The Disappearing Act(32)
“Yes, why?” Of course, I remember Jamie Vintner, the insanely good-looking but mortifyingly boring series lead. He was supposed to have been in an on–off relationship with a well-known British model. I noticed in the airport duty-free that he’s now the face of Burberry.
“Yeah, well, he kept asking about you on set. I didn’t say anything at the time because he was a weirdo and you were serious with George. But Jamie kept going around asking us all how long you and George had been together and stuff. He cornered Alice in her trailer for like forty-five minutes. If I’d known what a shit George was back then, I’d have arranged a bloody candlelit dinner for you and Jamie at unit base.”
I beam back at Souki. She’s a good friend. God, it’s pathetic how cheered I am by the idea of Jamie Vintner fancying me; his boringness aside, it’s pure catnip for the soul. Souki is right, my self-esteem needs some serious rebooting. A little work/holiday romance might do me wonders. I could ask him out for a coffee or something.
* * *
—
Back at the tour drop-off point Souki hugs me tight and tells me to take care of myself and I promise her that I will as we part ways.
In the car I check my phone. It’s the first time I’ve allowed myself to check it since leaving Universal. I feel a buzz of excitement as I see I have three missed calls, one from Michael, one from Cynthia, and one from Nick. Michael and Cynthia must have heard from Kathryn’s office already. A bright joy crests inside me as I listen to his ebullient voice message and then hers.
“Well, you clever clever thing!” Cynthia trills joyfully. “It looks like we’re in business. She loves you. The studio loves you. I had to sign the NDA to even get them to tell me the part but I’m looking through the script now. And boy-oh-boy, this is a big one, very very exciting for us. Now listen—let me get on the testing contract and I’ll get straight back to you with details.”
I’ve said yes to the screen test, of course. Like a seasoned gambling addict, I’ve laid all my hopes for the future on a single square, not for the first time. The least I can do is enjoy the soaring high I’m feeling right now before I inevitably lose everything on a roll of the dice. Though maybe not this time.
Bursting with happiness I tap on the missed call from Nick. I guess he’s wondering what exactly happened with Emily last night. I did mention it was odd but now after talking to Souki and in the warm midday sun the whole Emily incident seems, well, a bit silly. I open the new text from Nick.
Hey. Tried to call earlier. Just wanted an update. On our missing girl but mainly on our coffee plan. I’m going to be even more honest and say, this might be the most exciting thing that’s happened on the street opposite my office this entire week. Hell, this entire month even. Hope your meeting went well! Give me a call if you’re free. Nick
I grin at the screen, quickly tapping out a reply.
Sorry I missed your call. The Emily update is kind of a long story. The coffee update shorter. Free to talk now?
His gray dots pulse for a second then stop and suddenly my phone bursts to life, pumping out the FaceTime ringtone at full volume.
He wants to do a video call, Jesus.
My heart rate shoots up as I fumble open the visor mirror and check my reflection. It’s all still there, just as I left it, albeit slightly messier than this morning. I gingerly tap accept call and a bright patch of blue sky and the edge of Nick’s face fill my screen.
“Hi!” I call and he finally looks at the screen.
“Sorry, hey! Thought I should probably take this outside, one second,” he says, adjusting the phone angle so that I can see his full face. He smiles as our eyes meet. “Hey stranger! What’s the scoop?” I can’t tell if it’s the intrigue of our Emily sleuthing he’s enjoying so much or if he’s just genuinely pleased to see me. I remember Souki’s advice to stop obsessing over Emily and I consider avoiding the whole subject with Nick from now on, come what may. If he loses interest then that would certainly answer that question. But then I have to tell Nick something and round off the whole story—I mean, he knows Emily’s car is gone.
“Emily sent me a text last night and then she just came over to collect her stuff,” I say, keeping it light and as underwhelming as possible.
“Wait, how did she get your phone number?” he asks, brows knitting. “Did she finally go back to the casting studio and pick up your note?”
I sigh internally. Nick doesn’t know I stole Emily’s rental document and called her. And now that I think about it, I still have her rental document. I flip open the armrest beside me and it stares back at me. God, I’m a crazy person.
“What is it?” Nick asks, reading my expression from the screen.
“Right, don’t judge me but I went back to her car yesterday and found her contact information in the glove box. I rang her.”
“Great idea. And she collected her stuff?”
“Well, kind of.” I pause, unsure whether to fully lie in order to drop the whole subject or tell the truth and risk prolonging its airtime. I know I promised Souki I would drop it but surely Nick, an LA resident, would be a great litmus test in terms of whether I’ve blown this whole thing out of proportion. I tread carefully. “Right, this might sound mad, but it wasn’t Emily who collected the stuff.”