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Normally, I might have argued with him. But right now, the script was burning a hole through my conscience. I grabbed the backpack from April and walked out of the room, ignoring Jamie’s pleas of, “Wait, you’re not allowed to leave this room.”
I knew where the golf course was. When I was in high school, my teachers hired it out for sports days and while I wasn’t very good at getting the ball in the hole, I had fun trying to hit the ball higher and further than my friends.
My fake leg wasn’t designed for running, but I pushed through the awkwardness to sprint to the golf course. It was a fifteen minute run from the main building and by the time I reached the pro shop, I was panting and my prosthesis was sweaty and uncomfortable.
The trailers were large caravans that must have been as long as the front of my dad’s house. There were at least twenty of them.
How would I know which one was Brooke’s?
I jogged between them. The largest ones were on the side closest to the first green and I figured they’d probably belongto the lead actors, but other than their size, they looked as unremarkable as all the others, and there was no way to tell them apart. Their exteriors were white. The windows were tinted, and too high off the ground for me to see through, anyway. I could knock on the doors, but the idea of interrupting Dean, Wyatt, or Isaac while they were sleeping filled me with a sense of uneasiness that I couldn’t shake.
I paced between the trailers, searching for a clue as to which one was Brooke’s — a shirt hung in the window, or a discarded hair tie on the ground — something that would identify her trailer from the others.
And then I heard a woman’s voice. It sounded faint at first, but as I jogged in its direction, it became clearer.
Even though I could only hear snippets of what she was saying, I recognized Brooke’s voice. She was angry.
“No, I didn’t lose the fucking script.” There were a few seconds of silence, and then, “Shove your non-disclosure agreement up your ass.”
My heart thumped, but this script wasn’t mine, and I had to give it back to her. I climbed the steps and rapped my knuckles on the door three times. Brooke’s voice dropped too low for me to hear again and she threw the door open so fast I almost fell down the stairs.
“What?”
I’d never seen someone look so angry before. Especially not someone so gorgeous. Brooke’s brown hair framed her picture-perfect face in a way that most people would have to pay a hairdresser hundreds of dollars for, and her skin literally glowed.
Only her eyes showed her true emotions, and they were full of daggers.
“I found…” I started, pulling my backpack off my shoulders to fish out the script, but Brooke didn’t even let me finish my sentence.
“You extras are all so fucking needy,” she spat. “No, I won’t sign your autograph, take a selfie, or pass your card to my agent.” She returned her attention to the phone pressed to her ear and stepped back into the trailer. “You tell Marnie that my lawyer…”
She slammed the door, and I was left there, stunned, as her voice became garbled. Another trailer door opened and Dean stepped out, walking down the steps like it was the most normal thing in the world. His dark hair was all over the place, like he’d just been asleep.
He was hot, even wearing a wrinkled t-shirt, and I felt heat rise in my cheeks.
“What’s going on?”
Brooke’s aggression had sent my body into fight-or-flight mode, and every muscle fiber told me torun. I’d already broken so many rules coming here — leaving the conference room, interacting with the actors — and surely Brooke was on a new call right now, asking security to escort me from the resort. But I still had to return this script, and Dean at least looked like he was going to listen to what I had to say.
I unzipped my backpack and pulled out the bound document.
“I found this.” I tried not to let my hands tremble as I walked towards him, even though my heart thumped as though I was meeting actual royalty. “I tried to give it back, but…”
“Don’t worry about Brooke,” Dean said, and for the first time, I noticed that his eyes were just as blue in real life as they were on camera. He gave me a sympathetic look as he took the script. “I’ll make sure it gets back to her.”
He turned to climb back into his trailer, but I couldn’t let him leave yet. I didn’t know why it was important, but I needed to make sure he knew that I wasn’t a thief or a celebrity stalker.
“I didn’t steal it,” I blurted out, and he turned back with one foot on the step to survey me with his ocean-blue eyes. Even with his hair messed up, he was absurdly gorgeous.
“I’ll make sure she knows that.” He gave me a wry smile, and his dimples popped. “Can’t guarantee she’ll believe me, but you never know.”
He disappeared into his trailer and I stood there dumbly for a few moments, overwhelmed by both interactions. It already felt like a dream… had I really just spoken totheDean Hart? But then reality came crashing back, and I remembered that I was supposed to be in the conference room. I sprinted back the way I’d come, almost falling over the woman with the clipboard as I ran back into the room.
“Sorry… bathroom…” I gasped.
April was standing against the wall with a few other extras, including Jamie and Jerome.
“What took you so long?” she hissed as I joined her. “She called both our names, and you almost missed it. We’re going to be in the movie!”
