Page 10 of Double Standard

“Selfie?” I say as I swipe open the camera. “Ready?”

He grabs the phone from me, raises it, and flips to the front camera. I had envisioned something more considered—find our angles, get the light right—but he tilts his head toward me and snaps before I can protest. He hands it over for my approval: his one-dimple smile, my face in profile looking up at him expectantly, a sun flare that bathes us in just enough mystery. It’s perfect. I ask him to text it to me so I can post it.

There’s a lot to hate about social media, but at least there I can control my image. This shot of us, with a coy, throwaway caption likeAthena at the Parthenon, will get my six million followers into a buzz about the two of us. And if the comments go south? Emily can turn them off.

I’ve almost forgotten about the tour until I hear Tony clear his throat. “For decades after its opening, our Parthenon was missing its Athena. Any guesses about how long it took to craft our goddess?” He points to a towering golden statue inside, like we might miss it. “Eight years! That’s how long thismonumental—pun intended!—feat took to complete.”

“Monumental is right!” Levi’s voice is a bright burst, and even I know him well enough to know that he’s kissing ass. But Tony’s eyes grow soft. There are roughly twenty-five cast and crew members in his midst, mainly lead actors and those doing stunts, and I can’t imagine he will be thrilled to watch them scale these pillars a few days from now.

Warmth, less harsh and more fragile than the sun searing my skin, blooms in my chest. I’m starting to believe Levi genuinely wants to make people happy. And if I wasn’t so jaded from years in a job where people are only kind if they want something from you, I’d find it endearing. A tiny part of me still does, and that feels dangerous, like a liability. Instead of dwelling, I catalog the trait as a strength we can use—to win people over for us. For me.

“Suck-up,” I whisper. Levi flashes me a smile, and the singular dimple in his cheek makes a fleeting appearance.

“You’re just jealous Tony likes me more than you.”

“I don’t need him to like me. I need this to wrap up so I have time to shower and do a final read-through before the event later.”

“Is it normal to do a meet-and-greet before filming starts?”

“It’s a first for me, but according to Francesca, it was part of the deal with the city, in exchange for us filming here. You’ll have fun—children’s hospital visits, where showing up really means something to the kids, are my favorite.”

He nods with his lips pulled between his teeth, like he’s mulling this over. “Will there be photographers there?”

“Outside, most likely, though it’ll probably be fans instead of paparazzi. We should be blissfully press-free during the visit, though the guests could say anything to the media afterward.”

I’m speaking in code again. I give him a look to say,So you better act like my boyfriend.

Levi slides an arm around my shoulders, a silent acknowledgment that he’s picked up the message. After another few minutes walking up and back down the stairs in front of the Parthenon, Levi glances at his watch. “Hey, Tony! What’s the ETA on wrapping this up?”

Tony shrugs and keeps walking. Francesca, who’s been trailing behind him while taking calls and occasionally pointing things out to various production members, shoots Levi a look and then me an eye roll. After seeing our fake dating scheme in action, her iciness has started to thaw. Now, after the plane ride here, our rapport includes acknowledging the shenanigans of the men we work with.

“I tried,” Levi says.

“See you at 3:30. And be ready to smile so big your cheeks hurt.” I slip out from under his arm as I peel off from the group.

“Am I evernotsmiling when I’m around you?” he replies with a shit-eating grin, and come to think of it, I haven’t seen his nervous, scrunched-up face since that day at the studio in LA. Either he’s a better actor than he gives himself credit for, or he’s actually enjoying this game we’re playing. As I turn toward the parking lot, a devastating thought takes hold: I am enjoying this too.

X

Levi

“Coming!” I hear Ana shout from behind the heavy-looking wood door I knocked on just a few seconds ago. The home she’s staying in has stucco walls, arched windows, and burnt-orange Spanish tiles lining the roof—nothing like the downtown rental apartment I was assigned by the production company.

She greets me with a huff, twisting up her blonde hair before securing it with a clip. Though I’ve been told the event tonight is casual, I’m pretty sure it’s not joggers-and-a-tee casual. But here she is, standing in front of me in a T-shirt that’s ridden up with the lift of her arms to bare a soft sliver of skin above her waistband. I assume it’s soft. The impulse to run my palm across it—to confirm—sparks in my fingertips.Nope.I shove my hands in my pockets instead.

“I told you to get here at 3:30p.m. It’s only 3:22. I’m not ready,” she says.

“On time is late, and early is on time.” That’s the onlyacceptable way to operate on a farm, and it’s the only way I’ve ever known how to be. She crinkles her nose and shoots me a scowl. It would be threatening if she weren’t short enough for me to use her head as an armrest. Or if I wasn’t so charmed by the smile lines that appear around her eyes when she squints.

“Just letting you know I’m here.” I raise my hands in front of my chest in mock surrender. “I’ll be in the car. Come on out whenever you’re ready.”

I jog back to the driveway, ducking to take a seat in the Chrysler directly behind Edwin, my assigned driver and an increasingly familiar, increasingly comforting presence. Having a private car isn’t something I expected when I took this job, but it’s becoming convenient, as the public’s interest in my relationship with Ana—and in me—has grown. Our first formal appearance together at this event tonight is likely to intensify it.

Meanwhile, my agent’s inbox is full of opportunities I wouldn’t have been considered for a few weeks ago. Interview requests, a brand sponsorship, modeling calls—Ana was right that simply existing in her orbit would raise my profile. I can only hope I’ve been half as helpful to her.

Edwin turns around in the driver’s seat to face me. “Let me be the first to tell you that waiting on a woman never ends. I’ve been at it for years.”

“Oh, this isn’t a—” I stop myself from sayinga real relationshipbecause it’s supposed to look like one. For all I know, he could take something I tell him and sell it asan insider story. “I’m happy to wait,” I go with instead, just as my eyes catch on Ana swinging open the front door.