“I can’t believe this. Are you sure you heard him right?” Rainer is pacing the length of his condo, his hands knotted by his sides.
I tuck my knees up to my chest on the couch. “That’s what he said. Jordan Wilder.”
“Why would they hire Jordan? I thought they wanted an unknown.” Rainer stops and looks at me.
I lift up my shoulders. “I have no idea. You should ask your dad.” I think about Wyatt’s words earlier: “He’s the producer’s son.”
Rainer’s eyes fire up. “You think he knew about this?”
“I mean, he’s the producer, right?” I stick my thumbnail in my mouth and snap off the end. It’s a nervous habit I have. Lillianna keeps yelling at me about it. I tried to explain to her that if August is on a deserted island with some tribe possibly intent on killing her, she’s definitely biting her nails, too, but she didn’t buy it.
“He wouldn’t do that to me. He knows about Jordan.”
“What happened?” I ask.
Rainer is unraveling right before my eyes. He asked me to come over to have dinner, and I was just catching him up on my morning, telling him about Wyatt coming over, when Jordan’s name slipped out.
I’ve never seen Rainer like this. Usually he’s so calm and cool and collected and together. The mere mention of this guy’s name has completely unhinged him.
I know there are those rumors about Jordan and Britney but Rainer told me himself he isn’t even with her anymore. And anyway, Rainer’s not the kind of guy to go into a tailspin about rumors. Unless they’re not just rumors.
He looks at me like he’s forgotten I’m there. “Nothing,” he says. “We used to be on a TV show together. It’s not important.”
“From the way you’re pacing your living room, it seems kind of important.”
“I’d just rather he not bog this movie down with his bullshit, that’s all.”
Rainer’s eyes flash and then fade out, like they’ve blown a fuse, and he flops down onto the couch next to me. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I just really hate the guy.”
He lifts his head up, and he’s wearing a small smile now. I realize, suddenly, that this is the first time I’ve ever seen Rainer angry. It’s a weird realization. Like he’s becoming human or something. Not so perfect. But it’s not off-putting at all—instead, it’s totally attractive. I like that he’s let me into a part of him other people don’t see. That he has his own demons. And apparently, Jordan Wilder is one of them.
“Hey,” I say. I reach for his shoulder and place my hand there. “If this is so important to you, why don’t we do something about it?”
He looks at me. His eyes narrow. “What do you mean?”
I suck in my bottom lip. I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but I think about Rainer telling me yesterday we were in this together. Sitting on that couch, I think, I know, I’d already do anything for him.
“I’ll flub my read with him,” I say.
Rainer opens his mouth to say something and then closes it again. He looks at me, and a beat passes between us so long I think I might scream. But then he shakes his head, his mouth pulling into a smile. “I can’t ask you to do that,” he says.
“You’re not asking.”
He makes a noise somewhere between a laugh and an exhale. “But you’re not going to,” he says. “I can’t let you. Not with how you feel about your current relationship with Wyatt.”
I think about our talk this morning. Rainer puts a hand on my shoulder and glides it down my arm. I’m sure he can feel the goose bumps that prick up where his fingers trail. We’ve touched so much on set but so little, I realize, off. I’ve been anticipating August and Noah’s kiss since we got here—I know it’s coming. I guess at least they’ll get there, even if we never do. “I’ll just have to trust that Jordan’s general assholery will speak for itself.”
“Okay.” I nod. Then, to change the subject: “Hey, I think my friends might come to visit next weekend.”
“Jake and Cassandra?” Rainer eyes me, and I feel something rise in my chest. I don’t even remember talking about them a lot. “That’s great.”
“Will you be here?” I pick at the edge of a pillow.
“Yes,” Rainer says. His voice is soft. “And I’d love to meet them.”
I look up at him. He’s smiling. “I didn’t ask,” I say.
He cocks his head to the side. “But you want to.”
I’m annoyed at myself. At how I can feel my blood heating up in my veins. “They’re great,” I say, because I don’t know what else to say. “Cassandra and I have been friends forever, and Jake…”
Rainer picks up on the pause. “You haven’t really clarified that one. Is he an ex?”
“No,” I say hastily. “It’s just strange being away from them. They’ve known everything about me up until now.”
“It’s hard,” he says. “It’s not easy to maintain relationships in this world.”
“Yeah. And Cassandra is just—she saw those stupid tabloid shots.” I already told Rainer about Wyatt’s confrontation, but before I could gauge his reaction I brought up Jordan’s name. I now really want to know: How does he feel about those pictures? About the world thinking we might really be together?
Rainer laughs. “All press is good press, right?”
“Isn’t it ‘not all press is good press’?”
He shrugs. “I forget. Was she upset or something?”
I glance downward. I can feel my cheeks flush. “She thought I didn’t tell her everything.”
I look up and see Rainer’s eyes fixed on me. His smile has slackened a little, and he seems intent. “Did you?”
“You know those pictures were taken out of context,” I say. “I mean, Wyatt totally overreacted. You were just being nice about the sweatshirt, and that hand-holding was…”
He unhooks his hand from the back of the couch and places it over mine, where it’s resting in my lap. “I like you,” he says.
I look at his hand and then up at him. All the hairs on my body feel like they stand up at once. When the words come out, they feel small, like those firecrackers that barely spark before they die. “What do you mean?”
“You’re sweet,” he says, “and smart. And talented. I like your spunk and how unassuming you are. I like how new this is to you. You’re so real.”
There is a calmness to his tone, a candid softness, that makes me think he is letting me down easy. That he picked up on this stupid, totally inappropriate crush I have on him and is trying to move past it. To imply without calling me out that we should just be friends. Wyatt was right. Everyone but me knows that us getting together is a bad idea.
“Thank you,” I say, because I have no idea what to say.
He laughs a little. “You’re welcome, I guess.”
He takes his hand away. Instantly, I’m sorry he did it. “Let’s stay in,” he says. “I think I have some sushi in my fridge. You hungry?”
I nod. “Starving.” My voice sounds hoarse, and my mouth feels dry. But my stomach is rumbling at the thought of food. I try to push my embarrassment down low, shake it off. I’m an actress, after all.
Rainer goes to the kitchen, busying himself with containers. I swivel on the couch to look at him. “I don’t suppose you have some pizza back there, too?” I ask.
Rainer laughs. “I have to be in a bathing suit tomorrow.” He’s in front of the counter now, and he lifts up his navy T-shirt to reveal his perfect abs. He pats his stomach twice, like he’s showing me his beer gut, except there’s nothing there but muscle. I blink and look away.
“It’s a challenge, being you,” I say, trying to make my voice light, playful.
He smiles. “At least I have you.”
I cross my legs under me on the couch and sink lower. My head hurts from thinking. Rainer. Jake. This thing with Jordan. But I’m still worried about tomorrow. Wyatt’s visit looms in my mind like a smoke cloud—I have to get better. I must.
Rainer comes back with a bunch of rolls and edamame and some green, slimy noodles he informs me is seaweed salad. Gross. Thankfully, there is one greasy thing.
“Hey,” I say, popping an egg roll into my mouth. “Do you think we could run some lines?”
“Now?”
I keep chewing. “Yeah.”
He shrugs. “Sure, if you want to. You’re not tired?”
“I am,” I say. “But Wyatt—”
Rainer lifts a tuna roll with some chopsticks. “What did I say about letting him get to you, PG? You can’t do it.”
“I know,” I say. “But I think he might be right. Something isn’t clicking on set for me. And I don’t know what it is.”
Rainer shakes his head, still chewing. “You gotta cut yourself some slack,” he says, swallowing. “This is your first movie. It’s a lot to take in.”
He stands up and goes over to the windows. He stops, opening the curtains all the way. I’ve been on the lanai only in the morning, never at night. It’s dark out now. I missed the sunset tonight, and they’re brilliant here. A million shades of pink and red and orange lighting up the sky. Way brighter than the sunrise. Like the sky has gained texture and depth since the morning. All the colors are more powerful at night.
“There. Better.” He settles onto the couch next to me again, picking up his chopsticks. “So what do you want to go over?”
“Anything? Everything.”
Rainer sets his sushi down. “You know what your problem is?”
“Split ends?”
He shakes his head. “You don’t believe you can do it.”
I fall silent for a minute.
“You’re waiting for Wyatt to give you some magical pat on the head, but that’s not going to happen unless you start thinking you can do it.”
“So basically you’re admitting I’m terrible,” I say.
He rolls his eyes. “More like impossible. Listen, I think you’re great. I think you’re doing an incredible job. But I want you to enjoy this.” He looks at me a moment too long. I can feel my heart in my throat. “I want you to be happy here.”
We eat dinner and run lines. Rainer says his between bites of sashimi and smiles at me, reassuringly, when I fire back.
“See?” he says when we finish a scene. “No problem.”
I want to tell him that there is a problem. A big one, actually. That I’m still terrified of letting everyone down.
The stakes are so high. Wyatt told me. Every tabloid and Locked fan site tells me. Rainer doesn’t seem to notice. The way he approaches this movie, approaches Noah, is like it’s a second skin. Like he’s done this a million times before. And I guess, really, he has.
We run lines—over and over. Until two in the morning, until nearly the time I have to get myself to Lillianna, to begin becoming August.
Rainer walks me to his door and we’re both bleary-eyed and half asleep. And then he does something he hasn’t before. He pulls me toward him and hugs me. Not a quick hug, but a deep one, the kind that makes me loop my arms around his neck and roll up onto my toes. I breathe him in—warm and sweet and spicy. I bury my face in his shoulder. I feel his arms tighten around me. Then, just when I think he might never, he releases me, and I stumble into the morning and toward my condo door.