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"Nothing is a big deal to you."
She clears her throat. "A Streetcar Named Desire."
My heart sinks. "You turned down a roll in A Streetcar Named Desire?"
"Yes, and it's not a big deal. An actress was fired and I'd be the replacement. But it's too sudden. I'd have to leave the minute I finished shooting here." There's no pause between her statement and her hiding behind a glass of water.
"Which part?" I ask.
She shrugs like it's not a big deal. She was offered a part in her favorite play, but it's no big deal.
"Come on, Ally. Who do you think you're kidding? We both know you could spend the entire night talking about the themes in any depressing work of American literature."
"It's not depressing."
"Oh yeah?"
"Okay, maybe it's a little depressing. But why is that such a bad thing?"
"You're proving my point," I say.
She uncrosses her legs. "I know. It's a great opportunity, and under different circumstances, I'd love to do it. I'd love to do it if it was in Los Angeles and I could come home to you every night."
"Ally..."
"No, don't Ally me. Right now, I'd rather spend my time with you."
"What was the part?"
She looks at the ground. "Blanche."
My stomach drops with a thud. Alyssa would kill to play Blanche.
"Ally..."
She folds her arms. "You promised."
"Okay. I won't talk you out of it."
She stares at me like she doesn't believe me. Every urge in my body is begging me to object, but I have to respect her wishes.
"I won't," I say.
She raises an eyebrow, the tension in her expression easing. "Okay. Then why don't we set up for dinner?" She stands and fetches plates from the cabinets. "Do you want a drink?"
"Water."
She pours herself a generous glass of tequila.
"Are you sure you're okay?" I ask.
She nods. "Tired. I really can't wait to be done with filming so I can relax."
"So you're not turning down the role because of me?"
"Can we not do this?"
I move towards her. Slide my arms around her waist. She looks away, but she leans into me, her body relaxing as I hold her tighter.
