Page 18 of A Spy is Born
I shift gears, speeding up on a straight of way.Theyarenotcoming for me. I amthemnow.
Chapter Five
The clickof the cameras is like the chatter of bugs in brush. I give them my shoulder, letting my long hair brush down my exposed back and smile, more with my eyes than my mouth. Like the femme fatale I play in the film.
The full-length, black shimmering gown slips across my skin, making me feel that much more seductive. That much morewanted.
My publicist, Jeremy Talons, nods and smiles from the side, his phone gripped in his hand. I shift, giving the crowd of photographers another angle, keeping my chin down, body angled to show off the dip of my lower back and the swell of my ass. The last nine months of filming and training have brought me up to peak physical shape.
"Over here! Angela!" They yell for me, and I slowly, carefully, evenly, draw my eyes across the forest of lenses, connecting with each one, watching them click, feeling the power they offer and letting it in.
"Okay," Jeremy says, stepping forward. He takes my arm, and I duck my head as I move down the line with him. "We have Jamie Novis from Celebrity Fit TV," he says quietly as we step up to a woman dressed in a full-length emerald green gown, standing next to a camera man. She gives me a giant smile that creases her heavy makeup, and I return it.
"Angela Daniels," she enthuses. "I love your dress. But more than that, I love your arms." I laugh good-naturedly…what a silly thing to say.Aren't we having so much fun right now?"So, I've heard the workouts for this shoot were grueling."
I nod, my hair sliding over my shoulder, “Yes, it was super intense. I worked with Synthia Taylor every day to stay in top shape, and I had to give up all my favorites."
"Like what?"
"I'm from Kansas, and we love our barbecue—I haven’t had a bite since January."
She laughs and nods. "So what have you been eating?”
I tell her about tofu, green leafy veggies, and broths…bone broths. We laugh at more ridiculousness.
Jeremy takes my arm, and we move down the line.
Harold Jaspers from HLTV is the first reporter to bring up Jack’s death—a tragic massive heart attack. The reporter’s eyes get all serious right before the question, so I have a moment to prepare, to put on the expression I've practiced for this moment. "What was it like, losing your director so early in the shoot?”
"Well, Harold—" I put my hand on his arm, and his eyes light.He’s getting something good here."I really admired Jack. Everyone did." Harold nods, his brow drawn down, drooping under the weight of the sadness, the grief of such a loss. "He taught me so much in the short time we worked together. It was just so sad, to pass now, when he still had so much to offer."
"I've seen the movie,” Harold says, and I nod.Yes, Harold, you're important enough for an early screening."And you're amazing. What a powerful female character you play."
"Thank you." I bring a soft blush to my cheeks by thinking about a dumb comment I made at a party years ago that still stings. “I’m so happy to have had the opportunity to play this role.” Badass chick in tight leather, kicking ass…cliché. But how can we show women's strength without also revealing how tight her ass is?
The strength of the single mothers of the world, the struggling waitresses and endangered teenage girls, are hidden in dreary dramas that no one goes to see.We don't see them as strong.Maybe one day I'll win an Oscar for my portrayal of an unattractive woman surviving, and Harold will ask me about my strength in that film…but more likely he’ll ask me about my intentional weight gain and makeup job.
I pull my attention back to him. He’s asking about the replacement director, and I am smiling, talking about how talented he is and what a wonderful film we made. "I'm really lucky," I say, the words coming out on a gush of emotion that I practiced for two weeks with Mary. Harold loves it; he laps it up like Archie going after the frozen peanut butter in his chew toy.
My publicist’s hand at my elbow ends the conversation and moves me down the line until we are in the theater, where Mary is waiting for me. "You did great, honey."
"You saw me?"
"Jeremy texted. Let's talk after-parties,” she says as we step into the theater. "I have several options for you..." I zone out as she goes on about where I need to be seen and with whom.
My eyes catch on a broad back. Is that Temperance? The man turns, and it's not him. My heart is pumping though, sending adrenaline through my system.
I have not heard from Temperance since he gave me a cup of coffee that first morning. Several nights, late, when I was being haunted by that dream that never happened, I’ve thought about calling him…just to see if he's even real. But time has passed, and the nightmare has faded. As long as I get in my training, my yoga, and my work, I'm fine.
I’m great, actually.
A hand stretches across my bare lower back, and I jump, startled. Mary grabs my arm as I bump into her. "Sorry, love, didn't mean to scare you." It's my costar, Julian Styles. "We're sitting together." He puts his hand onto my lower back again and points to the row of seats.
"Enjoy the show, honey. I'm going to make some calls, and I'll see you after," Mary says, raising on her toes to kiss my cheek.
She rushes off before I can even reply. Julian ushers me into the aisle, and I sit in my assigned seat, arranging my long skirt around me. The fabric bunches up and flows over Julian's tuxedo-clad leg. I try to pull it off, and he just shakes his head. "No worries. I don’t mind."
I smile at him, and he grins back. His star power is dangerous…enticing. Mary suggested I date him. But, I am not dating at the moment. Julian flashes his dimples at me, and I wonder if I should reconsider my position.
