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“You need to look at each other. You’re besties now!”
Nope.
Jarvis slings his arm around me and tugs me against him.
“Smile,” he growls through a clenched grin.
I force something that can’t be worse than what his mouth is doing.
“Perfect!” Chad says.
Jarvis immediately drops his arm and jumps away like he just realized we were touching. No confusion on my end.
“We done?” he snaps. “I need to get to hair and makeup.”
Seven hours before the show?
“Yes, sir, Mr. McKinnley, sir!” Chad says.
“Great. This changes nothing,” Jarvis fires at me as he stalks toward the door. “Nothing. If anything, it un-changes things that already changed!”
“Absolutely. Not a thing,” I say. “Unless it’s the unchanging things.”
His forehead gets all scrunchy. “You know what they say about people who stick their noses where they don’t belong.”
“No. What?”
I see the moment he discovers he might not know what people say about that.
“Never mind. Send those to my publicist. Do not post a thing yourself,” he directs at Chad, who salutes.
“Aye, aye, Captain. Break a leg tonight! Dallas, am I right? So many horseshoes.”
Jarvis grunts and yanks open the door. Then must realize it’s his dressing room.
“Out,” he growls, waving at those of us who aren’t him.
Gladly.
In a perfect world, I will never again find myself in his dressing room (or near a radiator if this is their main purpose).
He spins away from us and immediately gets lost in his own reflection. He probably doesn’t even remember we’re here once he sees himself.
I’m eagerly following Chad to the exit when I see the open notebook he tossed on a chair by the door earlier. Are those scribbles song lyrics?
Step 1. Get engaged.
Wow. Pure poetry.
Step 2. Get her to dump me.
Whoa. What the hell?
I glance at Jarvis but he’s still busy admiring himself while being “liquified” more aggressively now.
I check the notebook again and see an equally concerning message beside the second one:
(Better if she cheats!!)
