Bootycall 2 - J. D. Hawkins Page 0,3

haven’t slept much. I will tell myself that this is because I really want this project to happen. I will do my best to convince myself that what I’m saying actually makes sense. But the truth of why I’m saving an asshole like Dylan is much harder to face.

“He decided to meet a couple of friends in Vegas for a few drinks – nothing especially crazy. Just to share his excitement about the role with a few friends. It got a little out of hand, but not because of him. I think he just wanted to have one last hurrah since he knew he’d be keeping himself disciplined for the rest of the film shoot.”

Miss Wiseman and Michael look at each other, and then like magic their disapproving looks changing into reasonable expressions of understanding.

“So you’d say his mental state seems to be in the right place—no danger of going off the rails any minute? You think he’s ready to focus on the project?”

I find myself nodding slowly. “Yes. He seems very focused. Very committed.”

I don’t believe any of it for a second. But if I say it out loud, maybe it’ll come true. Or maybe I’m just tying my own noose. I should really rework my resume.

“I’m not one for repetition, Gemma, and I know you must tire of hearing me say this,” Miss Wiseman says earnestly, “but there is a substantial amount of money invested in this project. Any slip or lapse of judgment by Mr. Marlowe – or yourself – will severely impact a lot of people. We’re really counting on you to keep him in hand.”

The weight of this responsibility is enough to make me dizzy, but I force out a smile and try to appear unfazed. “Of course. I understand completely.”

Michael sighs. “Ok. Well I guess we should start making this movie, then. We’ll see you on set. Thanks, Gemma. Keep up the good work.”

“Thank you,” I say to both of them as I stand up and leave.

My head drops as I step outside, and I take in a shaky breath and rub at the increasing throb of my headache. I don’t even realize my eyes are closed until I bump into what feels like a brick wall. It’s not, it’s just Dylan’s chest.

“Dylan! Were you…waiting outside?”

“Yeah, sort of. I was just looking for you.”

His eyes are soft, his face honest, but right now I’m the only person who knows how good of an actor Dylan really is.

“Did you…hear any of that?”

He nods. “A little.”

He must know I covered for him if he was eavesdropping. But does it matter? It’s not like he’s going to turn into the well-behaved, polite, punctual person I need him to be. “So…”

“Thank you,” he says, and it’s so convincing I almost believe him.

“Sure.” I start walking and he follows me. I glance up at him.

“Look, Gemma—”

“We need to get you to hair and make-up,” I say, pointing the way as I walk toward the trailer. My voice as formal and cold as I can make it. I won’t be sucked in by his games again, and he needs to know it.

“I owe you an apology,” he says, dodging crewmembers as he tries to keep in step with me. I keep my eyes forward and clutch my tablet closely to my chest. “For everything. For dragging you out to Vegas, and leaving you again, and then after—”

“Your personal life is your own business,” I say curtly, raising a hand to indicate I don’t need any more details. Dylan provides them anyway.

“I didn’t do anything bad when I left you. I really was out walking. I went to—”

“I don’t need to know the details,” I say, though the way my voice sounds even I wouldn’t believe myself.

Just before we reach the steps that lead up to the door of the make-up trailer, Dylan gently takes my arm and turns me toward him. I let him.

“You’re right, Gemma. About a lot of things. Ok? We both need this movie to be a success, so instead of fighting each other, we should be trying to help each other.”

“I’ve not been anything but helpful towards you, Dylan.”

“And I’ve done nothing to jeopardize this movie. Look, I’m here, I’m sober, I’m about to get ready to work.”

I nod and look aside. Knowing that he’s right.

“I know it’s difficult for you to be in this position,” he says, the humble warmth of his voice soothing my headache like a pill, “but it’s difficult for me too,