Know Your Heart: A New Zealand - Tracey Alvarez Page 0,28
sand. “I’m kind of clumsy.”
“Not that clumsy.” He grinned over at her. “You threw the snapper like a rugby ball.”
“Drew would’ve been devastated if you and his dad saw him cry over the fish.”
“You acted convincing enough to make him believe it was an accident.”
“I’ll be sure to remind my director of that award-winning performance next time he lists all of my flaws.” She flicked her ponytail over her shoulder.
“I’m sure you don’t have many flaws in front of the camera.”
“That’s when all my flaws show up—at least, according to Julius Santiago. Ten pounds looks like twenty on the big screen. And without Botox, I can just pass for a college freshman, while Hayley Snow could be mistaken for a high school freshman. Damn—bitch alert.” Her neck muscles corded, straining as she shook her head. “Santiago is the best. I’m sure he made the right decision for the movie.”
Glen moistened his lips, which had strangely glued together. He was probably risking his life, but— “You’re saying Santiago replaced you because he thought you were…?” He chickened out, waving a hand vaguely at her.
Any man who didn’t need coke-bottle lens glasses could see Savannah was explosively sexy.
She stopped dead, fisted a hand on her hip and jutted her chin. “Too old and fat? Yeah, that’s exactly what he said, except his words were coated in Hollywood sugar, which didn’t, by the way, make the truth any easier to swallow.”
“The guy’s a moron, and so is his skewed idea of the truth.”
“He’s an experienced director who’s won a number of awards in the industry.”
“Doesn’t make him any less of a moron. But I don’t have to tell you you’re neither over the hill nor in need of a diet.”
Her lush mouth flat-lined and her breathing sped up. He kept his hand clenched at his side when it dearly wanted to tug his shirt away from his neck. Shit. No one liked hearing the four-letter D word.
“I’m not fishing for compliments,” she said.
If telling her she wasn’t old or overweight was the only compliment Savannah expected from him, Glen was off his game more than he realized.
“I’ve been offered the chance to audition for a new sitcom shooting this summer,” she added.
Ah. So she’d been reading a new script on her lounge chair the past two days.
“Not a movie?”
She slanted him a thin-lipped smile that didn’t warm her eyes. “How the mighty have fallen. The only movies I can expect a part in now are the ones that go straight to DVD. My best chance is getting a spot on this sitcom and working my way up the ladder. That’s why I’m here—to prepare for this audition.”
They continued walking, rounding the curve of rocks into a long, straight stretch of beach. In the distance, a thin trail of smoke oozed out of a chimney from a beach house set a short distance in front of the imposing dunes. A fisherman’s cottage. Nearly there.
He stuffed his hands into his pockets and pictured Savannah, in her award-nominated role as a teenager with terminal cancer, hamming it up in front of a live studio audience. Nup, it didn’t sit right.
Though watching her wrestle with Daisy in the mud had been damn funny.
“You’re moving into comedy?”
“My agent says the show’s rumored to be today’s version of Friends, but with kids.”
“Really?”
“Worked for Jennifer Aniston and Courtney Cox.”
A rough sound of dismissal rumbled out of his throat. “But what about what you’re working on in Auckland? The casino show.”
She paused, sending him another one of those sideways glances. “You’ve watched it?”
A shimmer of hopeful expectation in her tone made him roll his taut shoulders, dig his hands deeper into his pockets. “No. I heard a couple of staff discussing it. I don’t watch much TV… sorry.” About as diplomatic as he could be.
While Savannah’s ego probably didn’t need any more boosting from adoring males, he wasn’t a complete and utter insensitive bastard.
Years ago, Jamie and Erin dragged him to a re-showing of Savannah’s award-nominated film. He’d squirmed during the one hundred and thirty minute feature, his heart working overtime, pounding against a ribcage that felt chiseled from granite. It’d been an uncomfortable experience—partly due to pride in her abilities, partly due to regret at the way things had turned out, and partly out of simple horniness at how damn beautiful she’d looked. For his own sanity, he’d refused to see any of her other movies.
She laughed, but the thin edge of hurt rang through the sound. “I guess formulaic