We have a moment of communal silence and I almost forget she’s a famous movie star. She feels comfortable, like we might have been friends in much different circumstances. It must be that vaunted Fangli charm. Then she says, “Sam doesn’t agree with what I’m doing, but he’ll be fine.”
I shrug. Now that the decision has been made I’m better, more controlled. “I can’t imagine seeing him much.”
Fangli widens her brown eyes. “Didn’t I cover that?”
My heart sinks. “Don’t tell me.”
“Oh.” She’s silent and I realize she took me literally.
“Sorry. Tell me. Sam’s part of this?”
“He’s my usual escort. He’ll be yours.” She waves her hands. “No touching. No hugging, kissing, or holding hands. He was very firm on that.”
“He was, was he?” Although I should be pleased about the clear boundaries, I’m a little unsettled they had this talk in advance. Did they work through scenarios such as what if the body double is so uncontrollably attracted to me she tries to jump me? Does he have a script? Do I need to sign another contract?
Sam comes back in the room and I stand, not wanting to give him the advantage of height. He’s still about six inches taller than I am, but that’s better than looming over me by an extra two feet when I’m seated. He looks at the two of us. “We’re doing this?”
“Gracie has agreed.”
Sam’s lips thin. “Did she?” He doesn’t look at me.
“I did.” I give him a big fake smile, not wanting him to know how bothered I am by his attitude. “We’re a team now.”
“We’re not a team.”
I keep the smile. “We sure are. Remember, you came to me.”
He stares me down. “Fangli did.”
My courage ebbs. “If this is going to work, don’t you need to pretend to enjoy my company, at least?”
Sam gives me a flat look before he reaches down and runs his hand over his shirt, tugging the material enough to outline his chest for a brief and wondrous moment. He lowers his head and seeks my eyes with his. His lips part as if he’s seen me for the first time and likes what he sees. I’m mesmerized as he walks over because under his gaze, I’m the only woman in the world. His eyes turn from my eyes to my mouth, and he bites his inner lower lip before looking into my eyes again.
I stop breathing.
Sam stands close enough to lean down and whisper in my ear. “I’m a very good actor.”
Then he straightens and I see the cold Sam I’m already used to.
“Sam,” says Fangli sharply. “What are you doing?”
I’m too shook to even be embarrassed by my reaction. He’s a master. “Wow,” I finally say. “That was serious Academy Award material.”
He doesn’t smile. “I already have an Oscar, thanks.”
This time, Fangli stands up and physically moves between us.
But that walk over to me is a gauntlet he’s thrown and I consider the challenge. I’m about to pretend to be Wei Fangli, and if there’s a better chance to make some changes in my life, I don’t know when it will be. I can remain the go-along-to-get-along Gracie, or I can be the strong Gracie I always wished I was, the Gracie who speaks her mind instead of swallowing her words. An oversize mirror leans against the far wall and I catch sight of the woman reflected there, slumped over and dressed in gray with her arms crossed so tightly across her chest that her shirt wrinkles. I drop my arms to my sides, raise my head, and turn to smile at Sam over Fangli’s shoulder. It’s a victory when he looks away first.
Six
Fangli’s assistant, Mei, takes me aside, and by four in the afternoon, I’m exhausted, my hand cramped from writing notes on little Xanadu notepads with black Xanadu pens. Mei is an unsmiling, infinite encyclopedia of all things Fangli. I have notes on what the actor refuses to eat, what designers she wears, her favorite words and phrases. Even more mind-blowing is the knowledge that all this is necessary because there are enough people in the world who know Wei Fangli would never, ever touch an orange vegetable that to eat a carrot would make the news. I’m filled with shock at how little of Fangli’s life is private and awe that I think I can pull this off.
Eventually Mei excuses herself to take care of some business so I’m alone as I shake out my hand and watch another plane lift off from the island airport. My exhilaration of earlier has bottomed out to stunned disbelief over what I’ve gotten myself into. I look at the positives: I’m making money and it’s frankly far more interesting than lying in bed surfing job boards. If life hands you lemons and all that.