Nathan said, “Nick, would you come inside for a minute?”
No one on the set said anything. It was like someone had died. Nick’s career, maybe? The tech people shuffled in place, fiddling with their equipment. Transmitting word of Nick’s failure to the gossip feeds?
She waited until the door closed behind them before following them inside.
They were at the other end of the service corridor, next to his office, when Nathan spotted her. Not that she was trying to sneak. Instead of shooing her away, though, he gestured her inside with a tilt of his head.
All the tension that had been simmering on the set when she left followed her into the room, concentrated and unbearable. Nick glanced up at her entrance, set his jaw and appeared annoyed. After that, no one looked at each other.
Finally, Nathan said, “This isn’t working.”
Nick tightened his fists and begged. “I’m close to getting it right, Nathan. I can feel it. I’m this close—” He showed thumb and forefinger touching. “I just need a little more time.”
It was a small comfort that at least Nick realized he wasn’t any good.
Nathan shook his head. “There’s a thousand actors in this town with stage and camera experience who’d kill for a shot at this. It’s nothing personal, Nick. It just doesn’t make a whole lot of economic sense for me to spend time with you when I can pull someone off the street who’s ready to go now. I’m sorry.”
Nick paced a small circle, looking away, turning back like he wanted to say something, but no words revealed themselves. Cass had never seen him like this, tension running through his whole body, a frustrated snarl twisting his features, his arms clenched like he wanted to break something. He never even looked like this around paparazzi. Even Patton Walsh never looked like this.
Nick closed his eyes and took a deep breath, calming himself. When he was finally ready to speak, his voice didn’t shake. Much.
“I’ve never failed at anything. My career’s one long string of lucky breaks, I know that and I’m grateful for it, don’t think I’m not. But here, I thought if I actually worked for something, it might . . . I don’t know. Mean something.”
Cass’s turn to speak. Her voice caught, making her sound even softer than usual. Not that anything she could say would help.
“I’m sorry. I tried everything I could think of, and I don’t know what else to do because the skills are there, you know what to do, it just—” She gestured vaguely. “—isn’t happening. I don’t know what to say.”
Angrily, he brushed her words aside. “Oh come on, Cass. This isn’t your fault. It’s not like I’m some interactive fantasy you can change at will, push a button and turn me into Humphrey Bogart, or . . . or Patton Walsh. You’re not the actor, I am. It was up to me and I blew it. You don’t have anything to do with this.”
Then, something happened. His expression went slack for a moment, a light dawning, a realization overcoming him. He narrowed his gaze, which dropped for a moment. The room had fallen dead still while Cass and Nathan let Nick think.
After the space of several heartbeats, he glared at Cass. “Did you guys set me up? At the party, you coming onto me—”
She’d come on to him? Was that how it had happened? If she’d had her link on at the time she could have played it back, but no, the scene was lost to memory now.
“Did Nathan put you up this? I can just hear it. ‘Yeah, we get Nick May on board and investment capital will come pouring in. Cass, you’re on it. Soften him up a little.’ ”
She stared at him, amazed. Didn’t he know her well enough to know how incapable she was of such . . . conniving? She couldn’t even flirt, much less seduce anyone for commercial gain. “Nick, that’s just a little ridiculous.”
“Is it? Come on, think about it. Everyone in the business knew that it didn’t matter how much of an artistic hotshot Nathan was, without a name actor he wouldn’t get a cent of funding. So you threw a big party to see who showed up, sent your little minions out to bait the hook. Must have been a big shock to find out I didn’t have any talent.”
Cass had never thought of herself as bait and was almost flattered.
Nathan smirked. “Sounds like a movie plot to me.”
The actor gave a bitter huff of a laugh and turned away. “I should have known. I should have known the minute you guys took me seriously.”
Cass dared a step toward him. “Nick, calm down, you’re pulling this out of thin air—”
By now, he’d worked himself up to shouting. “Christ, Cass. For the first time I’m thinking, here’s someone who doesn’t care what I do for a living, who doesn’t care about the fame, who I can be around without any pressure—and it was all fake.”
“No!” she said, her voice gone thin and high-pitched. Her eyes went wide. “No, Nick, I—” I love you. She hadn’t said those words to him yet. She choked on them now. Swallowed. Tried it again. “Nick, I can’t stand not being with you. There was never any conspiracy, I met you totally by accident, and I—I love you.”
The anger sputtered a moment. He stared, unable to retort immediately. But suspicion still darkened his features. “I’m booted off the film. You don’t have to pretend anymore. And you—” He pointed at Nathan. “—you can just take your cameras and—” Rather than finish the thought, he let out a growl, made a dismissive toss with his hand, and stalked out of the room.
Her eyes were burning. She would not cry. She wouldn’t. Wiping tears away, she wondered why she wasn’t running after Nick, and realized her legs wouldn’t move.