"What? No." Frannie laughs, but there's something about the sound that makes me think she's lying, and that's exactly what Rip was telling her. "From Ronald, actually."
"The head of the studio," Lyle tells me. Then he looks back at Frannie. "Nice to know our boss takes such a personal interest."
"Mmm."
"Speaking of the studio, we should probably think like publicists." He waves, and one of the photographers wandering the crowd rushes over. "Why don't we get a picture with all three of us?"
"Lovely idea," Frannie says, easing between us and smiling as the photographer snaps a series of shots, the popping flash making me see spots.
Once the photographer leaves, she starts to pull out one of the two vacant stools. "I understand you two have been dating for a while," she says to me. "Where on earth has he been keeping you?"
"In bed, mostly," I say evenly, then hide my glee as Frannie's eyes go wide, and Lyle almost spits out his drink.
"Oh," Frannie says, then actually laughs. "Well, good for you." She pushes the stool back in, then winks at Lyle. "I like her. I hope she comes with you to the set once we start shooting. Ta."
Then she waggles her fingers, flashes a million dollar smile, and disappears into the throng.
"I'm sorry," I say. "That just came out."
"Are you kidding? You were brilliant."
"I didn't piss her off? I wasn't sure if that was a real or a sarcastic invitation."
"Real," Lyle assures me. "Frannie admires people who can hold their own. I think you just sealed my freedom from being the apple of her eye."
"Good," I say. "After all, as your girlfriend, I want you all to myself."
That just popped out, too, and the moment I say it, I wish I could call it back, especially as I'm pretty sure I see a shadow darken Lyle's gorgeous blue eyes.
I tell myself I'm being overly sensitive. After all, he's the one who wanted method acting. Still, I'm relieved when the silence is broken by the arrival of a tall woman with an athletic build, long dark hair, and a face that looks familiar, but that I can't quite place.
"This is so incredible," she says to Lyle. "Thank you so much for wrangling me an invitation."
"Just one of the many perks of working for me," Lyle says. "Natasha Black, meet Laine."
"Great to meet you," she says, extending her hand. "I would say that I've heard all about you, but we both know that would be a lie. And I'm pretty sure lying is grounds for getting fired, and I actually kind of like my job."
I bite back a s
mile. Not only because I like her, but because I've remembered where I know her from. And the truth is, I've always liked her. "You actually have heard all about me," I say. "We went to high school together. You were two years ahead of me."
Her eyes widen. "Sugar? Holy coincidence, Batman, I haven't seen you in years. How are you?" She tosses her head toward Lyle. "Slumming, huh?"
I bite back a laugh. "Pretty much. But, you know, you take what you can get."
"Nice," Lyle says.
"Whatever happened with you and Harry?" I ask, referring to the boy she dated our junior and senior years.
She makes a face. "That's over," she says, and her voice is so tight that I know better than to press the question.
I'm starting to think I completely screwed up this particular conversation when she shakes her head, as if the thought of Harry is nothing more than an irritating gnat. "Listen, I only have a second. I saw Lyle and I told some friends that I'd be right back. But we should play catch up soon. Lunch, maybe. Or cocktails one night when he's not wining and dining you."
"I'd love to."
"Maybe one night when I'm training with Riley," Lyle says, surprising me, because making fake future plans seems a little unnecessary for a one time gig, even if we are doing the method acting thing. "We could meet up with you two after he tortures me."
He's watching her face as he talks, and so I take his lead and do the same, immediately noticing the way her cheeks stain and her eyes dip to the table.