Cracks in the Spotlight

7

That Thieving Gold Locks

Eve's eyes darted around the kitchen, searching for an escape.

He’d already slipped into the clothes Jane had laid out for him—a pair of gray sweats and a matching hoodie. They were soft, far too comfortable for his current state of mind.

He couldn’t stay here any longer, not after what happened last night. He glanced toward the door and moved quietly, hoping to slip out unnoticed.

But of course, she was there. Jane stood by the kitchen counter, her gaze heavy on him. Eve froze mid-step, like a deer caught in headlights. His heart sank as he tried to ignore her stare and continue towards the exit.

“Sit.”

Her voice was calm but firm, leaving no room for argument. Eve swallowed hard, reluctantly turning around and sitting at the table.

Jane crossed her arms, her eyes sharp, dissecting him with every second of silence that passed.

“Are you dumb or just plain stupid?” she asked, her tone cold and biting.

Eve winced at her words, the shame creeping up his neck like fire. His fists clenched under the table, but he mumbled bitterly, “I didn’t ask for your help.”

Jane’s eyes darkened at his response, a flash of hurt crossing her face before she masked it with icy detachment. After everything she had done, all the lengths she had gone to in order to keep his name from being dragged through the mud, this was how he repaid her? She felt a strange tightening in her chest but quickly shoved it down.

“You should eat,” she said curtly, gesturing to the plate she’d prepared. Without waiting for his reply, she walked out of the kitchen, her back rigid.

Fifteen minutes passed in stony silence as Eve picked at his breakfast. He couldn’t help but notice that it was full of his favorites, but they were prepared in a healthier way—something Jane would do, he thought bitterly, to lecture him without saying a word. As he finished, Jane returned, dressed immaculately as ever, her expression even colder than before.

“Follow me.”

Her voice held no warmth, and Eve trailed behind her like a scolded puppy as they made their way to the car. The ride was painfully silent. He couldn’t even bring himself to look at her, and every passing minute seemed to add another layer of tension between them.

When they arrived at her agency, Eve stayed close but quiet, following Jane through the halls. People turned their heads as they passed, and Eve couldn’t help but feel the eyes on him—on them.

Jane led him to her office without a word, sitting down behind her desk and immediately getting to work. Eve lingered awkwardly by the door, unsure of what to do, until one of her secretaries kindly gestured for him to sit on the sofa. He sat there, his hands fidgeting in his lap, feeling completely out of place.

Jane worked in silence, her face impassive as she flipped through emails and documents. Eve shifted uncomfortably, unsure if he should say something to break the tension. But just as he opened his mouth, she tossed a script onto the table in front of him.

“Look it over,” she said, not looking up. “You’ll need to know it on the way.”

Eve blinked in confusion but took the script anyway. He flipped through the pages absently as they made their way to their next meeting. Jane didn’t explain, and he didn’t ask.

They entered a sleek, high-rise office, where the director of the new film was waiting for them. Jane exchanged pleasantries, her tone professional and detached. Eve hung back, trying to fade into the background. He still wasn’t sure what this was about, but judging by the script, this meeting was important.

And then, seemingly out of nowhere, a new figure entered the room. Tall, lean, with tousled blonde hair and striking crystal-blue eyes—he looked like he’d stepped right out of a fashion magazine. He flashed a charming smile, and the atmosphere in the room shifted. Eve could almost feel the magnetism rolling off him in waves.

“Oh, Ian,” the director greeted him warmly, “I didn’t know you’d make it today.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Ian said smoothly, his gaze flicking to Jane. His smile widened. “After all, I’m the one who wrote the script. I had to see if my stars were as perfect in person as they are in my imagination.”

Jane regarded him coolly at first, but there was something in her expression—a flicker of curiosity, a subtle shift in the way she held herself. She didn’t speak for a moment, simply observing him.

Eve watched the exchange, feeling a knot of irritation tighten in his chest. He couldn’t explain why, but something about this Ian guy set him on edge.

And the way Jane seemed...interested? Was that the right word? It made his skin crawl.

Ian, on the other hand, seemed completely at ease, charming the director, Jane, and practically everyone else in the room with his easy charisma.

He was boyish, mischievous, and far too comfortable with the attention.

For the next half-hour, Eve sat in awkward silence as Jane, Ian, and the director discussed the details of the movie. Every time Jane so much as glanced in Ian’s direction, Eve’s frustration grew.

But what made it worse was the look on Jane’s face. It wasn’t one of her usual expressions of detached professionalism or even cold indifference. There was something else. A look that could be easily misinterpreted by anyone watching.

Curiosity. Interest.

It was subtle, but Eve noticed—and it irritated him more than he cared to admit.