Riley met her gaze and took another bite of her plate of seafood. “Okay…” she said as Jessica’s silence stretched out.
“He’s the executive producer!” Jessica pitched her voice low, but she was no less obviously stunned. “And you were over there flirting with him like he was a gaffer or something.”
“He asked me to dinner,” Riley said, nearly dropping her fork as the significance of that information filtered through her mind.
Jessica shook her head again, giving Riley an envious look. “You have all the luck,” she said, sighing. “Going out to dinner with the executive producer, my God.”
Riley glanced over in the direction that Mansour had gone off in, the importance of wha
t had just happened registering in her mind. Jessica went on in a low voice about how incredibly lucky Riley was, and how she’d better make the most of the evening out—try and get a better part, or more pay, something to try and get ahead in the production.
All Riley could do was stare in shock as it dawned on her that she had made plans to go to dinner with the most powerful man on the set—more powerful even than the director. Oh God. Oh God, I’m going out with the executive producer of the movie I’m being paid to sabotage.
Riley looked down at her plate as her stomach twisted inside of her and realized she had suddenly lost her appetite.
NINE
By the time she got into her car to drive home, Riley was giving considerable thought to canceling her date with Mansour. A date with the executive producer. This could either make my career or destroy it.
She turned the music up on her stereo as she pulled out of her parking spot, shaking her head at what she’d learned about her date for the evening. “Oh God—what if he’s one of those sleazy guys who hits on all the actresses?” Riley shuddered. She’d met her fair share of producers who traded “a little time in the office” for a part—and although her career had struggled, Riley had managed to avoid it so far. But a date is different, she thought firmly. A date implied that Mansour was interested in more than just a quickie, didn’t it?
For once, Riley was grateful that none of her scenes came up during the day’s shooting; after hearing from Jessica about who Mansour was, any ability to deliver her few lines in character had completely abandoned her. She wasn’t even certain she could have remembered the lines, and as the day wore on she became more and more anxious about Mansour and about their date that evening. When she’d been released to the makeup trailers to undo all of the makeup and costuming she’d taken on that morning, Riley had felt relief for all of a few minutes before her mind returned once more to the stressful knowledge of whom she had made plans with.
Throughout the drive home, Riley’s mind refused to settle on an answer; at one moment she thought she should take the earliest opportunity to message Mansour—who had sent her a text earlier in the day to confirm that he would pick her up at 8—and tell him that she was just too exhausted to go out. The next moment, she would remember the startling, strange instant of connection she’d felt with him, both at the audition and when they’d spoken at the craft services table.
“He can’t be a bad guy,” Riley reflected out loud, sighing as traffic on the freeway slowed to a near stop in front of her. “I mean, if he was anything like Alex, he’d be swaggering around wearing suits, flashing his jewelry every chance he got. And both times I’ve seen him he was in jeans and a tee shirt. He must be pretty humble, considering how powerful he is.”
Riley finally managed to get off of the highway and make her way towards her apartment building, her heart beating faster in her chest as she checked the time and saw that she would have a little over an hour and a half to get ready for her date. Normally that would be more than enough, but Riley thought that she could take an entire day at the spa, being styled and beautified, and still feel intimidated by this particular date.
“He asked me out when I was in a bunch of special effects makeup,” she reminded herself, parking her car and shutting off the engine. “He’s not expecting a Kardashian.”
Riley hurried to her bedroom as soon as she got through the front door of her apartment and plunged into preparing herself for the date. She took a quick shower, stepping out as soon as she had her hair clean and her skin scrubbed, even though the aches in her neck and back made her want to stay under the flowing hot water for just a little while longer. As she showered, Riley remembered Alex—and her deal with him.
“Oh, Christ,” she said with a groan, leaning against the wall. Alex would be all ears once he found out she had a date with the executive producer. Once more she debated whether she should message Mansour and call things off. After a moment, though, the temptation to see what he would be like, to explore the connection she’d felt with him, overwhelmed her sense of caution. “I just won’t tell him,” Riley told herself with a shrug. “At this point it’s none of Alex’s business, and anyway it’s not like Mansour would tell me anything important about the movie on a first date.”
She wrapped her hair in a towel and hurried out of the bathroom to confront her closet. As she had feared, nothing seemed to be quite good enough for a date with an executive producer. Riley sighed, eventually deciding on one of the nicest dresses in her wardrobe, which she still suspected wouldn’t be good enough.
She hung the dress on the door to the bathroom and set to work on her makeup. “I doubt he wants me to look like some vixen,” she said, staring at her face in the mirror as she considered the makeup at her disposal. She decided to keep her features as natural as possible: she applied a neutral eye shadow, a coral-toned lip stain, and just a little bit of blush, blending everything with a little pressed powder to soften it. She spritzed a tiny amount of perfume on at her pulse points and debated how to style her hair.
As she was considering it, Riley thought about Mansour, and about what Jessica had said about him. “What if she was just teasing me? What if he really is just one of the production crew?” Jessica might have thought it would be a fun prank—and Riley didn’t know the other actress well enough to be able to say either way. She went back into her bedroom and opened up her laptop, took a deep breath and typed in Mansour’s name.
At the top of the result page, Riley’s gaze lit on a picture of Mansour; it was undeniably him, in the same jeans and tee shirt she’d seen him in on the day of the audition. “Well that answers one question, at least,” Riley said, nodding slowly. Her date was definitely the executive producer.
Scrolling down the results, she saw something that made her pause.