Chapter Five

“WHAT was the most frustrating moment filming High Water?”

The question was for Drew, and he took a moment, arranging himself more comfortably in the talk-show chair. Gloria, the host, waited patiently while Austin and Leigh, his costars from the film, turned expectantly toward him.

“Honestly I think the whole film was pretty grueling,” Drew said as Austin and Leigh nodded along. It was a drama about a seemingly perfect ranching family that lived under the tyrannical rule of an abusive father who was slowly dying of liver disease. Drew had played the prodigal son—a character who started out unlikeable because of his estrangement from his family but won the audience over as his family’s twisted nature came to light. “But there was this one moment….”

“Oh my God, are you ever going to let it go?” Leigh flopped back theatrically in her chair.

“No!” Okay, so he was playing it up for the camera, but it really had been frustrating at the time. He turned to Gloria to explain. “See, in the movie there’s this really emotional moment—I won’t spoil it for anyone who hasn’t seen it.” The abusive father finally died before he and Drew’s character could reconcile. “And look, I’ve been working on being able to cry on command since I was twelve, but I’ve never actually had a director ask me to do it until now.

“So we’re doing this scene, and the whole family is in it, and the director wants to do it in a continuous shot. It’s grueling, and we all manage to screw it up at least once before we even get to the end. Just a really long day.” In the end that had really made the scene, because the characters were supposed to be exhausted and brittle. But at the time, Drew just felt tired and sweaty and done. “The first time we get to the end of the scene, I storm out, and there’s all this pressure riding on me to call up the tears so we don’t have to go through this hell again.”

“I’m gonna tell Danny you said that,” Austin quipped.

Leigh snorted. “Good, maybe he won’t torment others in the future.”

Drew actually liked the continuous shots Danny was famous for as a director, and was pretty sure Leigh did too. He thrived on challenges. But that hadn’t stopped him from wanting to strangle Austin just a little the third time he messed up the blocking. “Anyway.” He shot Gloria an apologetic smile for the interruptions. “After all that, crying on cue? Easy as pie. Just one problem: we’re filming on location in Oklahoma. And in the perfect moment of pathetic fallacy, just as I squeeze out the first tear, the f—reaking skies open”—oops, live television—“and absolutely drench everything. So anything after the first half a second is tears of frustration because I was all set to have this emotional snotty ugly cry on camera, and I know this is the take we’re using, and it’s all for nothing.”

Leigh patted his hand. “There, there.”

Gloria took control of the conversation again to engage Leigh and Austin a little more and have them introduce a scene from the movie. Drew sat back and let them do their thing. As long as someone was here promoting the movie, the studio would be happy. Austin was hungrier for attention than Drew, and Leigh, as a woman, would always have to fight for recognition and airtime.

Eventually, though, the conversation came around to what they were working on now. Austin had lined up a miniseries for Netflix. Leigh was doing voice work for a Lego movie and “Honestly loving it. Though I’m a little jealous I can’t just pop my head off and put on a new one sometimes. Headaches would be a breeze.”

“I could get on board with that,” Gloria laughed. “What about you, Drew? Anything new in the pipes?”

Drew checked his watch. “I’m actually due on set in like two hours.” He only had the morning off because he’d had this appearance scheduled for weeks. “It’s this—I’m going to go out on a limb and call it a labor of love, because it’s a small production that came together kind of at the last minute and was only possible because funding for something else fell through and we snapped up everything we could.”

He knew Austin knew about it since he’d expressed interest in the role of Morgan, but Gloria seemed surprised. Probably because Drew’s publicist hated him for taking on this project. Oh well. He’d get over it.

Drew gave her a quick rundown of the plot and his character. “It’s just a totally different experience from anything I’ve done before. I really have to hand it to Steve Sopol—the writer—the script is sharp. I sort of strong-armed him into acting as well. I don’t know how he keeps a straight face… so to speak. It’s impressive.”

Austin sat forward, gripping the arms of the chair. “Wait, wait, wait, the writer’s got a role in the movie? That usually happens the other way around, doesn’t it? An actor tries their hand at writing?”

With a snort, Drew waved him off. “We’re not doing anything the usual way. Why not a writer as the second-billed actor? Besides, he’s good.”

Leigh huffed a laugh. Austin huffed a plain old huff. “Jeez. Call me next time.”

Not a chance.

When the show wrapped, Leigh met Drew in the ready room, full of questions. “An independent project, huh?” She shook her head. “And here I thought you were in this business for the money.”

“Ha-ha.” He kissed her cheek.

“I’m jealous, honestly. Well, no. Animated movies mean no makeup chair. I win.” She perched on the arm of the couch while he ditched his jacket and button-down. “But I’m glad you’re having fun too.”

“Speaking of having fun.” He waggled his eyebrows. “We still on for Saturday night? Aquarium fundraiser?”

Leigh smoothed a hand over her hair and pursed her lips. “Actually, about that. I need to cancel.”

Drew’s heart sank a bit. He and Leigh had been friends—occasionally friends with benefits—for years, and she was one of the few people he trusted enough to be seen in public with. After all, she was as famous and jaded as he was. She didn’t need to use him as a stepping-stone to better roles. “But penguins and caviar! What could be more important than entertaining me for four hours while I try not to fall asleep on my feet?”

“I’m seeing someone.” She blurted it out quickly, flushing. “Um, yeah. It’s our three-month anniversary. We’re going to Hawaii for a long weekend. Be happy for me?”

He sighed, put-upon. “Well, if you’re ditching me for love. Come give me a hug. And please realize that you’ll be spilling all the details at a makeup event of my choosing. Since when do you even date?” For years Leigh had lived by the same philosophies he did. It was part of why they’d always gotten along.

“I promise to kiss and tell at our earliest mutual convenience,” she said into his shoulder.

“Meanwhile I have a thousand-dollar-a-plate dinner to find a date for.” Drew abruptly pulled back from their embrace and looked around. Still no Austin to invite himself along, thank God.

“Maybe you should take your writer friend,” Leigh suggested wickedly. “It sounds like you’re hitting it off. Are you? Hitting it, I mean.”

Drew speared her with a withering look. “You know better.” He was happy for her, but he was sticking to his rule: no dating anyone in the industry. And since this was Hollywood and everyone he knew was in the industry somehow, that meant no dating. So far his dick hadn’t fallen off, and he was too busy to be lonely.

“I do, but I’m going to tell you disgustingly sweet and true romantic stories to seduce you to the dark side.” She gave him another quick hug. “Now if you weren’t kidding about needing to be on set, I think you better haul ass. You’re gonna be late.”

Drew wanted to stick around and ask more questions about her new—or not-so-new—love interest, or even just catch up on other stuff. But he really did have to leave. “I’m looking forward to those stories.” He kissed her cheek. “Have fun in Hawaii. And let’s hope the traffic gods are smiling on Jorj, or Nina’s gonna have my ass.” Normally driving Drew around wasn’t one of Jorj’s PA duties—Drew preferred autonomy and privacy inasmuch as they were practical—but his schedule was tight today.

Leigh smiled. “Tell her hi from me.”