Lauren shook her head and laughed silently, returning to the solace of her production book. “I can’t believe you just said that,” she murmured. Her dark hair, when Carly studied its length, fell just above her breasts, not that she knew much about them. The clothes Lauren wore to work, while professional enough, didn’t offer too many glimpses of the body beneath, which she had a feeling was being undersold.
“Oh, but I did. I did say it. And there’s more where that came from. I’ll hit you up tomorrow.”
“If you’re on time, I’ll consider it,” Lauren said casually, this time not glancing up from her work.
“Now you’re just tempting me.”
“I’m entirely fine with that.”
Carly noticed that Lauren didn’t socialize with the cast much during their downtime. She maintained a professional distance, which made sense given how she was not only the person who kept them moving forward but, in a way, the disciplinarian as well. Kind of like their very put together camp counselor.
Carly stole another glance. The really, really hot kind you made out with before summer ended.
Chapter Three
Over the course of the next week, several things became clear to Lauren. Number one: Carly Daniel was single-handedly breathing life into each scene without much help from Evelyn Tate, who was still holding back, and turning in a stiff interpretation of Mandy. Number two: Carly Daniel was proving herself to be a total thorn in Lauren’s side. She was chronically late and had twice now organized the cast into a late-night gathering at the bar down the street, leaving them all slower and hungover the next day. She hadn’t memorized any of her lines and didn’t seem to care about simple requests like returning a prop to the prop table when not in use. Number three: she was, conversely, always upbeat, positive, and actually kind of fun to have around. Sigh. Carly Daniel was an interesting problem to have.
“Hey, Lauren?”
“Yep?” Lauren said, looking up from her production binder to see Carly standing next to her with an anticipatory grin. She had some slight blocking corrections to add to her notes, based on the changes Ethan had made at that day’s rehearsal, and hadn’t even heard her approach.
Carly slid a strand of hair behind her ear and flashed the dimple that resided in her right cheek. “I was wondering if you wanted to come out with us tonight? Everyone’s going to meet at Put Upon Pete’s for mango martinis. My treat.”
Oh, man, she hated having to shoot people down, but that outing wasn’t in her best interest. She would celebrate with everyone at the closing party. “Very nice of you, but I have to decline.” The reply was automatic. There was probably a good Dateline waiting for her and a warm bowl of popcorn. She looked back down at her binder, prepared to jump back into work.
“Why?”
She glanced back up at Carly. Lauren hadn’t been prepared for the question. Did she have to explain herself, include the Dateline bit? She stared at Carly, who blinked back at her with big, sad blue eyes. Those eyes were incredibly hard to argue with. It became apparent that this woman wasn’t moving from her spot until Lauren gave her more.
“It’s been a long week. I need to decompress.”
Carly nodded. “But it’s Saturday. No rehearsal tomorrow. Do it. Come be bad with us.”
She sighed. “I’m not sure it’s always the best idea to fraternize with the cast. It’s better for a stage manager to keep a professional distance when possible.”
“But it’s not possible, because your lead wants to see you mingle in a really bad way.” Carly knelt next to Lauren, which showcased the dip of cleavage down the front of her aqua-blue ribbed tunic. Well, that was certainly…attention getting. She quickly glanced away out of respect, but her eyes apparently did what they wanted and slowly drifted back. She was going to hell for this. She’d never objectified an actor before. She had more control than that! What was happening? “So, what do you say?” Carly asked.
Lauren blinked and opened her mouth to try to answer. Didn’t go so well.
“What’s happening right now?” Carly furrowed her brow and followed Lauren’s gaze, glanced down at her shirt, then slowly back to Lauren with eyebrows raised and an intrigued look on her face. Nope, now it was amusement. “Okay. Okay,” she said quietly, like the cat who’d gleefully found the stash of catnip. “I see.”
“What?” Lauren asked, doing her best to play it off. “I don’t think there’s anything to see.”
“No?” Carly asked.
Lauren shook her head. Her face felt hot, and she reached for her water bottle, pretending to study the group in conversation across the room from her table. Yep, something important was clearly going on over there that needed her attention. She needed to make sure all was well. There could be a fist-fight at any moment. Inside, she berated herself for being highly unprofessional, and weak to boot. No wine gulping for her later. She was grounded from the gulp.
“Martinis, then?” Carly asked, standing again.
Lauren glanced back at Carly as if she was an afterthought. “Yeah, I guess I could stop by Pete’s.” What in the world had she just said? Damn it. Yet there had been no other choice but to give Carly what she wanted, or she’d never go away. In that moment, Lauren was so mortified by her own behavior that she desperately needed Carly to walk away and give her a moment to breathe and experience the unrelenting self-recrimination in peace. Luckily, she did just that.
Tops of tan breasts were hard to scrub from one’s brain, apparently. Lauren knew firsthand. The fact that Carly had likely come by them by sunbathing topless was an image she probably shouldn’t imagine. Yet she damn well did, to traitorous response from her body. She spent the rest of rehearsal trying to stop that image from infiltrating her brain. Failure struck. Her mouth was chronically dry, and her temperature remained warm. Lauren focused on her job as best she could, but one thing was clear. Carly affected her and not always for the good. She also hadn’t had sex in over seventeen months, so maybe that played in to things a bit. Not like she was counting or anything.
Once everyone had left for the day, Lauren and Trip put the room back together, moving bits of stand-in rehearsal scenery back to their assigned spots in the room. Though the rehearsal studio belonged entirely to The McAllister, so no production except for Starry Nights would use it, it was important to keep the room in top condition for when they arrived back to work on Monday. “Hey, I’ve got the rehearsal report pretty much ready to send. Can you update our end times and projected daily for Monday?”
“On it,” Trip said. “You going to Pete’s? Carly’s throwing another bash. Say yes. She’s a lot of fun.”
“That’s what TMZ says.”
“Don’t be uptight, Lala. You can have fun, too. There’s no law. I checked.”
She sighed. “Fine. Nine tonight, right?” She was trying to come up with some way to get out of this thing. Court TV was back, and they likely had a killer to put on the witness stand. She wouldn’t want to miss crucial testimony from a killer. She mentally winced at her own line of thinking. God, she’d become boring. A lonely little shut-in.
“She says nine, but no one will be there until ten.”