and accepted the kiss Lauren placed on her forehead. She sat on her bed and watched Lauren roll her suitcase out of the bedroom. Tears pooled in her eyes. She thought she heard sniffling from down the hall. Her heart clenched. Yet she had no idea how to stop any of it.
* * *
“Picture’s up. Roll camera. Roll sound. And…action.”
Lauren took her cue and slowly raised her gaze to the actor playing the prosecutor. “That’s exactly why I’m here.”
“Now we’re getting somewhere. You’re here to make sure that Victor goes to jail.”
“Yes.” She glared at the defendant, lacing her gaze with menace as she trembled. She blinked back tears, keeping them at bay momentarily, then losing the battle. This was their ninth take and Lauren’s close-up shot. That meant she had to bring it.
“And you want him to go to jail because he killed your child,” the prosecutor boomed.
“Yes,” she said, eyes still trained on Victor. She blinked out of it and looked to the prosecutor. “No. I mean no.”
“But you said yes. Is it true that you hate Victor for getting away with killing your child, and you’ve now framed him for the murder of Amy Trinidad, his own wife.”
She opened her mouth and closed it again, looking around the courtroom in emotional unravel. “Killed my child,” she mumbled.
“What did you say?”
“Victor killed my child and he’s not getting away with it.” Lauren let the angry tears fall.
“And…cut.” Rick moved toward her and leaned over the witness stand. “I think that one was it. Let me check the picture and we’ll see if we’ve got it.”
“Sounds great,” Lauren said, accepting a tissue from a production assistant and hoping her makeup wasn’t a screaming mess, which, of course, production might have preferred. “Thank you.” She dabbed her eyes and stood, waiting on word.
“And we’re good,” Rick said. “That was our martini shot. Thanks, everyone. That’s a wrap for Lauren Prescott.” The cast and crew on set immediately broke into applause for the work she’d done.
She high-fived Ben, the sound guy she’d nicknamed Benjamin Button because he was forty-four but looked thirty. Once she was clear of the set, she located her phone and anxiously checked her messages, looking for one name in particular. She’d texted Carly the night before to see how she was doing. It had taken everything in her not to text earlier, but she wanted the ball to be in Carly’s court. Unfortunately, the ball remained there, as she’d heard nothing from her in the three days since she’d checked into the hotel, which left her surprised and hurt. Lauren wasn’t sleeping or eating very much, and the film shoot had been a lot of tedious waiting around, which was hard on someone who thrived on action.
“You okay?” Cal Parks, who played the prosecutor, asked as he passed. “You look like someone just stole your puppy.”
She forced herself to brighten. “Nothing that awful. Just hanging on to my character a bit too tightly.” He laughed and headed out. Alone, her spirits plummeted. She missed her dog. She missed Trip. Above all, she missed Carly more than words could ever do justice. None of this Hollywood stuff mattered under the personal circumstances of her life. How dissatisfying it was to be given so much, only to realize that the one thing you wanted was the one thing you couldn’t have. Life didn’t mess around in its masterful delivery of mixed messages, elevating her professional life while trashing her personal one.
Her time on the film had originally been scheduled for five days, which had turned into seven, scattered over a two-week period due to the schedules of other actors. When the job ended, she’d planned to stick around, pick up Rocky IV, and see where the Los Angeles journey took her. The events of the last week weighed heavy on her plans.
She fired off another text to Carly. Hey, you. If you’re dodging my messages, just say so. I’m a big girl, Carly. Just talk to me one way or another.
That night as she sat cross-legged in her hotel room watching The Subdivision for a bit of research on the part she’d committed to, she kept one eye on her phone. She knew Carly was in a rough spot, so she cut her a certain amount of slack. It had been too long, though. Deciding to be the bigger person, she placed a call, waiting patiently as it rang and rang. When Carly’s recorded voice came on the line,