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“Is it just me or is the sexual tension between the two of them crazy high?” Jeff asked from somewhere behind me.
“What?” I turned around, confused. I’d thought I was alone.
“Hope and Daniel.” Jeff replied, slapping a few folders against his thigh. “They’ve got some serious will they/won’t they vibes.”
I blinked. “I think you’ve been reading too many movie scripts. Those two hate each other.”
“I don’t know. I think they’ve got some10 Things I Hate About Youvibes. All sneering retorts, but they’re into each other. Anyhow, speaking of scripts, I printed out Sophia’s screenplay, if you want to read it.”
“To torture myself with, you mean? What good will that do? She left. She doesn’t want anything to do with me or what I think about her screenplays.”
“Aren’t you curious? Don’t you want to know what kinda guy she sees as hero material?”
I sucked in a breath. When he put it like that, how could I not? I was reaching for the papers in his hands before I’d even processed the thought.
Jeff handed me the folder and cleared his throat. “I uh, should mention that I kinda broke a promise I made to her, too.”
I sighed. Apparently, there was no one in my circle that Sophia could count on. We were all assholes. “What’d you do?”
“I promised her that I wouldn’t read it myself or show it to you. But I think you should read it. It’s good. Really good.”
“You read it?”
Jeff shrugged. “What can I say? I never was a Boy Scout.”
Shaking my head, I clutched the folder in my hands and headed for the tiny bedroom at the back of my trailer. “I’ll see you later.”
“You got an hour and a half before they need you back in wardrobe.”
“Sounds good.” Actually, it sounded anything but good, but I wasn’t one to take out my shitty mood on my friends.
“You need anything from me?”
“You got a time machine?” I’d love nothing more than to go back in time and not be such a thoughtless douche. Sophia would’ve come to me with or without my outing her to the press. Why did I have to be such an impatient asshole?
I’d give anything to fix this, but I didn’t know where to start.
“Unless you mean the time machine prop from that H. G. Wells flick or maybe the hot tub one, you’re out of luck.”
“Nah, I’m good, man. I’ll see you later.”
“In an hour and a half.”
The outer door closed behind Jeff a beat before I closed the bedroom door. I sat on the bed and stared at the folder in front of me. I hated that I hadn’t even given her the smallest amount of feedback after I’d promised her so much. I’d failed her in so many ways.
I had to do better. Be better.
But at the moment, the only thing I could do was open the folder and start reading.
* * *
My mind was still reeling as I walked into my house that night. I’d spent every spare minute when I wasn’t filming reading Sophia’s words. Jeff was right. Her story was awesome. An amazing mix of swashbuckler, humor, and romance. LikeNational Treasurebut with more humor, heart, and realism. I wanted to play the lead Jake McMillon so fucking bad.
But I knew Sophia wouldn’t believe anything I had to say about her screenplay at this point. She wouldn’t believe anything coming out of my mouth. And why should she?
I opened my fridge and stared at the premade meals in indecision. I was hungry but nothing sounded good. Pongo whined at my feet, and I patted his head in distraction. Finally, I chose a chicken casserole container and tossed it onto the counter.
Taking a second, I fed my dog before shoving my meal in the microwave. Not that Pongo seemed interested in food either. He just sat at my feet and whined, not even looking at his dinner.
