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Genevieve narrowed her eyes again, sensing there was more to the story. Part of her wanted to push, to demand answers. But another part, the part that remembered the vulnerability in Eden's eyes as they'd lain tangled together on her couch, held her back. It wasn’t her place to demand that Eden share whatever was troubling her because they weren’t together. Genevieve had insisted they wouldn’t end up in a relationship, she couldn’t get too close. She certainly couldn’t demand thatEden laid bare her emotions just to appease her nagging concern.
"See that you do," she said instead, her tone clipped. "We can't afford any weak links, Eden. Not at this stage. I, um . . . I was bluffing earlier. I obviously can’t replace you. And I don’t want to."
Eden huffed a nervous chuckle, finally looking up. For a moment, Genevieve thought she saw longing shimmering in those impossibly blue eyes. But before she could be sure, Eden had turned away, hurrying out of the rehearsal room.
Genevieve watched her go, an uneasy feeling settling in the pit of her stomach. She told herself it was just concern for the production, nothing more. But as she gathered her own things, she couldn't shake the image of Eden's hurt expression from her mind.
Back in her office, Genevieve sank into her chair, rubbing her temples. She replayed the interaction with Eden over and over, wondering if she'd been too harsh. But no, she decided. This was her job. She couldn't coddle her actors, no matter how talented they might be. No matter how soft their skin felt under her fingertips, or how sweet their moans sounded in the dark . . .
Genevieve cleared her throat, banishing the thoughts. This was precisely why she'd told Eden their arrangement couldn't be anything more than physical. Emotions complicated things, and made everything messy. Genevieve couldn't afford that, not with so much riding on this.
Her phone buzzed, startling her out of her reverie. A reminder flashed across the screen: meeting with Sammy in ten minutes. Genevieve sighed. The last thing she needed right now was to deal with Sammy's probing questions and knowing smirks.
She stood, smoothing down her blouse and checking her reflection in the small mirror on her office wall. Her hair wasimpeccable as always, her makeup flawless. No one looking at her would guess at the turmoil roiling beneath the surface.
As she made her way to Sammy's office, Genevieve gave herself a mental slap. She could handle a little meeting with her boss. Even if her mind kept drifting back to a certain blonde actress with eyes like the summer sky . . .
Genevieve entered Sammy's office with a confident stride, her professional mask firmly in place.
"Ah, Gen!" Sammy greeted her, his smile wide and gleaming. "Come in, come in. How's our little experiment coming along?"
Genevieve settled into the chair across from his desk, crossing her legs and adopting an air of casual assurance. "Everything's going great, Sammy. The cast is really coming together."
Sammy leaned forward, his elbows resting on the polished surface of his desk. "Is that so? And our star? How's she holding up?"
There was something in his tone that set Genevieve on edge, a hint of knowing that made her wonder if he suspected more than he let on. She pushed the thought aside, maintaining her composure.
"Eden's doing fine," she replied, perhaps a touch too quickly. "She's living up to expectations."
Sammy's eyes narrowed, and Genevieve felt a flicker of unease. He'd always been unnervingly perceptive, a trait that made him both an excellent artistic director and a constant thorn in her side.
"You sure about that?" he pressed. "You seem a bit . . . tense."
Genevieve waved a hand dismissively, forcing a light chuckle. "Just the usual stress of carrying this entire company on my back. Nothing I can't handle."
Sammy leaned back in his chair with a small scoff, regarding her with a mixture of curiosity and concern. "If you say so. Butremember, I'm here if you need anything. We're in this together, after all."
"Of course," Genevieve nodded, eager to steer the conversation away from Eden and her own state of mind. "Now, about the budget for the set design?"
But Sammy wasn't so easily distracted. "You know," he interrupted, his tone deceptively casual, "I've been hearing some interesting rumours from the crew."
Genevieve felt her heart rate quicken, but she kept her expression neutral. "Oh? What kind of rumours?"
Sammy shrugged, trying far too hard to look innocent. "Oh, you know how it is. People talk. Apparently, there's been some . . . tension between you and our lovely Beatrice."
"Tension?" Genevieve echoed, fighting to keep her voice steady. "I'm not sure what you mean."
"Come now, Genevieve," Sammy chided, wagging a finger at her. "We've known each other too long for this song and dance. If there's something going on that could affect the production, I need to know about it. People are saying you’re barking and biting more than ever. Do you hate the girl or are you desperate to fuck her?"
Genevieve felt a flash of irritation. Who did Sammy think he was, questioning her professionalism? Even if he had no idea just how right he was. But she tamped it down, reminding herself of the delicate balance she needed to maintain.
"There's nothing going on," she insisted, infusing her voice with a hint of innocent exasperation. "Eden and I have a perfectly professional working relationship. Any 'tension' the crew might be picking up on is simply the result of my pushing her to reach her full potential."
Sammy held her defiant gaze for a long moment, as if trying to read the truth in her eyes. Finally, he nodded, though Genevieve wasn't sure he was entirely convinced.
" All right, if you say so. But Gen," he added, his tone growing serious, "you know how much is riding on this production. We can't afford any . . . complications."
Genevieve knew all too well what he meant. The weight of what was at stake never left her shoulders. This wasn't just about putting on a good show. It was about proving that RBC could evolve, could attract a new generation of theatre-goers without sacrificing their artistic integrity. And more personally for the hopeful director, it was about securing funding for her student program, and getting the chance to open doors for talented individuals who might otherwise be shut out of the industry.
