Chapter 20 #2
I follow her back into the sweltering heat and climb onto a golf cart when she hops into the driver’s seat, hissing when the leather scalds the backs of my thighs.
“So, how’s it going for you? Any problems on set?” Jenny asks.
I shake my head as we speed past rows of trailers and storage containers.
“Your podcast has been great. Sally’s interview was so much fun. It looks like your audience loved her too.”
I startle. “Oh, wow. Thanks for watching. I’m surprised you even know about it. You’re so busy with everything around here.”
Jenny shoots me a grin before taking a corner at top speed. “I’m dating a guy in the marketing department. He’s the one who told me about it.”
I chuckle. This guy must be good for her. This is the most natural I’ve ever seen Jenny. But, as soon as we pull up in front of what I’m guessing is her office, she’s right back to being the ultra-focused professional I’ve always known.
“I’ll let you take the questionnaire home if you promise to bring it back no later than Friday.”
Our footsteps on the metal ramp leading to the doorway echo in the deserted back lot. She pushes through a door, and I have to rush to catch it, so it doesn’t swing closed on my nose.
This office is dark and not air-conditioned. She flips on the lights as I wrinkle my nose against the stale air. There are several desks shoved into the small space. She walks over to the messiest one and riffles through some manila folders.
“Here we go.” Jenny arches her brow as she holds out the folder. “You are very photogenic.”
I frown. I mean, I know I don’t look like a troll on camera, but I’ve never been called photogenic before. Looking around, I see a small round table with a clear surface, so I set the folder on it and flip it open.
My mouth falls agape. I’m staring back at myself from the photo on top of the pile.
My eyelids are hooded, and my chin is tilted upward so that I look aloof.
The shot is from my waist up. My hands are pressed against my hips with my elbows facing away from the camera, thrusting my chest forward.
My stance and expression make me look like a total badass diva.
I also look like I’m in my late twenties.
Crispin was so right when he said I’ll have some range in the roles I can take.
I glance up at Jenny who is watching me curiously. “When Remi first made me up to look like a thirteen-year-old, I told her it looked like me and not like me. This is exactly the same, but in the opposite direction age-wise.”
Jenny grins. “When they first sent me the proofs, I glanced at the first few and emailed back telling them they sent the wrong file. I thought I’d gotten some high-end fashion shoot instead.
People are going to go nuts when they see that you—” she points to the picture I’m still gawping at, “—are playing the little sister. They’ll want to see the movie just to make fun of how miscast you were, only to see that you nailed the part. ”
I cock my head. “You don’t know that I’ve nailed the part.”
“I’ve seen plenty of the dailies, Arabelle.
You’ve nailed that part.” She looks around as if someone might be listening in on our conversation.
“I’m so glad you’ve taken some of the ridiculousness out of the character.
She’s still an obnoxious little sister, but an actually funny one instead of a caricature. ”
With reddened cheeks, I look back down at the photo. “Thanks, Jenny. I appreciate that.”
“This movie is gonna be so much bigger than they thought. There is so much emotion and drama and humor and realness. People are going to love it.”
For the first time, I truly imagine what my life might be like after the movie releases. What if Crispin and Jenny are right and it takes off? What if I become recognizable?
I flip to the next photo and the next. Okay, that probably won’t happen. Not if I can look so different just by doing my makeup and hair differently. Nobody will realize they are standing in line at the grocery store next to the actress who played SallyGarza’s little sister.
I freeze when I flip to a picture of Crispin and me.
Jenny snorts. “Yeah, so hot. It’s almost a shame you two aren’t the love interest in this movie. Look at that chemistry.”
I have no words. I’m standing in front of him, just off to the left, with my left arm snaking upward, my hand wrapped around his neck possessively.
His left arm is draped around my waist. His hand splayed across my belly.
Just seeing it there in the photo causes an eruption of butterflies in my stomach.
His large right hand completely envelopes mine, and he’s holding my knuckles against his lips, staring at the camera. The expression on his face sends those butterflies soaring.
For some reason, the aloof expression the photographer made me don for the photo makes everything that much more compelling. I want to know who this girl is and how her life can be so good that having Crispin Moore wrapped around her isn’t enough to even spark a smile.
Almost afraid to, I flip to the next photo.
I press my fingers to my lips as a grin splits my face.
I’m wrapped in Crispin’s arms, he’s dipping me backward, my hair is a waterfall straight toward the floor.
The grins we share in the photo are contagious.
When I glance up at Jenny, she’s smiling down at the photo too.
The final photo is a surprise. I don’t remember posing for it.
The more I think about it, the more convinced I am that it’s a candid shot.
I have my back to the camera and I’m walking away, but my head is turned slightly in Crispin’s direction.
Almost like I’m making sure I have one hundred percent of his attention.
And I do. He stands facing me, one hand in his pants pocket, the other fisted at his mouth.
His gaze is intense as he watches me. Every bit as intense as it was this morning.
I swear the photo could be a promo shot for the next Bond movie.
That couple is sexy and compelling, and they have a story to tell.
I bite my lip as I close the folder. “Wow. Those are something.”
Jenny nods. “Seriously, all the photos are good, but I thought I’d print out the best of the best for you.”
I place my hand on the folder. “These are for me?”
“Yeah. Hang them on your wall. Add them to your portfolio. They’re for you. You just can’t use them for your own publicity. The rights belong to the movie production.”
She plucks a stapled stack of papers off her desk and hands them to me. “Your quiz, ma’am. Be as compelling as possible.”
“Thanks for the pictures.” I wave the pack of papers in the air before sliding them into the folder. “I’ll get these back to you before Friday.”
I clutch the folder to my chest as I head out the door. But then I look around and enter the office again. “Actually, can I get a ride back to civilization? I don’t really know where we are.”