Today's Reading
Hesitating in the doorway, he vaguely remembered an unread text from Nora, his assistant.
Instead of the pink-haired grandmother of three he trusted to be all up in his business, here stood a much younger, smooth-skinned woman shifting toward him from her place behind the makeup chair. The woman who'd stood across from him during the blocking scene last Friday. The woman who had pierced him with her simple concern.
The makeup artist ran a hand over her hair, pulling thick, braided strands over one shoulder. Silver studs glistened from two holes in each of her ears, flanking the dimples that made a slight appearance in her cheeks as her mouth pulled downward. A silver chain hung from her neck with two metal circles—were they rings?—dangling in the center.
For the briefest moment, John wondered how deep those dimples would be if she really smiled. But instead, her lips poked out, as if a response worked its way to the front of her mouth, only to be swallowed up again.
John's need for an answer didn't seem to make her rush to give one. Well, he hadn't responded to her question the other day either. Come to think about it, that had probably come off as rude. Might be the reason why she stood before him in silence, full lips pulled into a kind of grimace. Dark doe eyes held his gaze warily, her cheekbones keeping their height despite the slight downturn of her mouth.
He sensed that he may be the source of her apparent displeasure.
When he cleared his throat, the makeup artist raised her other eyebrow. "I'm a last-minute change."
That's obvious.
She stepped around the chair, waves of tension coming off her as she stuck out her hand, her fingernails short and plain. So different from Doris's long, manicured nails painted a new color every week.
"Hello, again. My name is Adanne. I'm replacing Doris for the remainder of this location shoot or until she returns."
Adanne shook his hand after he reached out, then brushed off his touch like a spider had just crawled on her. She walked back to the chair, motioning him forward with a nonchalant flick of her hand.
Her lips tilted into a subtle smirk as John made his way to her with tentative steps. "I'm guessing you were not aware of her family emergency."
He swallowed the guilt niggling at his throat. The distractions of the past couple of days had kept him from getting the information about Doris. He'd call her later today to see how he could help. If he remembered to remind Nora to remind him to call her later.
He glanced at his new makeup artist, her face still pinched. In his career, it often felt like so many things were decided for him. Doris hadn't been his pick initially, but when he'd felt comfortable in her presence, especially after upheaval on certain sets, he'd asked for her to continue to be his personal artist. Maybe he would have suggested his own replacement too if he'd known. Despite the intrigue of this one's presence.
Adanne finished arranging her makeup tools and patted the chair. "All right, Mr. Pope, you can come have a seat if you don't mind. We have a long day ahead of us." She patted the chair again, the smirk gone from her face. "So, if you please."
John slung his backpack onto the leather couch by the door. He missed Doris already.
Maybe if Mike had done his job better, he would've made sure John knew about the staffing change. He didn't want to start over, especially when it came to someone who worked so close to him.
"What did you say your name was again?"
"It's Adanne. Adanne Stewart." Her voice dripped with slight exasperation, but still the tone flowed over him like rich honey. He ignored the warmth that spread in his core at the sound of her slight Southern lilt.
"Based on your accent, I assume you're from around here?" He held his arms to his chest like a shield. The arms that had wrapped her during that rehearsal, her shoulders tight with the tension.
"Yes. I am. Born and raised." She lifted an eyebrow, sparks in her eyes threatening to ignite. So different from the instinctive concern she had shown just a few days ago. "We can save the questions for later so you can get to your location on time. We've got a lot to do to get you camera ready. I promise I don't bite."
John wasn't so sure.
Adanne flicked a clean white towel across the padded leather chair, her gesture resembling a slight bow.
He sighed and sat down, praying this would not end in disaster. Thankfully, filming would only last for a couple of months, and then he could escape this town and its feisty residents.
This excerpt ends on page 23 of the paperback edition.
Monday we begin the book Meet Me at the Starlight by Rachel Hauck.
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