And it would only postpone the inevitable, anyway.” He looked at her oddly. “I mean, you do plan to move back to L.A. and start working again, right?”
“That’s the plan. I’d hoped to have Folly under my belt, though, first. Something for people to talk about other than just my past.”
His eyes widened. “So you really don’t want that kind of publicity?”
Finally something she’d said was sinking in. “God, no.”
“It made you a household name.”
That reminder was unnecessary. She’d spent the last three years trying to change that association. “And it nearly destroyed me—personally as well as professionally.”
Finn shook his head. “I don’t think it was that bad.”
The heat had made her grouchy, he’d given her a headache, she hadn’t slept well, and this entire day was now sucking with the strength of a black hole.
She lost her grip on her temper. “Well, you aren’t widely known for your thinking skills, you know,” she snapped.
Finn didn’t bite back, and his cocky smile made her want to smack him. “Admit it. We had a good time.”
Not even under the pain of torture would she admit that. It didn’t matter now. She forced herself to keep her face neutral. “That was a long time ago. I’m not that girl anymore.”
“What a pity.” He smirked and took another drink.
Her jaw tightened so much it ached. I will not take the bait. He’s trying to get a rise out of me. Why, she didn’t quite know—other than his perverse sense of humor. She took a deep breath. “I guess I’ll just solider through, then. You’re right that I’ll eventually have to face it, so I might as well start now.” She rubbed her palms against her thighs. “You do your job and I’ll do mine, and the ensuing boring lack of anything tabloid-worthy will set me up for a return to respectability. And when this film does well I should be solidly set.”
“I watched yesterday’s rushes. They’re great. Really powerful stuff from you.”
The compliment came out of nowhere, shocking her into silence while at the same time warming her. More than it really should. It made her slightly suspicious, too. Finn had always been quick with compliments on her appearance or a new dress, but never anything deeper.
“Thank you. Rebecca is a wonderful character. My mom even said she wishes she was thirty years younger so she could have read for the part.”
Finn met her eyes over the table. “I can honestly say that, given the choice between you and your mother to be Rebecca, I’d choose you.”
Shock and disbelief warred with a strange swelling in her chest. There was nothing he could have said that would have meant more to her, and she knew he knew it. The suspicion sharpened, but while Finn might be glib occasionally, he was also brutally, unflinchingly honest when it came to the business. The air felt weighty after his statement, and the silence between them was thick.
Caitlyn managed to find her breath and shrug casually. “But after Cindy Burke, of course.”
Finn’s lips twitched. Then, with a speed that had her rushing to catch up, he turned very businesslike. “There have been a few tweaks made to the schedule. As you know, we’re a bit behind, and don’t want this to drag on forever. There are some long days ahead.”
She nodded.
“We’d also like for you to make a few more appearances to drum up publicity in the right places.”
The cautious edge to his voice jerked her eyes to his. “With you?”
“God, no. I said the right places.”
Caitlyn would have been relieved if not for the horror in Finn’s voice. So much for any warm, fuzzy feelings he might have stirred up. Or any other equally warm, yet not at all fuzzy ones, either. She glanced at the list Finn passed her.
One name was conspicuously absent. “And Naomi?”
“Naomi has her own schedule and agenda.”
She leaned back and sighed. This was juvenile high-school stuff on Naomi’s part. “In other words she doesn’t want to share her headlines. Especially with me. She never did.”
“Naomi isn’t stupid. She has a career to protect.”
“Like I could do any damage to her. Like I ever did. The only person I dragged down was me.”
“But you still managed to overshadow her.”
“For all the wrong reasons, it seems.” She shrugged. “But, you know, I crashed and burned, and she got what she wanted. I don’t know why she carries a grudge.”
That eyebrow went up again. “And you don’t?”
There was more than one way to interpret that statement, and Caitlyn didn’t want to get dragged back into a discussion of them. She chose to go with the subject of Naomi. “No. Naomi thinks this is a zero-sum game. She doesn’t think there’s room for us both in the papers. I know that’s not the case.”
A second, closer look at the schedule sent a chill down her spine. “What in the hell is this about?”
Finn shrugged. “The PR people want to shift attention from just you to you and Jason. Maybe get a couple of folks questioning whether you two are becoming a couple. It will shift focus nicely away from us.” His lips twitched. “And a romance blooming on the set with your on-screen love is a perfect way to kill two birds.”
Ugh. Was she destined to have to make a name for herself based on who she was—or supposedly was—dating? While Naomi got to keep the attention on the project and her role? It was degrading. It left a really bad taste in her mouth. “That’s a cheap ploy.”
If Finn didn’t stop shrugging in that who-gives-a-damn? way she might strangle him. As it was, she was grinding her teeth into a pulp to keep from shouting at him to stop.
“But you know it works.”
But Jason Elkins? He was a good actor—a big box-office draw—and they worked well together on camera but she didn’t like him all that much. He was a little too egotistical and not exactly the brightest bulb in the chandelier.
She bit back each of the dozen comments she wanted to make about where they could stick this grand publicity plan. She had dues to pay again, and it seemed her penance wasn’t quite over, after all. “Fine. I’m a team player. Whatever’s best for the project.”
“Smart girl.”
She stood and reached for her shoes. “Don’t patronize me, Finn.”
“I wasn’t.”
He seemed sincere and Cait felt a bit bad. She was just too jumpy around him, ready to go straight to Worst Possible Meaning.
“Those were honest words from a friend.”
