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“With what?” I ask stupidly, my brain no longer occupied with the cameras and scene directions. It’s now diverted its full focus back onto Cory. So when Rob wishes me good luck, for a split second I wonder how he could possibly know about my new predicament. I correct myself quickly. “Oh, with the movie. Right.”
“Yeah, the director’s a bit of a hard ass, but he’s professional. And that’s not something you can always say in this business.”
Professional. Dissecting this word, I come up with others that compose it.
Cold. Unfeeling. Hard-hearted.
Cory is certainly all of these things. I can see that now, clearer than ever as I slip back into my regular clothes in the dressing room. The same one that still smells faintly of our earlier quickie. The same one where I confessed my love for him and was met with nothing but a blank glare.
Cory is nothing if not professional.
After changing back into my own clothes, I admire the transformation that lingers on my face. The make-up artists have made me look better than I feel on my best of days. But under the eyeliner and mascara and foundation, I see a woman who’s wearing a mask, desperate to deceive herself most of all. Because as much as I want to hope there’s still a chance with Cory, the truth is that when I said that I loved him, he didn’t. And I’m not sure how to come back from that.
Stepping out into the main studio again, navigating the flurry of activity as sets are reformed, cameras adjusted, and meetings are held in little huddles, I find Cory in deep conversation with a man I haven’t met before. He’s wearing a crisp navy suit and carrying a briefcase, from which he pulls out a manila envelope, handing it over to Cory. His hand that reaches out to take hold of it is slow, uncertain. He treats it like a cursed item that will burn through his skin if he’s not careful.
Curiosity beats out my fear of confronting Cory again, unsure what I’ll say. What does a person say after their love has been summarily rejected? I’m not sure, but for the moment, one thing I’m sure of is that from the way Cory’s looking at the papers he’s only half slid out of the envelope, whatever they say is life-changing. But when I sidle up next to him, biting my lips and catching myself forgetting to breathe, he puts the envelope away.
“Bad news?” I ask.
“Bad, but not unexpected.”
Before I can inquire further, he’s told me that he needs to run a few errands before heading home.
“Why don’t you go find Sarah and Lizzie? I’m sure she’s missing you.”
If I wanted to be snarky, I’d reply that she’s been missing her father for a whole hell of a lot longer than she’s been missing me. But from the way Cory’s acting, there’s something deeply wrong. Despite my heart dying inside each time I look at him, I can’t just leave this alone.
“Why can’t we go together? Families run errands together all the time. Besides, I’d love to stop by the grocery store and pick up a few things. Lizzie’s eaten through all the cereal at your house, for starters.”
“It’s just another boring meeting,” he explains. “You guys don’t want to come to that.”
“All the same,” I say, “I want
to go.”
“How about you take Lizzie out for a nice dinner? On me. Then you guys could stroll down the boulevard, see the stars on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. Take some pictures. Trust me, you don’t want to tag along for this. It’s going to be zero fun.”
“I didn’t come here to see Hollywood. I came here for you.”
My persistence is clearly grating on him. He’s using every ounce of willpower to hold back the concerns this manila envelope has presented so that he can just half focus on me.
“I know why you came here,” he says with a sincere tone, its edges ragged with stress. “And I want you to know that I didn’t bring you here just to act in my movie. I care about you. I really do. You have no reason to believe that right now, but believe me when I say that you do not want to come with me for this. You have a chance to actually enjoy the rest of your evening. I’ll meet you back home, okay?”
He leans forward and kisses me on the cheek. Sarah, ever with the perfect timing, has returned with Lizzie in tow. My Lizzie who’s got a huge bandage on her left cheek and a smile as big as the one plastered on her face the whole time at Disneyland.
I reach down and hold her, taking her head delicately in my hands and shifting her around so I can assess the damage. “What happened?”
Lizzie holds up a silver trophy that they give to contestants on the Kids Ninja show for anyone who can simply get through the obstacle course. “I’m a ninja!”
Sarah at least has the good graces to wear an apologetic face. “I know better than anyone how important a girl’s face is to her future. But their on-site nurse said that it was just a superficial scrape. Lizzie isn’t one to back down from a challenge.” She says this while looking to Lizzie, sharing some inside story, I’m sure. But then she turns to me and finishes by saying, “Just like her mother.”
“I missed beating the clock by two minutes,” Lizzie exclaims. “That’s why they only gave me the silver. But the director guy said that if I came back again, he’d let me have another go.” Her stomach growls at this point, and she looks up at me. “What are we having for dinner?”
“Your mom and you are going to—” Cory begins, but I cut across him.
“And Mr. Cory here are all going to grab some burgers while we run errands.”
“Can I get a milkshake too?” Lizzie asks, bouncing on her feet.
