Chapter One
“WHENEVERyou’re ready,” the casting director called from her chair in the back corner.
Drew shot her a tight smile and steeled himself. They were nearing the end of the list of prospective costars, and the prospects hadn’t gotten any better as the day wore on. Drew didn’t have a great feeling about this guy either.
But even he couldn’t do a whole movie by himself, so he closed his eyes and reached for the small, goofy, irreverent, dumb space inside him that was quickly transforming into the character of Scotty Green.
“She took his dog, Morgan.” Drew injected a little melodrama and a lot of camp into his exasperation. “Tony is overseas, literally fighting for our freedom—”
The nobody actor across from him completely missed his cue. Drew didn’t break character.
“—and she moves to Vegas with that skank Matthew and takes hisdog? That’s not right.”
“He is literally drilling for oil in Saudi Arabia,” the poor helpless idiot in the chair across from Drew finally said.
God. This was the fourth time he’d screwed it up, even with direction.
Drew opened his mouth to ad-lib his next line, because the script wouldn’t work anymore, but thankfully Hilary yelled, “All right, cut.”
He glanced over. She was slumped in her chair with one perfectly manicured hand covering most of her face, her fingers delicately splayed. She was going to wrinkle her suit sitting like that. “Steve, can you… do something?”
Drew looked at the man sitting opposite him, trying to judge whether this was Steve. Probably not. He’d already taken out his phone and seemed to be attempting to covertly take a picture of Drew while pretending to play Candy Crush.
Drew fought the urge to mimic Hilary’s posture. This was a small production with a limited budget, and he was just going to have to get used to less-than-ideal working conditions, including less-talented costars. He was not going to do anything to make anyone call him a diva.
Even if he really wanted a Perrier and a security guard to divest this amateur of his phone.
“Yeah, all right,” the guy next to Hilary said in a smooth, confident tenor. He got up and immediately caught Drew’s eye. Short blond hair with a neat goatee, a slightly crooked nose, smallish, sharp blue eyes, really well-fitted jeans. But it was the easy confidence in his stride that captured Drew’s attention. He stopped in front of Cell Phone and held out his hand. “You mind?”
Cell Phone gaped at him a little but handed the phone over without complaint, then vacated the chair when Steve nodded toward the wall.
Steve slipped the phone into his pocket. “You want us to go from the top?” he called to Hilary.
Hilary waved at him, presumably indicating “just get it over with.”
“We’re looking for something like this,” Steve explained, and then he rolled his shoulders—muscular ones under a soft-looking T-shirt—and morphed into someone else.
Drew was so taken aback that it took him a split second too long to remember his line. He stood up to cover. If Steve was going to stand for this, so would he. “She took his dog, Morgan,” he said, and the line that had lost all meaning after twentysomething repetitions suddenly felt important again. “Tony’s overseas literally fighting for people’s freedom—”
“He’s literally drilling for oil in Saudi Arabia,” Steve-as-Morgan interrupted, with a slight emphasis onliterally.
Drew continued as if he hadn’t spoken, pacing an imaginary room as he gestured. “—and she runs off to Vegas with that skank Matthew and takes hisdog? That’s low, man. What happens when Tony comes home?”
“Tony will deal with it like the grown adult he is?” Steve-as-Morgan said.
“Tony will break like an expired condom andwe’llbe left picking up the pieces. You know he can’t stand up to Lila. And he loves that dog, man.Ilove that dog.”
“Of course he loves the dog.”
“She’s a good dog!” Drew said, building up steam. “She deserves better than this.Tonydeserves better than this.”
Mogan-Steve, meanwhile, was trying to put on the brakes. “What exactly are you planning to do about it? It’s not like you can just drive to Vegas and kidnap a dog.”
Originally Drew had planned to play this like the epiphany occurred to him just now. But with the rhythm he and Steve had built up, he didn’t want to break stride. Instead he put on a winning smile and clapped Mason-Steve on the back. “Of course not,” he said, and waited for Steve to sag a little in relief before adding, “that’s a two-person job.”
Steve looked at him, and his mouth worked soundlessly for a moment. “Scotty,” he protested.
“Morgan,” Drew parroted, all puppy eyes. Then he whipped his phone out of his back pocket and called up a picture of Roxy. “Look at that face. How can you say no?”
