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1
IVY
This is your last chance,Ivy. Don’t screw it up.
I down the last sip of cheap wine from the clear plastic airline cup, recalling the conversation with my agent, Arielle.
Honestly, at this point I’m lucky I still have an agent.
It’s been a year and a half since I landed the lead role in a movie. Any movie.
So when the Christmas Network called and offered me this job, I didn’t dare turn it down.
Even though I absolutely despise Christmas—and made-for-television holiday movies in particular.
“Don’t bite the hand that feeds you, Ivy,” Arielle warned me. “You made your name on the Christmas Network. People love seeing you in holiday movies. You’re a natural.”
My eyes flick up to the small screen embedded in the back of the blue upholstered seat as we fly high above the Atlantic. A winter wonderland scene fills the tiny television and there I am with Nico, one of my usual co-stars. He launches a huge snowball at me, a white cloud of snow exploding on my red peacoat, and then he’s dusting me off. Cupping my face, running his thumb over my cheek. Bending down to kiss me, our lips barely touching.
The credits roll, and I catch the eye of my seat neighbor as he glances from the screen to me, then back to the screen.
“Is that? No, it can’t be…” He shakes his graying head, adjusting his glasses.
I debate what to say here, never knowing if the person is going to be an ordinary sort or the stalker type.
“Er…yeah. That’s me.” I keep my voice low, hoping this guy’s not going to be a card-carrying member of the latter camp.
“Wow. I’m sitting next to a famous actress. Would you mind signing this?” He shoves his cocktail napkin over the pebbly gray tray.
Holding my eye roll in check, I take the white paper napkin from him, scrawling my signature with the pen he extends.
“Here you go.”
“Thanks! This is so cool. Wait until I tell my mother. She and her bridge club get together once a week for movie night during the entire month of December. They can’t get enough of the Christmas Network! She’s a huge fan of yours.”
I didn’t know I had any of those left.
“You’re welcome. And that’s nice to hear.” I turn back to my own screen, fiddling with the remote in an effort to shut down the conversation.
I’m not too into people, fans or otherwise.
“Are you headed down to Candy Cane Key to make a movie? I bet that would be a great spot to film.”
OMG. This guy’s not gonna let it go.
I nod, working hard to tamp down my aggravation. Last thing I need is bad press from some asshole close by filming our convo, then plastering it all over social media.
“I am. But shhh….it’s on the down low,” I whisper, pressing my finger to my lips. His brows knit, still confused.
“It’s a secret.”
“Oh. Got it.” He runs his finger over his lips, then tosses his hand over his shoulder as if he’s throwing away a key. “My lips are zipped. Your secret’s safe with me.” He winks conspiratorially, and I stifle a groan.
Mercifully, a flight attendant comes on over the PA, interrupting our conversation.
“Please return your seat backs to the upright position and stow all your belongings in preparation for landing.”
I hand my trash to the attendant circulating through the cabin and say a quick prayer for a safe landing and a rapid movie shoot.
