Not If I Date You First

Chapter 10

LIAM

"Cut! Take five, everyone." Our director Paul's voice booms through the Roman Sculpture Court of the Metropolitan Museum of Art. We've spent the whole evening waltzing around, trying not to knock over the priceless busts and statues. I have no idea which genius chose this location. The setting might add some drama to the scene, but these sculptures must be worth more than even my salary.

"This lighting is still off. Fix it," Paul yells, motioning to some of the crew.

The statues glow under the track lighting. Moonlight filters in through the arcing skylight running the length of the room, casting shadows in all directions.

I tug at the knot of my tie. We're filming yet another formal. The characters on this show attend more formals than students at any high school I've ever heard of. The writers pounce at any chance to get us dressed up and parade us on screen for the fans. I'm decked out in a suit that's been tailored within an inch of its life. It's suffocating.

Paul's standing next to one of the columns, watching a couple of guys maneuver the massive, free-standing lights. Seeing my opportunity, I cut a beeline over to him. Paul's barely looked at me in the last week. I need to apologize. To beg for my job if I have to.

"Can I talk to you for a second?" I ask, feeling like a dog with its tail between its legs.

Paul's dark eyes cut over to me. He jerks his head in a nod without saying a word.

I swallow. He's not going to make this easy. "I'm sorry about the press event. I should've been there. I really screwed up."

"Yep." The frown on Paul's face deepens.

"I'll do anything to stay on the show. Seriously, anything. Just name it."

Paul scratches the stubble that dots his chin. "I don't want to cut you, Liam. Especially when we've only got ten episodes left in the series. But your image affects the success of the entire show. If we come under fire because of your reputation, the whole crew, the cast, the network, we all look bad."

"I realize that now, and I'm doing everything I can to fix it."

"So I've seen. Those pictures of you and that photographer are...well, they're something."

The shots of me and the girl in the park just about broke the damn internet. Of course, Paul's seen them.

Paul sighs. Tugging his fingers through his unruly, gray-streaked curls. "I'm not having you written off yet—"

"Paul, thank you." I can barely keep myself from fist-pumping.

"But," Paul holds up a hand, "if there's any more bad press or you miss a single event, you're done. I mean it."

"I understand. It won't happen again."

"I hope not, Liam. I really do." Paul shakes his head, and the disappointment in his eyes is like a punch to the gut. How could I have let my career get derailed this badly?

"Going again in five," Paul calls, striding toward the craft service table.

Knowing I'm not getting fired—at least for now—sends a wave of relief flooding through me so intense my head swims. I bend forward, grasping my knees. My lungs expand fully for what feels like the first time in days. Now, if I can only get another job lined up for after we wrap in August.

I straighten, resisting the urge to rub my hands down my face and wreck the work the makeup crew has already retouched multiple times today.

"Everything okay, boyfriend?" I turn to see my friend and co-star Ariani walking toward me, the skirts of her teal-green ball gown rustling. Ariani has played one of the main characters on the show since we started. She's also got this massively popular YouTube channel where she interviews other successful women from a variety of different fields. She's a total boss.