“And why not?” He frowned at her, obviously irritated by her stubbornness to play his game.
“To be a beautiful actress, one must first be beautiful. Only then are acting skills relevant.”
Julian narrowed his gaze at her. She squirmed under the scrutiny. They both knew she wasn’t Hollywood starlet material; there wasn’t any need to look so closely and pick apart the details of her failures.
He reached out and took her hand in his. “Did you know that Bridgette has a mustache she has to get waxed off? She’s also not really a blonde, and most of her hair is made up of extensions. Her breasts are fake. Her nose is fake. Everything about her is fake.”
“And she looks good.” The money was well invested in her career if what he said was true. If Gretchen had a couple grand just lying around, she might make a few improvements herself.
“Julia Monroe is legally blind when she isn’t wearing her contact lenses. If her makeup artist doesn’t contour her face just right, she looks like a guy after a losing boxing match.”
Julia Monroe was one of the biggest and most sought-out actresses in Hollywood. Gretchen had a hard time believing she could look anything but stunning.
“Rochelle Voight has the longest nose hairs I’ve ever seen on a woman, and her breath is always rancid. I think it’s because all she ever eats or drinks are those green juices. I hate when I have to kiss her or film close scenes.”
Was he serious? “Why are you telling me all this?”
“Because you need to know that it’s all an illusion. Every single one of the Hollywood beautiful people you’ve compared yourself to is a carefully crafted character designed just for the cameras. We’re far from perfect, and more than a few of us couldn’t even be described as beautiful without our makeup and hair teams.”
“You’re telling me everyone in Hollywood is secretly ugly, so I shouldn’t feel bad.”
He smirked and leaned in to drive home his point. “I’m saying you’re an attractive woman—a realistically attractive woman. You shouldn’t put yourself through the wringer comparing yourself to an unrealistic ideal. It’s all fake.”
Gretchen’s brows went up in surprise. Even with her makeover, she felt as if Julian were only tolerating her because he couldn’t get out of the arrangement. Could he actually believe what he said, or was he just trying to boost her ego enough to get them through this week together?
“Everything about me is fake, too,” he said.
It was easy to believe the women he’d spoken about were painted to perfection, but everything on Julian looked pretty darn real to her. “Come on,” she chided, pulling her hand from his. She knew he was putting her on now.
“No, I’m serious. These baby blue eyes are colored contacts. The highlights in my hair are fake. My teeth are porcelain veneers because my parents couldn’t afford braces when I was younger. My tan is sprayed on weekly. Even my accent is fake.”
“You don’t have an accent,” she argued.
“Exactly. I’m from Kentucky,” he said with an unmistakable twang he’d suppressed earlier. “I have an accent, but you’re never going to hear it from me because I hide it like everything else.”
Gretchen sat back against the cushions of the couch and tried to absorb everything he was telling her. It was a lot to take in all at once.
“We may all have fake hair and wear makeup and put ourselves through all sorts of abuses to chase the elusive beauty and youth, but we’re all actors. This is just our costume. So think of your new makeover as your costume. You’ve been given all the tools you need. Are you ready to play the role of Julian Cooper’s girlfriend?”
She took a deep breath and straightened up in her seat. “I think so.”
He cocked his head to the side and lifted a brow at her in challenge.
“I am,” she corrected with faux confidence in her voice. “Let’s do this. Where do we start?”
Julian smiled and turned to face her on the couch. “Okay. When I was in acting school, one of my professors was adamant about throwing the hardest scenes at us first. He didn’t let us warm up or start with a less challenging part. We had to open with the dramatic soliloquy. His theory was that once you did that, everything else would come easier. So we’re going to start with the hardest part of your role.”
Gretchen tensed beside him. The hardest part? It all seemed pretty challenging. She’d be much happier working her way up to the comfort level she needed to pull this off. “How are you—”