“Hey, I like that!” Oliver exclaimed.
“Just promise we can still be friends.” I winked.
“Oh, I can’t wait to be rid of you for good.” Oliver grinned. “But I’ll probably run into you when I’m hanging with Sara.”
The two clinked glasses, laughing, and I scowled, but couldn't help laughing too. Sometimes my fake boyfriend and best friend got along a little too well.
***
The next month and a half blurred by quickly as I poured over scripts and prepared for the premier of Maid for You, which unfortunately didn’t end up being the blockbuster the producers had hoped for. I guess the public wasn’t as hungry to see me scrubbing floors as Paramount had predicted. When Oliver and I ‘broke up,’ it was rumored that we’d fought over how badly the movie had done.
Truthfully, I wasn’t all that consumed by how much the movie flopped. I put my best effort into everything I did, and that alone was enough to make me proud. But I’d come to a point where I had a hard time caring about silly comedies. I wanted to create a film that would make a difference in someone’s life.
Real Love took over my mind until I could say the lines in my sleep. Literally. Oliver woke me up one morning because I was shouting out lines from the climatic moment of the movie. That had actually sparked our ‘breakup,’ because he couldn’t stand staying over in my apartment when I talked in my sleep. We didn’t have to stay together for the movie anymore, so there was nothing forcing us together.
Of course my publicist wished I’d stayed with Oliver a little longer, but whatever.
I was completely single-minded when I arrived at Aorta Studios for our first table reading. I was going to devote every bit of energy I had to this movie.
Cleo yapped from her carrier as I sat in my chair next to the director, Braelyn, and waited for the other actors to arrive. It was an extremely small cast, most of the scenes taking place exclusively between me and… err, I’d forgotten the woman’s name. Was it Maria?
A loud sneeze echoed behind me. I turned to see her green eyes all scrunched up. Amelia! That was it. Amelia Earhart.
“You brought the dog?” she groaned.
“Was I not supposed to?” I put a protective hand on Cleo’s cage.
“Forget it, I’ll pop some Benadryl.”
Then I remembered her mentioning that some people were allergic to dogs and I realized with embarrassment that she’d meant she was allergic to dogs. She sat down, looking exhausted and took a packet of pills from her pocket, popping one without any water. She ran a hand through her stiffly gelled hair, messing up what would’ve been an extremely tidy style. She wore a grey suit that hugged her slim frame and gave off a vintage vibe. Despite having such a beautiful face, Amelia didn’t seem to have any interest in looking prissy or feminine. She had the kind of unique look that would’ve turned heads wherever she went, just for how confident it made her seem.
“I’ll check and see if the others are waiting out front,” Braelyn said, popping up out of his chair.
Amelia and I sat in awkward silence. There was something about the way she was looking at me that wasn’t right. Like I put a bad taste in her mouth.
“So is Amelia Earhart a stage name?” I asked curiously.
“No. It’s my real name,” she said tensely before casting us back into heavy silence. Finally, she sighed, dropped her gaze into her lap and muttered, “I’m sorry.”
“What?”
“I’m sorry I was rude to you when I saw you at the club. I hope there won’t be any awkwardness between us, considering...” She swallowed heavily. “Considering we’ll be working together.”
“Huh?” I shook my head. “Sorry, but I don’t remember you being rude to me.”
“So you don’t even remember running into me?” She pressed her lips together. I really had no idea what was making her so angry.
“Of course I remember you talking about how important this movie was to you, but I don’t remember you being rude to me.”
One of her brows raised and she looked at me like Cleo was tap-dancing on my head.
Braelyn rushed back into the room and flopped back into his chair. “Looks like the rest of the cast isn’t making it. There was a bad traffic accident.”
“Is everyone okay?” My mouth fell open.
“Yeah, yeah, no one’s hurt, but there are huge delays.” He waved his pen around dismissively before tucking it behind his ear. “We’re just going to skip ahead to one of the more intense scenes between the two of you. Jessica, could you start reading from the fifth line on page twenty?”
I knew the script well enough that I didn’t even have to flip to the page before I started speaking. My voice dropped to a slow, sassy tone that I felt matched the care-free character.