Chapter 4
Hill
“Tell them no.”
“Are you sure? It’s a lot of money, and you’ve wanted to work with Kimball for years.” My agent’s tone dripped with worry.
“Felicia, I’m sure. I appreciate everything you’ve done to get this part for me, but if I can’t perform the role my way, I won’t put my all into it, and it’ll show. They can blame it on me being a prima donna or whatever. I don’t give a shit.”
I’d had an exhausting day. I’d recorded the comparison videos before reporting to hair and makeup, and then we’d done take after take of a fight scene. My only plans tonight were to order dinner and soak in my hotel room’s whirlpool tub.
“Okay, I’ll tell them. But it’ll leave a gap in your schedule. You’ve got some promo tours but that’s it. Do you want me to book some stage work?”
“No. No, please. I think I’d like to take a small sabbatical. Start back fresh with the action film.”
She grumbled about people forgetting who I was, but ultimately she agreed and hung up. I sighed in relief. Both because I’d made a decision to withdraw from consideration for the part and because I’d have almost four months to do whatever I wanted after filming on this project was completed.
I dealt with social media while I ate my dinner. I had an agency post content for me, but I insisted on being the one to reply to comments. It was usually tedious but sometimes the fans were entertaining.
As I finished that chore, I remembered that Josh had responded to my text as I was called to the set this morning.
I couldn’t believe I’d accidentally sent those videos to him instead of to John Lowell, the casting director.
Well, it wouldn’t happen again. After I’d declined the role, John Lowell wouldn’t want to hear from me for the next decade.
After dinner I ran a hot bath and relaxed in the water with a glass of wine. The hotel provided a little wooden table that could rest across the tub, so I felt safe having my phone with me. I laughed at the photo Josh had sent. Was that his donkey? Why would anyone own a donkey?
The smile didn’t leave my face as I replied. It was fun having someone to text who wasn’t in the movie industry. My parents were gone, and I didn’t have any siblings or cousins. I’d lost touch with my friends from high school, and people I met in L.A. were rarely chill about me being a movie star.
I should make friends with Josh. We might never meet in person, but he seemed like a good guy. And I could always block him if he got weird.
Me: Tell Benny I turned the part down. They didn’t like my vision for the character and I couldn’t see doing it their way. But things are looking up this evening
I took a picture of my glass of wine on the little table over the tub, with my toes sticking out of the bubbling water in the background.
Me: My POV [photo]
As soon as I sent it, I froze. Shit. I was the one making it weird.
Me: Sorry, that wasn’t meant to be some sort of come-on
I held my breath as I watched the dots indicating he was typing.
Josh Lowry: [Fans self] Those are some mighty sexy toes.
Just kidding. I didn’t take it that way.
I’m glad you’re relaxing. I spent all day doing manual labor, so I could use a bath and a glass of wine myself.
I’m sorry the movie people were assholes about the part.
You would’ve killed it if they’d let you do it your way.
Oh, thank fuck. He wasn’t going to make a thing out of it. My chest warmed. Maybe Josh and I really could be friends.
Josh Lowry: My POV. This is Doris D’Egg. [photo]
He’d taken the picture standing, pointing the camera down at his dusty work boots. It was dark outside, but his phone’s flash highlighted a brown chicken pecking the ground between his feet. Criss-crossed metal strips to his right made me think he was inside some sort of cage or coop.
Me: Do you live on a farm?
Josh Lowry: Not like a working farm, no. Just three miniature horses, Benny the donkey, and a plethora of birds.
Me: Miniature horses?? SHOW ME THE MINIATURE HORSES!!
Josh Lowry: Geez, calm down! Give me a sec.
Josh Lowry: Here are Quiche, Frittata, and Ranchero. [Photo]
Three adorable faces peered out from under fluffy forelocks.
Me: I could die from the cuteness, but Benny is still my favorite
Josh Lowry: Same, but don’t tell anyone.
Me: And you still have time to write books about men getting pregnant? Impressive
Josh Lowry: Hey, it beats my former life as a tech bro. And thanks again for your help, BTW. I finished my first draft and I’m pretty pleased with it.
I stared at his message. Shit, I’d have to read the book. Strangely, I was curious enough to want to read the book.
Forgive me, Joyce Carol Oates.
Me: Let me know when it’s released so I can make sure the paparazzi get a shot of it “accidentally” falling out of my pocket
Josh Lowry: You don’t have to do that. I don’t want to be one of those people who pressure you for favors.
Once again I felt my chest warm. He could be playing some long game to lull me into a sense of security, but I didn’t think so.
Me: Okay, how about this? You tell me when it’s released, and I’ll decide then whether I’m feeling kindly enough toward you to help promote it
Josh Lowry: Fine. I’m sure you’ll do whatever you want anyway.
Me: Damn right
Josh Lowry: Okay, well, have a good night. I’m in desperate need of a shower.
Me: No bath? They’re very therapeutic.
Josh Lowry: I wish. No tub.
Josh Lowry: For now at least. I’m putting one in the house I’m building.
Me: Why do I get the feeling you’re being literal when you say *you’re* building it?
Josh Lowry: How do you think I got so sweaty?
His words were completely innocent, but my dick jerked a little anyway. Fuck, I was trying to make friends here. Friends.
Me: Have a good night, Josh. Thanks for keeping me company
Josh Lowry: Anytime, Hill.
He never had to know I stroked myself off to thoughts of a dusty, sweaty Texan.
And Joyce Carol Oates never had to know I downloaded one of Rook Rance’s books.