Hollywood Roommates

21

“We both know you miss these lips,” Nadia says, as she pours antibacterial gel all over her hands. “I can tell every time we kiss.”

I give her a scathing look. “It’s called acting. You should try it sometime.”

Jackson, our director, sighs at me and Nadia like we’re kids who are misbehaving. “You two, take a break. And when you come back, I want your A game.”

I give him a sharp nod and head toward the door leading outside, where my trailer waits. But I’m stopped by one of our executive producers, Martin.

“Shane. A word, please?”

Inside Martin’s office, two other producers are inside, Wendy and Liam. I have a sudden flashback to being called in to the principal’s office as a kid.

“Have a seat, Shane,” Martin says. He doesn’t sit though, just props himself up on the cabinet behind his desk. A power position, my father would say. I decide to remain standing.

“I’m fine. What’s this about?”

Martin’s lips press together when he sees I won’t sit. “We wanted to talk with you about Nadia.”

“Specifically about you and Nadia,” Wendy adds.

“There is no me and Nadia. Not anymore.”

“That’s the problem,” Liam says.

I cross my arms. “It’s not an issue.”

“We disagree, and so does the network,” Martin says. “The two of you used to have great chemistry. Then everything changed at the end of last season.”

I give him a stare that I hope conveys how much a waste of time I find this conversation to be. “You know what she did.”

He waves his hand. “Yes, of course. But at the end of last season, ratings were down and viewers weren’t happy.”

“I’m not sure how that’s my fault,” I grit out.

Wendy folds her hands in her lap and speaks patiently. “We spent two seasons building the romance between your characters, but then after you got together the relationship felt flat because it was obvious to everyone that you two hated each other.”

“What exactly are you saying?” I ask.

“Nadia’s talking about leaving the show,” Martin says. “Maybe doing a spinoff series for the network.”

“Good riddance. We don’t need her anyway.”

“The network disagrees,” Liam says. “They’re threatening to cut our show order. Twelve episodes instead of twenty-four.”

Every muscle in my body tenses. “They can’t do that.”

“And if that happens, you can guarantee this will be our last season,” Martin says.

“We’re fighting for the show,” Wendy says, her voice calm. “But you need to prove to everyone that you and Nadia can work together. Viewers want romance, even on a superhero show. You have to give that to them. Either it needs to spark again, or we need to figure something else out to save our show.”

I run a frustrated hand through my hair. “What am I supposed to do? You’ve seen how she is.”

Martin gives me an even look. “Figure it out. Talk to her. Go to therapy. Get back together with her if you have to. I don’t f*****g care. But if you don’t, we’re all going to be out of a job in a few months.”

They dismiss me and I storm out of the office, past the makeup department where Nadia is getting touched up, and out the door to the lot. As the star of the show, my trailer is the biggest one, and I throw open the door with a loud bang.

“I’m guessing the kissing scene went as well as expected then,” Hannah says, from her spot on the leather couch inside. She’s Asian, gorgeous, and the only person who makes work tolerable these days. Her legs are propped up on my table, but I’m used to it by now.

“Even worse,” I say, as I head to the mini bar. “The producers all called me in for a meeting.”

Hannah sits up straight, her long black hair falling around her shoulders. She’s not in her geeky hot outfit anymore, which means she must be done shooting for the day. Hannah plays Jenna, a hacker and the best friend of my character—Talon—on the show. “What did they want?”

I pour myself a vodka and slump onto the couch across from her. “This season is going to be our last unless I can work s**t out with Nadia.”

“Holy crap. What are you going to do?”

I run through my options as I sip my drink. Getting back together with Nadia is not an option, especially when I can’t stop thinking about Allie all day long. There’s got to be some other way to save the show, but I’m coming up blank so far.

“Damned if I know,” I finally say. “But I’ll figure something out.”

I have to.

Chapter Seventeen

ALLIE

This house is freezing. I don’t understand why I need to wear a sweater in my bedroom when it’s 85 degrees outside. I blame Shane. He gave me strict orders not to touch the thermostat, which he keeps set to Arctic levels even when he isn’t here all day.

No more.

I creep upstairs like a burglar until I find the controls, then adjust the temp from 65—seriously, his electric bill must be ridiculous!—to 75. I’ll have to make sure to change it back before he gets home. When I’m back in my room I turn on my TV (the one we rescued from Parker) as background noise while I get ready for my date with Keith tonight. An episode of Shane’s show Talon is airing, one from the beginning of last season. I check the guide and discover they’re running an entire marathon of it in preparation for the new season starting soon.