot before that too, but she’d progressively become more controlling since Emily had achieved real fame, wanting to micromanage every little detail of her life.
Two girls who looked to be maybe twelve or thirteen came over to the table, their smiles shy.
“Hi.” The blonde fiddled with the phone in her hand. “Emily, I’m such a big fan. And Preston…you’re…you’re amazing!”
There was a noticeable sag of Faye’s shoulders.
Emily slipped her practiced smile into place. “What are your names?”
“I’m Cassie, and this is Charity.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Cassie and Charity. This is Faye Parker. She’s been in a few shows you might know, too.”
Faye straightened as the girls asked her what she’d been in.
As they talked, the door to the café opened and Connor and Ryan walked in.
Oh no…she’d basically summoned him, right? Looking for him out the window and now he was here. And she had no idea if she was happy to see him.
She did know that her heart raced far too quickly.
They hadn’t spoken about the kiss. And maybe a small part of her thought he might have called or texted, especially after the knee confession.
He hadn’t. And that should not be something that hurt her.
He dipped his chin toward her. She offered a small smile in return before shifting her attention back to the table to see the girls turn to Faye.
“Would you be able to take a photo of us with Preston and Emily?”
Oh, God. This wouldn’t help Faye’s insecurities about not having “made it.”
Without even a hint of a smile, Faye took the phone and said in a flat voice, “Sure.”
Emily stood, and Preston immediately pulled her into his side. The girls positioned themselves on either side of them.
Another professional smile fell across Emily’s face as Faye snapped the photos.
Emily shouldn’t look at him. She absolutely shouldn’t.
She did. And as per usual, Ryan’s dark, intense eyes were already on her.
Quickly, she looked away. The girls had just left when a guy set two stacks of pancakes on the table, and a green salad.
Faye sighed, eyeing Emily’s pancakes. “Really? You can eat all that and stay that size?”
Emily pushed her plate forward. “Just have some.”
“I shouldn’t.”
“Then don’t. But don’t complain about it.” Preston shoved a big forkful of pancakes into his mouth. “Holy shit balls, these are good.”
“Oh, screw it.” Faye dug her fork into Emily’s pancakes, and the second they were in her mouth, her eyes rolled back. “It’s better than an orgasm. What do they put in that syrup?”
Preston shoved another forkful of pancakes into his mouth. “High praise. Low bar.”
He received another punch in the shoulder from Faye.
Emily dug her own fork in and tried them. They were good. Really good. But she could still feel Ryan’s eyes on her…and damn him for making her appetite disappear. Just another thing to be mad about.
He couldn’t stop looking at her. One kiss and he was already in too deep.
She smiled. Not a full smile though. This one didn’t reach her eyes. It was too practiced. Almost rigid.
They hadn’t talked since the kiss. Not once. But fuck, he wanted to. He craved her voice. Which was crazy. Maybe she was making him lose his damn mind.
“Are you okay?”
Ryan forced himself to look at Connor. “I don’t think I am.”
“That kiss really messed with you.”
Not just the kiss. This change in him had started far before that. After one glance, one single second in her presence, and his entire world had been thrown off balance.
“Hey, guys, what can I get you?” Basil asked from the other side of the counter.
They each put in their orders, grabbing food for the other guys too.
“To go,” Ryan added.
“You got it.” Basil tore the sheet from the pad before leaning over. “Can you believe Emily Prior and Preston Painter are sitting in my pancake bar?” He laughed. “Not to mention the greatest director of all time, Roscoe Boone.”
“I don’t know, his last few movies haven’t done so well.” Connor glanced over his shoulder at the director.
“He’s still famous. And he’s eating my pancakes!” Basil gushed, before moving to the kitchen.
Don’t look at her, Ryan. Don’t fucking look.
He ignored his own warning, only to see that beautiful smile on her face as she spoke to the woman opposite her.
Why were all her smiles so strained? Did she not like the other cast members?
At Roscoe’s loud laugh across the room, Ryan’s jaw clenched.
“Don’t do it,” Connor said under his breath.
Yeah, Connor knew he was fucking angry about the river incident. About the complete lack of care Roscoe had shown for his cast member’s safety.
Another laugh.
Fuck it. Ryan was moving before he could stop himself.
“Ryan.”
He ignored Connor’s call and stopped by the table. “Have you spoken to the studio about pausing production until the river incident is looked into?”
Roscoe looked up and leaned back in his seat. “Ryan. Good morning to you, too.” He glanced around his table, a smile on his face. “And here I was thinking I was the grumpy one.”
The director laughed, and his table of minions laughed with him. One thing Ryan had learned over the last couple weeks was that this guy called the shots. All of them. And everyone else spent all their time crawling up his ass.
Ryan set his palms on the table. “Have you spoken to the studio?”
“Look, I spoke to the sheriff, and we both agreed it was likely some kid who knew the scene was being shot and tried to have a little fun.”
“And he knew exactly which rock she was going to step on?”