JAMIE
(Speaking in Constance’s ear) The thing is, I usually dance when no one’s watching.
Cheesy-as-hell lines, but I’d expect nothing less from Jakob.
‘Thank you for doing this. You’re sweet.’ Evie’s voice comes out so soft that it catches me off-guard and sends my face flashing up to hers.
Sweet?Really not a word I’d use to describe myself.
Before I can formulate a reply, a clapper is shoved between us. It bangs shut, and a crewperson calls out, ‘Rolling’, followed by another saying, ‘Speed!’
‘And …action,’ Buzz directs.
Evie’s face lifts back up and her crystal-blue eyes burrow into mine as she transforms into the character of Constance. I force myself to hold her gaze, just as Jamie would. But as I deliver the first line, a strange, buzzing warmth erupts over my skin. I allow myself a quick glance at the ground, then turn my focusback to Evie, saying a silent prayer that Austin turns up soon.
After a week of us all living off barely digestible catering, Buzz makes a snap decision to take the principal cast members to dinner in the nearby wine region, at a restaurant that, as he mentions multiple times, his Uncle Harold recommended.
I relish the fact that I’m not invited and convince Austin not to force my attendance on Buzz. Cardboard burger patties and days-old lettuce are a small price to pay for an evening to myself. Plus, our location manager, Kiara, must’ve conjured up some magical juju to boost the wi-fi signal, because now I’m getting three bars. It’s worth breaking open the decent bottle of bourbon that some poor sucker left behind in my cabin.
The van containing Buzz’s VIPs shuttles off down the dirt road, sending up a dust cloud, and I settle into one of the chairs on my cabin verandah, hoping I don’t get rust stains on my jeans.
With a nip of bourbon in one hand, I use the other to tap on my tablet, googling the name ‘Evie Scott’.
I need to know if there is anything shady in Evie’s past that Nadia could dig up and use against her. If there is, at least I can get ahead of it. The image results are not where I should be looking, but that’s where my eyesbecome trapped for a moment. It’s not hard to see why Austin is interested in her …Focus, Kye.
Fortunately, the pictures quickly run out. Unlike Austin, Evie doesn’t have much of an online presence, but that may change after this film is released.
I scroll through multiple articles about other Evie Scotts—the real estate agent, the corporate finance lawyer, the Pilates instructor. But there isn’t much about the woman I’m researching other than a few music videos she’s choreographed, a TV credit for a guest role in a police drama, and a web page listing dates for a past tour with a hip-hop artist. Nothing Nadia can sink her teeth into.Good.
I’m about to call it a night when my eyes snag on a result near the bottom of the list; it’s a partial sentence from an old Reddit thread:
… went to primary school with a girl called Evie Scott, and she told my friend that her dad is the movie …
Yawning into my fist, I click open the random post about celebrities’ children and begin scanning the comment thread. When I find the post mentioning Evie, my jaw slowly falls open.
I went to primary school with a girl called Evie Scott, and she told my friend that her dad is the movie star Gabriel Dean. Her mum is the Australian actress Angela Scott, who used to star in Sandy Street, that sitcom he was in before he became really famous.
There’s nothing more, other than a string of replies saying things like ‘Wow, r u serious??? I didn’t know he even had a kid!’ and ‘I remember that show! Omg what!’ I hurriedly swipe out of the article and google ‘Evie Dean’. Nothing comes up that has anything to do with the Evie I know, so I change my search to ‘Gabriel Dean daughter’. No images appear of Evie, but a run of tabloid articles about a ‘mystery child’ flood my screen. I click on the first one and read that the world-famous Oscar winner is alleged to have had a kid more than two decades ago, whom he has never acknowledged.
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
I lean back in the chair and stare out at the barbed-wire fencing cutting across the horizon, but all I can see are the pieces fitting together … Evie’s age, which has to be late twenties … her surname, ‘Scott’, the same surname as Gabriel’s former co-star … the way she spoke up at the script read-through when we were discussing the farmer abandoning his daughter … and how closely her features—piercing blue eyes, chestnut-brown hair, heavy brows—resemble Gabriel Dean’s.
It has to be.
My entire body hums like the engine of an Audi R8 Spyder. Being the daughter of Gabriel Dean is like being the child of Tom Cruise, Jack Nicholson or Harrison Ford. My father is, apparently, a drug addict, whom I’ve never even met. Evie’s father is an internationalmegastar.
I toss back another nip of bourbon and try to wrap my head around this revelation. On film sets, gossipspreads faster than fire, so the only reason I can think of for not having heard about this is that Evie has chosen to keep her father’s identity a secret.
Not many people would understand that, given the doors it could open for her career, but I get it. Few things cut deeper than the realisation that your parent doesn’t want you. Suddenly her excessive cheerfulness feels more impressive than irritating. The fact that Evie has turned out to be so warm and pleasant, despite being denied the birthright of parental love, makes my lungs constrict with a feeling I can’t explain.
At first, I think it’s envy, because I’ve turned out to be the opposite—cold and broken. But then I realise it’s more like …protectiveness.An urge to safeguard what Evie clearly wants to keep private—a truth that wouldn’t be too difficult to uncover, if someone were to look hard enough.
Someone like Nadia.
The question is: what would Nadia do with this information if she discovered it? And should I tell Austin who Evie’s father is before he finds out from his ex? He’d expect me to, not only as his friend but as his manager. The problem is, the guy can’t keep his mouth shut—the entire crew would be whispering about it by morning; Buzz would be unbearable, making it all about him, and sales and marketing would be drawing up strategies to make the most of Evie’s celebrity connection.
Without knowing what to do, I decide on doing nothing, at least for now.
