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"A date?" she practically shrieks. "Oops, sorry." She places her hand in front of her lips. "Is this your way of trying to?—"
"It's not a real date, obviously." I cut her off. "It's just for appearances' sake."
"Okay, so we're going on a fake date because…?"
"Because I want Whittaker to think that we just happened to be there, and you just happen to be a huge fan of his, and we just happened to get into a conversation, and I just happened to sign him." I grin. "Comprendo?"
"I guess so, but you are forgetting one thing."
"And what's that?"
"I'm not a fan of his. I don't like ice hockey, I couldn't tell you anything about it."
"And you're an actress, right?" I stare at her.
She presses her lips together. "Yes, I'm an actress, but?—"
"Are you a shitty actress or a good actress?"
"Well, what sort of question is that? Who's going to say they're a shitty actress?"
"Exactly, so you're a fairly good actress."
"Hey, that's mean. What do you mean by fairly good?"
"I mean you still work for me full time and you haven't won an Oscar yet, so I wouldn't say you're exactly up there with the Meryl Streeps and Sandra Bullocks of the world."
"Has Sandra Bullock won an Oscar?" she asks.
"I don't know." I shrug. "But..."
"But what?" she says.
"Fine, you're not a Viola Davis."
"Fine, I'm not Viola Davis," she admits. "But I could be one day if I get some really juicy and meaty roles." She bursts out laughing. "Okay, let's be real. I'm probably never going to be a Meryl Streep or a Viola Davis, but I'm not absolutely shit."
"So then you can work this role tonight?" I ask her hopefully.
"I'll try my best," she says, nodding. "Fine."
"Thank you."
I grab her hand and she looks at me in surprise.
"What's going on?”
“I wanted to show you Whittaker’s photo and bio before we go into the bar, so you aren’t completely out of your element if we see him.”
“Ok.” She nods as I show her my phone. “Ooh, he’s cute.” She squeals and I glare at her.
“You seen enough?”
“Not really. Any shirtless pics?”
“No.” I growl. “Come on. I think we should walk into the club holding hands, so when people see us they'll immediately think we have a close connection."
"Fine," she says, holding my hand.
