“Me too, and from what I’ve seen so far, they seem determined to remain as authentic as possible. I’m hella excited to play this part.”
“Cam is such an asshole in Cruel Intentions,” I say, cutting my steak into bite-sized pieces, “and he is so different from you. It will definitely stretch you out of your comfort zone.”
“That’s one of the reasons I wanted the part so bad.”
“Is the contract for one movie only or with an option for more?” Mom asks.
“One with the option of another two,” Reeve confirms. “And the author has written more books about other couples, so if it proves popular, it could turn into a franchise and keep going for years.”
“Be careful you don’t get pigeonholed,” Dad warns. “Look at how much Robert Pattinson struggled after the Twilight franchise.”
“Jon.” Mom drills a look at Dad. “Don’t rain on Reeve’s parade.” She smiles across the table at my boyfriend. “That would be a great problem to have, and you are young enough and talented enough to break out of any mold.”
“If it comes down to it, I would value your advice.” Reeve places his silverware down on his empty plate.
“We are always here for you,” Mom says. “And my offer to talk to Margaret still stands.” Margaret Andre is Mom’s long-term agent, and she is well-respected and well-known in the industry. She comes from a long line of Andres who worked in the industry, and she only takes on a select number of clients. Mom had offered to speak to her on Reeve’s behalf last year when he ditched his old agent, but he wanted to find new representation himself. While I don’t like Bianca Remington—Reeve’s new agent—I can’t deny she has pulled out all the stops for him. As long as she has his best interests at heart, I can tolerate her surgically enhanced resting bitchface.
“Thanks, Lauren, but I’m happy with Bianca right now. You should have seen her in the negotiations this morning. I can see how she has earned her rottweiler reputation.”
“Have they cast your leading lady yet?” Dad asks.
Reeve shakes his head. “They are having trouble casting Abby. They have rejected all the girls I tested with. However, there is someone they are talking to currently who they are very interested in. I’ll be filming a few scenes with her next week to see if we have chemistry.”
He mentioned he had to shoot some additional scenes next week, but he never mentioned it was only with one actress. “Who is she?”
“They haven’t said. It’s all hush-hush for now.”
“It must be someone with star power,” Mom says. “Someone the studio is desperate to sign.”
Reeve shrugs. “I don’t care as long as it’s someone I can work with, someone who will add value to the production and challenge me to deliver the best performance I can.” He turns to face me. “I was hoping you could run lines with me this weekend.”
“Of course. You know I’m always happy to run lines with you.”
He pecks my lips. “Thanks, babe. You’re the best.”
3
“Is she hot?” Nate inquires, waggling his brows. “And how many sex scenes do you have with her?”
Music shakes the windows, filtering out of the open door as the DJ Reeve hired for the party spins tunes in the ballroom where most of our classmates are currently drunk off their asses, or high as kites, or a mix of both.
I roll my eyes as I take a swig of my vodka cranberry. What is it with guys and sex on the brain? Though I really shouldn’t be criticizing considering the marathon sex session Reeve and I engaged in last night after we left my parents’ house.
“He doesn’t know who she is,” Audrey replies, swatting the back of Nate’s head. “Don’t you ever listen?”
A loud splash is followed by giggles and screaming as someone jumps in the pool. Inside Reeve’s house, the party is in full swing, but we’ve retreated to the covered patio to talk without shouting for a while.
“For fuck’s sake.” Reeve shakes his head, glaring at the two guys and three girls cavorting in their underwear in the swimming pool.
“I’ll handle it,” Alex says, standing.
Reeve made it clear there was no going in the pool tonight. It’s not like it’s the height of summer, even if we did get to spend a large portion of our day on Santa Monica Beach.
“So, who is she?” Nate asks again, leaning forward on his elbows.