Rising Star Read online

  Bex and Tina shared an agent and were always touching up each other’s makeup and hair between takes. Joy and Katie were Soul Cycle buddies. Mark and Pete went on ski trips together and talked incessantly about the powder in Big Bear. Some of the other guys played in a weekend basketball league and passed their lunch breaks shooting hoops behind the soundstage. Middle-aged empty-nester Diane spent her downtime knitting scarves she handed out as gifts to the other extras and crew—who wore them with pride whenever the weather turned cold—but Alice hadn’t been there long enough to rate one yet.

  Rachel was the next newest, having only worked on the show for half a season longer than Alice, and the two of them had naturally migrated to one another during the long days on set. There’d been talk occasionally of catching a movie or hitting a sale on the weekend, but concrete plans never seemed to materialize. Which was Alice’s fault, maybe, for not following through or giving off the right signals. In truth, she’d been operating in a bit of a haze this last year, so busy hiding from her former life that she hadn’t bothered to invest much in her current one.

  Two cups of punch into the pre-party at Diane’s Silver Lake house, Alice realized she’d done herself a disservice. Unconstrained by set protocol, facing the imminent end of their working relationship and loosened up by alcohol, everyone had become considerably more fun than Alice was used to. The realization struck her belatedly that she actually liked these people she’d been working with for the last nine months—and surprisingly, they actually seemed to like her back.

  “Your hair looks so pretty!” Bex slurred affectionately as she patted Alice’s hard-fought waves, which had cost thirty minutes of effort and two curling iron burns to achieve. Bex turned to Tina, sloshing punch out of her red Solo cup onto Diane’s terra-cotta tile floor. “Doesn’t her hair look amazing?”

  Tina nodded as gravely as if they were discussing relations with North Korea. “Amazing,” she echoed a little too loudly as she reached up to test the springiness of Alice’s curls. “Is that Dry Bar?”

  “I did it myself,” Alice said, trying not to feel weird about having two different people’s hands in her hair.

  “Fantastic!” Bex saluted her with her cup, spilling more punch onto the floor and narrowly missing her own shoes. “And your lipstick! It’s perfect with that dress.”

  “Thank you,” Alice replied as she eased out of the splash zone.

  “We should all go to Sephora,” Tina declared.

  “Yes! We’ll do a makeover day. I want to see what Alice would look like in a plum lip stain.” Bex turned to Tina. “Don’t you think she’d look great in plum?”

  Tina squinted at Alice’s lips with another grave nod. “Definitely.”

  “A regular happy hour!” Mark announced, appearing beside Bex with Pete in tow. “What do you say? I’m thinking Saturdays.”

  Tina turned her squint on him. “What?”

  “We’ve decided we should plan a regular get-together so we don’t lose touch,” Pete explained. “Saturday afternoon drinks work for everyone?”

  Bex nodded with enthusiasm. “Oh, I like that!”

  Mark jerked his head toward the kitchen, where there was a large group huddled around the punch bowl. “Joy and Katie have already agreed to switch to the early Saturday Soul Cycle class so they can make it.”

  “Well, then we have to do it,” Tina said.

  Pete turned to Alice, lifting his eyebrows expectantly. “What about you? Are you in?”

  “Absolutely.” Alice hadn’t felt “in” anything in ages, and it felt good to say yes. She just wished they’d all gotten together like this months ago, before they were about to go their separate ways.

  After giving Mark her number so he could set up a group text to coordinate the details, Alice spied Rachel beckoning to her from the kitchen and excused herself.

  “Did you say yes?” Rachel asked, topping off Alice’s cup with more punch. “To the happy hour?”

  “I did.”

  “Oh, good!” She clinked her plastic cup against Alice’s. “It’ll be nice to keep in touch.”

  “It will,” Alice agreed, feeling lighter than she had in months. For once, the stars seemed to be aligned in her favor. She had a sweet place to live, a game plan for finishing her dissertation and graduating, and a whole new group of friends, apparently. Life was pretty good.

  Rachel leaned in close and lowered her voice. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “What do you think of Pete?”

  Alice glanced back toward the living room, where Pete was talking up the happy hour to the basketball contingent. “I don’t know him very well…” She didn’t know any of them very well, but she didn’t know anything against him either. “But he seems nice?”

  “Do you think he’s interested in me?” Rachel asked, lowering her voice even more.

  “I have no idea,” Alice answered honestly. “But I don’t know why he shouldn’t be. You’re hot and awesome.”

  Rachel beamed. “I am hot and awesome, aren’t I?”

  “Is he single?” Alice couldn’t recall him ever mentioning a wife or girlfriend, but then she hadn’t been paying all that much attention to him. “And straight?”

  “Yes,” Rachel answered definitively. “And god I hope so.” She bit her lip. “Do you think I should ask him out?”

  “Absolutely.” Alice nodded vigorously. “You should definitely do that.”

  “Maybe I will…sometime when we’re all not so drunk.”

  “Good plan.” They clinked cups again, dissolving into alcohol-fueled giggles.

  “Oh, Alice! There you are!” Diane elbowed her way through the kitchen to reach them. “I’ve got something for you,” she said, thrusting a brown paper gift bag at her.

  Alice passed her cup to Rachel so she could peek into the bag. When she saw what was inside, her eyes started to water. “You knit me a scarf?”

  “I was afraid I wasn’t going to finish in time, but I stayed up late last night to bind off and put the tassels on.”

  Alice looped it around her neck proudly. “I love it! Thank you so much!”

  “There,” Rachel said. “You’ve been anointed by Diane. You’re officially part of the family now.”

  Alice threw her arms around Diane. “Thank you for the scarf, and thank you for having us all at your house tonight!”

  “It’s my pleasure,” Diane replied, hugging her back with affection.

  “Diane, what is in this punch?” Rachel asked. “It’s turning us all into blubbering idiots.”

  “Everclear,” Diane said with a wink. “Guaranteed to knock you on your ass.”

  Rachel’s mouth fell open. “Holy shit, Diane! That’s like a hundred and fifty proof!”

  The older woman simply smiled as she moved off to refill the chip and dip platter.

  “Did you drive?” Rachel asked Alice as she handed her cup back to her.

  Alice shook her head. “Ubered.”

  “Me too, thank god. Want to share a car to the wrap party?”

  Alice helped herself to more of the Everclear punch. “Definitely.”

  Griffin glanced toward the door for what must have been the hundredth time in the last half hour.

  “Expecting someone?” Alexandra asked, lifting a speculative eyebrow.

  “Nope,” he replied and turned his attention back to her, attempting to feign polite interest in whatever she’d been talking about.

  The wrap party was in full swing around him as he nursed his club soda and lime, regrettably sober. He and Alice had come separately—she’d met up with some of the extras beforehand for a pre-party, while Griffin had attended another pre-party for the principal cast at Alexandra’s house. The catered dinner and cocktails—none of which Griffin could consume—had been an odd mix of celebratory and mournful, and the feeling had followed him to the wrap party.

  No one seemed able to decide whether they were more relieved to be free of the grind or sad that i
t was all coming to an end. It reminded Griffin of his high school graduation, except if high school had lasted seven years and consisted of fourteen-hour class days. Some people would undoubtedly be moving on to bigger and better things, but others might not see another job this steady for the duration of their careers. Hollywood was a brutal business that way—you never knew when your ticket was up.

  Griffin felt a bit guilty being the one with the most obviously burgeoning career. While everyone else was scrambling to line up auditions for pilot season, he already had two starring roles in major studio films on his docket, and another in the works. He’d successfully climbed out of the television dungeon and broken through into the big leagues.

  Assuming his first big-budget starring vehicle didn’t flop, of course. One failure was all it took if it was the wrong failure. He wasn’t yet successful enough—or confident enough—to believe it couldn’t all slip through his fingers at any moment. He’d seen it happen too many times before, and could list two dozen actors who’d grasped the ring of stardom only to disappear into obscurity after a couple unremarkable films. Their names haunted him every night as he tried to sleep, like his own personal cadre of Marley’s ghosts.

  The more the cocktails flowed and the night wore on, the more people gave up trying to talk over the thumping music in favor of shaking their stuff on the impromptu dance floor that had formed in front of the stage. Fortunately, Griffin was too sober to be tempted into showing off his questionable dance moves this year. He was still trying to live down the vids of his drunken, sweaty rendition of “Single Ladies” that had hit social media after last year’s wrap party. There was something good to be said for involuntary sobriety.

  A whoop sounded from the door as a group of newcomers joined the party. The extras had started trickling in, and from the sound of it they were well lubricated from their pre-party. Griffin craned his neck for a glimpse of Alice in the crowd. When he finally spotted her, his jaw dropped.

  She’d still been getting ready when he’d called out his goodbye on the way out the door earlier that evening, so he hadn’t seen what she was wearing tonight. In a dramatic departure from the sweatshirts and T-shirts she usually favored around the house, she wore a red strapless dress that hugged her hips. Her fine blonde hair had been transformed into silky, springy waves, her wide blue eyes dramatically lined, and her lips painted a bright crimson.

  She was stunning.

  Reluctantly, he forced himself to look away. No matter how attracted he was to Alice, she was his employee, and she’d dealt with more than enough of that kind of shit already. It felt like she was finally starting to trust him—to like him even—and he wasn’t going to do anything to mess that up.

  Alice was off-limits. Which was all kinds of too bad, because she was the first woman he’d actually liked in—fuck, he couldn’t even remember how long it’d been since he’d actually been interested in a woman for more than just a one-night stand.

  How pathetic was that? Maybe Boone was right. Maybe he had closed himself off.

  Unfortunately for Griffin, his old strategy of drinking away his feelings was currently off the table, so there he stood, stone-cold sober, trying not to pay too much attention to Alice.

  “Sulking?” Alfie asked, squeezing Griffin’s shoulder as he sidled up beside him.

  Griffin pasted on a smile and attempted to drag himself out of his funk. “About what?”

  “You’re thinking about how much you’re going to miss all this.”

  “Yeah, I guess I am.”

  “That’s okay.” Alfie’s eyes sparkled as they surveyed the room. “That means it was a good job. I’ve had way too many I couldn’t wait to get away from. Count yourself lucky.”

  Griffin nodded as he sipped his club soda. Alfie was right. He was lucky. Everything was going his way. He should probably stop moping in the corner and try to enjoy the party.

  “It’s not like you’ll never see any of them again.” Alfie gave him a hearty slap on the back. “Hollywood’s not that big a town. You’ll find a way to keep the ones that are important in your life.”

  “Sure.” Griffin’s gaze traveled across the room to where Alice was talking with some of the crew.

  “Why don’t you go over there and ask her to dance?”

  Griffin snapped his attention back to Alfie. “Who?”

  “That extra.” He waved vaguely in Alice’s direction. Alfie could never remember anyone’s names. “The one you’ve been staring at for weeks.”

  “I haven’t been staring at her.” Not for weeks, anyway. Had he? Shit. If Alfie had noticed, others probably had too.

  “Job’s over, so if that’s what’s been holding you back—”

  “It’s not.” Alice’s other job was the problem. The one working for Griffin, which had barely even started. If it wasn’t for that…maybe.

  Except if it wasn’t for that, she’d still be giving him the cold shoulder, probably.

  “Oh, go on.” Alfie gave him an ineffectual shove. “Gather ye rosebuds, my boy.”

  Alice’s first—and likely only—wrap party was more than living up to her expectations.

  The venue that had been rented out for the occasion was draped in fairy lights and dramatic swags of jewel-toned crepe, softening the dark, industrial space and giving it a gothic feel. A smattering of high-top tables dotted the floor by the bar at one end of the room, while a DJ spun records from a stage at the other. In between, throngs of cast and crew crowded the space in varying states of intoxication. There was quite a lot of hugging, some dancing closer to the DJ, and an occasional shriek of laughter loud enough to pierce the thrum of music.

  Alice gave herself a moment to soak it all in. For the first time since moving to Los Angeles five years ago, she was at a real Hollywood party with celebrities on the guest list. Granted, they were celebrities she’d worked with for the better part of a year—and in one particular case was currently sharing a house with—but still. The boisterous, noisy vibe of the evening made a striking contrast to the on-set atmosphere. Of course, even in the midst of a party, social hierarchies persisted. She didn’t observe a whole lot of intermixing between the underlings and their betters. The bigwigs seemed to be sticking mainly with their own kind, and the crew were largely divided by department. So basically it was your typical office party.

  “Come on,” Rachel shouted, grabbing Alice by the hand and dragging her toward the bar. “Let’s refuel.”

  Alice felt like they’d already had plenty of fuel, courtesy of Diane’s killer punch, but didn’t argue. Once they were armed with cold bottles of beer, Rachel scanned the crowd—presumably for Pete, who’d caught a ride in another car. Alice peered to their right and spotted Griffin. He’d been talking to Alfie a minute ago, but now he was standing by himself clutching a club soda. Poor guy. He was probably one of the few sober people here.

  He lifted his chin in greeting when he caught her eye, and she offered a sympathetic smile in return. Just as Alice was on the verge of heading over to talk to him, he was joined by a posse of women from the makeup department. His face relaxed into a smile as they grouped around him, looking every bit as glamorous and beautiful as the actresses in attendance. Maybe he wasn’t having such a terrible time after all. As she watched them flirt with him, Alice was reminded of all the famous actors who’d fallen in love with makeup artists—possibly because they spent so much time staring into one another’s eyes at work.

  Well, good for him. Alice wished them all luck tonight.

  Frankly, she was surprised Griffin hadn’t brought any women home since she’d moved in. Maybe he was self-conscious about bringing them to the house with her living there. For all she knew, he’d been hooking up elsewhere before coming home every night. Well, maybe not every night, but some nights possibly. It was another thing she felt guilty about. She didn’t like the idea that she was crimping his love life.

  Rachel’s hand closed on her arm, tugging her over to a group of PAs, who greeted th
em with enthusiastic hugs and girlish shrieks. Most of the PAs were younger than Alice, but one day some of them would likely be successful directors and producers and writers. At the moment, however, they were all scrambling to find new jobs, just like everyone else in the cast and crew.

  It was a frequent topic of conversation throughout the night. There was as much networking happening as drinking, with people sharing leads and inside tips on productions that were about to start hiring and positions that might be opening up.

  Alice found herself a bit on the outside again in the midst of these conversations. She wasn’t in desperate need of a job thanks to her arrangement with Griffin—which she was too self-conscious to mention to anyone—and she wasn’t going to work in the entertainment industry again, assuming things went as planned with her degree and post-graduation career path. This genuinely was the last time she’d ever see most of these people, she realized with a pang.

  She wasn’t the only one feeling emotional. The hugs flowed as freely as the booze as the night wore on. People Alice had barely interacted with all season kept coming up to offer overly earnest good wishes and sweaty, affectionate hugs. Eventually the social barriers broke down enough that the cast and higher-ups in the production began doing some mingling with the lowlier members of the crew. The paradigm shift was instigated by Alfie, who might not have many fucks left to give about his acting career, but still took his role as number one on the call sheet and self-appointed friend of the everyman surprisingly seriously. Once he started making the rounds on a mission to shake hands with everyone there—whether he remembered their names or not—Griffin quickly followed suit. Never having been one to hold himself apart from the crew, he abandoned his club soda in favor of circulating with his phone in hand, requesting selfies with everyone to remember them by.