Two-Step - Stephanie Fournet Page 0,6

if I taught the Samba, one of her favorite dances, but she’s just as happy to hear me say that I did the second time.

And this is how we move around the courtyard, walking in big circles. Talking in smaller and smaller ones.

Chapter Three

IRIS

I step carefully—oh so carefully—out of my trailer and find Ramon and Sally waiting for me. Sally’s holding a cardboard tray with three takeout cups. I reach for the one with a tea bag tag fluttering beneath the lid.

The very last thing I need right now is coffee, but I’m grateful for the chamomile and lavender brew.

“Are you feeling any better?” Sal asks, wincing.

I pop off the plastic lid and blow across the surface of the steaming tea. “Well, let’s just say, I don’t recommend a mango-cayenne pepper juice cleanse the day after a Brazilian wax.”

“Girl.” Ramon closes his eyes with a shudder. “I’m standin’ right here.”

“I have three words for you.” I wait until my assistant recovers and meets my gaze. “Ring. Of. Fire.”

Ramon shields his eyes, groaning, “Iris.”

Sally hides her laughter behind the back of her hand.

“You think she’s funny?” Ramon accuses my best friend.

Sal shrugs. “I just got my master’s degree in early childhood education,” she says. “I’ve spent the last year researching in the field, which for me is the kindergarten classroom. My sense of humor may have actually regressed since I reached adulthood.”

“Not to mention she just spent two weeks in the woods with me without indoor plumbing,” I say, giggling.

Ramon waves his hands in a frantic plea. “I don’t want to hear about girls farting in tents or pooping in the woods. Preserve the illusion. Girls don’t fart or poop.”

“You only think that because you don’t date any of them long enough for them to drop the pretense of some kind of superhuman perfection.”

Ramon nods with vigor. “I want the pretense. I’m all about the pretense.”

I shoot Sally a look. “You still think he’s cute?”

She ignores me. “Just so you know,” she says, hooking a thumb in my direction. “It’s just her. She’s the only one who farts and poops. I don’t.”

Ramon’s smile is epic. “Of course, you don’t, gorgeous.” He grabs her hand and brings it to his lips. Sally actually sways toward him.

Oh, hell no.

“May I remind you of the night you ate those bean burritos?” I say, showing no mercy. “I thought I’d need a hazmat suit.”

“Iris!” Sally shrieks. Ramon drops her hand, and I beam in triumph.

We’ve caught the attention of some of the members of the crew who stand back from the set to watch and laugh. Good. I like making people laugh. But when it’s the crew, it’s even better. This is a totally new team from the series, and even though we won’t be with them as long, the last thing I want them thinking is that I’m some prima donna. It’s one thing to take the work seriously. Taking yourself too seriously is something else. And, unfortunately, this business is full of actors who take themselves too seriously.

If the crew sees that I can laugh at myself and joke around my friends, they’ll know I’m just a regular person, and they can relax around me and do their thing. The show will be more fun for everyone.

It was like that on the series. Like we were a little family. I miss it.

But before I can make myself the butt of this joke, Moira tears through the line of camera handlers and grips, glaring lasers at me.

“Iris. What are you doing?” she hisses at me, her voice sotto voce. “Are you making crass jokes on the first day?”

She grabs my arm and tugs me toward the trailer. “We have to discuss some scene changes,” she announces to everyone who’s watching before herding me up the steps.

I send Ramon a quick S.O.S., and he grabs Sally and brings up the rear. Moira glares at them as they enter.

“I said I needed to talk to her.” At Moira’s tone, Sally’s eyes go wide, but Ramon’s expression flattens out.

“You said scene changes,” Ramon echoes smoothly. “You know I help her prep, and while Sally’s here, she’s running lines with us too.”

The part about Sally is a lie, but Ramon has worked for me long enough to know that when Moira’s in a snit, he’s not allowed to leave me alone with her. The fact that he excels at this is one of the many reasons I’ve kept him as my PA for three years.

Of course, another is

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