Behind the Scenes(44)

Neither one of those things is right in my book.

The tow truck lumbers into the parking lot and I sag in relief before hopping out of the car to meet the driver. He hooks it up and I’m dismissed, finally able to get to work.

I don’t check my phone on the way there because I don’t want to know what the hour is. All I can do is pray that it’s still some time in the morning. I fiddle my hands around in my lap and give Brendan directions to the lot.

“Are you okay?” he asks, looking sideways at me. We’re only a few streets away from Mulroney Pictures. “You look nervous.”

“I just hate being late.”

“What are they going to do? Fire you? Your car broke down.” The light turns red and he hits the brakes.

“AndI slept in,” I pointed out. “It just makes me look awful.”

“Come on, Sydney. I’m sure you don’t have to try that hard to impress your boss. You’re great. He’ll understand.”

“Hm,” is the only thing I’m capable of.

Actually, there’s a lot Simon Mulroney doesn’t understand.

Brendan looks around eagerly as he pulls into the lot. “Wow,” he says, craning his neck to look at a crane on the other side of the first building. “Is this where they actually make the movies?”

“Some of them, yeah. They film on the back lot.”

“You get to see all that happen?”

“No. I’ve actually never gone past the office.”

“Aw.” He smiles reassuringly at me. “You will someday.”

His pity would make me cringe if I weren’t already full of anxiety.

“Right there,” I say, pointing. “You can just drop me off out front.”

“I can give you a ride home if you want.”

I unbuckle my seat belt and give the offer some thought. I don’t want to take advantage of Brendan’s kindness. Not when there’s so little I can give him in return.

“I’m sure Crystal or Eryk can come pick me up.”

“Okay, well text me if they can’t. And let me know what happens with your car.”

“I will. Thanks.”

I hurry out of the car and close the door behind me. Brendan waves while he drives off. Turning on my heel, I take a quick step for the door.

The sight of Mr. Mulroney stops me in my tracks. He’s standing on the other side of the glass door, still as a statue, his eyes set on my face. His expression is a blank slate.

When I take another step, he pushes the door open for me.

“Thanks,” I mumble. His scent fills my mouth as I walk past him, coming to rest on my tongue.

“Have a good weekend?”

Is it just me, or did the question come out in an incredibly snarky tone?

I’m not backing down. “Yeah,” I cheerily say. “Thanks.”

His eyebrows furrow. I continue moving past him and head for the office. He’s behind me, no more than a few feet. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up and a shiver spirals down my back, again and again. I’m afraid of him and enthralled with him at the same time.

Maybe the two emotions feed each other.

The door to the outer office is open. “Hi,” I say to Dana. “Sorry I’m late.”

She smiles at me. “Sorry about your car.”

Mr. Mulroney brushes by, his hand touching mine the slightest amount. “Sydney,” he says. “In my office, please.”

Chuck grimaces and shoots Daniel a look. Dana bites her lip. Sorry, she mouths at me.

I put on a fake smile and follow the devil into hell.

“Shut the door,” he says.

I do as he asks. He’s sitting on the front edge of his desk, facing me. The curtains are drawn and the only light on is the floor lamp in the corner.

“I’m sorry I was late,” I begin. “My car broke down.”

He crosses his arms. “Who was that boy who dropped you off?”

“Oh, that’s Brendan, he’s…” The words trail off. Why does he want to know?

“One of your roommates?”

“No, he’s my ex-boyfriend.”

I might as well be honest. Playing games isn’t my style, and I’ve already lied enough for one morning.

The only thing that moves on Mr. Mulroney is his jaw, which ticks. I look back at him, waiting for more. He says nothing. Is he expecting me to speak?

Do you need anything?” I’m proud there isn’t a quiver in my voice.

He licks his lips. “No.”

“Okay.” I slowly pivot on my heel, showing my intention to leave.

“Are you seeing him again?”

I blink heavily. “What?”

Tick. Tick. Tick. “Are you seeing that boy again?”

I raise my eyebrows. “You mean like dating? We’ve hung out a couple times, but no. Not really.”