Between the Lines

“Did you chew the cork off, Thaddeus?” I say.

“Piss off, man,” Tadd says as he traps the last piece.

Vivian slides up to me and asks, “What’re you doing?” while fixing Emma with a defiant stare. Christ. I do not need this.

“Getting you something to drink, babe.” I grab a glass and hand it to her with a smile, wondering if alcohol will make her mellow or more belligerent. She stands on her tiptoes and rubs my nose with hers, marking territory. Holy shit, you’ve got to be kidding.

Emma, sharing a look with Tadd, sticks a finger in her mouth, her tongue out, and he chuckles. Unfortunately, Vivian catches the pantomime. She narrows her eyes at Emma and snaps, “Got a problem?”

“Hey now,” I steer her to the opposite side of the room, “nobody’s got a problem.”

Why couldn’t my appendix have died tonight? It’s a toss-up which was more painful, that night or this one.

*** *** ***

Emma

For almost two weeks, I’ve had a freaking front row seat as Reid cuts a trail through the cast of female extras. Step right up. Reid Alexander is accepting applications for one-night internships. On one hand, I don’t care, and on the other, it’s borderline humiliating and I feel like a total dumbass for thinking I could be some sort of exception for the way he is with girls.

I’ve avoided talking to or looking at him or tonight’s plaything, but I could feel her eyes on me from the moment they came in the room. With the SAT tomorrow, I’m avoiding alcohol, but I assisted Tadd with uncorking the Riesling bottle. We managed to disintegrate the cork with the corkscrew, and while we were fishing chunks of cork out of the glasses, Reid appeared at my side with his date, who attached herself to him like a barnacle to a ship.

She was trying to start something before he dragged her away. I don’t want him to think I’m jealous. You’d think being an actress would help in situations like this, but we’re human, with emotions like everyone else, and sometimes they just won’t stay submerged. I escaped onto the balcony to pull it together.

I close my eyes and breathe until Graham comes outside and stands next to me, hands in his pockets; I know he’s there when I inhale the familiar spicy scent of him. We scan the view as the sky darkens and the streetlamps flicker on. He doesn’t speak for several minutes, and I consider the fact that he and I spend a lot of our time together not talking, comfortable in each other’s company despite long silences. This is probably the result of running together, the exertion not always conducive to conversation.

“SAT tomorrow, right?” I love the texture of his voice, the husky timbre that triggers reverberations somewhere inside me. Too bad for me that he belongs to Brooke.

“Yeah. I guess I’ve got my excuse to bail early tonight.”

“Hmm. Are you doing okay, with—?” He indicates the indoors, and Reid.

“Yeah, I’m good.”

Brooke joins us then. “Hey, are you okay? Because trust me, I’d love to tell him to take his skank and get out.”

“I’m fine,” I lie.

“Well just say the word and they’re out on their asses.” She gives my shoulder a squeeze and goes back inside.

My world has done a 180: I want Reid to disappear, and somehow Brooke and I have become BFFs. What. The. Hell.

***

An hour later I’m in my room, bitching to Emily. “…and Reid’s piece of ass for the night was getting territorial. Like I’m competition. As if.”

“God, how many does that make?”

“Four—that I know of.”

“Jeez, what a man whore.”

I sigh, throwing myself against the pillows. “If he’s going to start bringing them around when we all hang out, I don’t think I can handle it. It’s hard enough just sitting in the same room with him.”

“Em, maybe you’re more hurt about this than you’re letting on,” she suggests.

“I’m just pissed, that’s all.”

“If you say so…”

She doesn’t believe me, but I need to forget Reid for a moment, forget where I am and everything I’m feeling. “I do. And in other news—how’s Derek?”

“Derek’s good,” she says, and if there’s such a thing as being able to hear a smile, I’m hearing her smiling through the phone.

Chapter 42

REID

Production rented out the thirtieth floor of an office building in freaking Dallas for Rosings Corp headquarters. Which means three days (and two nights) on location in Dallas with Graham, Emma and MiShaun. I’m not exactly a favorite of any of them at the moment.

I head for the elevator Monday morning, a travel bag slung over my shoulder, my arm around last night’s entertainment. She’s giggling and wearing my shirt (dammit, I’ll probably never see that again, and it’s one of my favorites). She’s cute, but after a night of her, I’m desperately craving silence.

As we round the corner, Emma has just pulled the door to her room shut and stands in the hallway, grasping the handle on her rolling carry-on bag. She turns back to the door as soon as she sees me, but it’s too late—it’s clicked closed and automatically locked; we’re all stuck in the hallway together.

As we pass her, I say, “Good morning, Emma.”

Lips pursed, she raises her eyes to mine before sweeping them away as she turns towards the elevator. “Good morning,” she murmurs.

Pointlessly, the girl in my shirt giggles. I angle her shoulders towards her room and swat her ass, resisting the urge to shove her in that direction. “Get some sleep, young lady.”