One More Time(34)

Now they’re the ones between me and the bar, so I give her ass the merest brush as I walk by in search of a top-shelf tequila. I’ve hardly even begun to examine the choices on the neon-lit glass shelves behind the bar top before I sense someone next to me. Someone who smells like orange blossoms. I start to look over but she hisses at me.

“Don’t look.”

I can’t help but laugh. Naturally, the bartender chooses to serve her even though I was there first. I can’t blame him, although the way his eyes linger on her boobs makes me want to punch him in the nuts, but I count to ten under my breath and let it slide.

I let Jenna order lemon drop shots for her and Toothpaste before asking, “Why aren’t we looking at each other?”

“This place is crawling with gossips,” she stage-whispers back, still staring straight ahead. “Including professional gossips. Angela invited the press team. You need to cool it, Tanner. No grab-ass.”

“I like grab-ass,” I tell the bartender, since I can’t look at her.

“Me too, man,” he says.

“Uh..cool. I’ll have a Sauza 901, chilled.” I slip him enough cash to cover all the drinks plus a large enough tip that he’s probably thinking I want to play grab-ass with him.

“Save it for the chick on the dance floor, then,” Jenna says as she slides her shots off the bar and walks off without so much as a backward glance. I know, because my head whips toward her at that remark.

Is she… jealous? Of Maddie Bauer?

Interesting.

I say cheers to the bartender and take my drink in the opposite direction of where Jenna just walked off. There really isn’t much over here but the pool, and the night’s still a bit too young for anyone to be hopping in to splash in their underthings. I fold myself onto a couch that’s made for smaller people than me and cross an ankle over my knee. There’s a chill to the breeze up here that’s a nice contrast to the warmth burning down my throat from the tequila.

“Tanner James. I thought I saw you walk out here,” comes a woman’s flirtatious voice from over my shoulder. I brace, expecting Angela to be lurking behind me, but I’m pleasantly surprised to see Amber Jacobs instead.

Amber is one of the only female sound engineers I know, and a total badass. She’s petite enough to fool people who don’t know her into complacency, but I’ve seen her reduce grown men to tears on more than one set. Hollywood is a very small town, so I’ve had the pleasure of working with her on a number of films. It was a happy surprise to see her on the list for Reason To Love.

“Why’s the star of the show sitting alone?” Amber asks as she makes her way over to me.

“Just taking in a view of my whole kingdom,” I say, expansively indicating the empty pool with a wave of my arm.

“Your kingdom’s waiting inside to yell surprise to the queen.”

I half-stand to go inside and join them, but I won’t be missed in there, and I’d rather chat out here where I can hear myself think than inside where the EDM beats are pumping. In that brief motion, though, I see that Jenna and Toothpaste have been joined by an older guy. I’m pretty sure he’s one of the execs from Three Spots, the guys financing our movie.

Oh, good, I think, she can schmooze while I enjoy myself.

“Keep the king company?” I ask Amber.

She sits down next to me and clinks my glass with her own. I notice her drink immediately, because she must be the only woman here without either champagne or a vodka soda.

“Whiskey?” I ask, impressed.

“Bourbon. I’m a Kentucky girl, originally.” She flips her red hair over one shoulder, in a gesture I’ve noticed often accompanies the prideful statement of a born-and-bred southerner.

“No kidding. I just got back from Louisville a couple months ago. We shot The Bridge there.”

“Oh, right. I went up for that job but didn’t get it. I was dying to shoot back near my hometown. My parents would have gotten such a kick out of it.”

“Well you should have called me. I would have used my kingly powers to make them hire you.”

“If only I’d had your number.”

I startle. Is Amber flirting with me? When I look at her again, she gives me a huge wink and grin that tells me she’s fucking with me, and that she’s very aware of my reaction.

I shoot a glance in Jenna’s direction. She’s staring but quickly turns back toward Richard Thurgood. I notice her friend is gone, and it’s just the two of them now. I narrow my eyes, but it isn’t my business. We’re meant to be flirting with other people, after all, and the more time she spends flattering the bigwigs, the less time I have to.

As long as flattering is all it is.

“So what do you think of the shoot so far?” I ask Amber, politely trying to keep the conversation flowing while also keeping one eye pinned on Jenna.

“Best crew I’ve had all year. Polly Kemper runs a tight fucking ship. Jenna Stahl is the one that’s really blowing me away, though.”

“Jenna?” At her name, I turn my full attention back to Amber.

“Yeah. She’s good. It’s a cool feeling to realize you’re one of the first people to see a performance that everyone will be talking about. Like, not only is she spot on in the dramatic bits, her comedic timing is way better than yours. No offense. But really, who knew models could be funny?” She takes another swig of her bourbon and side-eyes me.