“Your door was open.” I sound lame. I am lame.
She shrugs dismissively. “You can close it if it bothers you.”
“I didn’t say…” I stop and cross my arms. I’m the fucking director here. If anybody should try to get on anyone’s good side, it should be her. “Are you going to act like a resentful child throughout this production?”
She tilts her head back, green eyes burning in a fierce challenge. “Are you going to apologize for being a dick?”
“No.”
“No?”
“Because, I wasn’t being a dick. I was being frank about what I expected from you. Now you, acting like a diva who didn’t get her way…making it obvious that you have some sort of beef with me…you’re being a dick.”
“I’m being a…” She chokes. “You’re unbelievable!”
“And you’ve been mad for days because you think I should have been excited about auditioning an inexperienced actress whose only credential, to the best of my knowledge is that her father is producing the play. That’s diva behavior, Liz.” I shrug. “Why do you care so much what I said, anyway? You got the part. Isn’t that enough?”
She looks as if she’s going to cry. “I don’t care,” she mumbles, brushing past me. Her arm touches my chest, making me tense. Soft wisps of her hair brush against my chin. She smells intoxicating, like the first cool breeze of autumn.
And she cares what I think.
Why?
And why do I care so much if she resents me or not?
I know the answer. It’s because I’m drawn to her in ways even I can’t explain.
She has already swung past me and is heading down the corridor. I shut the door, my eyes going to her name printed on the nameplate.
I need to stay away from her. She is inexperienced, and she is my lead actress. I might be young, but I’ve seen enough to know that working relationships are better with no complications and complexities.
I will stay away from her. It’s as simple as that.
Chapter Seven
Liz
“Why do you care so much what I said?”
I’ve asked myself that question over and over. Why do I care?
I’ve never been so wrong about someone. How could I have liked him, admired him for so long when he’s just another arrogant asshole?
Aidan Court could be the most talented director in the world, but it doesn’t change the fact that I hate him.
So much.
My phone beeps.
“What are you doing?” Fiona says when I answer. “Stewing about the nasty Aidan Court again? I’m bored.”
“You’re always bored…” I sigh. “And who is Aidan Court? I don’t know anyone by that name.”
“Ohhhhh…That’s how we’re playing it. I like. Let’s go shopping…or let’s go to a party and flirt with guys.”
I like the idea of meeting guys and maybe getting Aidan out of my head.
“Which party?” Attending a regular college for her English Lit degree instead of a drama program like mine means she usually knows where the best parties are.