Smile and Look Pretty by Amanda Pellegrino

Author:Amanda Pellegrino
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Park Row Books
Published: 2021-10-05T18:35:34+00:00

16

James was the epitome of a frat boy who never grew up. He had the sad college beer belly, the moppy hair that he thought made him look younger, and the invincible attitude that they all had in college when doing keg stands until 5:00 a.m. and then showing up to a final exam at 7:00 a.m. Frat boys who never grew up were always believed, no matter how many times they proved otherwise.

The situation with James was complicated. There was no evidence. There was no proof. There were no texts or emails, no voice messages. He knew how to play the game to make sure he never got caught. Her word against his. And it all started with the classic “Where are you from?” on her first day.

“The Upper West Side,” Lauren had responded, knowing full well what was coming next and resisting the urge to roll her eyes.

“No, where are you from from?” He laughed as if she’d misunderstood the question.

“The Upper West Side,” she repeated sternly. He stared at her, smiling, waiting. “My mom was born in Cuba.” She finally succumbed, just to get him to stop looking at her.

Their relationship went even further downhill from there.

“You fascinate me,” he had said when they sat together at lunch on set last year. He always maintained the kind of eye contact that made her want to look anywhere but at him. Like he was staring at her for a purpose she couldn’t quite identify, rather than just listening to her talk.

“I do?” At first, she was suspicious—what a weird thing for someone to say—but then she realized, maybe I am fascinating.

“You never talk about yourself. It’s so interesting.” He put his coffee on the table and leaned in. “You are very good at diverting attention.”

“I feel like I talk about myself all the time.”

“Well,” he said, propping back in his flimsy folding chair. She remembered hoping it would break underneath him. “You talk about your work and your mom and your friends. But you don’t talk about you.”

“What do you want to know?” she asked skeptically.

James crossed his legs, resting his right ankle on his left knee, and spread his arms onto the backs of the chairs next to him. “We’re buddies, right? Friends?”

She nodded. She wanted it to be true—a writer was asking to be her friend. Hell yes, if that meant he’d read her scripts.

“If so, then you should want to tell me about your life. I’m not going to beg for information about my friend...”

But there were boundaries to work friendships that did not exist in others. There was only so much she wanted to share with a forty-one-year-old man she worked with. There was only so much he should want to hear.

A few days later, they sat in the trailer, both an hour early for work. He smelled like pine, and when he got too close—as he very often did—there was also a hint of sweat. She felt a tad uneasy in the room alone with him, but she didn’t know why.

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