Casting Debbie

Chapter 3

The following afternoon, everyone seemed on edge. Lou kept finding excuses to leave the room and Debbie...well, Lin hadn't figured Debbie out yet. She was nervous. He was sure about that much, since she kept bouncing her leg. He glanced under the table again. Yep. Still bouncing.

"Shall we cover the rules?" Lin opened the folder and put his glasses on. "No nightclubs, unless you're with Lou. And definitely no gay clubs. No dating anyone else, obviously." Lin paused, waiting for confirmation.

Debbie shrugged. "No dating. Got it."

"In the beginning, Lou will introduce you as her friend. You won't show any affection in public."

"Or at all," Debbie interrupted.

"Until she comes out," Lin clarified.

"And then what will be required of me?"

"Nothing you can't handle," Lin said with a smirk. "You've kissed a woman before, correct?"

Debbie sighed in frustration. "Look. I don't think I'll throw up in my mouth if I have to kiss Lou. I'm just asking how far we'll be taking this little charade."

"Nothing inappropriate, considering you're being paid. Just things like walking arm in arm, holding hands, maybe a light kiss, and sweet little looks for the paparazzi."

Debbie shrugged again. "I can do sweet."

"Prove it," Lin mumbled as he eyed her over his reading glasses. After meeting Debbie in person, he had his doubt about her "sweet" factor. "Anyway, we'll bring in a stylist and Lou and I will decide on your look."

"My look?"

"Yes your look." Lin took off his glasses. "Lou's a tastemaker. When she wears something out in public, the fashion world takes notice, photos are taken, and before you know it, everyone is copying her look. You need to complement that style without overpowering it."

Debbie looked down at herself. "I have style. I can be... stylish."

Again, Lin had his doubt. He glanced at her cropped jeans and V-neck t-shirt. There was no shortage of hotness, but she looked like a "Stars: They're Just Like Us!" magazine spread featuring Jennifer Aniston's Sunday morning trip to Starbucks. And then there were the leather sandals. Or more accurately, the leather flip-flops. Sure, they were Tory Burch flip-flops, but flats? Really? At least her toenails were painted a pretty shade of pink.

Lin chuckled to himself as he realized, not for the first time, why so many people assumed he was gay. "If you're going to complain about a new wardrobe that you get to keep when the job is done, then maybe I was a bit hasty."

"Fine. I'll take the clothes. But I want the Range Rover too. And why it is a Range Rover? Why not a sports car?"

Lin huffed. "The last thing we need is you killing someone on PCH."

"But it's okay if I kill someone on Sunset?" Lin narrowed his eyes at her. "All right. Fine," Debbie acquiesced. "No sports cars or vehicular homicide. You drive a hard bargain."

Lin ignored her sarcasm, even though the slight curve at the corners of his lips said he kind of liked it. "I've created a cover story. You'll memorize it. And it's your job to get to know Lou so that when you're together in public, it's believable."

"I've got this, Lin," Debbie said impatiently. "I've been doing this since I was a kid. I can look at a rock and cry because it's so damn gray, which makes me blue and reminds me of the dolly my druggie brother promised me but never gave me as a kid, and before you know it, I've got real tears in my eyes."

"Druggie brother?" Lin opened another folder -the one containing the research he'd done on Debbie.

"Me and him, homeless on the street of New York. Works every time."