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“Of course.”
He watched her stride away. Elizabeth’s anger was probably good; it might help her forget the crush. But for some reason Darcy didn’t feel particularly relieved.
***
Elizabeth had hoped to talk with George after his audition, but she needed to run paperwork to the studio’s security office, and he had gone by the time she returned. A text from him said he felt good about the audition and thanked her again for the opportunity.
George seemed like a guy who deserved some breaks, and he would be fun to have around the set. Will’s reasons for hating the guy were inscrutable, so she was inclined to ignore his opinion.
Work for the True Colors project kept her at Building 4 late into the evening, long after shooting had finished. Elizabeth was finally trudging toward the exit of the mostly empty building when she noticed Roberta sitting at a monitor watching that day’s takes. She couldn’t help indulging her curiosity. “I hear you auditioned my friend, George, today.”
A shadow passed over Roberta’s face. “I’m afraid he’s not quite right for the part.”
Elizabeth tried to hide her disappointment. “Huh. I thought he was perfect—even the right hair color.”
The director sighed, slouching back in her chair. “Yeah, physically he’s a match. But his screen test didn’t go well.”
Had Roberta succumbed to pressure from Darcy? Elizabeth didn’t think the director would cave, but… “Did you talk to Darcy about him?”
Roberta’s brow furrowed. “No. Why would I discuss a casting decision with Will?”
Elizabeth let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. “Oh, he has a grudge against George, and I thought maybe he’d asked you not to cast him.”
Roberta pursed her lips. “Nobody needs to dissuade me from casting that man.”
“That bad, huh?” Elizabeth’s stomach knotted.
The director ran a distracted hand through her short dark hair. “Quite frankly, yes. He’s your typical wannabe actor who hasn’t invested any time to learn the craft. We see it all the time: people who think acting isn’t work—just pretending—and they can just come on set to emote. He doesn’t have a lot of experience—not even credits in theater or student films, nothing to show that he’s educating himself.”
Elizabeth had gotten George’s hopes up, and now they would be dashed. That was the nature of Hollywood, but she didn’t want to be part of the dream-crushing system. “That’s too bad. He seems like a nice guy who could use a break.” Of course, it was his fault he hadn’t invested the time to actually learn acting, but still… “Are they hiring extras?” At least he would earn a little money, and her heart wouldn’t be so heavy. After all, the guy was unemployed.
Roberta made a face; his audition must have been terrible. “You can talk to Melanie. She’s working with the extras. Maybe she can give him a couple days of work in one of the crowd scenes.”
“I’ll do that. Thanks!” Elizabeth hurried off the set. She’d talk to Melanie tomorrow.
Chapter Six
Darcy’s manager, Roy, had once taken him out to lunch and laid out in excruciating detail how he might be perceived as proud, difficult, and perfectionistic by the casts and crews he worked with. Roy had emphasized that good relations with these colleagues helped to reduce nasty and untrue rumors, and such relations had only grown more critical as he tried to recover his reputation after Palm Springs.
Roy had suggested that Darcy host an event to foster goodwill with the entire In the Shadows team. His first idea had been throwing a party, but the thought of a bunch of strangers tromping around Pemberley gave Darcy hives. They had compromised on a plan in which Darcy hosted a private party at a nightclub in L.A.
The owners of Stinger’s, one of the city’s hottest night spots, were thrilled to accommodate him; closing on a Tuesday night for a private event hosted by William Darcy was no hardship for the club. Roy’s assistant arranged the whole thing, thank God. All Darcy had to do was write a big check and show up.
He’d done some partying and clubbing in his younger days, before he got recognized so frequently. But, left to his own devices, Darcy tended toward the quiet and reclusive; being a Hollywood bon vivant didn’t come naturally to him. He was, however, a good method actor who could imagine being someone who enjoyed parties, and he played the role so convincingly that some people apparently didn’t have trouble believing every ridiculous thing they read on the internet. Sometimes he actually convinced himself that he was having a good time.
Hosting a party required more acting. It was a tricky balancing act: appearing convivial and amusing while ensuring that nobody thought he was drunk or high. With one of those damn urine tests the next day, he wasn’t planning to have more than one drink that night.
The club held around fifty people from In the Shadows when he arrived, and more trickled in behind him. Darcy secured a table in the VIP section, which was marginally quieter than the rest of the place.
Soon his booth filled up with the actors and crew he knew the best, including Elizabeth, who slid into a seat beside Jane. Despite being the only woman in the group who wasn’t displaying her assets in a skimpy dress—she had on a sequined tank top and tight black satin pants—Elizabeth was the one who drew Darcy’s eyes again and again.
I could invite her to dance with me. Just the thought of watching her glide and writhe in time with the music made his pulse quicken. If others are dancing with us, then nobody will notice if I’m singling her out—not that I would be singling her out, really. I wouldn’t want to give her false hope.
He had expected her to seek him out more frequently in the week since she’d left the assistant position. Although he’d been impressed that she’d never seemed interested in currying favor with him or using his fame to advance her career, he’d also been a bit surprised. That was how the game was played. She seemed too smart not to understand that.
Nevertheless, her apparent immunity to Hollywood BS was refreshing. His fame—or anyone’s really—didn’t faze her. No doubt she had read a lot about Darcy—it was almost impossible to avoid his name on the internet—but she had never asked about any rumors or displayed particular knowledge of them. Obviously she played her cards close to the vest.
No doubt she was casting longing stares in his direction when he didn’t notice and wishing she was still his assistant, but her self-restraint was remarkable.
