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She cringes, her nose crinkling, with the cutest wrinkles forming in the bridge between her eyes. “Let’s just stick with the basics then. I’ll take champ.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I respond curtly with a small salute to my forehead.
She laughs as I watch some of the unease melt off of her. “But to answer your question, I think I may be able to let you know after another glass of wine or two. Once I’m more relaxed.”
I hum, silently laughing at her confession. I open my mouth to tell her that I’ll give her the whole bottle if it means she’ll relax when we’re interrupted by a high-pitched squeal.
“Rhylan!” Ellie and I both turn to see a woman dressed in a floor-length gown, sparkling in every inch of the fabric, scuttle towards me in her excessively high heels, Richard March following close behind her.
“Oh! I’m so happy to see you!” The woman is Constance, also known as Richard’s wife. I’ve only met her a handful of times, mostly during my random visits to the studio, and she is highly overbearing. Just like she is right now, clinging to me and planting kisses on my cheek. She looks out of place in this informal dinner, as if she were attending a gala.
I reach behind her to extend my hand towards Richard, shaking his hand firmly. “Hi, Richard. I didn’t know you were coming.” The last time I saw Richard was at my premiere almost a month ago. I haven’t spoken to him since but was aware of a conversation that he and Levi had in regards to the movie he wanted to cast me in. As soon as the script was couriered over to his office, Levi sat me down and shook his head in disapproval. He said that it wasn’t the direction he wanted to take afterUnrestrainedwas such a huge success.
“It’s good to see you.” He shakes my hand and smiles at me, not at all bothered by Constance’s hands moving across my chest. I see Ellie from the corner of my eye backing away and giving space for Constance to move in closer. That’s when I reach for her, taking hold of her hand and bringing her closer to me. Constance notices my movement as her eyes wander down the length of my arm to see my hand in Ellie’s.
“Oh, you brought a little friend.” Her eyes narrow, lips forming a straight line as she looks Ellie up and down.
I clear my throat. “Constance, this is Ellie.”
“You look familiar,” Richard says to Ellie, a fact rather than a question, his finger pointed in her direction as he tries to place her.
“We met at Rhylan’s premiere last month. I believe my friend, Claire, is working at Paramount. She’s an intern there,” Ellie explains.
“Oh yes! I remember you now,” Richard exclaims. He turns to Constance. “Her friend works with Hugo.”
Constance’s actions are overly exaggerated from the way she waves her hand before extending it towards Ellie and leans her body back in an unnecessary flourish. “Oh, I see! Nice to meet you, honey.”
“Rhylan, I’m actually glad you showed up,” Richard says. His expression is serious, insistently broaching the subject that Levi had already squashed. “I know Levi already passed on our script on your behalf, but I wanted to see if we could go over it again. And maybe you can help me convince Levi. God knows how protective he is of you.”
I smirk. “You know he respects you. He just wanted to make sure we go in the right direction, and I think he felt we had to pass on this one,” I try to explain.
His hands move up, palms facing in my direction. “I understand. And I respect him just the same.” He taps his finger to his chin. “Maybe we can talk to him right now.”
“I think he’s already made up his mind,” I start to protest, but Richard’s head is already swerving side to side as he searches for Levi. When he finally locates him, he bellows in his direction, calling his name out over the crowd of people. “Come on, Rhy. Let’s go talk to Mr. Big Shot and see why he’s too good to sign up his golden boy for my movie.”
I shake my head and smile before turning to Ellie, silently asking her if she’d be okay if I stepped aside for a minute. She smiles reassuringly back at me. “It’s fine,” she whispers.
Richard clasps his hand on my shoulder and guides me towards Levi. When I turn to look back at Ellie, I see Constance already standing over her, but Ellie still looks at me, all smiles.
EIGHTEEN
ELLIE
Rhylan walks away, his head turned towards me with a sweet, apologetic smile. I smile back at him, my nose and the corners of my eyes crinkling with gratitude for his concern. When I first walked in the door of Levi’s house, I was intimidated by the sheer size of it. The entire span of my living room could fit in his foyer. And that was barely the entrance of his house. I hadn’t gotten past the even larger living space and the entire second story that seemed to grow taller and taller as I looked up. It expanded into the sky, and I couldn’t understand how a single family could take up this large of a space and not feel like they were lost in another dimension.
Still, even with the intimidatingly beautiful home, Levi made me feel welcome. He smiled at me sincerely and received me as an extension of Rhylan, who he’s obviously fond of. While I had been worried that I would feel completely out of place, Rhylan was right. It was a dinner that was just as he had explained, casual and friendly.
That was until I met Constance. As soon as her eyes landed on me, she sized me up. She looked at me with disdain and pure condescendence. Her obvious dislike for someone like me, a nobody, was obvious in her arrogance and her phony greeting, referring to me as Rhylan’s “little friend.”
I try to not let it bother me. Not even as she stands over me right now, her drink lazily held in her hand, with a smile that curved only in one corner, scheming her next words to sound the perfect amount of smug to still come off as polite. From the corner of my eyes, I can feel her watching me while she sips slowly and skillfully.
“You’re so much prettier than the last girl Rhylan was with.”
My eyes quickly revert back to Constance’s, and my smile fades. Her head, topped with a heavy pile of curls, towers over me. I see her shift from side to side while placing a hand on her jutted-out hip. Her eyes continue to scan me up and down.
“Uh, thank you?” I say it more like a question rather than words of appreciation as her observation feels like a loaded statement, a backhanded compliment with an underlying insult.
“But I have to say, I didn’t think you would be his type,” she adds, followed by a low, throaty chuckle. “These LA girls have a certain look. Big tits, long legs, bleach blonde hair. Why, you’re just the complete opposite!”
