We shrugged and said, “Boys,” though it annoyed us both.
I text her right before takeoff.
Me: I have news
Em: You changed your mind and aren’t going to move THOUSANDS of miles away from me?
Me: Um. No. That’s still happening. I thought you were okay with it? :(
Em: Of course I’m not ok with you leaving Cali! I’m going to miss the shit out of you! What is this news of which you speak?
Me: We ran into Graham
Em: Get OUT. MILLIONS of people in nyc… and you run into the hunky, mysterious costar with whom you shared a steamy hotel room moment?
Me: You’re reading those trashy romance novels again, aren’t you
Em: I dunno what you’re talking about
Me: ANYWAY. So graham has a daughter.
Em: WHAT?!?!?!?
Me: And also, we’re sort of seeing each other now.
Em: WHAT?!?!?!?
Me: Gotta go. Getting the evil eye from flight attendant. Meet me at home at like 3.
Em: I’m just… WHAT?!?!?!?
***
Two minutes after we land and right after I power it up, my cell is ringing. I’m surprised to see Dan’s name in the display, but he did warn me he’d have School Pride promos set up and we’d discuss them when I returned from my “little college tour.” I didn’t know he meant we’d talk about them the very minute I got back. My energetic agent is probably on high alert, though I suppose he doesn’t really have any other setting.
“Hi, Dan.”
“Emma, glad you’re back. I have a tentative schedule of interviews, appearances, etcetera for you—Ellen, by the way—woot!—we can go over that in a moment, though, because first I really have to ask—are you absolutely certain about this whole college slash career-killing slash no-more-movies decision? Because I’m getting tons of calls about parts you’d be perfect for—”
“No, Dan. I’m sure.”
“Now hear me out just a moment—the call that came in this morning was actually an action flick and you’d need some personal training to get all badass of course, but hey if Linda Hamilton can do it for The Terminator sequel—oh, I guess that’s before your time, though—” he chuckles and I take that opportunity to try to stop him again.
“Dan, seriously, I’m sure that I’m not interested. But thank you. Really.”
He sighs in his long-suffering agent manner. “You’re killing me, Emma. Killing. Me.”
This is not an appropriate time to laugh. Not even if I can picture the exact sad-puppy expression on Dan’s face, which is made funnier by the fact that he’s known in industry circles for being more of a piranha and less of a Bassett hound. “I’m sorry, Dan.”
Dad, removing our luggage from the overhead bins, smiles and shakes his head. He knows Dan as well as I do.
“Yadda yadda,” Dan says, which is Dan-speak for you are saying words I don’t like.
The first interview is in a couple of days, and Graham was right—it’s just Reid and me. This doesn’t really bother me until Dan says, “You probably know there’s still widespread speculation about the nature of the relationship between you and Reid Alexander—”
“But we don’t really have any re—”
“Now, don’t feel as though you have to share anything with me—”
“Dan. There’s nothing to share. We’re barely speaking. I mean, I don’t even know if we are speaking…”
Dad mouths What? and I shrug one shoulder and roll my eyes as we stand in the clogged aisle with our carry-on luggage in hand.
“Let’s just keep that to ourselves, shall we? Here’s the deal. The studio wants you two to make nice. You can tell interviewers that there’s nothing going on between you, or leave it open by saying no comment, but you should look as though something could be going on. It’ll be good publicity for the film release if people already love you as a couple.”
My mouth hangs slightly ajar and I snap it closed as Dad gives me an arch look. I’m acutely aware of the people crammed into the aisle in front of and behind me, waiting to deplane, so I keep my voice low. “Are you—are you saying we should pretend to be together?” I ask, teeth clenched. Oh, hell no. That is not going to work.
“Of course not! Just don’t pretend not to be together.”
“That’s no different from pretending we are. Dan, we aren’t—”
“What I mean to say is, just don’t make that an obvious thing.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, eyes closed. This is a nightmare. “As in, the studio wants us to pretend we’re together.”
“Well, okay, if you need to put it that way.” At my silence, he adds, “Just give enough of the illusion of the possibility that you could be in love or involved in some delicious little clandestine liaison.” It’s easy to visualize Dan leaning back in his huge leather chair behind his massive desk (which I’ve always suspected had been carved from illegally-obtained rainforest lumber). Headset in place, his elbows resting on the arms of the chair with fingers steepled, he’s swiveled to face the giant plate-glass window overlooking LA. Too many times, I’ve been on the opposite side of his desk, listening in on these short conversations with other actors. “Oh and BT-dubs, they just let me know that there’s a photo shoot for People in a week and a half. Whole cast. So clear time for that.”