Page 24 of The Summer Show

“Are you going to do it?”

I knew what he meant. Was I going to do the show, that’s what he wanted to know.

He was staring at me. Hyper focused. Ignoring Ana and Thanos completely. We could have been alone in the world. That’s how hard he was drilling into me with his eyes. And honestly, I was intimidated. Self conscious. Was there meatball stuck in my teeth?

A defense mechanism designed to shove me out of his spotlight activated. “No.”

Nick hit Play, returned the remote to the table.

Stewing over his question, I tossed another meatball into my mouth.

Why did he care if I did the show or not?

Was I overreacting, seeing harm where there was none?

Was he simply making conversation?

Nick Merrick didn’t strike me as a guy who made conversation, especially not small talk. I’d spent hours on a plane with him and there was nothing small about about any of his words. When he spoke it was with purpose. Each word was placed in the conversation, precisely where he meant for it to go. There was nothing extraneous about him. His body moved through the world with that same calm, intentional purpose.

But smalltalk or not, his question had burrowed under my skin, spiraling deeper. When it touched bone, I couldn’t help myself. I stood. Grabbed the remote. Paused.

“Why?”

A ditch appeared between his brows. “Why?”

“I can’t tell if you’re just copying me to be annoying or if you don’t understand why I asked why.”

“The first one,” Thanos said. “He used to do it to Ana all the time when we were kids.”

“Shh.” Ana elbowed her husband. “There’s something going on here and it’s suddenly very interesting.”

I ignored them and kept my gaze focused on Nick. “Why do you want to know if I’m going to do the show or not?”

Slowly, as though he was paper fortune teller unfolding itself, he leaned back in the chair and placed both hands behind his head. Under the thin cotton, his muscles tensed and relaxed. His lower half, in jeans, spread out, putting his goods on display.

For a moment I was dazed, hypnotized. That was probably how he got women. Stun them with that body and face, and then move in for the kill.

“From where I was sitting, seemed like they bullied you into meeting with the casting director. Choosing to be on the show is one thing, but it wasn’t right that they were pushing you. I’m just making sure that whatever you do, it comes from you.”

Oh.

I pressed Play. Sat.

His words pushed me to replay the morning and the incident with the GTH team. He wasn’t wrong. They had sort of strong-armed me. Not necessarily out of malice, but it was more like they couldn’t believe someone wasn’t dying to be on their show. At the time they were surrounded by bodies, five deep, desperate for a taste of fame, even if it was something as small as an autographed arm or a selfie. Every other person there would have shoved me under a bus for the opportunity to be on the show, and there I was, a woman who just wanted her pen so she could write her postcards.

And here was Nick Merrick, unhappy that the GTH folks had arm-twisted me into at least agreeing to meet with the casting director.

Had he mistaken me for some kind of jellyfish? One of the floppier, less harmful ones that didn’t pack a sting, but that was spineless nonetheless? Because I’ll have you know I do have a spine. It runs right from the base of my neck and ends where a tail would begin if certain recessive genes were doing the backstroke in my gene pool. That same spine was the reason I lifted from the knees and used a hand truck when book boxes were too heavy. I took care of my backbone. Okay, I was slouching in this chair, my poor vertebrae currently curved like a croissant, but other than this current burst of abuse, I was careful.

All of that is to say that I have a backbone and I know how to use it.

At the time, I was overwhelmed. And curious. That’s why I had agreed to meet the casting director at Hotel Ble.

But I would be lying if I said I wasn’t touched by Nick’s concern. He thought they were trampling across my back and he was looking out for me. And I appreciated it. Which was why I left the chair again and pressed Pause.

“Thanks.”

He nodded once.