He scoffs, any softness hinted at in the lines of his face fading. “This is not what I had in mind.”
I purse my lips, wondering why I’m at all surprised by his condescending words. Grayson has made it very clear just who he is, and liking one of my movies sure as hell didn’t give him a magical personality transplant. This time when I stand, I toss my plate in the trash. “I know this might come as a shock, but you’re not exactly what I had in mind, either.” I swipe his bag of chips right off his plate like the petty bitch I am and storm my way back into the coffee shop.
@DeniseWest53:OMG guys. I went and dug up that old Grayson West/Emmy Harper movie and Screen Scandals wasn’t lying. It’s terrible.
@MrsJulieWest27:Is she just a really bad actress? How hard is it to pretend to be in love with GRAYSON WEST?!?!?!?!
@DeniseWest53:It’s both of them, honestly. They just seem like they can’t even stand to be in the same room as each other.
@OKAllison:Forget about the movie. I did some deep diving on the whole sitch, and he was such an asshole to her!
@RomComsWithRachel:What did he do to our girl?
@OKAllison:Apparently he was talking all this shit to the rest of the cast about how she’s such a bad kisser (she was 15!!!) and then him or one of his dumbass buddies put it out all over social media. Can you imagine having to read that about yourself as a teenager? What a dick.
@MrsJulieWest27:He was a teenager, too! Teenagers say and do a lot of dumb things!
@OKAllison:Let’s hope he’s learned his lesson.
@RomComsWithRachel:I can’t decide if this makes me more excited for this new movie or less...
Chapter Five
The next three days of filming are just as painful as the first. Maybe even more so. The only bright spot is the one scene I shoot with Jenna. According to Liz, Grayson’s scenes with the other cast members are going exactly according to plan—better than expected, even. And yet, every time the two of us are on-screen together, it feels as if I’m acting opposite an angry robot.
He really does hate me that much, so much so that he’s willing to tank the entire movie, just to spite me.
Because it doesn’t matter how good the writing might be, or how strong the ensemble cast performs; if the two leads in a rom-com want to throw each other off the Hollywood sign, the movie is going to bomb.
Day five of filming dawns colder than most we have had so far. Luckily, the schedule only calls for one short scene and some B-roll footage, which consists of those montage-like shots everyone is so fond of.
And when Liz catches me in the dining room at breakfast and fills me in with her idea for the B-roll, it’s thehappiest I’ve been since we arrived, before I ran smack dab into Grayson’s idiotically chiseled chest. I don’t even complain about the extra hours I spend sitting in the hair and makeup chairs. Today’s scenes are all being filmed at or around the inn, so we’re set up in one of the smaller rooms on the ground level and it’s perfectly cozy. I even manage to smile at Grayson when he comes in.
After I’m beauty-cleared for takeoff, I head to another small room to collect my wardrobe for today, complete with a thick scarf, gloves, and a beanie. Amanda styled my long hair in loose curls, knowing the top of my head would be covered. I dress quickly, more excited than a kid on their way to Disneyland.
I’m so anxious to get to the B-roll portion of the schedule, I don’t even notice how terribly Grayson botches his entire portrayal of Josh during the scene we film in the morning. Again.
I just wait for the signal from Liz.
“Okay!” she calls, trying and failing to fight back a knowing smile. “Time to shoot today’s B-roll.” She nods to the cameraman to keep filming.
“Anyone feel like cluing me in as to what exactly it is we’re shooting?” Grayson rubs his hands together before tucking them into his jacket pockets.
Liz simply cocks her head in my direction.
I’ve taken up position behind a large mound of snow. But even with my hidden location, it’s clear what my hands are busy doing as I cup snow in between my palms, shaping it into a perfectly round sphere.
“Oh hell no. This is not in my contract!” Graysonfrantically searches for some kind of protective barrier, but the rest of the snow is flatly packed, covering the ground in a smooth blanket.
“Oh come on, action superstar. You mean to tell me you’re afraid of a little snowball?” My arm rears back, and I pause to take aim.
He holds up a pleading hand as if that might stop me. “Emmy. Come on. You can’t just throw a snowball at my face with no warning.”
“Warning!” I call before letting my snowball fly.
It nails him square in the chest.
I’m not the only one who bursts into laughter at both the snow splattered over Grayson’s wool coat and the look of outrage on his face.
